Chapter Text
They didn’t know her name. Matter of fact, they didn’t know anything about her at all, except that she was an elf with Dalish clan markings who stumbled out of a fade rift, and who looked far too young to be there alone. The soldiers, not knowing what to do once they found her at the crater that was the Temple of Sacred Ashes, had chained her up and taken her unconscious body to Haven. It took twenty-four hours for her to wake.
“Where is she?!”
She heard the furious screaming before she saw anything. Chained to the wall with no way to escape, all she could do was curl into a ball and shove herself into the corner, trembling as the rage came closer to her cell.
“Cassa—” A second voice tried to intervene, but the first voice continued without halting.
“The Divine is dead, she’s the only one who could have done this!”
She didn’t remember anything. One moment she was in the Temple quietly listening to the deteriorating negotiations from behind a set of stairs. The next she was waking up in a dark prison cell, wrists bound and her hand aflame with pain, split down the center with a crackling green marking which flared up about once a minute. It hurt more than anything she’d ever felt, and she’d felt her fair share of pain before.
“Cassandra…” The cell door slammed open, and the elf got her first glimpse of her captors— two women stood in the doorway. One was in full armor, short black hair and strong features, who stared at her in open shock and confusion. The other was a hooded woman in purple, with red hair lighter than her own and the air of grief swirling all around her. “She’s just a child.” The hooded woman muttered quietly, completely lost, and she could only tremble silently in her corner.
The first woman, Cassandra, stared wide-eyed at the elf for a short time. Then with a huff she stepped into the cell, but did not approach her. She went to the opposite corner and watched as the hooded woman came to kneel in front of her, giving her plenty of space. She stared at this woman, who was very obviously studying her while also appearing very sympathetic. She seemed nicer, at least, than Cassandra did.
“Andaran atish’an.” The hooded woman pressed her hand to her chest and bowed her head, her posture open and as non-threatening as possible. She did not miss the daggers which clung to her hips. “I am Leliana. This is my associate, Cassandra.” Leliana indicated Cassandra lightly, who watched with folded arms and a mixture of emotions she couldn’t place through her terror. “Can you tell me your name?”
She watched Leliana for a short time silently, the green tear flaring up again and making her flinch. Leliana noticed, her brows pinching together, but she said nothing. She waited patiently. The elf did not move.
“Where am I?” She finally asked, voice dry and cracked, horribly raspy. Leliana noticed immediately, and very slowly moved her hand behind her back. She watched intently as Leliana pulled a waterskin out of a small pack under her cloak, extending her arm out to pass it over. After a moment the elf uncurled just enough to snatch the waterskin, drinking greedily while given the chance. Leliana didn’t comment on her haste.
“You’re in Haven.” She replied kindly, “This is a safe place. Do you remember what happened?”
She lowered the waterskin, still clutching it close to her chest. She weighed her options silently, coming to the decision due to Leliana’s open expression of pure patience and concern. “I was in a temple.” She began her story quietly, less pained than before. Her voice was heavily accented and her words slow— clearly Common speak was not her first language. “The… Conclave?” Leliana nodded silently, “There was lots of arguing. It sounded stupid, they talked in circles and were mad at each other. I was hiding under the stairs. A lady in a red hood saw me, but she didn’t tell on me. She let me stay.”
“Near the meeting room?” Leliana asked, and the elf nodded. “What happened next?” Behind her another soldier entered the room, whispering quietly to Cassandra.
“There was a problem. Some fighting started, and I got scared so I ran to find my mum.”
“You came here with your mother?”
“Yes. She told me to stay at the stairs while she went to go figure out why the Mages and Templars were fighting each other. We didn’t know why. Then the yelling started in the Temple. I ran through crowds, lots of people all starting to run away. Then it went dark, and I woke up in a new place.” Her brows furrowed, “I wasn’t in the temple anymore. It was very dark, and I was still running. Things were chasing me with lots of legs. I was crying. Then… a woman.”
“A woman?” Leliana straightened, surprised.
“She reached out to me. I took her hand, and then I was here.” The elf’s trembling died down, as Leliana hadn’t made any moves other than to hand her water. An act of kindness. “My hand hurts.”
“Yes, I’m sure it does.” Leliana nodded sadly, “We don’t fully understand what’s happened, but it appears you are at the center of something very dangerous, and I do not think it was your fault.” Leliana’s head tilted slightly, “How old are you?”
She hesitated. Then she whispered, “Fifteen.”
Leliana, apart from her eyes widening, didn’t react. Casandra, however, did; her jaw dropped. “Why did you come here?” Leliana asked her.
“It was mum’s idea.”
