Lyric simply and calmly stared him down when he told her she couldn’t be serious. She didn’t even blink, she just waited for Tiberius to come around to her way of seeing things. When he brought up the food she shrugged. I’m sure there’s something the dog will eat, contrary to popular beliefs dogs are actually omnivores. I had a dog as a kid that used to LOVE apple slices. Gobbled them right up. Probably the happiest memory she had from her childhood, that dog, but then she was sent to the Circle in the Free Marches and never knew what happened to the dog.
Lyric beamed a bit as Tiberius stepped in to help, in her mind it was a true measure of a person with how they treated lesser animals. This was more telling of who Tiberius really was more than anything else that had transpired since they had met, and she took it as a good sign. She tipped her head as Tiberius made the observation about the dog being a girl.
Oh goodness, I had a dog as a kid named Bleu, but I don’t know if that fits. Coral or River perhaps, but I don’t know. OH, maybe Nadia, it means hopeful overcomer. I feel like she’s probably had to overcome a lot since becoming lost from her family. Lyric loved when things all worked out in the end. Not only were they saving an animal in need, but it was showing Lyric that perhaps things would work out in the end with Tiberius, he clearly had a soft spot if he was willing to indulge Lyric with keeping the dog. Maybe he wasn’t just another useless noble asshole like her parents were.
Then Lyric realised, she hadn’t actually stopped to figure out why the horses had stopped to begin with, so once they got back to the carriage, she looked in front. The dog seemed happy to follow them, clearly not wanting to be all on its own out in the blighted wild any more. She frowned at the log, and then raised her staff, simple levitation spell she figured, took no time to move the log.
Could dogs really eat apples? Weren’t the seeds slightly poisonous? Tiberius watched Lyric try on a handful of names for the dog, slightly confused. She was so much more animated about this topic than anything previous, up to and including major aspects of her own future. The woman really liked dogs, he supposed.
“Alright. Nadia it is.” He felt vaguely that it was preferable to give animals silly names, rather than person ones, but it was far from a hill to kill or die on. “I’ll be the talk of the town, returning home with not one but two Orlesian— ladies.” He conjured a bowl out of ice and the water to fill it, watching the wolfdog drink and make a mess of the interior before curling up on the opposite bench. He smiled wryly at Lyric as the two of them packed back into the carriage, forced to sit together until Nadia deigned to move.
The hours and miles slipped by. They broke into their provisions at last and Tiberius fed half his sandwich to the dog by hand, casting suspicious glances at Lyric.
“She’s too well behaved. You must be up to something.” They were by now far out into dilapidated farmland, most not cleared for spring planting. But in any disaster, there were some who refused to evacuate. As they came around another bend, Tiberius could make out a thick pillar of smoke, something hidden far into the trees along a dirt track that branched from the road.
“I mislike that.” Too dark and thick for a hearth fire. He cast a glance at Lyric then turned them down the track. The screams reached them first, throaty and inhuman. A burning barn, a large farmhouse – figures in the yard, battering at doors and windows, ripping at the fallen body of an unfortunate plow horse. All in that spiky scrap armor that darkspawn seemed to always wear.
Tiberius was out and running before the carriage rolled to a stop, staff in hand. Darkness roiled over the ground in a great drift, grasping at ankles as the darkspawn began to turn, hearing Nadia’s alarmed barks if not him.
Tiberius’s agreement with the name Nadia made Lyric smile, taking in a dog might have seemed like a small thing, but to Lyric it was quite the opposite. In her mind how a person treated lesser creatures was more indicative of their true personality than how they treated other humans. Then she chuckled at his comment about bringing home two Orlesian ladies. Even though she hadn’t considered herself Orlesian for a very long time, it still amused her. Then she tipped her head at the well behaved comment.
