Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Fetch the Seeker, the prisoner will wake soon.”

A soothing male voice was all Ellana heard before feeling her body being jerked around. Where’s Nonny? she thought wearily. My hand feels funny… oh Creators, my head…

When she cracked her eyes open, the Keeper’s Second was immediately blinded by the green light pouring from a mark on her palm with loud crackling sounds that startled her. Her wrists were in a stock and she was on her knees in a dark dungeon, surrounded by human guards. A door opened, flooding the room with firelight silhouetting two figures as they entered. Ellana groaned, the pain in her hand and head getting stronger as her mind cleared. When she looked away from her hand again only a hooded woman was in front of her.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” came a commanding female voice from over her shoulder, making the elf cringe away. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

As the second woman spoke, both circled the mage, who struggled to focus through the pain. Suddenly the woman who spoke grabbed her injured hand.

“Explain this,” the human demanded as the elf cried softly in pain.

“I-I can’t!” The mystery woman didn't like that answer.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I don’t know what it is, or how it got there-“ she was cut off as her shoulders were grabbed roughly-

“-you’re lying!”

“We need her, Cassandra!” The hooded woman pulled the other off of Ellana.

“Where is Mahanon?” Ellana asked with wide eyes.

“Who?” Asked the hooded woman.

“My brother, he was with me but…” she trailed off, her memory failing her.

“Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

“I.. remember running. Things were chasing me and then…. a woman?” Images of a feminine figure stretching out a hand ran through her mind.

“A woman?”

“She reached out to me, but then…” Falling. Pain. Shouts. Lots of hands. Then, quiet.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana,” Cassandra urged when it was obvious Ellana could recall nothing further. “I will take her to the rift.”

The hooded woman - Leliana - hesitated for a moment before leaving. Cassandra watched her companion leave before walking back over to the elf and exchanging the stock for ropes around the wrists.

“I still don’t know what happened,” Ellana said with a pained huff as she was pulled to her feet.

“It… will be easier to show you.”

That’s all she got as she was led through a stone hallway, up a flight of stairs and through a large set of double doors. Doors that revealed the chaos outside, blinding green light from the sky, sounds of explosions and wails of the injured and dying. Once her eyes adjusted, the Dalish apprentice’s eyes were drawn to the line of exploding green light over the mountain. Please, please, please let Nonny have survived whatever horrors happened here.

“We call it ‘the Breach.’ It’s a massive rift into the Fade that grows larger with each passing hour,” Cassandra explains. “It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

“An explosion shouldn’t be able to do that,” Ellana frowned.

“This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

As if to punctuate Cassandra’s words, the very ground began to tremble under Ellana’s bare toes as the Breach flared and the mark on her hand sparked painfully, bringing the redhead to her knees with a foreign curse. When the mark settled back down, she looked up to see Cassandra crouched before her. Now that Ellana could see her, she found Cassandra to be quite a handsome woman. A strong jaw complimented by short black hair, framing deadly hazel eyes. Her scars only emphasized what was now obvious in daylight: this woman was a cunning warrior.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“The key to doing what, exactly?”

“Closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly.” The human’s eyes harden yet retain a semblance of sympathy. “It is our only chance, however. And yours.”

The mage took a deep breath before answering.

“Alright. I’ll do what I can, whatever it takes.”

---

This time, when Ellana woke, she felt no pain. In fact, she was comfortable and warm. Her impossibly long hair was neatly braided in one long rope beside her on - is this a bed? When did I kiss Sylaise’s ass for this? Better than the cell I woke up in last time. A sudden thud from inside the room had the mage flying to sit up.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” the frightened elf squeaked.

“Why are you afraid, da’len?” Ellana asked as the servant fell to her knees.

“I beg your forgiveness and your blessing! I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us, the Breach stopped growing just like the mark on your hand.” Said mark was glowing softly, looking as if it hadn’t just recently tried to kill her. “It’s all anyone has talked about the last three days.”

Three days?! Wait, how long has it been since the explosion? What is today?

“So the danger is over?”

“The Breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say,” the other elf rises to her feet and starts to back away toward the door, abandoning the crate she had dropped. “I’m certain Lady Cassandra will want to know you’re awake! She said ‘At once.’”

“And where is she?” Ellana asked as she finally stood.

“In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once,’ she said!”

With that, the elven servant scurried out the door like a cat with its tail on fire, and the Dalish was left alone. Taking in her surroundings and stretching carefully, she noted that she was in a one-room cabin, in only her tunic and leggings. But the rest of her Keeper robes were folded and stacked neatly on a chair by the fireplace. Her eyes finally fell on a true treasure: a hairbrush on a washbasin. Rushing over, she washed her face and wove her hair into a thick but messy crown braid. Ellana’s golden-green eyes twinkled back at her in the mirror as she put her robes back on with a small smile. But it soon faded as her thoughts once again turned to her brother.

Mythal, I beg you to protect my brother until I can find him, wherever he wound up this time.

——

“‘Don’t worry, Nonny, I’ll blend right in with the other mages and no one will be the wiser!’ Dirth ar banal! No one said the human temple would explode!”

Mahanon cursed this mad quest, and himself for letting his sister convince him to take her on it. The pain he felt when the Conclave was destroyed, knowing his sister was inside with no way of escape, was something he had sworn that he’d never feel again after their brother died. He’d poked around the rubble as best he could with no sign of her body. After two days of the area becoming more and more overrun with demons, and no sign of Ellie, he was forced to retreat to the outskirts of the human village. There he climbed the tallest tree he could find and scanned the horizon, one of many things they both learned from their older brother, though Ellie was the superior climber. Over the treetops was the Breach, bright and angry, spitting demons and debris from the sky. As he sat back against the tree trunk Mahanon contemplated what to do next, but exhaustion from non-stop searching caused him to fall asleep, safe in his tree.

He woke hours later from a shock wave hitting the trees and he was nearly flung to his death. Armored fingers dug into the wood and saved him from a nasty fall. Once the trees had settled, he looked to the horizon again and saw the Breach had calmed. Cheers were heard from the village, humans giving thanks to their gods, though the Herald of Andraste was one he hadn’t heard of before. The archer descended stealthily, probing Haven’s walls for any entrance. It seemed that the wall of rock near the Chantry would provide access, once night fell. Mahanon watched as a crowd of the Inquisition’s people moved down the mountain towards the gates. At the fore was a burly blonde man and a woman with short black hair, both half leading half carrying a small copper-haired-

“Bless the Creators! She lives!”

Abandoning his hiding spot, Mahanon dropped from the wall and sprinted through the village, ignoring the shocked whispers of the humans around him. He shoved the gates open and tore across the snow to his baby sister, screaming her name but she did not respond. As he neared the congression of reverent humans, the blonde man drew his sword and stood ready to defend against the archer. The Dalish slid to a stop as he drew his bow and aimed an arrow at the humans.

“Release my sister, shem, before I shoot you in the head.”

“We have no quarrel-“

“You are Mahanon?” The black haired woman asked. “She asked after you but we had no answer. If you would let us explain-“

“I said release her! Now!” He tightened his grip, bow creaking under his fingers.

“Step aside, Commander.”

The man glanced at her, then nodded and lowered his sword. She stepped forward, easily lifting Ellie’s limp form into her arms to offer the elf to Mahanon. He quickly replaced his bow on his back and took his sister carefully.

“I can promise you that no harm has befallen her, nor was that our intent. We can provide a safe place to rest before you depart if that is what you plan to do, but know she had questions that you may both wish to hear the answers to.”

As the woman spoke, he looked over his unconscious sister. She had a strange mark on her hand that glowed a faint green, like her eyes and vallaslin. Her breathing was deep and even, and though she was splattered with blood and viscera, none of it appeared to be hers. Her heavily freckled face was pale and sweaty but untroubled. He looked back up at the two humans before him.

“We will stay until she wakes.”

——

It took much convincing from Cassandra for Mahanon to allow anyone to treat his sister’s fever. When he did, it was an elf named Solas. Ironic, a flat-ear called Pride. Though he closely watched the mage care for his sister, Solas seemed unbothered by the other elf’s hovering. Once Ellie’s stability was assured, Mahanon refused access to anyone. The first day of waiting was spent sitting by the fire in their small cabin, maintaining his weapons and armor, then his sister’s as well. Occasionally an elven servant would come in to bring food and water. The fear in their eyes when they would glance his way made his heart ache with an old kind of hurt. The second day, he was already bored of being inside and itched to breathe fresh air. The fire made the air hot and stuffy in the cramped cabin, but he was reluctant to leave his sister alone. Before daybreak on the third day, he couldn’t stand it anymore and vaulted silently out the window.

The archer kept to the shadows as he made his way to the docks, the soft snowfall in the air illuminated by the sinking moon. As much as he and his sister detested the cold, he had to admit it was beautiful like this. Once he had passed the gates, his eyes were caught by a figure on the end of a dock. Keeping in stealth, he approached cautiously. The figure was seated on a crate, staring up at the moon. Once he was close enough to see, he pressed his lips together to conceal a gasp. It was obvious she was Antivan, her lovely caramel skin and striking features were familiar despite knowing he’d never met her before in his life. Her dark hair fell in waves around her waist, fluttering lazily in the gentle breeze. Is she singing? It’s… awful. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle at her off-key melody, clearly in her native tongue. She jumped in surprise at the sudden noise, but by the time she turned to look he was nowhere to be seen.

Mahanon hurried back to his sister, but the image of the woman on the dock remained in the forefront of his mind. I’m such a fool, he thought as he laid on his bedroll. If Aspen were here, he’d mock me mercilessly for making halla-eyes at a shem. Even if she is more beautiful than the moon.

When the morning truly arrived, the archer decided to go in search of herbs, as his stock was low after the long journey from the Free Marches. A decision he’d regret within hours.

