Moonpetals of Love
The cavern floor, which had been a navigable sprawl of smooth, black stone, suddenly dissolved into a sheer, vertical climb. The walls here were not the familiar, water-carved granite of the lower tunnels, but a chaotic, crumbling mélange of shale and basalt that seemed to defy the simple physics of the earth above. The path that had brought them this far had effectively ended.
Varric paused, his gaze tilted upward toward a fissure in the dome-like ceiling of the vast hollow. A shimmering, diffused light, entirely unlike the focused glow of the moss they'd seen below, beckoned from above. It was subtle, almost ethereal, suggesting not a focused light source but an immense, softly glowing field.
"The Sunken Plateau," Varric's voice was low, echoing slightly off the damp rock. "This is the third place that I want you to see."
Ardyn craned her neck. The sheer face looked treacherous, even without her having to climb it. She could see handholds, yes, but they seemed brittle, ready to flake away at a touch. "That's quite the welcoming mat," she commented, a little breathlessly. "I take it that you don't have many visitors."
Varric offered no reply, his attention focused entirely on the crumbling wall. He was considering the path, but not for himself. His frame was built for this—a creature of thick scale and shadow who could find purchase where others would slide—but Ardyn was not. He could hoist her, yes, but the thought of that slow, labored ascent felt crude and inefficient, risking a shared, exhausting vulnerability she wasn't ready for, and one he certainly wasn't.
He watched a small shower of loose, grit-like rock detach from the edge of the path above and whisper down the face.
"Hold still," he commanded, his voice suddenly sharp, carrying the metallic edge of power.
Ardyn obeyed instantly, recognizing the shift from conversational companion to powerful entity. She watched as Varric extended his hand, palm flat against the jagged rock face several feet in front of them. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing to an almost imperceptible pace.
There was no incantation, no thunderous surge of light. Instead, the air around him grew intensely still, heavy with a silent, concentrated pressure. Ardyn felt the very rock beneath her boots begin to vibrate, the frequency too high to be felt as movement, yet deep enough to feel in her bones.
Then, the change began.
Where Varric's hand rested, the raw, jagged stone began to smooth itself out, as if a colossal, invisible hand were polishing the mountainside. But it didn't stop at polishing. The rock flowed, changing color from dark gray to a deep, shimmering obsidian, then crystallizing. A series of steps, broad and perfectly spaced for a human stride, emerged from the sheer face. Each step was pristine, translucent violet and dark silver, catching the faint distant light and refracting it like polished glass. The process was silent, instantaneous, and breathtakingly precise. Varric had carved an ornate staircase out of solid earth.
He opened his eyes, the silver sparks behind his irises flaring briefly before receding. He lifted his hand from the completed staircase.
"Petra Gradus," he said, the name of the technique sounding less like a magical command and more like a simple statement of fact.
Ardyn stared, her jaw slightly slack. The stairs weren't just functional; they were an act of spontaneous, effortless architecture—a palace feature carved with the intent of a master sculptor. Her awe was profound. It wasn't just the power that impressed her; it was the control. Varric hadn't blasted the rock; he had commanded it to become something beautiful, stable, and temporary.
Ardyn said nothing, as she took the first step onto the shimmering crystal. The surface felt cool and impossibly smooth under her boots.
Varric turned, quietly ascending beside her, carefully wondering if she now thought him a show off.
Instead of accusation, she walked up the stairs beside him in awe and wonder, her small intakes of breath music to his ears and gifts to his soul.
He was feeling sensations he never thought possible for an ancient beast like him.
The staircase dissolved back into raw rock seconds after they stepped off the final riser. They stood upon the Sunken Plateau.
Ardyn gasped. The space was immense, a flat expanse carved out of the highest reaches of the earth. Above, the cavern ceiling was hidden by a web of interwoven veins of glowing mineral ore and thick, pale blue bioluminescent moss. The light was constant, soft, and diffuse, casting the Plateau in a twilight glow that mirrored a night sky dusted with nebulae. It felt as if they had climbed out of the earth and into a secret, internal firmament.