Oh, I think she just realises she’s finally safe and with people who plan to care about her. Dogs were incredibly smart when they wanted to be and even though Nadia was suspicious of them at first, they had given her no reasons to fear them and had only put her best interest first. As they approached the farmland, Lyric looked out the window as Tiberius commented that he didn’t like what he was seeing up ahead.
Lyric had expected there could be trouble on the road, and although she wasn’t primarily a fighting mage, it wasn’t something she shied away from if the need arose, like with the mage rebellion. Even if her biggest injury during the rebellion had been when she was in the process of casting offensive magic and ended up falling ass over tits down an embankment and breaking her arm, but she definitely didn’t want Tiberius to hear that story, especially now as they were about to face darkspawn.
Lyric instructed Nadia to stay in the carriage, hoping the dog listened, the last thing she needed was worrying about the dog, and currently the dog was in no shape to fight anything. She quickly followed after Tiberius, looking ahead trying to count how many darkspawn there were, the numbers seemed manageable, not that she’d ever fought one before, but her biggest concern was getting to the darkspawn before they got inside the farmhouse.
She didn't hesitate, launching a barrage of ice-based spells towards the darkspawn, aiming to slow them down and provide some cover for Tiberius. It was a far cry from her usual healing magic, but dire situations called for dire measures.
This had not been his smartest move. A more cautious man might have stayed on the main road and ignored the smoke. Counted his blessings that the darkspawn were distracted elsewhere. Tiberius had never been very good at being cautious though – at least not about the right things.
His snare had caught half a dozen darkspawn, binding them to the earth. This was his first time face to face with this enemy and his initial thought was that they looked not so different from undead. White eyes, pale bloated flesh, ragged voices from corrupted throats. He sensed no animating demon or spirit, however. It was all just the baleful poison of their blood. If there had been fewer — …
The closest two sprouted bloody needles of ice and – for the span of a breath – Tiberius worried that Despair had slipped the leash of his skin. Of the monsters, a genlock recovered first, hefted a crossbow and let fly a bolt. Tiberius ducked behind Lyric’s wall of ice a moment too late, bruising bone-scraping pain blooming in his left leg. He bit his tongue, tasting iron. His hand found the bolt up to the fletching in his lower thigh. A choked spell and a flash of violet light scabbed the wound over and did nothing at all for the pain.
Leaning on the ice, he reached out and altered his spell. The shadows rose higher, swallowing the remaining monsters up in sticky bands. Then they turned sharp and inward, piercing and slicing. Panting, he searched for Lyric. Found her.
“You didn’t tell me you could do ice. Not fair.” Groaning, Tiberius took to his feet and limped toward the farmhouse. He could make out faces at windows – an old couple, a man near his age, two youths who could only be that man’s burly sons. One of those, pounding the glass and pointing at the barn. Tiberius couldn’t make out the words through the roaring in his ears.
None of them seemed relieved or, Maker forbid, thankful. Perhaps suspicion against mages was alive and well even still?
“If it is so important to you – fine.” There was a well nearby and he leaned heavily on the stacked stones that walled it in, leaving a dark and bloody handprint on the mossy rock. Water siphoned up in a rush, directed toward the burning building with a wave of his hand. The fire began to recede, unhappy embers and a great deal of smoke.
Then he heard it. The farmer’s son hadn’t been pleading for their livelihood – he’d been warning Tiberius about what was in the barn. An ogre loomed up out of the smoke and steam, burned red as boiled crab but still very much alive. It screamed and charged Tiberius, whose only initial, stupid thought was to redirect the funnel of well water at it.
If it hadn’t been for the mage-Templar war, Lyric probably wouldn’t have been at all prepared for what they were now facing. Growing up in the Circle she hadn’t exactly taken to offensive magic at all, but there were times during the war, well, difficult times led to difficult measures and decisions. She found herself grinning at his comment about not having mentioned ice magic, despite the fact that they were currently fighting darkspawn.
