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9:37 Dragon
Mother takes her to the village outside of Redcliffe Castle often, saying that she needs to know the people their family is responsible for. Papa does it too when he is home. Lydia doesn't understand much of what they say, but she knows that it is important. Their family has an important duty to these people and one day she will take up that duty from her father. Papa is a very important man - the king's uncle, an ambassador (she doesn't know what that is, only that it takes him away from home often), and the arl - and mother is a Hero. That means something, which means Lydia has to mean something too.
Mother has been quiet for the last few days and hasn’t left the study she shares with papa for anything other than meals, so Lydia is excited to have her mother back, even just for a few hours. Papa has been away in Orlais for a few weeks with Aunt Isolde at some duke's party, so it has been a bit lonely in the castle with mother closed away.
The path down to the village was recently paved with smooth stones on top of the mud, so Lydia doesn’t have to worry about her dress getting dirty as she hops along the larger stones. Miss Kaitlyn calls after her to be careful, even though Lydia has watched Miss Kaitlyn's brother running up and down the path with some of the other children from the village - it can't be that dangerous. Mother always pauses as they pass the collapsed windmill along the path. There is a small garden of Andraste’s Grace flowers at the base of it, and as she does every time, she plucks a flower and tucks it into Lydia’s braid. She reminds Lydia to check the hidden door in the mill, the one section that is still safe to stand in, and asks where the door leads to.
“It goes to the castle,” Lydia groans. “I know, mama!”
Mother takes a deep breath and her hands are clasped tightly in front of her. “I need to know that you will remember if you ever need to use it.”
“Um. It leads to the dungeons, and there’s a door that leads up to the castle.”
“Exactly. Thank you, pup.”
Mother pulls her in and holds her tight. Lydia can still feel mother’s hands trembling. Her own hands feel cold and sore. When mother steps back her eyes go wide and her face goes pale.
“Lydia, where did all of that ice come from?”
Lydia looks down at her hands. The skin is red and purple with ice crystals in patches. Her throat closes up. It isn’t the first time, but it scares her every time. She doesn’t want mother to know, even if she doesn’t know why.
“Did you make that?” mother prompts again. “It’s alright if you did, love. I just need to know.”
She nods. Mother glances at Miss Kaitlyn then pulls Lydia into another hug, even tighter than before, and her whole body is shaking now. Lydia can feel the ice spreading up her wrists then her forearms and she just starts to wail. She’s scared and cold and tired and she just clings to mother as tightly as she can. Mother scoops her up and settles Lydia on her hip while making soothing sounds and hushing her.
“You’re alright pup,” mother murmurs. “We’ll go back to the castle for now and get this all cleaned up. I have you, my darling girl.”
Father returns in the evening, but Lydia barely sees him before mother pulls him into the study. Lydia has been told she shouldn’t listen to private conversations but she stands just a few feet from the door so she can hear them. She knows they are talking about her.
“Oh, Maker. You’re sure?”
“I know what I saw, she was nearly frostbitten.”
“We could... we could tell Surana. They can help teach her here.”
“Teagan.”
“We trust them, we know them, they are her godparent for Andraste’s sake!”
“I know! I know, I don’t want to send her away, I just-”
“At least she would be home, and safe, and-”
“I refuse to repeat what happened to Connor!”
“We wouldn’t! This is completely different!”
“You can’t know that! All it took was Jowan leaving a book in reach just once. I trust Alet, but they can’t have their eye on her every second of the day. I can’t lose everyone I love again!”
“Elissa...”
“We are going to lose her no matter what, but we can keep her safe. I can’t put that responsibility on her. Don’t ask that of me.”
“Come here. I... I know you’re right. Damn it...”
Her cousin Alistair’s partner, Alet Surana, arrives two weeks later. They explain that Lydia must leave home and live at the tower across the lake and she can't come back home. She is a mage and mages need to be trained so they don't get hurt or hurt anyone else. She will no longer inherit Redcliffe from her father, she won't take up her duties as a lady, and she can never come home again. She cries so hard she is sick with it, no matter how many times they try to say she didn't do anything wrong and she is not being punished.