——

“That’s her, that’s the Herald of Andraste.”

Herald of Andraste, the Maker’s Chosen, these titles echoed in whispers around Ellana as she wandered her way through the crowds of humans murmuring her name. The snow had blinded her again and her squinted eyes made her look angry, causing fear to leak into the voices of those watching her. Following the gaps in the crowd, the mage quickly found herself in the Chantry, where she could hear raised voices from the room at the end of the hall clear from the entrance.

“The elf failed, Seeker. The Breach is still in the sky! For all you know, she intended it this way.” Roderick’s voice was just as grating behind a door and across a temple - right, humans call it a Chantry - as it was in person.

“I do not believe that.” Cassandra’s firm dismissal made Ellana smile.

“That is not for you to decide. Your duty is to serve the Chantry.”

“My duty is to serve the principles on which the Chantry was founded, Chancellor. As is yours.”

A round of applause for the Seeker, everyone! But I should probably join the conversation…

As soon as she stepped through the door, the Chancellor sneered at the Keeper’s Second.

“Chain her!” he snapped at the guards. “I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial.”

“Disregard that, and leave us,” Cassandra sighed, and the guards obeyed her.

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick grumbled.

More like everyone knows who’s really in charge.

“The Breach is stable but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

“I almost died trying to close the Breach, and you’re still winging?” Ellana drawled with a raised brow.

“Yet you conveniently still live,” growled the Chancellor.

“Have a care, Chancellor,” Cassandra interjected firmly. “The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

Leliana finally stepped forward to speak. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave, someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others - or, have allies who yet live.”

“I am a suspect?” Roderick sputtered.

“You, and many others.”

“But not the prisoner,” he snarled.

“I heard the voices in the temple myself. The Divine called to her for help.” Cassandra sounded like she’d been having this argument for days.

“So that thing on her hand, her survival - all a coincidence?”

“Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.”

“You realize that not only am I a Dalish elf, but a mage?” Ellana asked, reeling from the mental whiplash of the Seeker’s change in attitude.

“I have not forgotten.” Cassandra frowned. “No matter what you are or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it.”

As Cassandra turned away, Leliana spoke again.

“The Breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.”

“This is not for you to decide!”

Creators, will no one shut him up? The elf’s internal complaining was interrupted by Cassandra slamming a thick tome onto the war table.

“You know what this is, Chancellor. A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.” She started to approach the Chancellor who backed away at the same time. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval.”

Roderick glared around the room before storming out without another word. Fucking finally. Ellana’s attention was recaptured by Leliana.

“This is the Divine’s directive: rebuild the inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice,” Cassandra continued heavily, turning to face Ellana. “We must act now, with you at our side.”

“What is ‘the Inquisition of old’ exactly?” the elf asked, stalling for time. Keeper Deshanna would lose her mind if I joined these people, let alone what Nonny would say!

“It preceded the Chantry: people who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad,” Leliana began.

“After, they laid down their arms and formed the Templar Order. But the templars have lost their way,” Cassandra continued. “We need those who can do what must be done united under one banner once more.”

“But don’t you technically still serve the Chantry?”

Cassandra huffed a laugh. “Is that all you see?”

“The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine, and then it will wait for her direction,” was Leliana’s answer.

“But we cannot wait. So many clerics died at the Conclave.” Cassandra continuing Leliana’s thought again merely served to show Ellana how well the two worked together. “So no, we are on our own. Perhaps forever.”

Ellana fell silent for a beat, then - “And what if I refuse?”

“You can go if you wish.”

Cassandra shook her head in dismay. “You should know that while some believe you were chosen, many still think you to be guilty. We can only protect you if you are with us. It will not be easy if you stay, but you cannot pretend this has not changed you.”

“If… you’re truly trying to restore order…”

“Help us fix this, before it is too late,” Cassandra implored her, extending a hand.

Ellana took a deep breath and shook the Seeker’s hand.

——

As soon as she stepped out of the Chantry she was yanked into a hard embrace from her left.

“You’re finally awake, da’len,” came a deep and familiar voice in her ear.

“Nonny! You’re alive!” She threw her arms around her brother and squeezed hard. “Where were you hiding?”

“I was looking for you, stupid,” he grumbled as he pulled back enough to look her over.

His shoulder length brown hair had come out of his usual updo, nearly falling into his darker green eyes. His Dirthamen vallaslin accentuated the angles of his face and was the same green color as his sister’s. From the bags under his eyes, Ellana could tell he’d been worried sick about her.

“I’m alright, I promise.”

“Now that you’re awake we can go home,” he declared with much relief.

“Um, about that -“

“Oh no, nono, there is no way we’re staying here.”

“Nonny, people think I killed the Divine, I won't be safe anywhere but with the Inquisition. You know I’m right!”

“You can’t possibly expect me to just leave you here alone,” he scoffed.

“Of course not, but we have to send word to the clan that we’re okay. This mark on my hand is something even the People have never seen before, and you know the Keeper would want us to get answers.”

He glared at her but said nothing.

“You’re just glaring at me because you know I’m right, and you’re mad about it,” she said seriously, barely containing a smile.

“I want to go home, damn you.”

“We will, but I have to find out what happened. They also need me. Whatever this mark is, it can seal the rifts.”

“Creators only know how long that will take,” Nonny grumbled as he released his sister.

“Don’t make me say it, Nonny.”

“What?”

“It only takes as long as it’s meant to,” she recited in the same tone their Keeper always used.

He made a noise of disgust and turned away as Ellana laughed.

“Come explore the village with me?”

“Why in the name of Elgar’nan would I want to do that?”

“Because you’re just as curious as me but you pretend not to be?”

“Fuck you.”

“Come on, then!”

“I don’t want-“

But she was already dragging him away by the wrist. The first thing she wanted to do was introduce her brother to Varric. She found the dwarf easily enough, his bright red shirt and auburn hair sticking out like a sore thumb against the stark white snow. His stubbled chin set him apart from his fellow dwarves, his joke about his beard falling on his chest still made her giggle.

“Varric!”

“Hey, Firecracker,” the author greeted with a smile. He glanced at Nonny with a quirked brow but focused his attention on Ellana. “So, now that Cassandra’s out of earshot, are you holding up alright? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would’ve spread that out over more than one day.”

“Honestly? I have no idea what’s going on,” the mage confessed with a shrug, causing Varric to chuckle.

“If you figure it out, let me know. For days now we’ve been staring up at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for moral’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

“She almost didn’t,” Nonny grumbled, glaring at the fire by Varric’s tent.

“You can say that again, Sourpuss.”

Ellana let out a peal of laughter, her bell tone ringing clear over the chatter of the villagers around them.

“Sourpuss, that’s great!”

“All in a day’s work, Firecracker.” Varric’s face turned serious. “You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

Ellana frowned at him, but Nonny spoke before she had a chance.

“Good luck, I already tried to get her to leave but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Makes sense, she’s the type.”

“Thanks, I think?” She rolled her eyes. “There’s still more village to see, so we’ll talk to you later, Varric.”

“By all means, don’t let me keep you.”

——

The last thing Mahanon wanted was to be dragged around an unfamiliar human settlement by his excitable sister, yet here he was the following day. Following the sound of hammers hitting metal past their cabin and through the gates and hooking a left, she easily found the smithy. He hung back while Ellie chatted with the blacksmith, Harold or something like that, watching while the human showed her around and explained how to request armor and weapons. After that they went to watch the troops training by the lake, Ellie twirling a loose lock of hair while chattering away at him. About everything that had happened to her since the temple exploded and how the Inquisition had turned fully on its head in regards to her guilt in the murder of their religious leader.

He examined the mark on her hand as she talked, probing gently at it with his long fingers. It looked like a crack in her skin revealing a bright, white-green light. She confirmed that after the Breach had been stabilized it stopped being painful, yet his brow remained furrowed in concern. He allowed this to happen, and he had a feeling the guilt wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

“It’s not your fault, Nonny,” Ellie said softly.

“You don’t even remember what happened. I should have protected you.”

“It was my decision, the Keeper told you to trust my judgment.”

“As if I’ll ever do that again,” he snorted humorlessly.

“Mahanon, you will listen to me if you know what’s good for you,” she stated flatly. “The humans already trust me more than they trust you and I have no doubt it will be an issue unless you get it together. Regardless of how we got in this situation, we’re in it now and your attitude will not do any good.”

He sighed, releasing her hand and turning to look out over the lake.

“You shame me, lethallan. My distrust of the shemlen will only cause us more issues. You’re right, of course.”

“I usually am and yet you’re always surprised.”

“My lady Herald,” came the meek voice of a messenger from behind them. “Lady Pentaghast wishes to speak with you in the Chantry.”

“Ma nuvenin, da’len,” Ellie smiled at the flat-ear. “We will be along shortly.”

“I don’t know why you bother using the People’s tongue with flat-ears,” Mahanon muttered as the messenger hurried away. “They won’t understand you.”

“You’d be surprised, sometimes they understand the feeling of what you say even if they don’t know the words. Come on, since you’re intent on keeping an eye on me, you might as well join me.”

Ignoring his grumbles, Ellie led the way back to the Chantry where Cassandra was waiting. The Seeker raised an eyebrow at Mahanon but focused on his sister as she absently examined her mark.

“Does it trouble you?”

“I just wish I knew what it was, or even just how I got it,” Ellie lamented.

“We will find out,” Cassandra reassured her. “What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt may succeed, provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”

“What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?” Ellie snarked with a grin, making her brother snort.

“Hold on to that sense of humor,” Cassandra huffed, then gestured for the elves to follow her into the war room.

