Chapter Text
Why is it so fucking cold?
Riding through the white little village of Haven, the Elven Mage, Neria Surana, pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter around her small, hunched over body. Her jaw shivered as she gripped the reins once again, holding on with a stone-like hand as her horse began his uphill trek.
Snowflakes littered around her, covering the brown and crusty ground with a thick sheet of snow, and Neria's nose wrinkled in disgust. Ever since she was a young girl, she always disliked snow.
Neria and her two companions, Ser Willum and Ser Jory, had been riding effortlessly across Fereldan for two weeks. They occasionally stopped at an Inn or Tavern for the night to eat their fill and groom their mounts, only to head straight back on the road at first dawn.
Everything was going fine.
Until they passed Redcliffe Village.
The more south they rode, the more cold it had become, leaving Neria a shivering, cursing mess. The sudden climate change had slowed them down, turning their one week journey into a two week journey.
'What I wouldn't give to be curled up in my bed right now,' the young Mage thought with longing. 'My head on a fluffy pillow, a roaring fire keeping the room warm, and an exhausted whore sleeping in my bed.'
However, instead of a toasty room and welcome company, Neria was fighting her way through a shit-storm, her teeth chattering as the harsh wind blew against her, sent by her King on a foolish journey to represent him in the newly founded Inquisition.
No matter what life Alistair had given her throughout the years, Neria really – really - hated him sometimes.
"Ah! Lady Surana!" called a voice through the falling white specs.
Neria squinted her eyes through the storm, knowing that it wouldn't improve her vision. She felt someone take the horse by his head-gear, and allowed herself to be guided out of the horrible weather.
"My thanks!" she called, her hands coming to her hood. She tucked the material around her face and bent over until she felt the hairs of wet, horse mane tickle at her cheek. She followed the steady rhythm of the horse's movement, letting herself sway steadily in her saddle.
A few moments later, she heard heavy doors open and was relieved to realise that she no longer felt the onslaught of snowflakes battering against her cloak. Neria leaned up on her horse, and was greeted by the dim light of many candles.
Neria ran her hands through her short, brown hair, pushing the hood off as she looked around.
She was in a narrow hall, the stone on the ground covered in red carpets. Candles scattered across the ground, and many alcoves in the walls around her. There were three people occupying the hallway, each looking over to her as she slid down from her saddle, landing on the cold ground with a 'thud'.
There was a pleasant warmth throughout the room, and Neria appreciated it greatly. Peeling off her gloves, the mage shrugged the wet heavy cloak on her shoulders uncomfortably.
"Neria Surana," a voice called. She turned towards the end of the hall, a tall, lean woman striding forward. She had jet black hair, and wore a sword strapped to her hip. A deep, wide scar spreak down her right cheek, stopping at her chin.
Neria smiled to her in greeting, and clasped her hand in the woman's. "Seeker Pentaghast," she spoke. "I apologise for our delay."
"We were expecting you nearly a week ago," the Seeker replied, looking past her to the guards. "Our Commander was going to send a search party out for you on the morrow."
"I'm sorry to disappoint," Neria joked, releasing the clasp that kept her cloak secure. She felt the wet weight leave her shoulders and groaned, feeling a kink in her right side. Reaching up, she dug at the annoyance with her left hand. "We weren't expecting the storm."
"You should have, especially this far South." Neria winced, hearing the chastising in her voice. She didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with anyone here. Not within the first few day, at least. "Come. There is a fire going in the next room."
The Seeker guided her and the guards into a small, compact room, the warmth hitting them immediately when they entered. The mage knelt in front of the fire, extending her hands to the orange embers. The flames seemed to push themselves through her fingertips, leaving Neria in shuddering delight. After days of cold, even the smallest of warmth was appreciated.
"I expect you're hungry. I'll have the cooks bring you a bowl of broth," Cassandra said, coming to Neria. "How goes the King?"
"All is well," Neria assured. "Though the mage uprising is causing him one too many sleepless nights. He has given some in the Rebellion refuge in Redcliffe, but if you ask me that won't last long."
"The King is a good man," the Seeker replied. "Too good, at times."
"'Doesn't know what to do, so his generosity seeps in' is more like it," Neria chuckled, her green eyes meeting the Seeker's. "He is a good man, but if it weren't for those who support him, I doubt he'd be able to keep the country going."
"That could be said with many rulers," Cassandra said, her lips pursed. "What did he think of my proposal?"
"He laughed, at first," Neria replied lightly. "He knows that I don't mix well with all that political shit, and that's what I had thought you wanted me for. He found it humorous. But after a while of thought, he said it was best to send me as his representative."
"Considering he is giving up one of his most trusted advisors, I am glad he thinks our cause is worthy enough to send you." Cassandra muttered. "Come with me. You should meet with the others."
Disappointed that she was being led away from the source of warmth, Neria allowed herself to be walked from the room, Ser Willum and Ser Jory staying behind.
Neria and Cassandra entered a quiet room, which was considerably colder than the other. There was only one occupant inside, who was looking down at the large Table which stood in the middle of the room, sheets of paper covering the wood.
"Commander, this is Neria Surana, one of the King's Advisors and representative of the Crown," Cassandra announced, holding the door open for the younger woman. The man in the room look up from his papers and glanced over to the two newcomers. His gaze quickly settled on the mage, his eyes widening and his mouth agape. "Neria?" he said, straightening.