Well, can’t reveal everything all at once, girl’s gotta have her secrets. She said as she grinned and stuck out her tongue slightly, momentarily forgetting they were facing darkspawn. Ice was probably the only elemental she was good at, beyond the basic fireballs, the elementals had always been an area of magic she’d wanted to get better at but never seemed to get around to it.
She paused momentarily when Tiberius got hit, but he seemed to be handling it, so she continued her offensive, launching another barrage of ice shards at the darkspawn. The spell was tiring, but she was far from spent. She followed Tiberius to the home, she figured some inside might need healing magic.
If you’ve got that, I’ll see if they can use some help inside. Also not really hearing what people were saying inside, and not considering at the moment to use her mind magic to hear what they were thinking, because she was too distracted by everything that was going on. She was about to enter the home when a scream rang out that shook her to her core.
The barn had been concealing another threat, a hulking ogre, its skin seared red from the fire. Its roar sent a shiver down Lyric's spine, the sound echoing sharply in the quiet that followed the chaos. The creature charged, and Lyric's heart pounded in her chest as she readied herself for the next challenge.
In a split second, she called upon her magic once more, this time conjuring a barrier of shimmering energy around Tiberius as the ogre lunged towards him. Her mind raced, trying to figure out the best way to take down the massive beast without putting them in further danger. It was far too large for her ice to be of any good, but if it swung at Tiberius, she wanted him to be protected, this way he could focus on offensive magic, while she focused on what she did best, defensive magic.
He was going to die on a pointless farm in the Orleisan backcountry, for no reason other than this: he’d done something unselfish for once in his life. Tiberius would have laughed if he’d had the time. The ogre lurched forward, half run and half fall, crossing the yard far too quickly. The well water passed through Despair’s long loose-skinned hands and became ice, sharp and piercing. The main stem of it impaled the ogre’s shoulder and snapped off in the wound.
It wasn't enough to stop it. Of course it wasn’t. A hand bigger than his head came swiping down at Tiberius, blotting out the sun, a soap bubble radiance playing tricks on his eyes. The ogre failed to find purchase, dropping to one knee and tearing at the ice.
Barrier spell. Lyric had done that. It wouldn’t last forever, though.
Oh, look. She does care if you live or die. Somehow, it was more surprising than her running off into the woods to look for a hurt dog.
He wished there was something he could do to kill it quickly – without splashing all that tainted blood around. There was no time. Squeezing his eyes and mouth shut, Tiberius reached for the slanting light of sunset and shaped it into a cleaver. He brought it down to hack at the monster’s neck. Reformed the blade, repeated it all until the barrier-thumping and screaming stopped. The ogre’s blood was everywhere, even squelching in his socks. He staggered away, slipped and fell in the gravel drive. He lost all sense of everything for a moment, wiped clean by the pain.
The farmer’s sons heaved him up between them, half carrying him into the farmhouse. Tiberius complained feebly, of the danger and of the mess, shaking slightly after they let him alone. He was in a dim bedroom now, rag and straw ticking beneath him. He bent to remove his shoes, gave up, fished a sharp little knife out of his jacket. In a few quick motions he cut away his left pant leg and folded the bloody scraps neatly between his hands.
The ugly crossbow wound looked back at him, hardened scales of his own blood keeping the wound protected for now. There was pressure gathering beneath, damage to muscle and fascia that were beyond his magic. One of the farmers returned, bearing Tiberius’s staff and what water and rags they could spare.
“Could you ask my– my wife to come up? I need her.” He wasn’t sure why he lied, other than to maintain some slight idea of propriety. They wouldn’t be traveling any further tonight.
Lyric felt like everything was happening in slow motion around her, it all felt so surreal. It wasn’t like she hadn’t understood the dangers there would be until they got out of Orlais, but she also hadn’t anticipated running into people that needed help. When Tibs fell, her heart plummeted, not because she had feelings for Tiberius, but because she felt empathy in general and when people were injured, it always effected her deeply. Whether it was a dog or a person.
