Chapter Text
The austere stone walls of Caer Oswin towered above the Inquisitor and the Seeker of Truth as they rode closer to Bann Loren’s territory. Untended vines creeped around the parapets, and overgrown shrubbery smothered windows and doors, making the weathered castle look abandoned. Fractured pillars and broken stone became landmarks that dotted the disheveled fief.
Eowyn and Cassandra dismounted their steeds and Cassandra hitched hers in the deserted stable as Torrent merely disappeared in a shimmer of light. The Inquisitor’s sharp blue eyes darted to the arrow slits lining the tops of the remaining towers, searching for enemies. Cassandra took notice of the wild growth and general decrepitude of Caer Oswin with a judgmental mein, her hazel eyes narrowing as they swept over the fortress.
“Bann Loren was said to be a pious and unassuming man. What has he been doing to leave his fortress in such disarray?” Cassandra wondered out loud. Eowyn’s lip curled as her gaze swept across the stone walls.
“Pious and unassuming, thou sayest? Traits that may swiftly be turned to folly, Seeker.” Eowyn murmured, her mind going to more than a few meek devouts that had their souls swayed to foolish and terrible deeds, thinking they were doing their god’s work. And in most cases, they truly were.
The two armored women made it to an entryway overgrown with moss and vines. Before they could reach the door, it burst open revealing men in altered templar armor ready for battle. Eowyn kicked the first man, sending him backward into his fellows and snapped her arm out to summon her weapon. The Godskin Peeler erupted into her palm, its sinuous blades glinting in the sunlight. Eowyn stabbed the next man with a twisting thrust. The Inquisitor spun the twinblade above her head, calling on the Peeler’s Black Flame Tornado. Obsidian fire exploded into the fray, burning the men still bottle necked at the entryway.
“Promisers!” Cassandra bellowed, her voice carrying years of disgust and fury. Cassandra readied her Brass shield and bashed her way into the building, scattering the armored men. She blocked a sword swing from one of the men before battering his helmet in with her shield. Another tried to skewer her from behind, but Eowyn hooked the curved blade of the Godskin Peeler around his neck and ended him.
When none of the Promisers were left standing, Eowyn banished her weapon and looked to Cassandra. There seemed to be a history between the Order of the Seekers and these false templars.
“Cassandra, who art these Promisers? Why didst they attack with such fervor?” Eowyn asked as she looked through the pockets of her dead enemies, taking their gold and any items that seemed interesting enough to keep. Cassandra wiped her sword on a Promiser’s ruined tabard before answering.
“The Order of Fiery Promise. They are a zealous and nihilistic cult with strange views about the Seekers. They’ve hounded us for centuries.” She answered, an unpleasant look on her face as she regarded the dead men.
“Strange views of thee? How so?” Eowyn asked, fighting a grin off her lips as she glanced at her companion. It didn’t take being in a cult to have strange views about Cassandra, or the Seekers in general.
“They believe they are the true Seekers and we somehow stole their powers. They want to get them back and bring about the end of the world.”
“The end of the world? And thine Order fought them for centuries? Hath not the Seekers rooted them out by now?” Eowyn queried, though she could understand the resilience of certain cults. Mayhap this Order of Fiery Promise has that in common with factions like the Cult of the Formless Mother led by the Lord of Blood, Mohg. Even with their leader dead they continue to worship his corpse. Then there was the cult of the Frenzied Flame, though the less Eowyn thought of that one, the better.
“We have, many times. They are like weeds, always returning.” Cassandra spat.
They pressed on to the next room and were assaulted by more Promisers. Foolish men in heavy armor yelled battle cries while they swung their weapons at the two women. Cassandra met one with her shield, while Eowyn’s gloved hand flashed across the other’s attack with a swift riposte.
The Promiser’s sword bucked in his gauntleted hands as bright blue, spectral swords appeared above Eowyn’s head. The Promiser looked wonderingly at the swords just before they impaled him. Eowyn glanced over to see Cassandra lift her enemy off his feet and slam him down onto the stone floor with her sword deep in his gut. Eowyn ripped the coin pouches off the belts of the dead and they continued on.
As the two warrior women went further into the fortress, Cassandra’s eyes caught a corpse wearing a tabard similar to her own. She ran to it and with a grimace closed its eyes.
“A Seeker. They tortured him to death. For this, they will pay with blood.” Her voice was cold, though her hands were tender as she made sure the corpse was out of the way of stomping boots and in a less awkward pose.
