Any mage knew what the Fade felt like.
Admittedly, though, Nostariel had never felt it quite like this. She didn't think she was dreaming, she wasn't sure she was dead, and she most definitely hadn't used lyrium to get here in a waking state.
Any Grey Warden knew the story of the first darkspawn.
So the fact that she was looking at what appeared to be a Deep Roads tunnel was not a promising sign. Red lyrium grew in slowly-pulsing veins on the walls of dark stone; a passage stretched silently in front of her, tall enough for her to stand upright but not much taller. Behind her extended the same; she had a feeling if she'd been dropped in here facing this direction, it was the one she should go in. The logic of the Fade, if it could even be properly called that, was queer, and often she had found herself better served here by instinct than any loftier guide.
As if her first step forward was a trigger, the environment around her came to life: the slightly-hollow sound of air moving through a cave tunnel faded in, followed by the dripping of fetid water and the long-familiar stench of darkspawn. She had been in places like this hundreds of times since the Joining. She would probably be in them hundreds more. And yet... that only made it seem more real, made the aching throb of the Calling in her bones that much harder to ignore. She could even believe she sensed darkspawn further in, moving about in groups to inscrutable purpose.
The tunnel wasn't really large enough to use her bow properly, so when the first of them appeared, Nostariel reached for her magic, feeling unnatural frost chill her fingertips almost before she'd formed the intention to use a Winter's Grasp spell at all. Her magic was never this responsive, this quick to her hands, in the waking world; she hurled it forward with enough force that she actually had to take a step back to compensate.
It crashed into the hurlock's chest, engulfing it in a thick coating of frost. The follow-up, a blast of kinetic force, shattered him with ease. Nostariel blinked, looking down at her hands. They still tingled faintly with the force of the magic she'd used, as though they were waking from having fallen asleep. That same pins-and-needles sensation. Shaking her head, she stepped into a jog.
The first time the tunnel opened up into a wider cave, she found her husband.
“Ash?" He seemed to be confused, from his body language and facial expression. She could understand why—he walked along one of the cave walls as though it were the floor.
"Nos?" He countered, wheeling around to face her. The confusion he must've been feeling seemingly intensified, as his brows furrow and an odd look graced his features. He stared at her for a moment, the wheels in his head apparently spinning if his expressions were anything to go by. He had his arms crossed but pointed his finger at her when he spoke, "Why are you on the wall?" he asked, unaware that he was the one on the wall. "I'm not dead, am I? Honestly, I would've expected it to be a lot more peaceful than this," despite the words, his tone was that of worry.
“I'm not the one on the wall, dear. That's you." Though she could detect his concern, she couldn't help but smile a little. Somehow, it was perfectly believable that Ashton would end up at a right-angle to normal. Jogging over to the closest point she could reach, Nostariel stood on her toes and grasped his hand. “Now, just... give a little hop towards me, like you're trying to land next to me here. It'll work if you believe it should."
"Uh..." Ashton still seemed unsure, but he trusted her enough to take a few steps toward the floor. "If I land on my face, we tell no one, deal?" He said with a little smirk of his own. He then did as he was told and jumped. The angling was weird, certainly, but fortunately in spite of his height, Ashton had always been the agile type. He touched down with a foot and continued forward for a couple of steps before he had his balance back underneath him. He turned and retreated back to Nostariel's side, taking a contemplative look at the wall once more. "Now... how do we know we're not on the ceiling?" he asked aloud, though quickly he dismissed it as inconsequential with a shake of his head. Honestly, it didn't matter in the long run. There were more pressing matters to contend with.
He turned back toward Nostariel and smiled, leaning down and wrapping her into a hug, pressing his head against hers, "I'm glad you're alright." When he pulled back however, he appeared thoughtful for a moment, "But if we're alive, then... Where are we?" He asked, looking around at the cave they found themselves in. "It looks like the Deep Roads, but that fall would've killed us," he noted with an arched eyebrow.
“It would have." Nostariel nodded. “This looks like the Deep Roads, and it's definitely populated with darkspawn, or... demons in their shape. But it's... we're in the Fade, I think. I can't imagine anything else it could be." It still sounded preposterous to her own ears—the idea that they could somehow be physically in the Fade. A feat that had only been accomplished once, and at great cost. In more than one sense.