Mother and father help gather some of Lydia’s belongings; Alet refers to them as the things they’ll let her keep. Two sets of her plainest clothes, a book about her mother’s family’s history, and a set of hair pins.
“I can also bring more for her when she’s a little older,” they whisper to mother when they think she isn’t listening from the hall, “but this is safer for now. Especially considering... everything, we don’t want to bring any attention.”
“If... If you’re certain.”
“Irving will look out for her, and Greagoir is extending a lot more good will than I would have expected. Wynne and I will check on her whenever we return, and we have friends who will help. The templars will be watching Connor until his Harrowing, but he’ll know how to protect her from them. We’ll make this work as best we can.”
Mother cries - she has been doing that a lot, but only when she thinks Lydia can't see - and cusses. "I know, I know. We're lucky. It's still... I'd rather she have someone there, but Maker..."
Lydia creeps away from the door after that. She doesn’t want - need - to know the rest. She can't truly sneak away, not with all of the guards and staff around the castle, but she still tries. She stops in front of her parents' study and tries the door. Sometimes if both mother and papa are home they'll leave it unlocked and she can hide away for just a little longer.
“There you are, sweetheart - always where I least expect to find you.”
She startles and spins around to face her father. He smiles but it looks odd. The feelings she's been pushing down finally bubble up her throat and she bursts into tears. Papa drops to one knee and she rushes into his arms, the safest place in the world. He hugs her so tight it hurts a little but she doesn’t dare tell him to stop.
“I don’t wanna go,” she wails for the thousandth time since they told her. He softly shushes her but she can’t breathe around the mass of emotion in her chest. “I d-don’t wanna! I want to stay home, please, please don’t make me go! I’ll be good! Don’t make me go!”
He takes a deep breath and holds her even tighter. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. My sweet girl...”
“Papa please!”
“You have to go,” he says, his voice breaking throughout, “but your mother and I will always love you just as much. You won’t see us for a time, but we’ll figure something out. You’ll have your cousin - just stay with him and he’ll help you.”
“I don’t want him, I want you!”
“I know, darling. Andraste forgive me...”
He doesn’t let go of her until she falls asleep hours later. She wakes hours later in her parents’ bed with her father sitting beside her, head in his hands as he cries. She has never seen him cry before. She can feel the emotions building up inside her again so she squeezes her eyes shut and buries her face in the pillow. Maybe if she hides in here the nightmare will end and she won’t have to leave home.
They leave the castle two days later. Lydia leaves behind her parents, her home, her title, and everything she has ever known, and her parents do not stop Surana from taking her. She can no longer be Lady Lydia, daughter of Arl Teagan Guerrin and Lady Elissa Cousland - she is just another mage.
It takes three days to reach the boat dock that brings people to the tower. She knows the tower in the lake is where the mages live. They can’t see it from the castle, but father used to tell her about it, and her cousin who lives there. She asked once if they could visit and he said when she was a little older she could go with mother.
Mother and father are gone, and she isn’t allowed to see them anymore. They can’t write letters or visit, nor can her aunt and uncle. Alet promises to come back, but they said they can’t bring letters because it might get her in trouble. Even Alistair can’t see her, even though he’s the king and no one can tell kings what to do, which makes the Knight Captain laugh when she tells him.
“The Chantry holds authority far above kings,” he says with a smirk. “Especially ones who already insist on meddling on the behalf of the mages they sleep with.”
She doesn’t know what that means and she doesn’t want to. She wants to go home.
The only person she can talk to is a cousin she has never met, Connor. Mother and father spoke of him sometimes, stories of a soft-spoken and gentle boy. Looking up at the irritable teenager they plopped her in front of, she is starting to doubt their judgment.
“I don’t want to be here,” she whispers into her new clothes. Mage robes, dark blue and purple, because she is an apprentice now, and not the young lady of a noble household.
“And I don’t want to be in charge of a toddler. No one gets what they want here.”
She sniffles and rubs at her eyes. Her hands are cold again. “Mama and papa said you were nice,” she mumbles.
“Well... Uncle has to say that kind of thing. Not so sure about your mother.”
“I want to go home.”