“Intruders!” A deep voice rang out in the courtyard, prompting Eowyn and Cassandra to unsheath their weapons. Eowyn counted five armored Promisers rushing toward them. With a scowl, the white haired woman leapt into the air and readied a spell learned from her armor’s namesake.
With a spin of Lusat’s Glintstone Staff a bluish silver orb formed around her curled, airborne body. One foolish Promiser tried to swing a sword at Eowyn, and was blown backward when one of Rellana’s Twin Moons crashed down on top of him. A second moon fell and two more men were caught in the blast. Then Eowyn, staff poised above her head, swung downward with another shockwave, blasting the false templars back in a wave of light.
At the same time, Cassandra blocked a wild swing from a Promiser then pivoted to riposte, slashing his leg. When he knelt in pain Cassandra uppercutted him with her shield. The other Promiser attempted to stab with a thrust at Cassandra’s back.
Eowyn vanished in a curl of smoke, reappearing next to Cassandra with a Bloodhound’s Step. With golden sparks as its herald, an Uchigatana was suddenly in the Inquisitor’s hands. She spun, blade extended, cutting deep into an armored chest. With another spin Eowyn slashed the Promiser, her katana cleanly severing armor, skin and bone.
Cassandra turned, her sword ready, but saw only Eowyn and dead men. She sheathed her blade and this time pilfered through pockets along with her Tarnished companion. Eowyn added the gold found to her own, but one Promiser had a note in his pocket.
“Cassandra, hark at this missive!” She called, holding it out for the Seeker. Cassandra read the note quietly, her eyes filling with disbelief and indignation. She handed the note back to Eowyn, her scowl fierce. Her hands, now holding nothing, itched for her sword at her hip.
Eowyn read the note silently as well, and even though she was not a Seeker, or even of this world, her own fury was ignited by the disregard this ‘Magister Calpernia’ had for her companion’s Order and the lives of the Seekers.
“The Elder One, with his knavish brood, hath sold the Seekers to this darksome cult, as if they were his chattels!” The Inquisitor’s voice was bathed in wrath, her cerulean eyes narrowed.
“But how did they get captured?” Cassandra murmured, her Nevarran brogue deepened by her anger. Her dark eyes lingered on the dead men as if searching their corpses for secrets.
“Fear not Cassandra, we shall find them forthwith.” Eowyn assured.
“It is not fear that pushes me forward. I must know what happened to the Seekers.” Cassandra said, her anger solidifying into a deadly point. They pressed onward without another word.
While finding and ruthlessly slaughtering more Promiser cultists, Eowyn and Cassandra canvassed the fortress, searching rooms and venturing deeper into the castle. They entered one corridor and Cassandra saw something that made her gasp and run forward. Eowyn summoned a blade and followed.
Cassandra knelt down near a young man in heavy templar armor with short hair and creeping black veins stretching across his face. He was laying down with his back against the staircase, as if waiting for death. Cassandra’s face was distraught as she gazed at him helplessly.
“Daniel? Can you hear me?” Cassandra’s wide eyes were searching his tainted face. A flicker of recognition swam through the fog in his expression.
“Cassandra? It is you. So you lived, thank the Maker.” The young man, Daniel muttered, his bloodshot eyes rolling in their sockets.
“I’m glad you’re alive Daniel. What happened?” Cassandra’s anguished face watched as black veins captured more of Daniel’s.
“They… they put a demon inside me. It’s killing me.” Daniel said, his voice low and filled with pain.
“That’s impossible! You can’t be possessed!” Cassandra denied, but Daniel shook his head, the action causing him to squeeze his eyes shut against the agony.
“It’s not possession. They fed me… things. It’s growing inside me.” Daniel grasped the armor around his stomach as his body was racked with an agonizing seizure.
“They will pay for this, Daniel.” Cassandra swore passionately.
“No. The Lord Seeker Lucius.” Daniel gasped out. Cassandra nodded thoughtfully.
“Of course we’ll find him, if he lives.” Cassandra allowed, her voice becoming more placating the longer she watched her peer writhe in pain.
“He betrayed us, Cassandra.” Daniel’s voice was small, a whisper. Cassandra’s eyes widened in surprise. Daniel continued hoarsely, his voice growing weaker. “He sent us here, one by one, for some ‘important mission’. It was a trap. Lucius has been working here from the start.”
“The Lord Seeker? We must find out why he would do this.” Cassandra demanded, her voice holding not only the sting of betrayal, but empathetic pain at seeing Daniel in such a state.