And yet, here they were. No used-up lyrium, no dead innocents. No corruption in anyone's veins but her own. She swallowed; something in her chest throbbed, squeezing her ribcage. There was a high-pitched keening of some kind in the back of her thoughts, always right on the fringes of consciousness. She wondered if it might not drive her mad.
"Wait." Ashton stated, the wheels starting to turn again. It took a few more moments before he was able to actually formulate a response. "The Fade? You mean, the Fade?" He repeated, turning toward her once more. For once, his face was unreadable, probably because he didn't know how to feel about it himself. "The very same Fade that the last time this," he began to wildly gesture around them to indicate their presence, "happened, it pissed off the Maker, created the Blight, and made him hate us for, oh, forever? Oh, right. And created Corypheus."
He chuckled weakly and began to rub the scraggle on his chin. "Heh, right. Well. Remind me not to touch anything," he laughed again and shook his head this time, apparently having a difficult time to process it.
"Sweetheart, I love you to death, but we have some of the worst luck."
“I'm not even sure we can blame this one on our luck. Our friends in the Inquisition seem just as magnetized to trouble as we ever were." She sighed, choosing another tunnel and heading down. This one was tall enough to accommodate Ash as well, but again only just. Nostariel wasn't claustrophobic—that would have been a fatal flaw in a Grey Warden—but it wasn't comfortable, either. Especially not considering how stale the air was.
She swallowed. “Though... perhaps ultimately, the blame does lie with us. At least with me. I'm..." She grimaced. It was hard to escape the obvious fact. “I'm the one who let him out, after all."
"No, don't do that to yourself," Ashton said, his tone warm, but with a rare firmness to it. The weight of his hands fell on her shoulders where they held firmly while they walked, his thumbs massaging her shoulders. "Don't you even start telling yourself that," he added.
She resisted the urge to lean further backwards. The song in her head was getting louder, maddeningly variant in pitch and tone. Her body ached, from deep in the core of it, like fatigue and weakness were endemic upon her. Like age was catching up and grinding her bones into dust, little by little.
“What else is there to be told? Ash, I undid blood magic seals keeping him tied to that place. I did that. Me. No one else could have. And then he got out, and now he's... this. Threatening everything. Trying to hurt everyone I love, destroy everything I've ever stood for. And I can barely think straight because the Calling won't leave me be for two seconds!" She made a frustrated noise, clenching her hands into fists. Something at the back of her throat tasted like bile; a cold sweat began to bead on her back, beneath the armor and blue linens she wore.
Ashton didn't say anything, but the hands on her shoulders beckoned her to slow her gait to a stop. They slipped away and wrapped around her, pulling her in close to his chest until his head rested on the crook of her neck. He said nothing for a while, the only sound she could hear the incessant Calling and his gentle breathing. For a while he stood like that, refusing to let her go until he finally began to speak quietly. "You weren't alone. Me, Lucien, Ithilian, Amalia, and Stroud were there as well. You had no choice, because if you didn't, that would've meant leaving us all imprisoned in there with him. And I know you, sweetheart, never would you ever let that happen. We're all just as equally responsible."
The embrace he held her in only tightened and he let his head rest against hers. "But we can't dwell on it, you know that as much as I do. You weren't alone then, and you aren't alone now," Ashton finally released her from his grasp only to move around and stand in front of her, hunched over so that they could look at each other face-to-face. "So, this is what we're going to do. We're going to get out of here, we're going to fight Corypheus, and we're going to make damn sure he's dead this time. He's going pay for what he's doing to you, and he's damn sure going to pay for taking you away from me for a year."
With that, Ashton brought her in for a kiss, and when he pulled back, he wore his usual confident, cock-sure smile.
Nostariel kept her eyes closed for a few moments after, only blinking them open after a full breath had passed in and out of her lungs. “Aren't you upset?" She landed back on her heels. “I'm... I'm dying, and I didn't tell you." She'd had reasons, but in hindsight, she didn't think they amounted to much. What was the point of protecting Warden secrets? Clearly, the freedom and obscurity in which they'd been allowed to exist for so long was doing them no favors. It felt like she'd been giving up so much of herself for something that might not be worth the sacrifice.