He winces and stands from his seat to walk around the table to her. She turns away and he sighs. “Look. This isn’t a great place to be, nowhere near as nice as home, but it is what it is. You’ll have teachers and make friends your own age, and I’ll show you everything, alright?”
She starts to nod, but breathing in is hard and she feels like she’s choking. She bursts into tears. The feelings build up in her stomach and she has to get them out and she tries to shake her hands out but nothing is working. She’s scared, she wants to go home, she hates it here, she just, just wants her parents, and she can’t talk, and- and-
He swears and stands back up. “We need to be quiet, okay? Just... uh...”
He hugs her, and slowly rocks from side to side. She pushes back but he just holds her tighter. Eventually the feeling in her stomach settles, still unpleasant but it doesn’t hurt quite so much. He doesn’t let go. She is scared and sad and misses her parents, but he is staying.
“I’m not good at any of this,” he says once she is calm again, “but I’ll keep trying. We’ll do this together. I promise.”
“Time to get back to the dorms,” the templar at the door calls out. Then, more quietly, “I held them off as long as I could.”
“Thank you, Ser Percy.”
Connor finally lets go and takes a step back. He holds his hands out for her and she slips her still freezing hands on top so he can help her stand from the chair. The way the robes slide against her skin sends a shock down her spine. She hates them. Mama always made sure her clothes didn’t hurt. Her eyes well up with tears again and he squeezes her hand softly.
“They’ll have your bed ready by now,” he says with a smile. “They’re not like the ones back home, but I’ll show you how to make them a little better.”
She nods.
9:40 Dragon
Early in the morning, Lydia is woken up before the sun by the other apprentices gathering in between her bunk and her neighbor’s and whispering. One of them, Elissabeth, who is a year younger than her and has only been at the tower for a few months, sees her wake and jumps onto the mattress beside her. Lydia tries to shove her off but Elissabeth won’t move.
“Your big brother is one of the grown ups, right?” she blurts out. Several apprentices shush her, so she lowers her voice to a whisper. “All the grown ups are going somewhere but we’re not, did he tell you anything?”
Lydia frowns. “Connor is my cousin.”
“You know what I meant!” Elissabeth is shushed again. “Did he say anything or not?!”
“He just said to listen to Enchanter Solona when she takes us for lessons,” she says.
A few of them groan and whine. One of the boys makes a face at her. “You never know anything.”
“That’s not true.”
“Maybe we could ask one of the enchanters when they take us to lessons?” someone else suggests.
“They’re not taking us to lessons, stupid!”
Elissabeth finally gets off of Lydia’s bed to argue with the others. Lyra, an elven girl from Highever, climbs down from her bunk and sits on the floor beside Lydia. She likes Lyra - Lyra doesn’t think she’s stupid like most of the others. She even reads to Lydia from the prayer book one of the Chantry sisters gave her. Lydia doesn’t really have friends - most of them think she’s silly and simple and make fun of her for staying with Connor as much as possible - but Lyra is the closest she has to one.
“D’you think it’s something bad?” Lyra asks. “They’ve all been acting weird lately. Enchanter Lillian told us not to talk to any templars.”
“Connor would have told me if it was bad,” Lydia says confidently.
“Only if he knew. Maybe they don’t know either.”
“What are you all doing out of your beds?”
Everyone freezes as Enchanter Solona, who stays with the apprentices to watch over them and make sure they behave, walks in. She’s always nice to them, but today she looks upset. She has one templar at her side. She never comes to them with templars - they aren’t allowed in the younger apprentices’ dorm. No one answers her. Lydia wonders if she could slip back down and pretend to be asleep so she doesn’t get in trouble too.
“Everyone go and get dressed,” Enchanter Solona says firmly. “Quickly, now.”
“It’s too early!”
“Do we still have lessons?”
“Where is everyone going?”
Enchanter Solona looks more serious than Lydia has ever seen her. “No time for questions, get dressed! Now!”