“Wait, don’t leave me like this.” Daniel pleaded, his voice thin. Cassandra’s eyes lost their fierceness as she was struck with the reality of her apprentice dying in front of her. Yet when she reached for the blade at her hip, a gloved hand stopped her.
“Enough!” Eowyn’s clear voice broke through the fugue of angst growing in the corridor. Both Cassandra and Daniel looked up at her, though Daniel’s eyes were squinting. “Thou shall not meet thine end this day, Sir Daniel.”
“Who are you?” Daniel asked weakly. Cassandra’s eyes switched back and forth from Daniel to Eowyn, a hint of hope entering her expression, like clouds parting after a storm.
Eowyn looked down at Daniel with tenderness, flashing a kind smile. “I am Eowyn. And I, good sir, shall be the one to heal thee."
The Inquisitor knelt down next to Daniel and studied the black veins growing across his face. Her gloved hands cupped his chin to move his head from side to side, murmuring to herself.
“If they did force feed him, I would not do the like, not even to mend.” Eowyn said under her breath before summoning the Erdtree Seal into her open palm. Her other hand traced Daniel’s jaw before she stood. Eowyn’s arms stretched out at her sides and a large, golden sigil appeared on the stone floor below her and the prone apprentice. Her straightened arms made a strange gesture, like a broken clock’s final tick.
‘Order Healing’ was said by none, but felt by the three in the corridor. The miracle of the Golden Order burst into their vision as golden motes of light. Instantly, the black veins growing across Daniel’s face receded with a gasp of shock. He sighed in relief as whatever he was forced to ingest was rendered inert by the otherworldly blessing.
Daniel did not stand up quickly. The healing was exhausting, leaving him fatigued and panting. Cassandra helped him to his feet, and though he gave her a small smile in thanks, his tired and still bloodshot eyes were glued to Eowyn’s benevolent gaze.
“H-how? Who are you, really?” Daniel asked in wonder, his eyes raking across Eowyn’s tall and gleaming form with mystified curiosity. Eowyn’s blue eyes were warm and caring as she cupped Daniel’s face, giving him a final once-over.
“As I have declared before, I am Eowyn, child. Yet, in this realm I am also known as the Herald of Andraste.” Eowyn's dusky murmur was met with a starstruck expression, her moniker giving Daniel the misplaced idea that Eowyn was sent by the Maker’s bride herself.
“The Herald of Andraste? So, the Maker has finally sent someone to rally his faithful.” The gratitude in Daniel’s face mingled with burgeoning reverence.
“Perchance that doth hold true. Whate’er the circumstance, I stand ready to lend mine aid.” Eowyn studied Daniel’s footing, finding it sure and gaining strength. “Canst thou rise on thine own, Daniel? Canst thou wield thine arms in battle?”
Daniel gave Eowyn a firm nod, his gauntleted hand going to the sword at his hip. The scent of death had left him fully, leaving behind only the stench of blood. He moved to stand beside Cassandra without even a limp in his gait. Eowyn’s eyes went from the newly healed apprentice to the stairs leading upward.
Cassandra looked at Eowyn with eyes holding something profound before she faced the stairway as well. Daniel stood stalwart behind them.
They ascended the stairway and exited the fortress, their eyes meeting daylight before resting on a less welcome figure: Lord Seeker Lucius and what seemed to be the last of the Promisers.
Lucius Corin was a tall man, though not as tall as Eowyn, wearing the steel armor of a templar. His hands gripped his longsword and shield as if he already knew their meeting would come to blows. The Lord Seeker’s weathered face held a smug smirk, though it flashed with surprise at seeing Cassandra with an unknown woman and none else but her apprentice.
“Lord Seeker Lucius.” Cassandra’s Nevarran brogue held nothing but contempt. Lucius’ dark eyes went to Eowyn and lingered.
“Cassandra… and with a woman I can only assume is the new Inquisitor.” Lucius Corin’s voice was strong and held a condescending note, as if he knew something they did not. He didn’t even acknowledge Daniel, who had a challenging look on his face and a hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Thou shall not address me, knave.” Eowyn’s azure eyes shone with ire, her red lips curled into a scowl. The Sword of Night and Flame shimmered into her hands and she stepped into the stance of its namesake. The royal blue cloth across her chest plate fluttered with her movement. “Thine betrayal sullies the Order of the Seekers.”
“The Seekers sullied themselves.” Lucius countered, though his footing widened and his grip tightened on his sword. “The Seekers of Truth were once the original Inquisition.” His smirk widened as Eowyn’s eyes narrowed. “ Oh yes, we fought to restore order in a time of chaos long ago as I assume you do now. We sought to remake the world, to make it better. And what did we create? The Chantry. The Circles of Magi. An endless war.”