Some part of her wished she'd spent the last few years in Kirkwall with him, instead. At least her work at the Clinic never made her feel guilty. But Nostariel knew she had to do this. Had to find some way to repent what a mess she'd made of the Corypheus incident. Good intentions or otherwise.
His smile wavered and he frowned. "I... I-- no. I can't be upset with you," he said, the frown deepening. Disappointed, maybe sad, but his face did not read upset. "I can't imagine what you must be going through, and if there was some way to take some of that weight off of your mind, I would in a heartbeat. And it is so frustrating to know that I can't," He said, biting his lip. "And it kills me," he continued, letting his forehead touch hers, "to know that you had to deal with all of this on your own for the past year. It terrifies me to think that I can lose you."
He pulled back and stood straight again, putting on a brave smile for her, but he was easy to read, he always had been. Underneath the front, he was scared for her. "So, I'm going to do what I've always done, my pretty little Nostariel, and that is be with you every moment that I possibly can, Fade, demons, Darkspawn magisters be damned. I made a vow, remember?" He stated, rubbing the spot on the ring finger of his gauntlet, before offering it for her to take.
Nostariel could feel the words in her throat, and she tried to swallow them, but... whether it was the atmosphere of this place, the circumstances of their arrival here, or even just the fact that the damn thing looked so much like the Deep roads, she couldn't keep them down. “But you will. You will lose me, and I'll lose you." She took his hand, wrapping her light gauntlet around his heavier one. They needed to keep moving forward, though it hardly seemed to matter when all the tunnels looked the same to her.
“This isn't... it's not a fluke. Even if it goes away for a while when Corypheus dies, it's going to come back, Ash. It could be any day." The Calling took every Warden at a slightly different time, but none of them lasted more than thirty years from Joining. Nostariel had Joined at nineteen—it had already been more than half of that. More than the ten or fifteen that some had.
“And I'm afraid." It hurt to admit the same way as it hurt to think about, but of late it had been the thing most often on her mind. She couldn't afford to keep it to herself, or it would drive her insane. If it hadn't already—it was difficult to see clearly even now. She was closer to the desperate irrationality of those other Wardens than she wanted to think about.
"And I'm not?" he said gently. There were no anger in his voice, only a hint of sadness. "Nos, I hadn't seen you in a year. After a time I dreaded any letter that I got because I thought it might be Stroud writing me that I might've lost you. I... I didn't know what to do. I asked everyone I knew to keep an eye out for you, but they couldn't find you either." His face was strained and she could feel the tremble in his hand. It was plainly obvious that her absence had affected him more he wanted her to know-- probably in an attempt to keep it from adding to her guilt.
"The time I had to myself was a nightmare. I tried to throw myself into work so that I wouldn't think... but that only worked moments at a time. The worst part was the not knowing." He gripped her hand even tightly, his face working into a multitude of emotions. "I wanted to rip off this armor to run off and find you, but... I couldn't." He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his other hand.
"I knew I could... would lose you," he said, the change in words tearing him apart, "I knew it when we fought Corypheus the first time, and I knew it when I asked you to marry me, but I didn't care. And I am terrified of that day, but..." He said, wincing at his own words, "I want to know. I want to be there when you have to leave, and I want to go with you as far as you'll take me, so that I can say goodbye. I don't want you to just one day disappear, never to be heard from again. As much at it would hurt, that would hurt worse. It might be selfish, and it'll hurt, far worse than anything else I've ever felt but I want to be there with you."
There were tears in his eyes now, and try as he might to wipe them away, they kept coming. "Every moment I'm with you, all of the pain just seems worth it."
“Okay." Nostariel said it softly. “After this... I'll retire. For good this time. After Corypheus is gone, the rest of whatever I have left, whatever we have left, is ours. And I won't... I won't hide it from you, when the Calling really comes. I promise." She swallowed thickly.