What little attention Mahanon had been paying to the goings on around him was snatched by the woman to the right of the war table. It was the woman from the docks, who couldn’t sing. He found himself unable to look away, practically staring a hole through her head. She was somehow even more beautiful in the firelight, her dark hair pulled back in an intricately braided bun. The gold and blue of her dress complimented her skin so well she seemed to glow. She met his stare with curious storm-blue eyes that seemed to pin him to the spot. By the time he came back to reality she was speaking — speaking elvhen.

“Andaran atish’an,” she greeted warmly.

“You speak elven?” He blurted, surprising even himself.

“You’ve just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid,” she chuckled softly.

“And of course, you know Sister Leliana-“

The conversation continued around him but Mahanon couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her — Josephine, he thought Cassandra had called her. Josephine, Josephine, how utterly unfair that you had to be so lovely and yet I cannot even come close to touching your world. The archer felt a prickle on the back of his neck and his eyes were drawn to Leliana - who had noticed him staring and seemed most displeased. He had the decency to look cowed behind his sister and forced his attention back to the conversation.

“I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach permanently,” Cassandra was saying to Ellie.

“Which means we need to approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana chirped, still watching Mahanon carefully.

“And I still disagree,” interjected the blonde man that the archer had almost completely failed to notice due to his fixation on Josephine. The same man that had tried to defend his own sister from him. “The templars would do just as well.”

I think the Seeker called him Cullen? Why are human names so strange. His eyes flickered to Josephine again. Well, maybe not all of them. Cullen had curly blonde hair slicked back neatly, a scarred upper lip like Mahanon and looked like a man perpetually on the verge of exhaustion. Sleep was not this man’s friend.

“We need power, Commander,” Cassandra sighed. “Enough magic poured into that mark-“

“-might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-“

“Pure speculation,” Leliana interrupted dismissively, which seemed to aggravate the blonde.

“I was a templar, I know what they’re capable of,” the Commander insisted softly.

“Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet,” Josephine spoke up, making Mahanon’s heart leap into his throat. Get it together, Nonny! He chided himself. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition — and you, specifically.”

“I think that’s a new record for people hating me on principle,” Ellie replied dryly.

“Shouldn’t they be busy arguing over who’s going to be the next Divine?” Cullen questioned.

“Some are calling you — a Dalish elf — the ‘Herald of Andraste’,” Josephine explained. “That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt,” Cassandra huffed again.

“It limits our options,” Josephine agreed. She has the most charming wrinkle in her brow when she’s worried. “Approaching the mages or the templars for help is currently out of the question.”

Ellie seemed to be reeling. “Just how am I the ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

“People saw what you did at the Temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing,” Cassandra supplied. “They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste.”

“Ridiculous,” Mahanon huffed, crossing his arms.

“Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-“

“Which we have not.”

Leliana shot an annoyed look at Cassandra for interrupting. “The point is, everyone is talking about you.”

“It’s quite the title, isn’t it?” Cullen mused. “How do you feel about that?”

“It’s…. unnerving,” Ellie answered, albeit a bit anxiously.

“I’m sure the Chantry would agree,” the Commander chuckled darkly.

“People are desperate for a sign of hope,” Leliana began. “For some, you are that sign.”

“And to others, a symbol of everything that has gone wrong,” Josephine finished grimly.

“So if Ellana wasn’t with the Inquisition…?” Mahanon questioned, looking directly at Josephine in hopes of getting his answer from her.

“Let’s be honest, they would’ve censured us no matter what,” Cullen sighed.

“And her not being here isn’t an option,” Cassandra said firmly.

“There is something the two of you can do,” Leliana chirped. “A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to Ellana. She is not far and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.” The spymaster’s piercing gaze shifts ever so slightly to pin Mahanon to the spot. “I’m sure you both would relish the chance to get out of the snow for a time.”

He merely jerked his head in a slight nod and looked away. Message received, Nightingale. The Ambassador is to be left alone. Not like I had any intentions of… anything, really.

“Why would a Chantry Mother help a declared heretic?” Ellie asked, clueless of the exchange that just happened.

“I imagine she is a reasonable sort. Perhaps she does not agree with her sisters? You will find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you’re there,” Cullen added.

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine concluded thoughtfully.

“In the meantime, let’s think of other options,” Cassandra said. “I will not leave this all to the Herald.”

With that, the meeting was concluded and Mahanon saw himself out. Ellie can handle the rest, since she seems to be dead set on doing so anyway. He didn't catch the look between Josephine and Leliana as he left.

Chapter Text

Scout Lace Harding was fascinating to listen to. No matter what the dwarf spoke about, Ellana found herself hanging off her every word. It absolutely had nothing to do with her not wanting to think about her conversation with Solas before they had left Haven.

“Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

She didn’t know what was worse, her own growing anxiety over the humans worshiping her or the fact that Nonny could tell it was getting to her and was being the exact opposite of helpful. She could tell something was bothering him as well but they were constantly around Cassandra and Solas, and while she trusted Varric, Nonny didn’t. They couldn’t even speak elvhen together because apparently Solas spoke it better than any Dalish they knew. While he had technically done nothing to raise her suspicions, she couldn’t help but feel like he was watching her, waiting for something. She supposed it could be him pondering over her marked hand but she couldn’t be sure.

“It’s odd for a Dalish elf to care what happens to anyone else, but you’ll get no backtalk here. All of us here — we’ll do whatever we can to help,” Harding promised firmly.

“Harding, huh?” Varric drawled with a smile. “Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?”

“I can’t say I have. Why?”

“You’d be Harding in… oh, never mind.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise from behind Ellana, who just smiled and shook her head.

“I’m starting to worry about these stories everyone’s heard,” the elf confessed.

“Oh nothing to worry about,” Harding replied seriously. “They only say you’re the last great hope for Thedas.”

“Oh, wonderful. That won’t go to her head at all,” Nonny muttered from beside his sister.

After a thorough briefing from Harding, the group made their way downhill towards the Crossroads. Ellana rested a hand on the hilt of her spirit blade at her belt, a habit she picked up from training with Aspen. It was good to have it back, having left it with Nonny before going alone into the Conclave. As they walked, they passed abandoned cabins as well as an increasing number of bodies of templars, mages, and refugees alike.

“I hear fighting up ahead,” Nonny announced from beside Ellana. “Be ready.”

“Inquisition forces,” Cassandra confirmed as the group picked up the pace. “They’re trying to protect the refugees!”

“Let’s give them a hand!” Varric called as they came around the bend and saw the battle at the crossroads.

Ellana exchanged glances with her brother, who nodded as he readied his bow. In her left hand, drew her spirit sword which erupted in a blade of pure flame, startling those around her and drawing the attention of the templars. In her right hand she gripped her staff, casting chain lightning on the nearest group of templars - effectively immobilizing three and stunning two more. As she launched herself at the templars - flaming sword in hand - Nonny covered her with his arrows and simply smiled with pride. Cassandra recovered from her surprise quickly and joined Ellana at the fore, both women slashing viciously at the enemy.

“It seems your sister has no fear,” Solas huffed to Nonny, casting a frost rune at the mages in the distance.

“I just don’t want to get on her bad side,” Varric laughed from Solas’s other side, crossbow running wild.

“She learned from the best,” Nonny muttered.

As the templars fell, the group focused on the remaining mages.

“We are not templars, we mean you no harm!” Solas called desperately, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Doesn’t look like they're listening,” Varric pointed out as he barely dodged a fireball, which singed his sleeve.

Ellana cast a barrier over the three men, then cast an explosive rune in the path of a spellbinder. Cassandra grappled him with a chain and yanked him into the rune, effectively taking out the final enemy.

“Is anyone hurt?” Ellana asked the group, wiping her forehead lightly.

“A little singed around the edges but fine,” Varric answered dismissively.

Nonny simply walked over to his sister and offered a singed arm. She frowned but held a glowing hand over the wound for a moment.

“Better?”

“Much. Ma serannas, lethallan.”

“Always. Are you sure you’re okay, Varric?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Firecracker,” the dwarf waved her off.

“You follow the dirth’ena enasalin,” Solas commented, sounding almost impressed.

“What does that mean?” Cassandra asked curiously.

“It is the way of the Arcane Warrior, but modern Circle mages would call the discipline ‘Knight Enchanter’,” Solas explained simply.

“A more direct translation would be ‘knowledge that led to victory’, though Arcane Warrior sounds much better,” Ellana added with a small smile.

“Don’t brag, da’len,” Nonny grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s our clan’s specialization, including crafting weapons from more rare materials, like ironbar- ow!” She continued but was cut off by her brother elbowing her in the ribs.

“That’s not for outsiders,” he interjected harshly.

“At any rate, we must locate Mother Giselle,” Cassandra said firmly, bringing attention back to the task at hand.

“Harding said she’d be with the wounded, so- ah, over there!” The redhead pointed to a hut with cots outside, the distinctive red and white of Chantry robes standing out against the greenery.

After awkwardly nodding at reverent Inquisition scouts, Ellana led the group across the road, Nonny close behind her as usual. Among the wounded, Mother Giselle was talking softly to a delirious soldier on a cot.

“There are mages here who can heal your wounds,” she told him, her Orlesian accent thick. “Lie still.”

“Don’t! Don’t let them touch me, Mother,” he slurred harshly. “Their magic is-“

“-turned to noble purpose,” she interrupted gently. “Their magic is surely no more evil than your blade.”

“But…”

“Hush, dear boy. Allow them to ease your suffering.”

Ellana waited a small distance away while Giselle eased the soldier into relaxing. The Mother turned to her with an expectant expression.

“Mother Giselle, I presume?” The elf probed.

“I am,” the human confirmed as she stood. “And you must be the one they are calling, ‘the Herald of Andraste’.”

“If I had it my way they would just call me ‘Ellana’, as I hope you will.”

Giselle chuckled. “We seldom have much say in our fate, I’m sad to say.”

“So you agree with them,” Nonny grumbled, more to himself than the cleric.