Eowyn’s eyes flicked over to Cassandra. She saw a shard of doubt taint the pure rage in her companion’s face. The Tarnished cared little for the words of the Lord Seeker, his death and replacement a foregone conclusion in her mind. She stepped forward, sword still raised.
"Thou'st aided the Elder One!” Eowyn’s clear voice cut through the air, making the soldiers surrounding the Lord Seeker shuffle and clutch their weapons. Daniel quietly unsheathed the sword at his hip.
“Corypheus is a monster. His ambition is limited, but that allowed me to use him for the good of the Order.” Lucius continued, enraging Cassandra.
“You lured our entire Order to their deaths!” She snarled. Not even a shred of guilt passed over Lucius’ face.
“There was no other choice.” He answered, and Cassandra violently shook her head.
“You are mad! There is always a choice!” She shot back.
“We are abominations, Cassandra, each one of us Seekers. We created a decaying world and fought to preserve it even as it rotted into this. We had to be stopped.” Lucius’ voice lowered with manufactured contrition. He reached into his armor and pulled out a thick book with the Eye-and-Sword on the cover. His eyes were on Cassandra, though his soldiers watched both women warily.
“See for yourself Cassandra. This holds the secrets of our Order, passed down to me by the last Lord Seeker. Though the war with the mages had already begun, it was not too late for me to do the right thing.” He reached out his hand still holding the book. Cassandra didn’t move, but Eowyn stepped closer.
“Thine words are poison.” Eowyn declared in a low voice. Rellana’s Cameo, a small, ornate portrait tied to her belt shone brightly, and motes of crimson light began to rise from her armor. Eowyn switched her stance, raising the Sword of Night and Flame in a slow arc above her head.
“I have seen the future! I have created a new order to replace the old!” Lucius began to rant, his eyes burning with fervor. “The world will end so we can start a new-”
Eowyn finished her arc and a swathe of scarlet flames erupted from her sword. Lucius hurriedly raised his shield to block the fire racing toward him, sneering as his monologue was cut off. The soldiers closest to him were consumed by flames and burned to ash. The Sword of Night and Flame blinked out of existence and the Frenzied Flame Seal took its place.
Cassandra and Daniel engaged the remaining soldiers, their swords clashing with another’s and her shield blocking an overhead slash. Cassandra turned on her heel and spun to slash the middle of one cultist soldier, and used her shield to push back her other attacker. The Promiser clutched his middle in pain, leaving his face open for a brutal shield bash from Cassandra. The Seeker’s apprentice thrust his sword point at their remaining foe, feinted a horizontal slash before kicking in their knee. The Promiser fell into a kneel, and his cleaved head soon fell beside him.
The Tarnished rushed forward into the Lord Seeker’s guard and in one swift movement pushed away his sword arm and grabbed his head.
“I shall show thee true madness!” Eowyn exclaimed. Her cerulean eyes were suddenly scorched into a sickly yellow as she allowed the Frenzied Flame to flow through her. Xanthic fire blossomed over both figures as Lucius screamed, his weapons falling from his grip, his hands clutching frantically at Eowyn’s hold on his temples. The Lord Seeker’s scream became a keening whine before it was abruptly silenced.
The moment Eowyn released Lucius he sank to his knees, clutching his head with a silent scream. His skin sloughed off charred bones in chunks, cooked by the extreme heat. The yellow fire in the Inquisitor’s eyes cooled to deep blue, though the aura of madness and the smell of burning meat still permeated the area. Cassandra and Daniel’s eyes were on her as they sheathed their weapons.
Eowyn picked the book of secrets up from the ground near the Lord Seeker’s corpse, gave it a long look, then handed it to Cassandra. Her companion took the heavy tome, her expression unreadable. Daniel behind her looked ready to leave the fortress and never return. Cassandra stepped closer to Eowyn and glanced at the burnt remains of Lucius Corin.
“He was insane. He had to be.” She said quietly, as if to convince herself. Eowyn clasped her gloved hand on Cassandra’s shoulder. The Seeker’s hazel gaze was caught by Eowyn’s ocean eyes.
“And a slayer of kin, verily.” Eowyn reminded her. “I harbor no remorse for granting him a fiery end. Though I lament that we had known ere now what treachery hath unfolded. So many lives lost to naught…”
Cassandra lowered her eyes to the book in her hands. Her shoulders were tight, as if she was debating throwing it away. “He could not have destroyed all of us. I refuse to believe that. Let us return to Skyhold. Though I do not know what awaits me there.”