“But in return, when it's time... you have to turn around and go back the other way. You have to live out the rest of your life as well and as fully as you can, whatever that means. If I'm gone and you can find someone else to love, don't you dare hesitate, okay? Run the guard, go back to running the shop, sleep in the woods with bears, I don't know. As long as you're happy. Promise me."
It had been a topic they avoided for so long, because she'd thought what needed to be understood already was. Perhaps it had taken this... almost-Calling to make her realize that there were things they hadn't resolved after all. But being in that state, believing for a terrifying year that death would come for her at any moment, had made many things crystal clear for her. One most of all.
“I love you, Ash. Always."
And it was brighter in her thoughts, in her heart, than even the Calling could be. Than even the instinctive fear of death.
"And I love you Nos. Far more than even those bears."
Despite herself, she snorted. “Good to know I rate above bears, then. I'll put it on my resume." She leaned her forehead into his chest for a moment, just long enough to smother a soft run of laughter. She certainly hadn't married him for his solemnity, but that was good. Already, her shoulders felt lighter.
When she stepped back, it was to discover that the tunnel had changed, so that is sloped upwards towards a circle of light. “Oh look. Your jokes are so bad the demon got disgusted with us and decided to kick us out."
"Heh, well at least we know it has a weakness now," he said with a soft chuckle.
"Well, shall we get to it then?" He said, taking her hand and nodding toward the slope and ring of light. If anything, that seemed like the best place to start moving. The slope itself wasn't a terrible incline, almost like they were walking up and out of a ditch. Now that the visage of the tunnel was gone, except for the overall wrongness of it all and the green skies, the landscape of the Fade was rather indistinct, and it continued on to even when they reached to top of the pitch.
No sooner had they emerged into the light than a voice, louder even than the Calling, thundered in the back of Nostariel's mind.
"Welcome, Captains Riviera and... Riviera."
There was a sort of amusement in the tone, but it was condescending in the extreme. Nostariel blinked, turning to Ash to confirm that he'd held it as well.
"Lovely to meet you, dear Nostariel. I'd always hoped for the chance to personally thank the one who made all of this possible. I shall not want for sustenance for ages, given all the fear Corypheus is seeding over Thedas. And he walks free because of you. Because you wanted to know even just a little bit more about who you were. Because you could not sacrifice the few to keep the many safe."
Nostariel squeezed Ash's hand and started forward. “It's a demon. Don't listen to a thing it says."
"You've failed so many times, as a Warden. You say their rush to martyr themselves is hasty and unwise, but isn't that only because you couldn't do it? Couldn't bear to give up the life you stole from the jaws of death? Couldn't bear to die now that you're finally content? Aren't you just too weak to make a sacrifice? Too selfish?"
"Yeah," Ashton tsked, "Yeah, that's definitely a demon alright. You can tell because they usually sound like assholes."
"Ah, Ashton. Still deflecting every attack with that unique sense of humor of yours. It's a shame that it hides all those nasty insecurities you have."
Ashton's eyelids fluttered to half-mast and he turned to look at Nostariel with them, immediately tired of the demon's droning.
"Did you tell your lovely wife that you started drinking again?"
That managed to make Ashton cough and rub the back of his head before he turned back toward Nostariel and measured out with his fingers. "Only just a little," he said, his face somewhat apologetic.
"It's a shame that all that humor won't help you save Kirkwall the next time disaster strikes. You can laugh all you wish as your wonderful home burns to ash. Oh yes, you are just bracing yourself for it, are you not? Kirkwall wishes to destroy itself so much that you will not be the least bit surprised when it finally succeeds, will you?"
Ashton sighed deeply, but shook his head. "This has to be the fifth or sixth time a demon has taunted me, and it really got old after the first one." With that, he turned back to Nostariel and shook his head. "It's always demons, isn't it? Demons or blood magic. I'm starting to feel nostalgic," he said wistfully, but he still clutched Nostariel's hand tightly. The voice said nothing else, but it's oppressive presence remained.
She sighed. While she might have preferred to find out some other way about the drinking bit, it wasn't like she didn't understand.
“Well, if old times are anything to go by, we'll be wanting friends. Let's find some." Nostariel half-smiled up at him, and pointed them both down the path forward.