Leliana took a slow breath, in and out, purposefully. “I see.”
“Leliana,” Cassandra stepped forward, “We need to show her.” Cassandra handed Leliana a set of keys.
“I know you’re scared.” Leliana said, “I will unlock your shackles, but you must promise me that you wont run from us. This is a very dangerous situation, there’s a lot of people who are upset and if you leave we cant protect you. You’ll understand when we get outside.”
“But I didn’t do anything.” She insisted desperately, tears springing to the corners of her eyes.
“I know.” Leliana hushed her gently, “But others don’t know that yet. Please?”
She thought about it for a minute, knowing she had few options. At best, if she was unlocked and the situation was dire, she could make a run for it. She couldn’t do that if she remained locked in here. But she also needed to know what was going on, and why there was a strange painful mark on her hand that hadn’t been there before, one which thrummed with magic that could only come from the Fade. She knew she had to be sure.
“I want my swords back.” Leliana and Cassandra stared at her in surprise. She uncurled from the corner and sat up straighter, trying to appear confident.
“Your swords?”
“Yes. Long hilts, identical, with Dalish carvings on the blades.” She held out her hands as best she could to show the size, “You must have them. If I’m going to go somewhere dangerous I want my swords.”
“You know how to duel-wield swords?” Cassandra asked, highly skeptical. The elf stuck out her chin, staring at her in turn.
“I am a Dalish elf living in a world that loves to hunt and kill Dalish elves.” She replied icily, “Of course I know how to use my own swords. I made them.”
Cassandra shook her head, “We can’t—”
“Deal.” Leliana interrupted her firmly, moving forward to unlock her shackles.
“Leliana, we can’t just—”
“She is not responsible for this.” Leliana laid down the law with a firm voice, helping her stand with a gentle hand on her arm. “If she’s going to go into this mess she needs to be able to defend herself. Let us see what she’s capable of.” And Cassandra could say nothing to such level of certainty, so she instead stormed out of the cell to gather the weapons they’d found on the elf when she was first found— two dalish blades and two hunting daggers, obviously used and well cared for.
When she returned Leliana was pointing to the sky, showing the elf the Breach which had torn apart the very heavens. The elf stared at it, her emerald eyes wide as she watched objects fall from its center.
Then her brows furrowed, her jaw set, and Cassandra saw nothing but determination in her eyes.
This, she thought, would be far from boring.
—
When Solas first saw the unconscious elven child laying on the floor of a jail cell, her hand crackling with magical energy of the fade, he nearly burst into tears.
“Not you, da’len.” He thought to himself, “So young, she’s just a baby. What have I done?”
Solas sat with her for hours. She writhed in pain even in her slumber, the mark on her hand burning the flesh to either side of the tear and sending electrical pulses through her arm. He did his best to help, tried every healing spell he could think of, but nothing seemed to work. She would die, eventually, and there was nothing he could do about it. When he was alone, when the guards wandered off to get him supplies, he wept silently at her side. “Not you, not you, not you…”
There was nothing he could do. So after a full day of trying he left for the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Breach still loomed. “Once more,” he told himself as he marched up the path, “I will try to close it one more time. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I must fix what has been broken.”
Then, not an hour later, that little dalish girl came running over the hill, jumping on the back of the demon he was fighting and stabbing it through the head, unfazed as it turned to fade dust. Solas stared and he knew he’d been blessed with a second chance.
“Let us try again. Perhaps we can turn the tide.”
—
The first time Varric saw an elven child running into a battlefield to fight demons with a glowing tear in her hand and murder in her eyes, his thoughts could most accurately be described as “Oh shit.”
Varric barely understood what was happening, all he knew was that one moment he was on his way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to spin his story about Hawke and the mage rebellion to The Divine, the next he’s watching the damn temple explode into dust, the entire mountain top melting away as a giant green hole in the sky above rained demons and Maker knows what else from it. So he did the only thing he could, fought the demons which were coming from tears in the air around them, watching as a bald elf showed up out of the blue and tried to close them without success, and watched many soldiers dying to the demons that would not stop coming. A full day of nothing but fighting, and they were getting nowhere.
It was then that she appeared, running into the battlefield and cutting down a demon with one well-aimed blow to its chest area before spinning on her heel and jumping onto the back of a demon advancing on the apostate— Varric had learned his name was Solas— quickly dispatching the demon without hesitation. Cassandra ran in moments later, frazzled and definitely out of her comfort zone, which said a lot considering her comfort zone usually laid squarely on the battlefield.
“Quickly!” Solas shouted, grabbing the kid’s arm before she could move, “Before more come through!” He held her hand up to the tear in the air, the left hand with a magical tear on the palm glowing the same green color as the rift before her. A beam of energy shot from her hand to the rift, and just like that it closed. Not a trace remained, and the demons were gone.