“I don’t presume to know the Maker’s intentions for any of us. But I did not ask you to come simply to debate with me.”

“Then why are we here?” The Dalish archer demanded, earning a dark look from Cassandra for his rudeness.

“I know of the Chantry’s denouncement, and am familiar with those behind it. I won’t lie to you: some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their own chances of becoming the new Divine; some are simply terrified. So many good people, senselessly taken from us.”

“But don’t you stand with the rest of the Chantry?” Ellana questioned.

“With no Divine, we are each left to our own conscience, and mine tells me this: go to them. Convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe.”

“You want me to appeal to the people who want me dead? Will they even listen?”

“If I had thought you incapable, I wouldn’t suggest it,” the cleric smiled serenely. “Let me put it this way: you needn’t convince them all, you just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you’ll receive the time you need.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Ellana sighed, rubbing away the growing headache above her eyes. “It’s good of you to do this.”

“I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by fate or sent to help us but, I hope. Hope is what we need right now. The people will listen to your rallying call, as they will listen to no other. You can build the Inquisition into force that will deliver us, or destroy us.” There was a pregnant pause as she let her words settle. “I will go to Haven, and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can.”

——

“That should be more than enough to feed the refugees for a while, Nonny,” Ellie sighed, scratching a mark on her map with the pen given to her by Josephine. “And I think that’s the last of the apostate caches.”

Mahanon tried (and definitely failed) not to be jealous of the gift. He knew perfectly well it was ridiculous to be jealous over a pen and yet…

“Good, I was getting tired of skinning and gutting rams.”

“You’re just mad I shot more of them than you did, Sourpuss,” Varric teased, leaning against a nearby tree.

Mahanon merely huffed and added the meat of the last ram to the satchel they had brought, the skins rolled up and stowed on their packhorse. It had been a long, long walk from Haven to the Hinterland crossroads. Even back with his clan he hadn’t walked so far, usually riding on the aravels pulled by the halla if not directly on the back of one. His calloused feet were screaming at him and he was anxious to return to camp for the night.

“Let’s hurry back to the Crossroads and rest for the night. Tomorrow we can go find the horse master,” Ellie suggested, looking to the Seeker for approval.

“Agreed, Herald,” Cassandra nodded.

“Cassandra, please just call me Ellana,” the mage begged.

“If you insist,” the Seeker relented.

“I presume that applies to me, as well?” Solas asked, spooking Mahanon who had forgotten the apostate was even there.

“Absolutely it does,” Ellie insisted.

“Would ‘Second’ suffice?”

“If you must, it’s better than hearing ‘my lady Herald’ all the time.”

“Seconded,” Mahanon agreed, then snorted at the pun.

“Laugh it up, ‘Sourpuss’,” Ellie retorted.

“Rather be ‘Sourpuss’ over ‘the Maker’s Chosen’ anyday, da’len. They blatantly ignore the fact that you deny it with every other breath,” he smirked at his little sister.

Little in more than just age. Everyone here towers over her, except Tethras. Solas in particular was tall for an elf, yet still distinctly of the People. Mahanon considered the apostate for a moment, studying him properly for the first time since he had treated Ellie. Solas was slender but not willowy, strong but not particularly muscular. He seemed utterly unremarkable, and yet…

“They believe she is the best hope for Thedas,” Cassandra said defensively, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Then they obviously know nothing about her,” he retorted.

“Nonny, stop it,” Ellie hissed in his ear as she poked him in the ribs.

“Shall we get underway? I am certain we all wish to rest,” Solas suggested smoothly, as if trying to defuse the growing tension.

So the group returned to the Crossroads and learned of a small waterfall by Calenhad’s foothold, perfect for recovering from a long journey. It was even in the same direction as the horsemaster. Having delivered the cache locations, ram meat, healing herbs, and even a breathing potion complete with recipe, the group hurried off to the waterfall. The dwarven forward scout called Harding was already there with her crew, setting up a campsite by the waterfall.

“Scout Harding! You beat us here,” Ellie greeted as the group approached.

“Comes with the territory, your Worship,” the dwarf replied with a grin. “My people here can finish setting up if your group wants to freshen up at the waterfall.”

Once they all were clean and refreshed, Ellie and Cassandra shared a tent while Varric and Solas shared another. Mahanon had a quiet argument with his sister about sleeping in a tree rather than a tent, her insisting that Harding and her people would keep watch and him stubbornly refusing to let his guard down. They both knew that the explosion at the Conclave had traumatized him but they hadn’t talked about it. She quickly relented, even offering to join him but he declined. He trusted the Seeker to defend his sister.

——

“It occurs to me I barely know anything about you or your brother,” Cassandra mused from her bedroll.

“What do you want to know?” Ellana answered as she unrolled her blankets.

“For starters, where are you from?”

“My brothers and I were all born in the wilds of Antiva, though by the time I was twelve we had roamed south to the Free Marches.”

“Mahanon is not your only brother?”

Ellana hesitated, clearly regretting mentioning it.

“Nonny and I had an older brother, Aspen. He’s with the Creators now.”

“You have my condolences, I lost my older brother as well.”

The two women fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither questioning further for fear of the other doing the same.

“What is Antiva like? I am aware you likely didn't enter the cities, what about the countryside?” Cassandra asked suddenly.

“Some places are green while others are desert areas,” Ellana answered, eager to change the subject as she got comfortable. “Particularly around the capital. I did go to Anitiva City once, with my brothers when I was small. The port was my favorite spot to watch people passing by. It’s a warm country but it's a dry heat in most places. I spent my childhood there and so I was accustomed to the warmth. The first time I ever saw snow was when I was fourteen after we moved to the Free Marches.”

“I have heard that the Dalish in Antiva are more… aggressive than other clans in Thedas,” Cassandra probed cautiously.

“That’s true, we had to become more protective of resources in desert areas but there are some clans that have devolved completely into banditry rather than follow the old ways. That’s true in more than just Antiva, and I dare say with more than just elves.”

Cassandra hummed thoughtfully. “You may have a point at that. Where I grew up there weren’t very many Dalish to speak of. I admit I was… apprehensive when the faithful began calling a Dalish the Herald of Andraste.”

“Apprehensive may be a bit of an understatement, there,” Ellana teased.

The Seeker laughed ruefully, “I wish to apologize for my behavior when we first met. I treated you as nothing more than a suspect and not a person in your own right. That was unworthy of me.” She paused thoughtfully. “I admit it has been eye opening to see how you treat people, even those who insist on referring to you by a title you do not believe in. Your behavior has already changed the way I and many others view the Dalish. In such a short time you have proven to me that my initial expectation of what a Dalish should be was foolish.”

Ellana gave a tinkling laugh. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure my brother is more like what you expected of a Dalish.”

Cassandra blinked. “I am not sure if that is a good thing or not. Sister Leliana does not seem terribly fond of his fascination with Lady Josephine.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about it myself, honestly,” the elf mumbled uncertainly. “He thinks he’s being subtle-“

Cassandra choked out a laugh, “That is his attempt at subtlety?”

“I never said he was good at it!” Ellana chuckled. “His first foray into love was a girl from another clan during the great meeting of clans when I was about thirteen or fourteen. He was eighteen or nineteen and he saw the crafting apprentice of another clan and immediately asked her to bond with him in front of her parents and her mentor! When Aspen heard the commotion, he scruffed Nonny and apologized profusely to the girl and her loved ones.” As Cassandra laughed, the elf was temporarily lost in memory of another incident at that same gathering.

”Won’t you come with me to the Halla pen, da’len? I can show you-”

“No thank you, I want to stay here and eat with my friends.”

“Come now child, listen to your elders.”

“You may be older than me but you’re not my elder. I don’t have to listen to you, now leave me alone!”

“Listen here brat-”

“Let go of me!”

”Release my sister before I remove your hand from your arm. You have two seconds to make your choice so think quickly.”

“H-hey, I don’t want any-”

“Trouble? Good, neither does my sister, now let go before I change my mind.”

“Ellana?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin from Cassandra calling for her.

“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“Perhaps we should finally rest,” Cassandra suggested softly, and Ellana agreed.

———

“Ellie, what did you say to the Seeker?”

“What do you mean?”

“She keeps smirking at me, what did you tell her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, lethallin.”

“You’re so full of it.”

Ellie just shrugged at him, which only frustrated him more. They had easily cleared the camps of both the templars and mages in the Hinterlands on the way to the horse master, including Mahanon’s first, second and third encounters with fade rifts. He emphatically hated them, he had immediately decided. Mahanon hated many things but he had a new one today: Cassandra kept looking at him and smirking, like she was laughing at some private joke at his expense. Ellie refused to explain anything (he knew she said something to the Seeker) and instead distracted him with their newly acquired horses. He knew nothing about horses except how grateful he was to be riding one back to Haven instead of walking back. That and that they were much larger than halla, and thus could carry more. He could tell he would be sore within hours and looked forward to solitude when they returned.

And yet things couldn’t be so easy, of course, I’m beginning to think solitude is a foreign word to humans, for as soon as they arrived at Haven, they heard a great commotion coming from the Chantry. The Seeker dismounted and hurried off to investigate with Ellie following close behind her. Mahanon scrambled to follow his sister, his charge, and nearly fell off the oversized beast in his haste. Cursing, he freed his ankle from the ridiculous stirrup and took off after his sister. Of course she had a head start and he barely caught up to her when she had approached the crowd in front of the Chantry.

“Your kind killed the Most Holy!” A templar shouted at a mage.

“Lies! Your kind let her die!” The mage bit back.

“Shut your mouth, mage!” The templar reached for his sword, and Mahanon grabbed Ellie’s shoulder, about to pull her behind him-

“Enough!” Cullen suddenly appeared, stopping the fight from even starting.

“Knight-Captain!” the templar gaped in shock.