Ser Percy, Enchanter Solona introduces him as, leads them in a silent march down to the lowest floor of the tower, and then further down still. After going through a maze full of rooms that look like the cells under Redcliffe Castle her mother showed her, they end up crowded into a cold, dimly lit room she doesn’t recognize. There are only eleven of them. There should be more. She can see her breath and there is frost on the empty glass bottles lining the shelves facing her. Enchanter Solona orders them away from the stairs leading to where the bottles are - she says the floor is covered in broken glass. Lydia can smell smoke and something bitter when she moves too close to the steps.
The adults are all meeting in the Harrowing Chamber, an older apprentice whispers. They’re voting on something. His tutor told him it was about the Chantry, but wouldn’t tell him anything else. No one knows what that means. Everyone knows that something is wrong, but not what, or when, or why. Enchanter Solona refuses to tell them - only that they need to be here because it is safe. They’re all too afraid to ask what they need to be kept safe from.
They are safe here, Enchanter Solona says, because the door requires a password, and both a templar and a mage to open. The only people who know the password are Knight Commander Carroll, First Enchanter Irving, Enchanter Solona, and Ser Percy - and the First Enchanter is the one who told Solona and Ser Percy to bring them all here. Lydia doesn’t point out that there are an awful lot of templars and mages in the tower, and they can just break down the door if they really want to get in.
When Ser Percy left the storage room to see what was happening upstairs, Lydia begged him to look for Connor so he would know where to find her. He said he would try, but it feels like it has been hours and he hasn’t come back. She can hear screaming and strange sounds from the other side of the door. Enchanter Solona said something bad was happening but they would be safe, but Lydia isn’t safe without Connor. He’ll come looking for her, and he needs to know how to find her. Papa told her to always stay with Connor.
The large door swings open and slams against the wall. Enchanter Solona rushes forward but it is not Ser Percy bringing them news - it is Knight Commander Carroll, a number of templars with their helmets obscuring their faces, and a pale man with shiny golden robes that look brand new aside from the blood splattered across the hem. Enchanter Solona tries to cast at them but Lydia can feel the templars silence all magic in the air like metal against her teeth.
“Godric, how could you?!” Enchanter Solona screams.
“They won’t hurt the children, they promised, they just want to keep the children safe!”
“After they kill everyone else?!”
“They... They wouldn’t d-”
One of the templars stabs the man in one side and out the other, then rips it out violently, and the man collapses. Enchanter Solona tries casting again but a different templar rushes up and runs her through as well before tossing her body aside. Everyone is screaming. One of the older children, a boy named Andrew who always makes fun of the girls when the templars make them cut their hair, vomits all over his shoes. The pressure of the templar’s Silence grows and it feels like Lydia’s head might implode. She can’t move. The templars advance on them.
The first one who tries running is Lyra, and she is slain on the spot. The blade goes clean through her stomach and twists.
“You will be safe at the Maker’s side, once you atone for the sin of your existence,” the Knight Commander says. “We must cleanse this place of your rot and corruption.”
The Knight Commander turns and leaves, signaling the templars as he goes. Lydia tries to melt back into the wall as the templars work their way across the room. A couple of children break free and some templars take chase. She wants Connor. She wants her parents. She wants Alistair to rush in and save her like kings and queens always do in the stories Connor reads with her now that she’s old enough.
Something touches her hand and she screams, bringing both hands up to cover her face as she drops to a crouch. She doesn’t want to see them coming. She doesn’t want to see all of the bodies. Her legs feel like jelly and her whole body is shaking.
Close your eyes, a soft voice whispers to her. Do not open them, whatever you hear.
What? She doesn’t understand. She squeezes her eyes shut anyway. She can see a bright light past her eyelids but she keeps them stubbornly shut. There are more screams, gurgling noises, screeching metal, but she does not open her eyes. They told her not to and she is so scared she can’t refuse them. The sounds eventually fade in a series of sighs and gasps.
You are safe for now. Leave this place - Connor is waiting for you.
She opens her mouth, but she can’t speak. She doesn’t know where Connor is, she doesn’t know where to go, Enchanter Solona led them down so many hallways-
The other door will lead you to him. Go!
Lydia finally opens her eyes, and wishes she never had.