Admittedly, though, Nostariel had never felt it quite like this. She didn't think she was dreaming, she wasn't sure she was dead, and she most definitely hadn't used lyrium to get here in a waking state.
Any Grey Warden knew the story of the first darkspawn.
So the fact that she was looking at what appeared to be a Deep Roads tunnel was not a promising sign. Red lyrium grew in slowly-pulsing veins on the walls of dark stone; a passage stretched silently in front of her, tall enough for her to stand upright but not much taller. Behind her extended the same; she had a feeling if she'd been dropped in here facing this direction, it was the one she should go in. The logic of the Fade, if it could even be properly called that, was queer, and often she had found herself better served here by instinct than any loftier guide.
As if her first step forward was a trigger, the environment around her came to life: the slightly-hollow sound of air moving through a cave tunnel faded in, followed by the dripping of fetid water and the long-familiar stench of darkspawn. She had been in places like this hundreds of times since the Joining. She would probably be in them hundreds more. And yet... that only made it seem more real, made the aching throb of the Calling in her bones that much harder to ignore. She could even believe she sensed darkspawn further in, moving about in groups to inscrutable purpose.
The tunnel wasn't really large enough to use her bow properly, so when the first of them appeared, Nostariel reached for her magic, feeling unnatural frost chill her fingertips almost before she'd formed the intention to use a Winter's Grasp spell at all. Her magic was never this responsive, this quick to her hands, in the waking world; she hurled it forward with enough force that she actually had to take a step back to compensate.
It crashed into the hurlock's chest, engulfing it in a thick coating of frost. The follow-up, a blast of kinetic force, shattered him with ease. Nostariel blinked, looking down at her hands. They still tingled faintly with the force of the magic she'd used, as though they were waking from having fallen asleep. That same pins-and-needles sensation. Shaking her head, she stepped into a jog.
The first time the tunnel opened up into a wider cave, she found her husband.
“Ash?" He seemed to be confused, from his body language and facial expression. She could understand why—he walked along one of the cave walls as though it were the floor.
"Nos?" He countered, wheeling around to face her. The confusion he must've been feeling seemingly intensified, as his brows furrow and an odd look graced his features. He stared at her for a moment, the wheels in his head apparently spinning if his expressions were anything to go by. He had his arms crossed but pointed his finger at her when he spoke, "Why are you on the wall?" he asked, unaware that he was the one on the wall. "I'm not dead, am I? Honestly, I would've expected it to be a lot more peaceful than this," despite the words, his tone was that of worry.
“I'm not the one on the wall, dear. That's you." Though she could detect his concern, she couldn't help but smile a little. Somehow, it was perfectly believable that Ashton would end up at a right-angle to normal. Jogging over to the closest point she could reach, Nostariel stood on her toes and grasped his hand. “Now, just... give a little hop towards me, like you're trying to land next to me here. It'll work if you believe it should."
"Uh..." Ashton still seemed unsure, but he trusted her enough to take a few steps toward the floor. "If I land on my face, we tell no one, deal?" He said with a little smirk of his own. He then did as he was told and jumped. The angling was weird, certainly, but fortunately in spite of his height, Ashton had always been the agile type. He touched down with a foot and continued forward for a couple of steps before he had his balance back underneath him. He turned and retreated back to Nostariel's side, taking a contemplative look at the wall once more. "Now... how do we know we're not on the ceiling?" he asked aloud, though quickly he dismissed it as inconsequential with a shake of his head. Honestly, it didn't matter in the long run. There were more pressing matters to contend with.
He turned back toward Nostariel and smiled, leaning down and wrapping her into a hug, pressing his head against hers, "I'm glad you're alright." When he pulled back however, he appeared thoughtful for a moment, "But if we're alive, then... Where are we?" He asked, looking around at the cave they found themselves in. "It looks like the Deep Roads, but that fall would've killed us," he noted with an arched eyebrow.
“It would have." Nostariel nodded. “This looks like the Deep Roads, and it's definitely populated with darkspawn, or... demons in their shape. But it's... we're in the Fade, I think. I can't imagine anything else it could be." It still sounded preposterous to her own ears—the idea that they could somehow be physically in the Fade. A feat that had only been accomplished once, and at great cost. In more than one sense.