“The welcome return of a staunch ally and friend.” Eowyn replied solidly. Cassandra looked up at her and saw nothing but acceptance on Eowyn’s face. Cassandra’s lips twitched before she turned away.
“Let’s find out. I wish to see what is in this ‘book of secrets’.”
“And what of thee, sir Daniel?” Eowyn asked, bringing attention to the young man with them. He jumped a little but then looked thoughtful.
“I will follow you. Between the two of you I owe my life many times over. I shall go where you wish.” He answered with conviction.
“Thou shalt be a fine addition to mine company!” Eowyn said cheerily, clapping Daniel on the back with a grin.
—-
The return trip to Skyhold from Caer Oswin seemed to fly by in blinks of green farmland and splashes of tepid, ankle-deep waters. The company procured a horse for Daniel, and the three raced back to the fortress in what appeared to be record time.
Though they pushed their mounts to the limit, the trip did need them to stop and make camp more than once. Eowyn yet again simplified the process to a degree that baffled Daniel and Cassandra, though she was more used to it. Tents and sleeping materials appeared from mists, a campfire burst into being with a wave, even food and provisions were provided with a thought. The materials were not created from nothing, Eowyn was holding them in her mysteriously unseen inventory, but to Daniel it was like she was manipulating matter itself.
“The Herald of Andraste is a mage.” Daniel deduced with a nervous wonder. Eowyn smiled and shrugged.
“Verily, tis a gross underestimation of mine abilities.” She replied, her smile becoming a smirk.
When Eowyn’s silver armor shimmered and vanished, replaced with a white shift hemmed slightly above her knees, Daniel sputtered and looked away, his face burning. Eowyn’s playful smirk widened, though before she could tease him, Melina appeared in her customary blue mists directly in front of her.
The Seeker’s apprentice jumped back with a cry, his hand going for a sword at his hip that was no longer there. His panicked gaze swung from his weapon lying innocently against his tent and the woman that seemingly appeared from nowhere.
“W-whoa shit! A spirit!” Daniel exclaimed as he crawled backward toward his sword. Melina gave him a quick glance before dismissing him and focusing on Eowyn.
Cassandra did not jump, but her eyes narrowed on Melina’s slight form, her lip curling unconsciously as she took in the dark cloak shrouding the maiden’s figure. She watched as Melina lowered her hood and stepped closer to the Inquisitor.
Eowyn, who was not only used to Melina’s sudden appearance but longed for it, was quick to embrace her paramour. The blue eyes of the Tarnished met the gold and violet gaze of her maiden and cupped her fair cheek with her hands.
“My dearest maiden,” Eowyn whispered, her soft voice carrying lifetimes of affection. Melina’s normally blank face held a small smile, as if she could not maintain her stoicism so near to her lover. Eowyn’s dreamy expression vanished with a shake of her head and she gestured toward Daniel, who was still stiff and staring at them. “Ah, behold, Melina. This is Daniel, apprentice of Cassandra. We hath delivered him from Caer Oswin.”
Melina nodded but her eyes didn’t move from the face of her Tarnished. They sat on Eowyn’s bedroll facing the bright campfire. The maiden let her head fall on Eowyn’s shoulder, the thin fabric of her shift warmed by the heat of Melina’s touch. A breeze swept through the camp and Eowyn tossed a Warming Stone into the fire, as was her want. The golden waves of healing and warmth spread from the rock outward, lingering on the company. The stiffness in Daniel’s shoulders drained away without conscious thought, and Cassandra sighed before relaxing into a sitting position.
“Dost thou bear tidings, my maiden fair?” Eowyn’s full lips grazed Melina’s ear, her breath sending shivers down the woman’s meridian. “Or perchance thou didst desire my company alone?” The Tarnished grinned at her lover’s reaction but restrained herself from doing more in front of others.
“I wish to ask you for something, Tarnished.” Melina’s dusky voice was low, inaudible for Daniel and Cassandra who were just across the fire. Their brows furrowed in question at the maiden’s low tone.
“Offer a name and it is thine.” Eowyn answered, her love for Melina bordering on zealotry. Melina’s mismatched eyes stared into the campfire for a silent moment.
“Will you tell me a tale from one of your previous lives?” She asked quietly. Eowyn’s heart jolted before resuming a staccato rhythm. Melina wanted her to tell a story from one of the endless lives of her eternal cycle in the Lands Between. Her endless journey could be made into a multitude of tales, some joyous, yet most tragic.