Enchanter Solona and the strange man are lying down along one wall, along with six of the other children, and they are not moving. The rest are missing, possibly escaped. (She hopes they escaped.) Around them are piles of armor, metal scraps, abandoned swords, and meat. They may have been templars once but they aren’t anymore. She can smell their skin burning and bile rises in her throat. There is a thin path through the corpses sullied only by blood, but her slippers are already soaked in it and they squelch as she steps through the room. The hem of her robes are just as damp and heavy. She doesn’t bother lifting the skirt like her mama taught her.
The wooden door is heavy enough she has to lean into it with all of her weight. She stumbles into the main hall of the tower, and immediately feels sick again. There are so many bodies, so much blood. There is more screaming in the distance. She can’t breathe and the walls are starting to spin. She has to stop again and cover her eyes.
“Lydia!”
She looks up as Connor kneels beside her, and she bursts into tears. He gathers her up and holds her tightly. His hands are shaking. She clings to him, grasping at his shirt even as frost climbs up the fabric.
“Thank the Maker I found you. Are you hurt?” She shakes her head with a sob. He softly hushes her. “We need to get out of the tower. I’ll carry you, hold onto this.”
Connor hands her a bundle, then stands with her still in his arms, though he moves her so he’s almost cradling her, and she wraps her arms around the bundle. She tucks her face into his shoulder and squeezes her eyes shut. There is a large door, and then Connor is speaking with someone, but Lydia can’t focus on what they say. The world wobbles a bit and she tenses up, waiting for everything to fall.
“I’ve got you, Lyddie. We’re on a boat, we’re going across the lake. I’m not going anywhere without you,” he murmurs to her. “Just keep your eyes closed until I say.”
She focuses on the rocking of the waves. There are other people in the boat and she can hear crying, but it doesn’t feel like it’s coming from her. It’s hard to tell. Everything feels hard at the moment. Eventually the boat jerks to a stop and she grasps at Connor’s shirt again. He runs his hand across her back and shushes her.
“It’s alright, we’re getting off the boat now,” he whispers.
Finally the world stops moving quite so much, but Connor does not set her on the ground, and she does not let go of him.
“Where are we supposed to go now?” someone hisses.
“Anywhere away from here! They’ll come across the lake soon, we have to go-”
“Go where?!”
“Does it matter?!”
“We need to go back for more people, we can’t leave them behind!”
A tight ball settles in her chest and she hums to push against it. No more fighting, no more yelling, it’s too loud again and people are crying and-
“Maker’s breath,” Connor mumbles. “Eyes still closed, Lyddie?”
She nods into his shoulder. He shifts her around so his hold feels more secure, and then he starts walking away from the group. The knot slowly untangles as the voices grow fainter.
She doesn’t sleep, not really, but she doesn’t know how long they’ve been walking. Eventually he gets her attention with a pat on her shoulder. She can hear water - not as loud as the lake, but enough that she can drift in the noise.
“Alright, let’s... Here. Eyes still closed, but take off those robes. I promise you can open them again soon.”
She does as she’s told, down to her smallclothes, grateful to finally be rid of the sticky slippers. He tips her forward so she can hear the water even more clearly, and scoops some of it over her hair. She whines at how cold it is but he just shushes her again. When he’s finally done he moves to her hands and arms, then her calves, then her face, scrubbing so hard tears build up in her eyes.
“Put these on, but eyes still closed.”
He hands her a bundle of clothes. It’s hard to figure them out without her sight but she’s able to tug on a rough and itchy shirt and stiff breeches. The shirt scratches at her skin everywhere it touches. She claws at her shoulder and yanks the collar of the shirt away from her skin. Water splashes beside her. She tucks her knees to her chest and hides her face in her lap so she can open her eyes without seeing anything. She is breaking the rule, but she can’t keep them closed anymore. Her head hurts from squinting so hard, and her stomach aches.
“Alright, you can open your eyes now I think.”
She looks up and squints again against the dim light. The sun is already setting. The fighting broke out in the morning. How far did they go? When did they even leave the tower? Her breath catches again and she clenches her jaw to hold back how her lip quivers. Connor is dressed similar to her, only he has boots on. The pile of discarded robes lies next to what she now sees is a small stream running through a forest. She can still see the blood on them. The only remains are her ruined slippers, which he is trying to dry over a very small flame in his palm.
