There was no measure of time in the Fade, so when the elf came to Audacity, the spirit hadn't bothered to measure how much time had passed in the mortal realm. Bound inside the cave as he was, there was no change in weather to discern through wind or rain, no snow or lengthening days to notice. To the spirit, the wars that fed him had just ended and he'd been content in a way. He had to be, because there was no going home, no feeding, nothing but the wait, infinite and momentary. Through the nature of his very being there was always more, the gnawing, driving need to consume, but once bound that thought was secondary.
He had taken so many, human and elf alike. Too many - he'd attracted attention. They'd come to banish him eventually, the bravest and most powerful of the mages offering him a last meal after a long period of gluttony. Audacity was trapped in a statue, of all things, by a group of cunning little devils. It meant that someone had to find the mass of stone to find him within it, but once they did, he could return to the and gather strength anew.
Stone moves, but so slowly that a century doesn't make a change that mortal eyes can see. Audacity waited, because time meant nothing to a creature from the Fade, trapped in darkness. He wasn't completely alone the whole time, but only a few stumbled upon him and fewer still tried their hand at his power. All were eventually consumed, some without preamble. None could break the binding, and thus weren't appropriate vessels for him.
On her side of the plane of existence, time had crawled and leaped, as it tended to do. So much time passed that those who'd trapped him in stone were buried and forgotten, and in time, so was the conflict that had raged - the reason he was summoned. It became historical myth, speculation, when once it had been as real as the sunlight glistening on rivers of blood flowing down Sundermount. Generations of lives were lived and lost before Audacity deigned to speak with another seeking aid. He was there, but not just for any little wisp of power.
When she came for him, she was searching for answers about a past that was still recent to his mind. After the scant few that came his way, to be awakened by one so perfect, mighty yet wanting; he knew that she would be all he needed. This was no weakling seeking power, but a woman so deeply connected to the Fade that her very footsteps caused ripples and echoes in the fabric of his reality. Before she even offered her blood, he could feel her. Had he flesh, it might have trembled in anticipation.
She craved knowledge, her hidden desire the power that came from uncovering a history to give her people. Audacity knew the truth but preferred lies, and pulled her wishes from her with little prodding. He had to keep her coming back, a game he'd played with her like for centuries. There was truth threaded through his lies, slivers of it shining through as he tripped her up, dropping tantalizing bits of information into shrouded answers meant to confuse and obscure. When she balked and nearly walked away from their unsealed deal, he showed her the way through her blood and tasted the vastness of her magic in a single drop.
A willing soul was always best, and one drop of her was sweeter than all of the souls of the last war.
Audacity was a spirit - demon to some, but the name didn't matter. Spirits held none of the mortal shame of wanting, and no impatience to hinder plans or upset waiting. She would come back, and when she was weak and desperate, the demon would claim her and walk with her face, see Thedas through her mortal eyes as he feasted.