Eowyn wondered what her lover would want to hear. Would she desire a victorious tale depicting Eowyn defeating a demigod, or would she rather hear of Eowyn’s quiet moments with a Melina that wasn’t truly the one by her side now?
“What sort of tale dost thou desire, my dear?” Eowyn murmured. Melina lifted her head from Eowyn’s shoulder and sensually cupped her cheek with a hand, their faces an inch apart. Daniel cleared his throat ostentatiously and looked away, his face red. Cassandra’s carefully blank face morphed into a scowl.
“Tell me of a time when you listened to me about refraining from wielding the Frenzied Flame.” Melina’s soft voice hardened along with her grip on Eowyn’s face. Eowyn wiggled to escape her maiden’s hand and rubbed her cheeks, her eyes reproachful.
“I have dominion o’er the Flame, maiden.” Eowyn countered, her voice holding an edge rarely taken with Melina. The kindling maid’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.
“Your eyes are bloodshot, Eowyn. That accursed fire will blind you,” Melina’s voice went lower still, “if it hasn’t already.”
Eowyn’s hand went to her own face before stopping and balling into a fist. “I am not blind, woman.” Her voice carried a sharpness that stilled her companions.
“Will that be what stops you from using the Flame? Going blind for a spectacle, an over reach of power?” Melina responded just as sharply.
“An overreach? What sayest thou, Melina? Was it not thee who set to abandon me, thine own Tarnished, ere I could pierce mine flesh with the Unalloyed Needle?” Eowyn stood from her spot near the fire, looking down at her beloved with hurt and exposed resentment. Melina’s eyes were calm as she met Eowyn’s gaze, but her hands gripped her skirt tightly.
“You let the Three Fingers take you!” Melina raised her voice higher than a murmur for the first time. Eowyn’s eyes widened before a steely fire burned behind them. Cassandra and Daniel watched, frozen and enthralled by the otherworldly dispute.
“Only to save thee, Melina!” Eowyn called out, her voice raw and desperate. “I shall choose such horror a thousand times if it assureth thou shalt live and not die!”
Melina said nothing, her polychromatic eyes wide and buoyed by unshed tears. Eowyn stood tall, though her lips were trembling and her eyes shining.
“The Frenzied Flame hath no hold o’er me, my beloved maiden.” Eowyn whispered, the dusk in her voice dousing the fury. She leaned forward, dropping to one knee before Melina. “I felt its grasp release me the moment I pierced my breast with this,” Eowyn produced the Unalloyed Needle into her hand with a shimmer of light before dismissing it just as quickly. “I can wield its flames, and perchance they shall burn me as well, yet never shall I succumb to its madness again.”
Eowyn and Melina embraced, breaking the tension that stifled the campground. Cassandra let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and Daniel’s shoulders slumped from vicarious relief. Melina’s eyes were closed as she squeezed Eowyn tight against her, before snapping open. She pushed Eowyn back to arm’s length and regarded her with new suspicion.
“Again?” She repeated the word like a question, her smoky voice holding a warning. Eowyn’s blue eyes looked anywhere but at Melina, her mouth twisting into a playful smirk. The Tarnished put her forehead against her lover’s and lowered her voice still.
“Oh, Melina, my love, I tire of quarrels. Canst thou hold fast to thine trust in me? If thou desire an oath to never embrace the Frenzied Flame again thou hast it ere the words leave my lips.” Eowyn promised with as open an expression on her face as she can muster. Melina’s eyes scanned Eowyn silently.
“Fine. That will do, Tarnished.” Melina raised her chin and kissed Eowyn quickly, but deeply, before shimmering away, blue mist taking her form. Eowyn fell backward onto her bedroll with a massive sigh, her long pale legs stretched out in front of her. She looked over at Daniel and Cassandra who looked like the court’s play was cut short with one of its actors right next to them.
“No questions, prithee. I sought not to deceive when I confessed mine exhaustion. I shan't tarry to sleep. May the Dark Moon watch over thee both.” With that decoration Eowyn slipped into her bedroll and was breathing deeply within moments. Daniel looked over at Cassandra, who looked back at him with pursed lips. Then she shrugged and shook her head.
“Do not ask me. That has never happened before.” Cassandra muttered, getting into her own bedroll. Daniel looked back at the fire, taking in the stillness and quiet of the night.
“Much better than dying in a trap.” He mumbled to himself before laying down to sleep.