And yet, here they were. No used-up lyrium, no dead innocents. No corruption in anyone's veins but her own. She swallowed; something in her chest throbbed, squeezing her ribcage. There was a high-pitched keening of some kind in the back of her thoughts, always right on the fringes of consciousness. She wondered if it might not drive her mad.
"Wait." Ashton stated, the wheels starting to turn again. It took a few more moments before he was able to actually formulate a response. "The Fade? You mean, the Fade?" He repeated, turning toward her once more. For once, his face was unreadable, probably because he didn't know how to feel about it himself. "The very same Fade that the last time this," he began to wildly gesture around them to indicate their presence, "happened, it pissed off the Maker, created the Blight, and made him hate us for, oh, forever? Oh, right. And created Corypheus."
He chuckled weakly and began to rub the scraggle on his chin. "Heh, right. Well. Remind me not to touch anything," he laughed again and shook his head this time, apparently having a difficult time to process it.
"Sweetheart, I love you to death, but we have some of the worst luck."
“I'm not even sure we can blame this one on our luck. Our friends in the Inquisition seem just as magnetized to trouble as we ever were." She sighed, choosing another tunnel and heading down. This one was tall enough to accommodate Ash as well, but again only just. Nostariel wasn't claustrophobic—that would have been a fatal flaw in a Grey Warden—but it wasn't comfortable, either. Especially not considering how stale the air was.
She swallowed. “Though... perhaps ultimately, the blame does lie with us. At least with me. I'm..." She grimaced. It was hard to escape the obvious fact. “I'm the one who let him out, after all."
"No, don't do that to yourself," Ashton said, his tone warm, but with a rare firmness to it. The weight of his hands fell on her shoulders where they held firmly while they walked, his thumbs massaging her shoulders. "Don't you even start telling yourself that," he added.
She resisted the urge to lean further backwards. The song in her head was getting louder, maddeningly variant in pitch and tone. Her body ached, from deep in the core of it, like fatigue and weakness were endemic upon her. Like age was catching up and grinding her bones into dust, little by little.
“What else is there to be told? Ash, I undid blood magic seals keeping him tied to that place. I did that. Me. No one else could have. And then he got out, and now he's... this. Threatening everything. Trying to hurt everyone I love, destroy everything I've ever stood for. And I can barely think straight because the Calling won't leave me be for two seconds!" She made a frustrated noise, clenching her hands into fists. Something at the back of her throat tasted like bile; a cold sweat began to bead on her back, beneath the armor and blue linens she wore.
Ashton didn't say anything, but the hands on her shoulders beckoned her to slow her gait to a stop. They slipped away and wrapped around her, pulling her in close to his chest until his head rested on the crook of her neck. He said nothing for a while, the only sound she could hear the incessant Calling and his gentle breathing. For a while he stood like that, refusing to let her go until he finally began to speak quietly. "You weren't alone. Me, Lucien, Ithilian, Amalia, and Stroud were there as well. You had no choice, because if you didn't, that would've meant leaving us all imprisoned in there with him. And I know you, sweetheart, never would you ever let that happen. We're all just as equally responsible."
The embrace he held her in only tightened and he let his head rest against hers. "But we can't dwell on it, you know that as much as I do. You weren't alone then, and you aren't alone now," Ashton finally released her from his grasp only to move around and stand in front of her, hunched over so that they could look at each other face-to-face. "So, this is what we're going to do. We're going to get out of here, we're going to fight Corypheus, and we're going to make damn sure he's dead this time. He's going pay for what he's doing to you, and he's damn sure going to pay for taking you away from me for a year."
With that, Ashton brought her in for a kiss, and when he pulled back, he wore his usual confident, cock-sure smile.
Nostariel kept her eyes closed for a few moments after, only blinking them open after a full breath had passed in and out of her lungs. “Aren't you upset?" She landed back on her heels. “I'm... I'm dying, and I didn't tell you." She'd had reasons, but in hindsight, she didn't think they amounted to much. What was the point of protecting Warden secrets? Clearly, the freedom and obscurity in which they'd been allowed to exist for so long was doing them no favors. It felt like she'd been giving up so much of herself for something that might not be worth the sacrifice.