Before she could act, the farmer’s sons were rushing out to help them. Lyric followed them into the house and as the sons took him upstairs to a bedroom, she asked the wife if they had any herbs and went about gathering rags and a basin of water. Then the sons came back down and informed her that her husband would like her to come up. There was a brief second where her mind seemed a bit confused at being called wife, but dismissed it. They were engaged so she figured it was probably just something he said to the family.
She paused in her preparations to look at the sons, then simply nodded and continued gathering what she needed for healing. Once she had everything, she made her way up to the room with Tiberius, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger, but she hadn't anticipated it coming quite so soon.
She looked over the clothing and the now exposed wound. She placed the bowl of water down at Tiberius’s feet. Are you particularly attached to this outfit? Because if it were mine I’d be all about just burning it with fire. Before she started cleaning up some of the ogre blood that was around the wound, she checked her arms and hands and fingers, she wasn’t going to risk having something as dumb as a hangnail while cleaning up the wound, but she couldn’t properly heal the wound until she was sure there was no darkspawn blood around it.
This is going to sting a bit, but I promise I'll be as gentle as I can. With that, she began carefully cleaning the wound, her magic making the process more bearable, her expression focused and determined.
Once the cleaning was done, she activated her healing magic. A warm, soothing light emanated from her hands, enveloping the injury and accelerating the body's natural healing process. She worked carefully, ensuring that every damaged tissue was properly mended.
As she worked, she kept her gaze fixed on the wound, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't help but think about how this journey was already proving to be more challenging than she had anticipated. Despite the danger they had just faced, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. They had made a difference today, saved a life. She looked up at Tiberius, giving him a small, reassuring smile.
She lowered her voice so that if anyone was listening they wouldn’t be able to hear. Apparently the mother had wanted to flee their home days ago, but the father and one of the sons refused to leave their home, their livelihood. As she finished with the wound, she stood up and moved the nasty bloody rags and such over to the door to be discarded when she had a chance. It was deep, you need to go easy on it for a day or so.
Tiberius rasped a dry, tired laugh, watching Lyric’s pale white hands set to work on his filthy skin. It was quite against his inclination – but like so many other things today, he did not think he’d get his way if he fought her on it.
“Yes, I think burning them all would be for the best.” All the rest of his things were still packed, on the roof of the carriage. Perhaps one of the men of the house could be persuaded to give up a shirt? … Once she was done with the basin and rags, he dropped the spell keeping pressure on the wound. The scales fizzled away into smoke and the wound began to bleed sluggishly again.
If he couldn’t trust Lyric, well. In all likelihood he was about to die. Tiberius gripped the bolt by the end and forced it through his flesh, an involuntary whimper escaping through gritted teeth. It fell to the floor with a heavy thump. Hunched and sweating, he watched her go about the rest of her work, glazed and distant. His thoughts were sluggish in a way that would have usually alarmed him.
This situation didn’t make sense. He’d been fairly certain that they kind of hated each other yesterday and through at least part of this morning. Tiberius leaned toward her as she got up, afraid she was leaving.
No, she was only carrying a few things away. He struggled to peel out of his clothes, balling up coat and vest and the sad remains of his trousers. He should – sleep elsewhere, the floor maybe, and let her have the bed. He should thank her for saving him twice over.
“I wouldn’t chase you. If you want to leave tonight.” Why hadn’t she already? Maker, he was making a mess of this. Tiberius raised his head to look at her, trying to clock her reaction.
Lyric took a deep breath, looking at Tiberius with a mixture of uncertainty and newfound fondness. The weight of the arranged marriage and her family's expectations pressed heavily on her, but she couldn't ignore the connection that had begun to form between them.
Tiberius, she began softly, I appreciate your offer, truly. I know this arrangement has been difficult for both of us, and you've shown me more kindness and understanding than I expected. The wound wasn’t entirely healed, but her mana reserve was low, she was weak from having to fight the darkspawn, but it was healed enough to throw on some herbs and a bandage, something that Lyric was also skilled at.