The ground here was nothing like the granite below. It was soft underfoot, covered in a fine, dark, shimmering volcanic ash that looked like powdered starlight. Interspersed across the dark surface were glittering, jagged formations of raw crystal that pulsed with faint inner energy.
"This is beautiful, Lord Varric," Ardyn whispered, reverence in her voice. "It's like walking on a captured galaxy."
Varric watched her. His usual reaction to arriving here was one of proprietary satisfaction, a quiet confirmation of his control. Now, however, he was keenly focused only on the light in her eyes. He had known the Plateau was beautiful—it was why he chose it as one of the places for her to experience—but seeing it through her unreserved wonder elevated the experience.
Ardyn took a step, the soft ash shifting under her boot, and then stopped abruptly, crouching low. "Look," she murmured, pointing.
At the base of a sharp, clear crystalline spire, nestled in the dark ash, was a cluster of unique stones. They were not jagged, but smooth, teardrop-shaped crystals of a deep, velvety moonlit grey, with a core that held a tiny, internal glow, almost like trapped moonlight.
"Moonpetal Gems," Varric stated, a flicker of surprise in his voice. They were rare, even here, and usually only found in the deepest, most thermally stable areas.
Ardyn didn't touch them, her fingers hovering, mesmerized by the deep color. "They're perfect. Like frozen drops of starlight."
Varric watched her pure fascination. Most others who had seen objects of power in his lair—the few dignitaries or petitioners he tolerated—saw only value, potential energy, or bargaining chips. Ardyn saw only magic and beauty. Her delight was honest, unreserved, and entirely disconnected from worth.
Without conscious thought, Varric extended his hand over the cluster. He didn't touch them, but focused his will. Using a technique more akin to a gentle breeze than the crushing force of his Earth Manipulation, he subtly shifted the ash around the largest cluster. Then, with a delicate, silver-tinged telekinesis, he lifted the crystalline flower whole, shaking the ash from its base and presenting it to her.
The movement was slow, deliberate, and entirely out of character for the usually efficient and detached entity. This was not a tool or a show of force; it was his first intentional gift.
Ardyn's eyes widened, moving from the gem to his face. As she reached out to take the cluster, their fingers brushed. The contact was brief—a fleeting warmth against his cool, scaly skin—but it sent a faint, distracting pulse of energy through his nervous system.
She cradled the Moonpetal Gems in her palm, turning them over slowly, their silver glow warming her skin. "They feel like they're breathing," she said, her gaze fixed on the inner light. "Are they special?"
She looked to him, wonder glowing in her eyes, curiosity trembling on her lips, and he found himself stunned into momentary silence. He blinked several times and then spoke.
"It is a mineral unique to this volcanic area. It absorbs and holds the ambient glow of the moss and the deep earth's energy. They… they only bloom in this specific microclimate." He watched the effect her genuine joy had on him, a feeling akin to sudden, intense vertigo.
I care about her seeing the world through my eyes. I want her to see this beauty, this depth, this power that I command, and be delighted by it. And that… that terrifies me. The thought was sharp, slicing through his carefully constructed emotional barriers. He was seeking her approval, her shared wonder, and that was a weakness he had never permitted himself.
He used his hand to gesture towards the Plateau's far side, where the bioluminescence seemed to pool most brightly. As he moved, the light caught the silver moats along his scales. For a moment, it was mesmerizing to Ardyn.
He carved a new path instantly—a stable, clean ramp that led off the Plateau—but this time, he used only dull, brown earth manipulation, functional and unadorned. The grand, shimmering crystal staircase was a gesture that belonged to a moment that could not be repeated.
Ardyn was still awed. His ability to use such great power left trickles of heat pricking along her skin. She followed him, her boots crunching softly on the ash. She looked down at her hand, where the Moonpetal Gems rested, their deep silver color both a promise and a remembrance of a moment in time that would be forever important to her. She closed her hand around them, feeling the subtle inner heat of the stones and the phantom heat of Varric's skin where their fingers had brushed.
The connection was no longer a curious spark. It was a terrifying, shared secret, held within the crystalline cage of a whispered word and an instant of pure, visceral protection. The journey had changed them, irrevocably.
Now, all that was left, was to either accept happiness unexpected or deny and run away.