The girl recoiled hard, stepping away from Solas and glaring at him suspiciously. “What did you do?” She asked him, Varric noting the heavy accent. She looked very young, startlingly so, short and lithe— she was so thin she erred on the side of being starved, which would have concerned Varric had he not noticed the muscles on her arms. Naturally thin then, like most elves. She had a shock of deep red hair which tumbled down her back in waves, unkempt from fighting, and she held two swords to her sides. She wasn’t actively defending against any of them, but she was coiled like a snake and ready to strike at a moments notice. The wild look in her eye was one Varric had come to know well, the look of a rat trapped in the corner ready to bite the cat who hunted it.
“I did nothing,” Solas replied calmly, staying a respectful distance away, “the credit is yours.”
The girl was quiet, looking from her hand to the space where the rift had been. Cassandra came forward, but when the girl took a step away from her she stopped short, instead turning her attention to Solas, “So the rifts can be closed?”
“Indeed.” Solas smiled at the girl who continued to glare at him, “It seems you bare the key to our salvation.”
Varric watched the child carefully for a moment more. She looked like she was about to bolt, the rat waiting for its chance to flee from the cat. But she was standing her ground, though she was weary of both Solas and Cassandra she wasn’t moving, and that was telling. “Good to know!” He spoke up, ensuring the girl saw he was there. He adjusted his glove, facing her in such a way so that she could see Bianca on his back before facing her completely. Indeed, her eyes locked onto Bianca and studied it for a moment, and though she didn’t seem to know what Bianca was she figured out that it was a weapon, the only weapon he had on him which was securely stowed on his back. He then walked forward, a smile on his face and both hands fully visible to the girl. “Here I was thinking we’d be ass-end in demons forever.”
“Varric.” Cassandra sighed heavily, “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like? I’m fighting these demons, same as you. Someone needs to get you two to the top of that mountain.”
“No.” She glared at him, which Varric was very used to by now, “I appreciate your willingness Varric, but you were only brought here to speak with The Divine. Clearly that is no longer an option.”
Varric laughed, “Please Seeker, have you seen the mountain lately? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” He flashed his winning grin her way, making Cassandra groan and move away from him to pace in frustration.
The girl hadn’t stopped staring at him. Slowly she sheathed her swords, head tilted and glare fading into curiosity. “I’ve never met a Dwarf before.” She said quietly. Varric smiled and bowed to her in response, throwing his arms out to either side of his body.
“Varric Tethras, at your service. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally an unwelcome tag-along.” His theatrics earned him a giggle from the girl, who seemed even younger now that she didn’t appear like she was considering killing everyone in the vicinity. For a moment he was even able to study the markings on her face— the vallaslin, as Merril had once explained to him— which he had to admit were beautifully complex, as red as the hair on her head.
“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Solas had caught on to Varric’s attempts of being non-threatening and had adopted a similar open stance towards the girl. “I am pleased to see you still live.”
“He means ‘I kept your hand from tearing you apart while you slept’.” Varric supplied when she shot him a confused glance.
“Oh.” She muttered, “And you said I can close these holes in the air?”
“The rifts, yes. They are tears in our world which lead into the Fade. I believe the mark on your hand is a literal key to closing rifts— and potentially opening them, if it is ever wise to try.”
“Which we do not suggest at this time.” Cassandra cut in sternly.
“Of course not.” Solas nodded, “How you got this anchor is the question. Do you remember what happened? Anything at all?”
“No.” She replied, “The Seeker said I walked out of the fade. I don’t remember.” She looked at Cassandra and glared again, that stoic determination returning to her eyes, “If I close that big rift, I can leave?”
“If that is what you wish.” Cassandra conceded, though she was clearly unhappy about it. The girl nodded and began to walk without a word, taking the path towards the top of the mountain. Solas followed quickly, but Varric pulled Cassandra back before she could join them.
“Seeker, that’s a kid.” Varric hissed, smile dropping from his face, “How old is she? What the hell is she doing here?”
“She is fifteen.” Cassandra replied, more distraught than Varric had ever seen, “She is our only hope at stopping these demons. I have watched her as we climbed the mountain, she is more capable in a fight than I had anticipated. Right now our only choice is to protect her until the Breach is closed and we know if she is responsible for the Divine’s death.”
“You think a kid killed the Divine?” Varric scoffed.
“Anything is possible, Varric. She bares that mark, you saw it. We must be cautious.” With that Cassandra moved to catch up with the elves, leaving Varric no real choice but to follow.
Shit.