“That is not my title,” Cullen snarled at both offenders, who cringed back. “We are not templars anymore, we are all part of the Inquisition.”

“And what does that mean, exactly?” The new voice was a male Chantry member that Mahanon didn’t recognize, but he felt Ellie’s shoulder tense when she saw him.

“Back already, chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?” Cullen asked exasperatedly.

“I’m curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its ‘Herald’ will restore order as you’ve promised,” the chancellor drawled, his tone giving the archer a bad taste in his mouth.

“Of course you are,” Cullen said through gritted teeth before turning back to the crowd. “Back to your duties, all of you!”

As the crowd dispersed, Ellie moved to approach Cullen and the chancellor, leaving Mahanon scrambling to keep up.

“Mages and templars were already at war, now they’re blaming each other for the divine’s death,” the Commander stated to Ellie flatly as she approached, no ‘hello how was your journey’ or any kind of greeting.

“Which is why we require a proper authority to bring them back to order,” the chancellor cut in before Ellie could get a word in.

“Who, you?” Cullen snorted. “Random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave?”

“The rebel Inquisition and its so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’? I think not.”

“I don’t know,” Ellie sighed thoughtfully, “the Inquisition seems about as functional as any young family.”

“How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves?”

“Yes, because that would never happen to the Chantry,” Cullen added sarcastically.

“Centuries of tradition will guide us. We are not the upstart, eager to turn over every apple cart.”

“Commander, would you remind me why you’re allowing the chancellor to stay?” Ellana asked Cullen casually.

“Clearly your templar knows where to draw the line,” the chancellor sneered.

“He’s toothless,” Cullen bit out. “There’s no point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth. The chancellor’s a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however.”

“So the templars and the mages are still fighting even though we don’t know what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” Ellana huffed.

“Exactly why all this should be left to a new Divine. If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so.”

“Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat,” Cullen growled as Mahanon snarled wordlessly at this apparently nameless chancellor.

“You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve Justinia’s loss.”

“But you won’t grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet.”

“Well, let’s hope we find solutions, and not a cathedral full of chancellors,” Ellie quipped, effectively breaking the tension, at least for her brother and Cullen.

“The stuff of nightmares,” Cullen chuckled lightly.

“Mock if you will, the Maker is less amused,” the chancellor grumbled.

Ellie motioned for Mahanon to follow, and the two elves entered the Chantry to head towards the war room. A noise from a door to the left of their destination stopped them, and Ellie curiously opened the door to reveal - Josephine! This must be her office! - Josephine arguing with a nobleman in a mask.

“The inquisition cannot remain, Ambassador,” the nobleman was insisting in an accent that neither elf recognized, “if you can’t prove it was founded on Justinia’s orders.”

“This is an inopportune time, Marquis,” Josephine was saying firmly but patiently. Her voice was like a soothing balm to Mahanon’s internal floundering. Even if she wasn’t even addressing him, turning to face his sister instead. “More of the faithful flock here each day. But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked her life to slow the magic of the Breach. Mistress Lavellan, this is the Marquis DuRellion, one of Divine Justinia’s greatest supporters-”

“And the rightful owner of Haven!” The Marquis interrupted, making Mahanon scowl. “House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This ‘Inquisition’ is not a beneficiary of this arrangement.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of Haven having an owner outside the Chantry,” Ellie drawled with a raised eyebrow.

“My wife, Lady Machon of Denerim, has claim to Haven by ancient treaty with the monarchs of Ferelden. We were honored to lend its use to Divine Justinia. She is a… she was a woman of supreme merit. I will not let an upstart Order remain on her holy grounds!”

Just as both Josephine and Mahanon were about to intervene, the Marquis having gotten much too close to Ellie in his ravings, Ellie spoke like the crack from a whip.

“Interesting, considering the Inquisition was begun by both the left and right hands of the Divine.”

“I see no written records from Sister Leliana or Seeker Pentaghast that Justinia approved the Inquisition!”

Mahanon saw the wink Josephine threw at him and his sister while the Marquis wasn’t looking.

“If he won’t take her at her word, I’m afraid Seeker Pentaghast must challenge him to a duel.”

“What?” The Marquis’s tone was laced with instant regret.

“It is a matter of honor among the Nevarrans. Shall I arrange the bout for tonight?” She brought her quill to her clipboard as if to make note of the event -

“No! No. Perhaps my reaction to the Inquisition’s presence was somewhat… hasty,” the Marquis sighed in defeat.

“We face a dark time, Your Grace. Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they might seem.”

She certainly has a way with words.

After a moment, the Marquis spoke again. “I’ll think on it, Lady Montilyet. The Inquisition might stay in the meanwhile.”

With that, the Marquis left in quite a hurry, leaving the elves alone with Josephine.

“Does he actually have a claim on this place?” Mahanon asked softly, looking at the door.

“His Grace’s position is not so strong as he presents it. Despite their Fereldan relations, the DuRellions are Orlesian. If the Marquis wishes to claim Haven, Empress Celene must negotiate with Ferelden on his behalf. Her current concerns are a bit larger than minor property disputes.”

“So that’s what the accent was…” he muttered to himself, causing Josephine to give a small tinkling laugh, which had him turning to look at her smile.

Aspen, I swear you’re laughing at me from the Beyond. Why is she so beautiful and smart?

“We apologize for the intrusion,” Ellie said regretfully. “We didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”

Josephine waved a hand dismissively. “You did little harm. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come.”

“You expect more people in Haven, Lady Montilyet?” Mahanon surprised himself as well as his sister with his question, as well as the manners used.

“Undoubtedly,” Josephine answered, unruffled. “And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart.” She moved to sit at the large desk behind her. “An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible.”

“May I ask what brought you to the Inquisition?”

Mahanon could kiss his sister. Asking the question he wanted to ask before he could muck it up and cause some noble scandal that he wouldn’t even understand.

“Sister Leliana approached me. We’ve been acquainted for quite some time. For better or worse, being the Inquisition’s diplomat has become as interesting as she promised. For some years, I was the royally appointed court ambassador from Antiva to Orlais.” Oh I have no chance at all, she must already be seeing some noble from one or even both countries. “The nobility of Thedas is a rather singular sphere. Those I’m not acquainted with, I know through reputation.”

“We’re glad for your help,” Ellana said cheerfully. “I have a feeling the Inquisition’s going to need it.”

“I do believe you are correct. Thedas’s politics have become… agitated as of late. I hope to guide us down smoother paths. But, please excuse me. I’ve much work to do before the day is done.”

“Of course. Good day, Ambassador.”

Ellie turned and almost had to drag her brother out of Josephine’s office, though he could swear he heard the ambassador giggle again as the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

“I think you need practice dummies made of sturdier stuff,” Mahanon commented, watching Cassandra hack one up.

“That would be nice,” the Seeker grunted.

“Like maybe iron.”

She merely huffed and turned away. “Did I do the right thing?” He walked to the other side of her, and watched as she resumed her destruction of the training dummy. “What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I have revered my whole life. One day they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool. And they may be right.”

“What does your faith tell you, Seeker?”

“I believe your sister is innocent. I believe more is going on here than we can see. And I believe no one else cares to do anything about it. They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot. But is this the Maker’s will? I can only guess.”

“So you don’t think Ellie is the ‘Herald of Andraste’?”

“I think she was sent to help us. I hope she was. But the Maker’s help takes many forms. Sometimes it is difficult to discern who it truly benefits, or how.”

“What will happen now?”

“Now, we deal with the Chantry’s panic over Ellana before they do even more harm. Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can. After that, we find out who is responsible for this chaos, and we end them. And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I pay them. I only pray the price is not too high.”

“You didn’t really have a choice when you started this,” Mahanon offered, uncertain how to comfort the Seeker. Comforting people wasn’t something he was good at. Except with his sister but that was different.

“Didn’t I?” Cassandra responded blandly, then gave the dummy another two good whacks before dropping her blade. “My trainers always said ‘Cassandra, you are too brash! You must think before you act.’ I see what must be done and I do it! I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged Ellana in the beginning did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again.”

“It wasn’t like you had no reason to suspect her, my sister is a magnet for trouble.”

Cassandra smiled softly, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I was determined to have someone answer for what happened. Anyone.” She turned and began to walk away, as if done with the conversation, but stopped to look back at him. “You’ve both said you don’t believe she’s chosen. Does that mean… you also don’t believe in the Maker?”

“We’re Dalish, Seeker. We believe in our own gods,” he answered, baffled.

“And there’s no room among your gods for one more? I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I have to believe we were put on this path for a reason, even if you do not. Now it simply remains to see where it leads us.”

“Nonny!”

Mahanon and Cassandra both whipped around to see Ellie sprinting down the steps towards them, waving a paper in her hand wildly.

“Nonny, Keeper Deshanna wrote to the Inquisition asking about us!”

“Let me see!”

Cassandra slipped away, forgotten as Ellie read the letter aloud.

”Clan Lavellan offers greetings to the Inquisition and wishes it well in sealing the Breach that has opened in the sky. While some Dalish clans hate humans and wish nothing to do with them, Clan Lavellan has always dealt fairly with all and wished only for peace. That said, we have on occasion been forced to defend ourselves from those who saw us only as potential victims.

It has come to our attention that two members of our clan, my own apprentice and her brother, are being held captive by your Inquisition. They went to the Conclave only to observe the peace talks between your mages and templars, and we find it highly unlikely that either of them would intentionally violate your customs. If they have been charged with a crime, we would appreciate hearing of it. If not, it would ease our concerns to hear from them to know that they remain with the Inquisition of their own will.

We await your reply,
Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan”

“How do we reply?” Mahanon asked immediately after she finished.

“Leliana has already offered to send our letters back,” Ellie answered easily. “I can dictate for you, don’t worry.”