She hesitated, gathering her thoughts. Running away might seem like an easy solution, but I can't ignore the responsibilities I have to my family. She hesitated again, he would probably think the family she was speaking of was her parents and brother, not her lover and daughter. Her hesitation was probably rather obvious, like there was something she wasn’t saying.
Offer. Tiberius wasn’t sure it had been one exactly, not until she named it that. It was at least as much a statement of fact. He did not think he was capable of giving chase just now. Even though Lyric had done much for him, by closing the worst of the hole through his leg.
It was strangely bittersweet, that she would refuse to run away. It could have put a clean end on this whole Orlesian mess – made a funny, self-deprecating story to tell. He’d let Lyric do what she wished and let his solicitors deal with clawing his money back from the other Nicolliers. Of course, it wouldn’t solve the immediacy of his heir problem. And it would certainly sting to have the last six years of his life written off as a waste of time.
Ah, well. Logically, she was probably nearly as tired as he was. Maybe the long walk back to the carriage sounded just as daunting to Lyric? She’d lost less blood but healing was, by reputation, a demanding art. Tiberius gingerly leaned back in the bed and swung his legs in. It felt untoward to start an argument in his shirtsleeves and breeches. He burrowed into the blankets, too tired to object to their humble surroundings. That brief, chivalric intention to let her have the bed to herself was fading fast.
“What responsibilities? They did not care for Mel and they do not care for you. We owe those vultures nothing.” When she did not jump to her parents’ defense, Tiberius was forced to reconsider.
“Shit. Let me guess: you’re already married to some poor fool in Starkhaven. We’re going back; I am going to cause an international incident after all.”
Lyric took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her secret pressing down on her. She needed to tell Tiberius the truth, but she had to be careful about how much she revealed. Sitting down beside him, she looked into his eyes, her expression serious yet tinged with a hint of warmth.
Tiberius, she began softly, there are some things I need to tell you, things that I've only shared with uh certain people. It's important you understand where I'm coming from. She paused, gathering her thoughts. I've had a number of lovers over the years, people I've cared about deeply. But I've never married. I never felt like I was really the marrying sort. It's nothing personal against you or anyone else. It's just who I am. No she was the poly unmarried sort, but that was a conversation for another day.
She took another deep breath, feeling the tension in the air. But there's more to it. My parents... they're blackmailing me into marrying you. They think this match will save them from ruin, and as such are willing to do anything to see it happen, including blackmailing me and threatening people I care about. So, no, I won't run away. Besides, I've become quite fond of you, Tiberius. More than I expected.
She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. I understand if you're upset or if this changes things between us. But I wanted you to know the truth. I didn't want to keep this from you any longer, and I’m right, that I can trust you. OK, so she wasn’t entirely trusting him with all the information, exactly who was in danger, but as she wasn’t a hundred percent certain she could trust him yet, she figured this was a good test, to see how he reacted to this part of the news, without revealing exactly who was in danger.
Lyric watched his face, searching for a reaction, hoping he would understand. I'm not married to anyone else, she added, trying to lighten the mood slightly. But you’re a good man Tiberius, and I’d understand if you didn’t want to deal with all this drama. He’d helped her save the dog after all, and agreed to take it in, could a person willing to save animals be so bad?
He snorted and scooched over, making room for her on the bed. The rope frame creaked as their weight resettled. Not the marrying sort had particular connotations in his tired mind. Was Lyric saying that she preferred women? And – Was that even much of a concern in the Marches, where she’d lived? He didn’t know. It was very much so in Tevinter. Tiberius turned his head to the side, watching her.
Yesterday’s anger seemed a distant, insubstantial thing. He’d said such beastly things to her – because he had not known any of this. His fingers curled loosely around her pale and blue veined wrist.