Neria frowned as she eyed the curly headed man, his face seeming almost familiar. She ignored the massive, fur lined coat and watched as he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. After a few moments, it came to her. "Cullen? Cullen Rutherford?" she broke into a smile.
Cassandra looked between the two, startled. "You two know each other?"
"Yes, I was at her Harrowing," Cullen answered for both of them. "You've… grown since then."
"That's one way to put it," Neria laughed.
She had been very young at the time of her Harrowing, only fourteen, making her the youngest Mage to ever pass the Harrowing in the Fereldan Tower. She remembered Cullen and his Brothers watching over her before she entered the Fade, his face slick with nervousness. They had been friends all of her time in the Circle, even though he had always referred to her as 'Mage'. At one point, she had even had a crush on the young Templar, though when pushed by her friend, she always denied it.
"This was who you met at the Conclave, Cassandra?" The Commander asked, switching his gaze from the mage to the warrior.
"Yes," the Seeker replied. "She proved to be fierce on the field, and was able to calm the soldiers, as well as Chancellor Roderik. I thought perhaps that she had skills that could be of use to us."
"And I'm still here, by the way," the young mage spoke. "And what of the other who was at the Conclave? The one who walked out of the Fade?"
There was a silence that hung over the three, and it was filled with questioning looks between Cassandra and Cullen. "She is here, in Haven," the Seeker replied cautiously. "Although she is yet to awaken. We have our healers tending to her, but they insist that she will come to in her own time."
Neria nodded slowly, wondering what to do with this information. She had only meet the one who everyone was calling the 'Herald of Andraste' once, on the bridge with Cassandra and Chancellor Roderik. She was a young woman name Evelyn, around nineteen the Elf had guessed. Human, quiet, gorgeous.
Many were claiming that the Herald was the one had killed the Divine and caused the explosion, but honestly, Neria believed the opposite. She knew killers. She saw them nearly every day in Denerim, even helped the King sentence a few if their murders fell into her expertise. All the traits and features that a murderer had… the young woman just didn't possess them.
"Well, hopefully she wakes up soon," she spoke. "Then we can ask her about what we saw at the Temple, with the Divine."
Before Cassandra or Cullen could reply, the door behind the mage swung open. "I apologise for being late," came a voice behind her. It sounded Orlesian, but was slightly off, like it had another accent mixed in. "I didn't know we were in session."
"We weren't," the Seeker announced. "We were simply discussing the state of the 'Herald'."
Silence once again filled the room, and she knew that those inside were waiting for her to greet herself. Placing a hand on the table, she turned to greet the intruder.
Then she stopped.
In front of her stood a tall, thin, hooded woman. It was clear that she had red-hair, as proved by the tuffs spilling out from the sides of the cowl. Her deep, sea blue eyes watched Neria like a hawk, taking in her appearance and waiting for the mage to introduce herself.
Apparently, the Elf had forgotten, too enchanted by the woman in front of her.
'Makar's Balls, she's… she's… Andraste's Tits…'
The Orlesian woman stared at Neria for a good few moments, waiting for her to speak. She glanced over to Cassandra, who frowned at the young Elf. The woman shook her head slowly, then spoke. "'We'? Who is our guest?"
"This is Neria Surana," Cassandra introduced somewhat awkwardly. "She is who I told you of, one of the King's Advisors." She turned to Neria and gestured to the Orlesian. "And this is Sister Leliana. She is our Spymaster."
"Tactfully put, Cassandra," the red-head smirked over to the woman.
Neria swallowed the lump in her throat, and chastised herself at the redness of her cheeks. "I- uhh," she coughed. Leliana watched her carefully again, narrowing her eyes at the young mage. Clearing her throat, Neria straightened and rested her arms clumsily at her sides. "Hi," she greeted, a small – awkward – laugh soon following it.
If those in the room hadn't thought her mentally challenged, they definitely must have after that introduction.
The so called meeting lasted only another twenty minutes, and Neria wasn't able to listen to a word anyone was saying. Her gaze kept wondering over to the Orlesian beauty, studying her pale, silk-like skin. She observed the thinness, and pink texture of her rosy lips, how her red hair would move in disruption when she looked up to say something. And most importantly, her eyes; how blue they were, a colour so rich and deep Neria felt she could easily get lost in them, how they narrowed when those ocean eyes met with her own green ones, only for the mage to hastily look away in embarrassment as she felt her cheeks redden.
Eventually, tired of the glances, the Spymaster called her out. "Is there a problem?" she asked, her voice agitated.
Neria's eyes widened as once she realised it was her the Orlesian was talking to, and she quickly jumped to attention. "No!" she exclaimed. "No, no! No problem here!" She grinned, which she was positive was lopsided and goofy. The red-head narrowed her eyes at her again, and looked back down at the Table.
And to make matters worse, she could have sworn she heard the Seeker scoff.
A.N: I'm just gonna leave this here...
I didn't know where to end it, so Cassandra scoffing will have to do :D I saw an 'Advisor AU' somewhere and this kinda came to mind. The original AU idea is that the Warden and Leliana never meet in Origins, but in Inquisition instead with the Warden as an Advisor.
However, I threw my own twist in, where there are two Wardens in Origins but they are separated after the Battle of Ostigar. One meets Leliana, they fall in love and that Warden becomes the Hero of Fereldan, but unfortunately dies defeating the Archdemon (because angst and heartbreak). The other becomes Alistair's arcane advisor after the Blight and is sent to join the Inquisition when it is founded again, meets Leliana and has an instant, insane crush on her. Ta da.
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter :D
~RJay