“Ma serannas. Let’s hurry.”

“We’re also sending supplies at Josephine’s suggestion, and Leliana agreed it was a good idea, so the clan knows the Inquisition has peaceful intentions. We don’t want a misunderstanding to lead to a bloodbath,” his sister explained as they hurried to their cabin.

Mahanon’s letter mostly consisted of complaining about the situation, how his ‘fool sister’ (“Rude!”) insisted on staying to help and thus he refused to leave her alone with all these strange people. His reading and writing wasn’t the best so Ellie’s letter was the one with the grand explanation of the mark on her hand and the hero worship she received from the people of Haven. As soon as they were satisfied with their letters they rushed to the war room, Ellie apologizing for both of them as they pressed past people in the village. Luckily the leaders were already there, including Cassandra.

“Ah, we were about to send for your return,” Leliana greeted.

“I have our replies to our clan right here.” Ellie handed them to the spymaster immediately, who tucked them in her shirt.

“I will send them with my people with all haste, Herald. For now, we have an urgent matter to discuss.”

“Having Lady Ellana address the clerics is not such a terrible idea,” Josephine began as Mahanon leaned back against the doorframe.

“You can’t be serious,” Cullen scoffed.

“Mother Giselle isn’t wrong: at the moment, the Chantry’s only strength is that they are united in opinion.”

“And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?” Leliana questioned.

“Let’s ask her.”

“I’m more worried this won’t actually solve any of our problems,” Ellie supplied when everyone had turned to her.

“I agree,” Cullen added as Cassandra moved to stand next to Ellie. “It just lends credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says.”

“I will go with her,” Cassandra volunteered. “Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them.”

“But why?” Leliana demanded with a frown. “This is nothing but a-”

“What choice do we have, Leliana?” Cassandra huffed, clearly tired of arguing. “Right now we can’t approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to all the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through.”

———

“I hate boats,” Varric grumbled as they exited the ferry onto the docks of Val Royeaux.

“That makes two of us,” Nonny agreed gruffly from his usual spot on Ellana’s right.

“At least neither of you vomited. Now come on,” she motioned for the group to follow her into the city.

Neither Ellana or her brother had ever been to Orlais, let alone the capital, so the architecture blew them away. Ivory spires and golden lions and walkways among silk canopies high above them threatened to overwhelm the elves, Nonny more than Ellana. She gripped her brothers arm and squeezed twice, reminding him she was close by.

“The city still mourns,” Cassandra commented as the group approached the bazaar and a pair of nobles laid eyes on their group, retreating in fear.

“Just a guess, Seeker, but i think they all know who we are,” Varric quipped.

“Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric.”

An Inquisition scout emerged from the shadows as the group entered the gates.

“My lady Herald!” the scout knelt.

“You’re one of Leliana’s people. What have you found?” Cassandra questioned urgently.

“The Chantry mothers await you, but so do a great many templars.”

“There are templars here?”

“People seem to think the templars will protect them from… from the Inquisition. They’re gathering on the other side of the market. I think that’s where the templars intend to meet you.”

“They wish to protect the people, from us?” The Seeker sounded flabbergasted.

“You think the order’s returned to the fold, maybe?” Varric suggested. “To deal with us upstarts?”

“I know Lord Seeker Lucius. I can’t imagine him coming to the Chantry’s defense, not after all that’s occurred.”

“So the potential for trouble has increased twofold,” Ellana sighed.

“Perhaps,” Cassandra grunted, then addressed the scout. “Return to Haven. Someone will need to inform them if we are… delayed.”

“As you say, my lady.”

There was already a crowd forming around the temporary platform the mothers had placed opposite the gates. It wasn’t hard to guage the feelings of the people gathered.

“The templars will help us, as they always have. We’ve no need for an Inquisition.”

“I cannot possibly sell anything right now, not with so much uncertainty. No, nono.”

“The Inquisition? We don’t require that sort of thing in Val Royeaux.”

“Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!” Called a revered mother from the platform. “Together, we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery! You wonder what will become of her murderer? Well, wonder no more!” All eyes fell on Ellana as she led the group through the crowd, which parted for her as if she were a leper. “Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell. We say this is a false prophet! The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need!”

“I have denied such claims from the beginning!” Ellana called over the thrum of the crowd, which quieted as she spoke. “I wasn’t sent by Andraste, or by your Maker! I am simply trying to close the Breach. It threatens us all!”

“It’s true!” Cassandra added. “The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”

“It is already too late!” The mother raised a hand and from the right came a group of templars, led by an important looking older man in similar heraldry as Cassandra. “The templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this ‘Inquisition,’ and the people will be safe once more!”

“That is Lord Seeker Lucius,” Cassandra whispered to the group, right before one of the templars struck the revered mother in the face, sending her to the floor.

The crowd was confused and the Lord Seeker called for calm, from the crowd and from another of his subordinates. Ellana had to hold back Nonny with a hand on his chest.

“Still yourself! She is beneath us,” he called calmly.

“Was that display supposed to impress me?” Ellana asked angrily.

“On the contrary, it wasn’t for you at all,” Lucius responded, sounding almost bored as he crossed the platform and stepped off to the other side, clearly dismissing her.

“Lord Seeker Lucius, it’s imperative that we speak with-” Cassandra began as the group followed him.

“You will not address me.”

“Lord Seeker?”

“Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet. You should be ashamed. You should all be ashamed! The templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages! You are the ones who have failed! You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear! If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine.”

Well, the Lord Seeker is cracked, maybe I can convince his men to leave him.

“Templars, one of your own commands the Inquisition’s forces. Join us, as he did!”

“You’re a mage!” Lucius snarled. “Your ties are worthless. They’re all made traitors just by being in your company!”

The templar who protested earlier hurried forward, looking harried.

“But Lord Seeker… what if she really was sent by the Maker? What if-?”

“You are called to a higher purpose,” snapped the templar that struck the revered mother. “Do not question!”

“I will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the Void. We deserve recognition. Independence! You have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition, less than nothing. Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!”

With that, the Lord Seeker led his group of templars in a march out of the city.

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” Varric muttered from behind Ellana, startling her.

“Has Lord seeker Lucius gone mad?” Cassandra seemed baffled.

“How well do you know him?” Nonny asked.

“He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert’s death. He was always a decent man, never given to ambition and grandstanding. This is very bizarre.”

“Can he be reasoned with?” Ellana probed.

“I hope so. If not him, there are surely others in the Order who don’t feel as he does. Either way, we should first return to Haven and inform the others.”

Just as the group began to walk forward, an arrow dropped and embedded itself in the ground at Ellana’s feet, causing her to jump back in alarm. Nonny immediately drew his bow and scanned the rooftops.

“There,” he said, pointing a long finger at a figure no one else had time to see.

“I doubt any of us can catch them. Is there a message attached to the arrow?” Cassandra removed the scrap of paper and unfurled it, reading aloud. “‘People say you’re special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone. There’s a baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things in the market, the docks, and ‘round the cafe. And maybe you’ll meet him first. Friends of Red Jenny.’”

“Wait here,” Nonny muttered to Ellana, who nodded and watched him disappear into the crowd.

“Where has he gone?” Cassandra asked urgently.

“To find what our ‘friend’ left for us,” Ellana answered with a sigh. “Can’t we ever go anywhere nice without something going belly up? Can I see that letter?”

Cassandra handed over the paper scrap, which was bordered with crude doodles yet the handwriting was long and flowing. It really was just a tiny scrap. Looking closer at the arrow, it was clearly not meant for the archer to ever retrieve it. She’d watched Nonny craft arrows since she was child, she knew what a throwaway looked like.

“Pardon me, but you are the Herald of Andraste, are you not?” Ellana looked up at the messenger from crouching next to the arrow. “I have an invitation for you,” he stated simply, handing her a fancy envelope before walking away.

“I sure am popular today,” she muttered, standing as she opened the note. “‘You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the chateau of Duke Bastien De Ghislain. Yours, Vivienne De Fer, First Enchanter of Montsimmard, Enchanter to the Imperial Court.’ Well, isn't she fancy?”

“Three red handkerchiefs with notes pointing to one location, some noble’s estate here in the capitol,” came Nonny’s voice from the crowd.

“That was fast, Sourpuss,” Varric commented approvingly.

“I don’t make a habit of keeping people waiting,” the archer stated flatly.

“You just missed me getting invited to a noble party,” Ellana informed her brother dryly.

“Tragic, shall we head back to Haven?”

“I think we should go, after that we can go investigate this Red Jenny person.”

“Who’s ‘we’, Ellie?”

She merely smiled at her brother, who scowled.

———

“Just think, you’ll have something nice to wear if you ever go to another of these with Josephine!”

“Why would I care to look nice for a shem,” Mahanon snapped defensively.

“Please, Nonny, you’re not subtle,” Ellie scoffed. “The way you look at her, like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time? I’m surprised you didn’t ask for her hand the moment you saw her.”

“That was one time! Will you never let that go?”

“Pffft, nope. Now will you please wear the suit? We made sure it was simple, so you won’t get stuck or anything…”

He just glared at his sister as she held up the suit in question. The trousers were brown with a forest green doublet and a cream undershirt. She didn’t seem to have any shoes which was fine with him.

“Can I still wear my foot wraps?”

“Those ones are fairly new so I see no issue, I’ll be wearing mine under my dress.”

“You got a dress?”

“I absolutely did!”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

They changed on the ferry the Inquisition sent them on and Mahanon had to admit his sister looked lovely in a form fitting dress that matched his suit, minus the brown. Forest green velvet with cream lace accents. That was the extent of his fashion knowledge but she looked nice. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

“I knew that would look nice on you! Now come on, Cassandra and the others will be waiting outside when we’re done meeting the First Enchanter.”