Some part of her wished she'd spent the last few years in Kirkwall with him, instead. At least her work at the Clinic never made her feel guilty. But Nostariel knew she had to do this. Had to find some way to repent what a mess she'd made of the Corypheus incident. Good intentions or otherwise.
His smile wavered and he frowned. "I... I-- no. I can't be upset with you," he said, the frown deepening. Disappointed, maybe sad, but his face did not read upset. "I can't imagine what you must be going through, and if there was some way to take some of that weight off of your mind, I would in a heartbeat. And it is so frustrating to know that I can't," He said, biting his lip. "And it kills me," he continued, letting his forehead touch hers, "to know that you had to deal with all of this on your own for the past year. It terrifies me to think that I can lose you."
He pulled back and stood straight again, putting on a brave smile for her, but he was easy to read, he always had been. Underneath the front, he was scared for her. "So, I'm going to do what I've always done, my pretty little Nostariel, and that is be with you every moment that I possibly can, Fade, demons, Darkspawn magisters be damned. I made a vow, remember?" He stated, rubbing the spot on the ring finger of his gauntlet, before offering it for her to take.
Nostariel could feel the words in her throat, and she tried to swallow them, but... whether it was the atmosphere of this place, the circumstances of their arrival here, or even just the fact that the damn thing looked so much like the Deep roads, she couldn't keep them down. “But you will. You will lose me, and I'll lose you." She took his hand, wrapping her light gauntlet around his heavier one. They needed to keep moving forward, though it hardly seemed to matter when all the tunnels looked the same to her.
“This isn't... it's not a fluke. Even if it goes away for a while when Corypheus dies, it's going to come back, Ash. It could be any day." The Calling took every Warden at a slightly different time, but none of them lasted more than thirty years from Joining. Nostariel had Joined at nineteen—it had already been more than half of that. More than the ten or fifteen that some had.
“And I'm afraid." It hurt to admit the same way as it hurt to think about, but of late it had been the thing most often on her mind. She couldn't afford to keep it to herself, or it would drive her insane. If it hadn't already—it was difficult to see clearly even now. She was closer to the desperate irrationality of those other Wardens than she wanted to think about.
"And I'm not?" he said gently. There were no anger in his voice, only a hint of sadness. "Nos, I hadn't seen you in a year. After a time I dreaded any letter that I got because I thought it might be Stroud writing me that I might've lost you. I... I didn't know what to do. I asked everyone I knew to keep an eye out for you, but they couldn't find you either." His face was strained and she could feel the tremble in his hand. It was plainly obvious that her absence had affected him more he wanted her to know-- probably in an attempt to keep it from adding to her guilt.
"The time I had to myself was a nightmare. I tried to throw myself into work so that I wouldn't think... but that only worked moments at a time. The worst part was the not knowing." He gripped her hand even tightly, his face working into a multitude of emotions. "I wanted to rip off this armor to run off and find you, but... I couldn't." He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his other hand.
"I knew I could... would lose you," he said, the change in words tearing him apart, "I knew it when we fought Corypheus the first time, and I knew it when I asked you to marry me, but I didn't care. And I am terrified of that day, but..." He said, wincing at his own words, "I want to know. I want to be there when you have to leave, and I want to go with you as far as you'll take me, so that I can say goodbye. I don't want you to just one day disappear, never to be heard from again. As much at it would hurt, that would hurt worse. It might be selfish, and it'll hurt, far worse than anything else I've ever felt but I want to be there with you."
There were tears in his eyes now, and try as he might to wipe them away, they kept coming. "Every moment I'm with you, all of the pain just seems worth it."
“Okay." Nostariel said it softly. “After this... I'll retire. For good this time. After Corypheus is gone, the rest of whatever I have left, whatever we have left, is ours. And I won't... I won't hide it from you, when the Calling really comes. I promise." She swallowed thickly.
