Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Helene Dakesh]

They flinch away from his eye contact, rocking a little faster -- but they whimper to him. "Varric. Varric," they manage, before rotating through languages again: "[The friend of this creature. The love loved this creature. The pups. Father of the puppies. Are the hounds safe?]"

[Varric]

"The pups are at school," he says softly, letting them avert their gaze but not letting go of their hand. "You'll see them tonight. We'll have dinner together, all of us. How does that sound?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"[Yes]," they whimper. "Yes."

[Varric]

"Thatta soul, thatta soul," Varric murmurs. "Alright. Ready to head home?"

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene nods.

They need help walking; they seem to struggle with balance, their limbs jerking oddly as they try to walk. But with Varric to lean on, they manage to walk far enough for him to hire a coach to take them to his home. Not once do they let go of his hand the entire trip back.


As it turns out, Helene did one thing "right" about all this: they ciphered their notes on the second ritual, to stop anyone else from trying it. After all, if nothing goes wrong, they could simply decipher the notes later, right? But of course, that makes it harder for Varric to pick apart what happened. He's not used to ciphers made by people who are as smart as he is.

And Helene isn't much help. Over the next few days, he manages to take good stock of the damage: they suffer from hallucinations, and at times only stare at him uncomprehendingly when he speaks, no matter the language. At times, they cannot seem to speak at all; at other times, they can manage slow, halting speech that, aside from being in a mix of languages, is more or less intelligible, with grammar that is simple but coherent. There doesn't seem to be a pattern of their functioning, aside from fear or surprises making things worse. A lot worse.

They either don't remember the cipher, or don't wish to share. They don't write anything, but they draw nearly constantly, sometimes abstractly, sometimes vivid representations of the world around them. Sometimes they speak what seems to be nonsense; sometimes they seem lucid, responding to things he can't perceive, but sometimes they speak words that just don't make sense put together, describing the wrong senses with the wrong adjective, like sharp colors or cold sounds. Sometimes they speak of dreams they've had, mostly in the abstract, often in a kind of ecstatic revelatory tone. Whatever's going on in there, it bears only a tentative connection to reality, but it's not always unpleasant.

They also consistently use words that translate to lower animals rather than people for themself. "This creature," they say when referring to themself, no matter the language -- unless the word for creature and person is the same.

[Varric]

Beth and Sunshine are gems during all this. Carver too, as fumbling and uncertain as he can be about complicated things, he's always willing to do extra work if it'll help out. And, as much as Varric hates to think of it, given Helene's newest verbal quirk, the lad's knack at being soothing and nonthreatening with animals seems to translate surprisingly well with Helene. Despite how powerful and large he is, Helene doesn't seem to be bothered by him anymore than the girls. When he's not feeling so bitter or worried, Varric likes to think it's more than Helene remembers that Carver is a protector at his core, not a fighter or a hunter. 

The guest room is converted into a book cave, the scent and feel of them seeming to sooth the Seeker. Merrill in particular is willing to spend countless hours just sitting quietly in the room with Helene, working on her costumes as the Seeker draws, stares or rocks. She never says it out loud, but even Carver can see how she sees what could have happened to her in Helene's condition. It says a lot about the shaman's character that seeing that causes her to care about and for the oracle, rather than fear or pity her. Bethany is the most openly heartbroken of the family- closer to them than Merrill but much more open about her feelings than the two men in the family. After two days of this, word reaches Zevran, who begins to make a point of visiting each day a lunch from them on with a new bauble or trinket for Helene to sketch. 

But in the morning, it's just Varric at home with them. Which means there's no-one else around when Helene starts muttering about 'this creature not liking the swirling sunlight oozing into the room.' Fighting the urge to snap at them for bad-mouthing someone he cares about with swiftly growing ease, Varric moves to kneel next to Helene. Careful to not look directly at them, he says gently, "Helene, precision. 'This one.' The phrase you should use is 'this one.' Repeat that please. For me?" 

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene rocks, not looking at him, for a moment not seeming to hear. Then, in crystal clear Sylvan, she recites a bit of scripture: "All creatures, great and small, are worthy of respect. For Uryll loves the meekest mouse and the fiercest raptor, the tiniest insect and the largest whale."

[Varric]

"Clever soul," Varric says dryly. "Not letting this go Helene. Uryll might love 'em all, but that doesn't make them equal. And you're not a creature. You're a person."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Creature," they insist in Undercommon. "Not..." They seem to struggle for the next word, their lips starting to form words a few times but faltering, letting them go. Finally, they pull the right word from their recollection, in Sphynx of all things: "Intellect/Intelligence/education". 

[Varric]

"...says the person that just quoted some scription I've never read in a language less than a quarter of Nyra speaks. And then expanded on it in a language less than a hundredth can speak," Varric says, voice dry as dust. "You're... hurt. Badly. But that doesn't make you a creature."

[Helene Dakesh]

"[Thinking, cannot]," they murmur, the syntax and negation Kitsune while the former concept is Draconic. "[Dull. Hurts. Mind isn't, cannot, damaged. Not Helene.]"

[Varric]

"Hurt Helene. Damaged Helene. Still Helene," Varric insists gently. "I'm about halfway through decrypting your ritual notes. Only a matter of time. We'll fix this, Helene."

[Helene Dakesh]

They swallow, then, making an effort to look at him, to almost meet his eyes. "No," they force out, in undercommon. "[Cannot. Alydra.]"

[Varric]

If They want this of you then They're not worthy of being your god. Varric takes a deep breath. "I need more than that, Helene. I've read your notes but... You did the ritual medley, you kept the course. It's not your resolve faltering, it's me... fixing things."

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene bows their head, trembling. "[After. When the pups are safe. Then, please, this creature, yes.]" They twist their fingers together, breathing picking up tempo as they switch to Elven for more scripture: "And the dead shall rise, and consume the living. All things will perish. This is the way of things."