“I was upset when I thought you were complicit. Now I’m—” Tiberius trailed off, skimming his thumb across the satin smoothness of her pulsepoint. If he could only assay the future there … But alas, he was no soothsayer. “Disappointed, perhaps, that you think so little of me. I’m a fucking Magister, Lyric – my pride won’t allow me to be outmaneuvered by a couple broke Orleisan nobles on the very edge of dotage.”
To be perfectly honest, he would have liked to go back and murder them tomorrow. But perhaps they had contingencies in place. Lyric was being irritatingly evasive about who, exactly, she was trying to protect. Not the brother, surely? The Nicolliers had no other children left, to sell or to slaughter – and southern nobles were so precious about first born sons et al..
“But – to minimize risk – I think it would take time to accomplish anything that would free you.” Assuming she would allow him to do anything at all. Kinslaying, even by proxy, was a nasty proposition. Tiberius rolled onto his side, to watch her better. It was somehow stranger and more intimate that way, facing someone in the dark rather than addressing all his thoughts to the rafters.
“I won’t take you back, then. And if you won’t go elsewhere … Do you really mean to go through with this? Marry me?” Suddenly he reached for her left hand, wanting to touch that ugly old family ring.
“I am not that good of a man, I’m afraid. You can have my time, my resources, and my magic for as long as you need. But in return, I must have an heir.
“Otherwise, we part ways in Nevarra and hope a head start is enough.”
Lyric settled beside Tiberius on the creaking bed, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his words. She looked into his eyes, trying to read his emotions – she imagined it was probably confusion, anger, and perhaps a touch of vulnerability, or maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. She took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to respond.
I understand your frustration, Tiberius. And I'm sorry for not being more open from the beginning. But it's not about thinking little of you. It's about the reality of my situation, the precariousness of it all. My parents... they have a way of getting what they want, and they've made it clear that if I don't comply, people I care about will suffer. I didn't want to drag you into this mess, but here we are.
She sighed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. And I feel I should clarify, I didn’t think I was the marrying sort because I've never felt it was right for me. It’s not about who I prefer or being tied down; it's about the freedom to make my own choices. But I can't afford that freedom right now.
Lyric's voice softened as she continued, I never wanted to deceive you or make you feel outmaneuvered. I didn’t know you, and until I got to know you better, I had no way to know for sure if you were just as bad as my parents. I just didn't see any other way to protect those I care about. And you're right, this situation isn't something that can be resolved quickly or easily.
She reached for his hand, but stopped just short of his fingers. Marrying you... it's not what I envisioned for my life, but if it means keeping people safe, then yes, I will go through with it. Besides, I find myself becoming rather fond of you, perhaps even hopeful that we can be friends.
Lyric's eyes met his, filled with sincerity. I know you need an heir, and I'm willing to try and give you that. In return, I ask for your patience and understanding. Let's take this one step at a time. We can figure out a way to deal with my parents and find a path that works for both of us. Ever the optimist, the further away from her parents she got, the more she became like her true self.
“Oh, you may keep your ‘sorry’ for now. It’s been less than two days. So you didn’t tell me everything about you all at once – my feelings are not hurt.” She was still wearing that heirloom ring, a little bit loose on her finger. Well, there was bound to be an earth mage in the family that could adjust the fit.
“Give it a few months and I suppose I could become quite cross, if you like. Even for lies of omission.” His brows lifted in mild surprise as she went on, accepting his terms without a flinch. There were some qualifiers, of course, but … Whoever these people she kept mentioning were, they were clearly very dear. Or else Lyric’s tolerance for putting herself in danger for others was unusually high. Both seemed likely at this juncture.
“You are so strange.” Tiberius chuckled. Most ladies he knew would have taken great offense at the subject of children being broached so early in a courtship – even if such an agenda was never far from anyone’s mind in bloodline-obsessed Tevinter. Well, fine. This was all out of order to begin with.
“Very well. We have an agreement, Miss Nicollier.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. He was too exhausted for any grander gestures. Unexpectedly, he found he liked it there.