“But in return, when it's time... you have to turn around and go back the other way. You have to live out the rest of your life as well and as fully as you can, whatever that means. If I'm gone and you can find someone else to love, don't you dare hesitate, okay? Run the guard, go back to running the shop, sleep in the woods with bears, I don't know. As long as you're happy. Promise me."
It had been a topic they avoided for so long, because she'd thought what needed to be understood already was. Perhaps it had taken this... almost-Calling to make her realize that there were things they hadn't resolved after all. But being in that state, believing for a terrifying year that death would come for her at any moment, had made many things crystal clear for her. One most of all.
“I love you, Ash. Always."
And it was brighter in her thoughts, in her heart, than even the Calling could be. Than even the instinctive fear of death.
"And I love you Nos. Far more than even those bears."
Despite herself, she snorted. “Good to know I rate above bears, then. I'll put it on my resume." She leaned her forehead into his chest for a moment, just long enough to smother a soft run of laughter. She certainly hadn't married him for his solemnity, but that was good. Already, her shoulders felt lighter.
When she stepped back, it was to discover that the tunnel had changed, so that is sloped upwards towards a circle of light. “Oh look. Your jokes are so bad the demon got disgusted with us and decided to kick us out."
"Heh, well at least we know it has a weakness now," he said with a soft chuckle.
"Well, shall we get to it then?" He said, taking her hand and nodding toward the slope and ring of light. If anything, that seemed like the best place to start moving. The slope itself wasn't a terrible incline, almost like they were walking up and out of a ditch. Now that the visage of the tunnel was gone, except for the overall wrongness of it all and the green skies, the landscape of the Fade was rather indistinct, and it continued on to even when they reached to top of the pitch.
No sooner had they emerged into the light than a voice, louder even than the Calling, thundered in the back of Nostariel's mind.
"Welcome, Captains Riviera and... Riviera."
There was a sort of amusement in the tone, but it was condescending in the extreme. Nostariel blinked, turning to Ash to confirm that he'd held it as well.
"Lovely to meet you, dear Nostariel. I'd always hoped for the chance to personally thank the one who made all of this possible. I shall not want for sustenance for ages, given all the fear Corypheus is seeding over Thedas. And he walks free because of you. Because you wanted to know even just a little bit more about who you were. Because you could not sacrifice the few to keep the many safe."
Nostariel squeezed Ash's hand and started forward. “It's a demon. Don't listen to a thing it says."
"You've failed so many times, as a Warden. You say their rush to martyr themselves is hasty and unwise, but isn't that only because you couldn't do it? Couldn't bear to give up the life you stole from the jaws of death? Couldn't bear to die now that you're finally content? Aren't you just too weak to make a sacrifice? Too selfish?"
"Yeah," Ashton tsked, "Yeah, that's definitely a demon alright. You can tell because they usually sound like assholes."
"Ah, Ashton. Still deflecting every attack with that unique sense of humor of yours. It's a shame that it hides all those nasty insecurities you have."
Ashton's eyelids fluttered to half-mast and he turned to look at Nostariel with them, immediately tired of the demon's droning.
"Did you tell your lovely wife that you started drinking again?"
That managed to make Ashton cough and rub the back of his head before he turned back toward Nostariel and measured out with his fingers. "Only just a little," he said, his face somewhat apologetic.
"It's a shame that all that humor won't help you save Kirkwall the next time disaster strikes. You can laugh all you wish as your wonderful home burns to ash. Oh yes, you are just bracing yourself for it, are you not? Kirkwall wishes to destroy itself so much that you will not be the least bit surprised when it finally succeeds, will you?"
Ashton sighed deeply, but shook his head. "This has to be the fifth or sixth time a demon has taunted me, and it really got old after the first one." With that, he turned back to Nostariel and shook his head. "It's always demons, isn't it? Demons or blood magic. I'm starting to feel nostalgic," he said wistfully, but he still clutched Nostariel's hand tightly. The voice said nothing else, but it's oppressive presence remained.
She sighed. While she might have preferred to find out some other way about the drinking bit, it wasn't like she didn't understand.
“Well, if old times are anything to go by, we'll be wanting friends. Let's find some." Nostariel half-smiled up at him, and pointed them both down the path forward.