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Valour

Summary:

What if the Inquisitor had to choose, not between Hawke and Alistair or Stroud, but between Hawke and the Hero of Ferelden. In this case, between two cousins who are shattered over losing the other and leaving the family they have built despite all odds. -- This short fic has been saved in my documents as simply "Leave Eda in the Fade" for years. Finally time to connect it to the rest of my works about her. This is an AU and isn't canon to Maker's Breath.

Notes:

I posted this on tumblr ages ago, but I wanted to put it here where all my other Dragon Age stuff is!

Work Text:

Eda’s voice caught in her throat as she spoke, “Freddie, you need to go. Varric needs you, Ella needs you, Kirkwall needs you. It is my duty to fix the wardens’ mistakes.”

“Bullshit,” Hawke responded, her blue eyes flaring like the hottest flame. “You’ve got an order to rebuild. Not to mention your husband and daughter.”

Eda spoke over her cousin even as she watched Freddie’s mouth twist in bitterness, “Mira is barely two months old; it will be far less painful for her to lose one parent than for Ella to lose the only one she has.” A wave of guilt flooded her chest as she spoke the next words, “You took her father away from her before you knew she existed. You’re not allowed to take away her mother too.”

Freddie’s face fell, first in horror at her cousin’s hurtful words and then in deep sadness over the truth of them. “Eda, that isn’t fair,” she began.

But Eda shook her head, “Mira has Alistair. Ella didn’t know Anders, and so she doesn’t know to miss him. It will be the same for Mira. I will not let you make an orphan of Ella.” Eda stood her ground, looking pointedly from Hawke to the Inquisitor and back.

Nazerah Adaar spoke, “Senior Warden Amell.” Eda smiled tightly and inclined her head. “It has been an honour, my lady.”

“Likewise,” Eda responded. She braced herself on her stave and watched with watery eyes as the others made for the rift. She gazed up at the monster before her and suddenly felt a number of presences at her side.

Behind her stood the spirit she had been bound to for more than a decade: Valour. He stood as tall and strong as he had at her Harrowing, covered in heavy plate head to toe. On her right stood two spirits she had known in her travels, both depicted as the friends she had loved: Faith smiled at her wryly as Wynne, and Justice smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as Anders. Also at her back stood Wisdom, sculpting itself into First Enchanter Irving, a kindness on his face giving her no ill will even as she had been the one to end his life with a straying spell.

But at her left, one more spirit stood, hand clasped in hers. This spirit was small, and while she had not known it in life, she felt the closest to it. She looked down at the spirit to see the radiant face of a young boy, the same age as Ella, a brush of freckles across his nose and a too-long fringe of red hair falling into his amber eyes. She knew his face from her dreams: her son. She had lost him long before he would ever have been born, and yet here he stood, beside her in the Fade. But, like her companions, these were merely the spirits they embodied or were bound to, and the child standing before her was not her son Duncan, but a spirit of Joy who took his form.

His hand felt warm in hers. The spirits around her gave her comfort in the endless abyss of the Fade even as the horrific monster of the Nightmare hovered above her. She raised her staff, unleashing volley after volley of spells until her mana waned. The spirits around her dimmed and vanished, providing her with their own power, first Wisdom, then Faith, Justice, and Joy until she stood with Valour alone, just as she had in the Fade twelve years ago. But the monster before her was much greater than the Desire demon she broke from Connor, and even Valour was snuffed out before the beast collapsed onto the ground, and Eda stood panting, tears streaming down her cheeks, no strength left to heal the gash in her side.

She had survived for the moment, but her vision was dimming quickly, and she knew a simple healing spell would not do enough. She would have to wait until her mana regenerated enough for her to lifeward herself, and she did not know if she had that long. She leaned against the sheer cliff beside her and prayed for Alistair, for Mira, for Freddie, for Ella, for the Inquisitor, for her friends in Amaranthine, and for Thedas. Eda breathed deeply and cast lifeward. It threatened to fizzle out, but held. Her knees went weak, and she slid to the ground. She was unconscious for but a second before her eyes shot back open. Her hand grasped at the wound in her side and felt a thin, membranous scab holding her innards inside.

Breathing a sigh of relief and exhaustion, she looked up to see one more spirit, Duty. He stood there in full Warden armour, gloved hand outstretched to her. She took it and smiled into the face of the man who had saved her from prison, death, or tranquility twelve years before, her son’s namesake, Duncan.

His voice was as warm and solid as she remembered it, “Let’s find you a way home.” He pulled her from the floor and led her deeper into the Fade. She did not know where the next closest Rift would be, but they had been appearing all across Ferelden and Orlais, surely they could find one.