“Sorry, these have to last until we can get to a village where we can get you proper shoes,” he says with a wince. “And a better shirt.”
She doesn’t want to lose her robes, but she can’t wear them like this. Even looking at them makes her nauseous. There was just so much blood. But they are hers. Her robes, hers, that were softened by an older apprentice who saw her crying over how uncomfortable they were, until it didn’t hurt to wear them anymore. Connor watches her for a moment before turning to the pile, and ripping off some of the fabric without any mud or gore. The scrap of pretty blue and purple is frayed and wet, but it’s hers.
“Let’s tie your hair up while it dries.”
He moves behind her and gathers her hair at the back of her head. The gentle touch along her skull is enough to finally shake the tears free from her eyes.
“What are we going to do?” she asks quietly.
He hesitates, then ties her hair with the fabric scrap. “We... We’re going to head to your Uncle Fergus. Did you ever visit him in Highever?”
“Mama can’t go to Highever,” she whispers, repeating words she heard years ago that she didn’t understand. “Why can’t we go home?”
“It’s not safe, not yet. But we’ll write to your parents once we’re there, I’m sure they’ll come running.”
“Your parents too?”
“Yes,” he mumbles, “my parents too. Right.”
Her stomach clenches. “I’m hungry.”
He exhales. “Right. Food. Right. I’ll, uh, go find something. Don’t move. Unless you see a person, then just - run. I’ll find you. And here, put your slippers back on.”
“They’re wet,” she argues.
“I know, b-”
“I don’t wanna wear them,” she continues, more frustrated tears running down her cheeks. She tries to scrub them away but they reappear again and her head hurts even more. “I can’t, I can’t, I don’t wanna-”
“Lyddie-”
“Please, please, please, I don’t, don’t-”
“Lydia!”
He grabs her upper arm and squeezes. She whimpers and yanks her arm back, but he holds steady.
“Lydia, I need you to listen to me,” he says firmly. She opens her mouth and he squeezes again. “This is serious. I know this is hard and you don’t like it, but please just do this for me.”
She nods. He releases her and is quiet as she pulls the damp slippers on. They don’t even make the ground any softer. She can’t see the blood so much anymore on the dark fabric but her feet are freezing and her skin starts to itch there too.
“Thank you. I’m sorry, this is just... really important. If we need to run, I want you to be safe.”
She hums and rocks back and forth. Everything feels wrong.
He pulls her into another hug. “It’s alright. I’ll be right back, okay? Remember, you see anyone, just run. Oh, um, here, this will keep you warm.”
He opens up the bundle the clothes were held in - a warm wool cloak - and drapes it around her shoulders. She watches him pick up the pile of robes and head further into the woods until she can’t see him anymore. It’s getting darker, but there are no lanterns or magelights like in the tower. She stares into the trees until they blend together.
Connor returns with a small loaf of sweet-smelling bread and something that looks like leather. She grimaces at the leather when he holds it out to her.
“It’s fruit,” he insists. “We’ll have some now and then for breakfast in the morning.”
“Where’d you get it?” she asks quietly.
“I just... ran into someone. A friend of your mother’s - she’s the one who got us that letter from your parents, remember that?”
The leather is sticky and a little bitter, but she’s hungry enough it doesn’t matter. “We can’t keep it,” she repeats what he told her when they read the letter.
“That’s the one.”
“She’s near the lake.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not safe there.”
“It isn’t. That’s why I asked you to stay here.”
She says nothing to that.
“We need to walk a little further today before we sleep,” he says. “I just want to get as far away as possible.”
“What if the templars find us?”
“We’ll tell them we’re just siblings traveling to find family. It’s almost the truth.”
She thinks about Enchanter Solona and Andrew and Lyra and the pool of blood on the floor of the hidden chamber.
“I’m scared,” she mumbles.
He sits beside her and pulls her into a tight hug. “I know, but I promise I’ll keep you safe. We’ll make it to your uncle and then your parents, and everything will be alright.”