They had been stopped again from leaving the market hours earlier by the leader of the mage rebellion, an elf named Fiona who invited them to meet the mages at Redcliffe village. Yet another thing for his sister to do and for him to be dragged along with her. He just wanted to rest for a while when they got back to Haven, it felt like they’d been going nonstop since meeting Giselle.

Varric had arranged for a carriage to take them to the chateau, driven by a flatear. Mahanon did his best to ignore him, while Ellie thanked him for his time. More flatears escorted them to the main hall where a human waited to announce them.

“Lady Ellana Lavellan, on behalf of the Inquisition. And escorting her, Lord Mahanon Lavellan.”

Mahanon scowled at being called ‘lord’ but remained silent as Ellie gawked at the architecture. The elves were soon approached by a couple in masks.

“What a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” greeted the man, though Mahanon could barely make it out through the accent. “Seeing the same faces at every event becomes so tiresome. So you must be a guest of Madame De Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?”

“Are you here on business?” the woman questioned eagerly before Ellie had a chance to respond to the man. “I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true!”

“What exactly have you heard about me?” Ellie asked cautiously.

“Some say that when the Veil opened, Andraste herself delivered you from the Fade.”

Mahanon snorted and Ellie shot him a glare.

“I’d say those tales are… exaggerated, my lady.”

“But only for the best effect. The Inquisition should attend more of these parties.”

“The Inquisition? What a load of pig shit!” A rude voice came from a staircase on the right where another masked noble was sneering at Ellie. “Washed up sisters and crazed Seekers? No one can take them seriously.” The newcomer circled the two elves for a moment, making Mahanon finger the dagger in his pocket in anticipation. “Everyone knows it’s just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power.”

“The Inquisition is working to restore peace and order to Thedas. Obviously you’re too thick to realize that,” Ellie replied coldly, causing the nearby nobles to titter.

“Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army!” The man snarled, then stepped closer to Ellie, aggression in every movement. “We know what your ‘Inquisition’ truly is. If you were a woman of honor, you’d step outside and answer the charges.”

As the noble reached for his weapon, Mahanon grabbed Ellie’s arm and pulled her back. This was rendered unnecessary by the noble suddenly being frozen by a thin layer of ice.

“My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in my house to my guests,” came a smooth feminine voice from the opposite staircase.

A masked mage in many frilled silks descended the grand staircase, watching the little group as she walked. When she spoke again at the landing, her words held a tangible sense of grace and importance.

“You know such rudeness is… intolerable.”

“Madame Vivienne! I humbly beg your pardon!” The offending noble stammered, likely from the cold as well as nerves.

“You should,” said ‘Vivienne’ in a cold yet still gentle voice, standing between him and the elves. “Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?” She turned to face Ellie and Mahanon. “My lady, you’re the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?”

“The Marquis holds no interest for me, do whatever you like with him,” Ellie replied coolly.

Vivienne seemed pleased despite not smiling, but turned back to the offending noble.

“Poor Marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan dog lord,” she practically sneers, unfreezing him with a snap of her fingers and leaving him in a hunched over coughing fit. “And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange’s doublet. Didn’t she give you that to wear to the grand tourney? To think, all the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning… and you’re still here. Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel? Or did you think her guardian’s blade could put an end to the misery of your failure?” The marquis lowered his gaze to the floor, shamed. “Run along, my dear. Do give my regards to your aunt.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Ellie spoke up as the Marquis left in a hurry, patting her brother’s hand on her arm to release her.

“I’m delighted you could attend this little gathering. I’ve so wanted to meet you.”

Mahanon stayed close behind his sister, watching everyone the trio passed as Vivienne led them to a private window.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” she murmured in her strange accent. “I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court.”

“A pleasure,” Ellie replied with a polite nod. “I am Ellana, Second of Clan Lavellan, and this is my brother and guard, Mahanon. Is that marquis going to cause issues?”

“His aunt is the vicomtesse of Mont-de-Glacé. Not a powerful family but well-respected… and very devout. Alphonse will be disowned for this. It's not the first time he’s brought his aunt disgrace, but I'm sure it will be the last. And after such a public humiliation, I expect he’ll run off to the Dales to join the empress’s war effort. Either to make a good end or to win back a modicum of self-respect.”

“Well, your salon certainly exceeded my expectations thus far.” Mahanon recognized his sister's tone as the one she reserved for a human she did not want to offend - making herself sound as civilized as possible.

“I’m glad to keep you entertained, my dear. I wanted to meet face to face. It is important to consider one’s connections carefully.”

The archer’s eye was caught by a pair of nobles further down the hall, staring at the trio and tittering to each other behind gaudy fans. He let his gaze bore into their ridiculous masks until they scurried out of sight. Vivienne was still focused on his sister, as if she had decided he was unworthy of her attention as a mere ‘guard’.

“-as the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause.”

“The last loyal mages?” Ellie’s brow raised slightly. “Loyal to whom?”

“To the people of Thedas, of course.” Vivienne smiled as if this were obvious. It made his skin crawl. “We have not forgotten the commandment, as some have, that magic exists to serve man. I support any effort to restore such order.”

“So you’re in favor of returning the mages to the Circle, then?” Ellie frowned slightly, only for a moment, but he was sure Vivienne had seen it.

“Where else can mages safely learn to master their talents? We need an institution to protect and nurture magic. Maker knows, magic will find neither on its own.”

Ellie glanced at Mahanon, briefly matching his uncertain expression, then addressed the Enchanter again. “What can you do for the Inquisition, exactly?”

“I am well versed in the politics of the Orlesian Empire. I know every member of the Imperial Court personally.” The human declared this as if it was meant to impress them. He couldn’t give less of a damn and neither could his sister, he’d bet. But… he had a feeling Josephine would greatly benefit from recruiting this woman. “And I am a mage of no small talent. Will that do?”

Ellie fell silent, a small crease in her brow the only hint of the cogs turning in her mind. “What do you stand to gain from this?”

“The same thing anyone gets from fighting this chaos: the chance to meet my enemy, to decide my fate. I won’t wait quietly for destruction.”

Ellie looked to Mahanon, as if asking his opinion. He sighed, then jerked his head in a Might as well sort of fashion. She nodded.

“The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne.”

The delighted look on the Enchanter’s face sent a shiver down his spine.

———

Ellana felt the incoming spell and ducked to the side to narrowly miss a fireball to the head. Instead, it hit the frame of the gate, sparks showering on her party.

“Herald of Andraste!” Ugh, not another noble mage with a ridiculous accent. This one is openly trying to kill me at least, instead of pretending to be friendly and probing at my wards. That Vivienne is in for a rude awakening if we ever spar. “-how much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!”

“I have no idea who you are.” What little she could see of the noble’s face behind his mask scrunched up in anger.

“You don’t fool me! I’m too important for this to be an accident!” He drew himself up in a melodramatic stance, sneering down his nose at her. She heard Nonny’s drawstring creak behind her. “My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere!”

Just as he took a breath to continue his rambling, the sound of a loosed arrow followed by the only remaining guard present dropping to the floor. Everyone turned to see an elven girl with a truly terrible haircut aiming her next arrow at the noble.

“Just say ‘What!’” she called.

“What is the-” Thunk.

“Eugh!” The girl approached the group as she lowered her bow, Nonny following suit. “Squishy one, but you heard me, right? Just say ‘What!’ Rich tits always try for more than they deserve.” She leaned down to retrieve her arrow with a sickening squelch. Her accent was clearly Fereldan, though she took on a mocking tone. “‘Blah, blah, blah! Obey me! Arrow in my face!’” She huffed as she finally turned to look at Ellana properly (who was thoroughly confused, a sentiment shared by her companions, though Nonny snorted at the mocking). “So, you followed the notes well enough. Glad to see you’re… aaaaand, you’re an elf.” The Second blinked in surprise. “Well, hope you’re not ‘too elfy’. I mean it’s all good, innit? The important thing is: you glow? You’re the Herald thingy?”

Her short jagged hair was a pale blonde, and she was taller than Ellana by several inches. Curious blue eyes locked onto the mage, full of excitement. Her light skin had a soft dusting of freckles, nearly unnoticeable in the pale moonlight.

“Some people think I’m the Herald of Andraste, despite my constant protests,” Ellana sighed. “Just call me Ellana. But who are you? And what’s going on here?”

“No idea, I don’t know this idiot from manners. My people just said the Inquisition should have a look at him.”

“Your people? Elves?” Nonny probed from beside his sister.

“Ha! No. People people. Name’s Sera. This is cover,” she gestured to the crates around the courtyard. “Get round it. For the reinforcements. Don’t worry. Someone tipped me their equipment shed. They’ve got no breeches.”

Ellana and Varric both let out short laughs before the reinforcements truly did arrive, with no breaches on any of them.

“Why didn’t you take their weapons?” Nonny shouted over the ensuing chaos.

“Because no breeches!” Sera cackled maniacally.

Ellana quickly cast a barrier over herself and the nearest allies, namely Varric and Nonny, before joining Cassandra at the fore. Solas skillfully flung ice spells and manipulated the Veil around them, causing Sera to flip away from him with a string of curses. Ellana dodged a shield bash, swinging her flaming sword in an arc over her head before bringing it down on her target and cutting through their shoulder like butter, leaving them a screaming bleeding mess. Varric sent a bolt into their throat, and silence filled the courtyard.

“Friends really came through with that tip. No breeches!” Sera laughed breathlessly. “So, Herald of Andraste. You’re a strange one. I’d like to join.”

“Could we take a few minutes for sense to reassert itself?” Nonny huffed. “Who are you people?”

“And the resemblance to Broody continues to grow…” came a mutter from Varric.

“I’m not ‘people’, but I get what you want. It’s like this. I sent you a note to look for hidden stuff left by my friends. The Friends of Red Jenny. That’s me. Well, I’m one. So is a fence in Montfort, some woman in Kirkwall. There were three in Starkhaven. Brothers or something. It’s just a name, yeah? It lets little people, ‘Friends’, be part of something while they stick it to nobles they hate. So here, in your face, I’m Sera. “The Friends of Red Jenny” are sort of out there. I used them to help you. Plus arrows.”

“The Inquisition has spies already,” Ellana said swiftly. “Can you add to their numbers?”

“Here’s how it is.” Sera’s hands flapped wildly as she rambled. “You ‘important’ people are up here, shovin’ your cods around. ‘Blah, blah, I’ll crush you. I’ll crush you!” She devolved into kissing noises. “‘Oh, crush you.’ Ahem.” Ellana felt her face turning red from trying not to laugh. “Then you've got cloaks and spy-kings. Like this tit. Or was he one of the little knives, all serious with his… little knife.”

That was it. Ellana couldn’t help but giggle at Sera’s antics. The spy smiled, as if pleased she got the Herald to crack.

“All those secrets, and what gave him up? Some houseboy who don’t know shite, but knows a bad person when he sees one. So no, I’m not Knifey Shivdark, all hidden. But if you don’t listen down here too, you risk your breeches. Like those guards? I stole their… Look, do you need people or not? I want to get everything back to normal. Like you?”

“Why ask if I glow? That’s what I’m most confused about.”

“That’s what you do, innit? You walked out of somewhere and now you glow. Andraste’s Herald. True or not, it seemed like the easiest way to know it was you.”

“True or not?” The Second chuckled.

“Well that’s what they say and all. Look, don’t get ahead, yeah? I want to help this… whatever it is. Inquisition.”

“Alright, Sera. We can use you and your ‘Friends’.”

Sera’s face lit up. “Yes! Get in good before you’re too big to like. That’ll keep your breeches where they should be. Plus extra breeches, cause i have all these.. You have merchants who buy that pish, yeah? Got to be worth something. Anyway, Haven. See you there, Herald. This will be grand.”

Chapter Text

“You there! There’s a shield in your hand, block with it! If this man were your enemy, you’d be dead.”

Cullen was supervising the recruits training outside the village when Ellana’s group arrived back at Haven. Nonny had left straight for their cabin for a well-earned nap, Varric wandered away to… do whatever he does, I suppose. Cassandra headed towards the lake and Solas- Where did Solas go?

“Lieutenant, don’t hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one,” Cullen was instructing one of his men with utmost seriousness.

“Yes, Commander!”

The mage found herself walking over to the former templar, curious. When he caught sight of her, he nodded in acknowledgement and looked back at his trainees.

“We’ve received a number of recruits - locals from Haven and some pilgrims,” Cullen informed her when she was close enough to hear. “None made quite the entrance you did.”

Is he smirking at me? “How else was I supposed to get everyone’s attention?” She grinned back.

“How indeed.” He began to walk through the crowd of sparring soldiers and she scrambled to keep up. “I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself. I was there during the mage uprising - I saw firsthand the devastation it caused.” He stopped walking to accept a report from a runner. “Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse.”

She let him read for a moment, contemplating his words.

“You left the templars for this,” she mused. “Do you think the Inquisition will succeed?”

“I do,” he answered without hesitation. “The Chantry lost control of both templars and mages. Now they fight over a new Divine while the Breach remains.” He passed the report back to the runner, who took off. “The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There’s so much we can-” He cut himself off with a chuckle. “Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

“You’ve obviously given this plenty of thought,” she smiled.

“I know what happens when order is lost and action comes too late,” he replied seriously, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s still a lot of work ahead.”

“Commander!” Another runner rushed up to them. “Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines.”

“As I was saying…” Cullen mused as he turned away from her.

Ellana took that as her cue to leave him to his work and went in search of food. The tavern was usually her safest bet with Chantry rabbit, which was the closest she figured they would ever get to a Dalish coney roast. She had barely sat down in a quiet corner with her stew, bread and cheese when the seat across from her was suddenly occupied.

“So, this is it, huh?” Ellana blinked at Sera, baffled by the speed of her arrival. “Oh no, it’s fine, yeah? It’s just, I thought it’d be bigger. Pffft, that would’ve been hilarious if you were a man, right? Wasted.”

The mage couldn’t help but giggle again at the rogue’s antics, earning another crooked smile from the blonde.

“Anyway, stopping wars should earn more sovereigns than this,” the archer continued. “Need things back to normal for coin to be flowing again. Another reason the templars and mages need to be sat down.”

“I don’t know, Sera, the Conclave pretty much proved it’s not that easy.” The mage picked at her bread and cheese, not wanting to be rude but also being hungrier than she first thought.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not?”

“Why? Because someone yelled it real loud? Make them prove it. They’re too busy to look up where the real questions are.”

“Here’s a real question for you: do you care if I eat? I’m really hungry.”

“Why should I care? Eat!”

She gratefully took a large bite of Chantry stew, grimacing at the overcooked rabbit.

“So is there something else you’re looking for? Like the cause behind all of this?”

Sera reached across the table and swiped a small chunk of bread off the mage’s plate.

“Maybe. I don’t know. First things first, right? I help you-” she juggles the piece of bread for a moment, “-march-march-arrow-kick - then people stop being stupid, and everything starts to make sense again.” The archer’s voice suddenly took on a more flirty tone. “Sound good to you, all touched Lady Herald?”

“I’m ready to give it a shot,” the redhead sighed. “That’s all I can ask from anyone else.”

“I’m in.” Sera finally popped the bread in her mouth, then immediately started talking around it. “It’s an investment, yeah? Better pay off, too. Stupid war and… everything. I had things to do!”

———

“It’s good you’ve returned,” sighed Josephine. “We heard of your encounter.”

“You heard?” Cassandra huffed. Unfortunately, a typical reaction from the Lady Seeker.

“My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course.” Leliana spoke as though this were obvious.

“It’s a shame the templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital,” Cullen sighed from the spymaster’s other side.

Lady Ellana was closely followed by her brother, as usual of course. Josephine couldn’t help but watch him out of her peripheral vision. The deep scar on his right cheek caught her attention, making her wonder about the story behind it, as it so often did. In Antiva, opportunities to interact with the Dalish were few and far between, especially for a young noble heir like herself. And so, naturally, she was fascinated. Ellana was by far the more friendly of the two, and though Mahanon wasn’t always polite, he was far less rude than many of the dignitaries Josephine met with each day. And the memory of the way he stared at her the first time they met could still make her blush if she thought about it for too long.

“At least now we know how to approach the mages and templars,” the Herald was saying, leading the group towards the war room. “It’s something.”

“Do we?” Cassandra doubted. “Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember.”

“True.” Leliana mused. “He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been… very odd.”

“We must look into it,” Cullen pressed. “I’m certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker.”

“Or Mistress Lavellan could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead,” Josephine proposed thoughtfully, lacing her fingers together. Mahanon glanced at her hands, then away. She repressed a smile.

“You think the mage rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!”

“Or you could stop bickering and make a decision!” Mahanon snapped suddenly, bringing the group to a halt.

“I agree,” Cassandra nodded seriously.

“We shouldn’t discount Redcliffe,” Josephine urged, though she looked directly to the Herald. “The mages may be worth the risk.”

“They are powerful, ambassador, but more desperate than you realize.”

“So it’ll be dangerous,” said Lady Ellana brightly. “I’ve been in danger since I walked out of the Fade.”

“If some among the rebel mages were responsible for what happened at the Conclave…” the Seeker trailed off.

“The same could be said about the templars, Lady Cassandra,” Josephine chided gently.

“True enough,” huffed Cullen. “Right now, I’m not certain we have enough influence to approach the order safely.”

“Then the Inquisition needs agents in more places. That’s something you can help with, Ellana.” Cassandra was firm.

“In the meantime, we should consider other options,” the ambassador sighed. Mahanon’s gaze flickered again, but she did her best to ignore it.

———

That’s got to be the one the Chief was talking about.

Ridiculously long red hair, freckles, green face tattoos, shorter than the average elf. Krem was sure this was the one. And the taller than average elf behind her was the guard that Chief warned him about. But he didn’t come all this way for nothing.

“Excuse me,” he called out, immediately grabbing their attention. “I have a message for the Inquisition, but I’m having a hard time getting anyone to talk to me.”

“Who are you soldier?” The male elf demanded, neither of them getting closer. Check one. Krem stood up straighter.

“Cremisius Aclassi, with the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company. We mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra. We got word of some Tevinter mercenaries gathering out on the Storm Coast. My company commander, Iron Bull, offers the information free of charge. If you’d like to see what the Bull’s Chargers can do for the Inquisition, meet us there and watch us work.”

The Herald and her guard approached, both wearing different versions of the same cautious expression.

“What can the Chargers offer the Inquisition?” she asked. Check two. The most basic question, he’d answered it hundreds of times when selling the company’s services.

“We’re loyal, we’re tough, and we don’t break contracts. Ask around Val Royeaux. We’ve got references.”

“What should I know about your commander?”

And checkmate. Hook, line and sinker. Just like the Chief said.

“Iron Bull? He’s one of those Qunari. The big guys with the horns?” The guard didn’t like that answer but Krem pressed on anyway. “He leads from the front, he pays well, and he’s a lot smarter than the last bastard I worked for. Best of all, he’s professional. We accept contracts with whoever makes the first real offer. You’re the first time he’s gone out of his way to pick a side.”

“Why did your commander send us this information?”

“Iron Bull wants to work for the Inquisition. He thinks you’re doing good work.”

The two elves glance at each other and somehow seem to have a silent conversation all their own.

“We’ll consider your offer,” she finally said.

“I appreciate it. We’re the best you’ll find. Come to the Storm Coast and you can see us in action.”

With that, he put his fist over his heart in salute and left.

There you go, Chief, exactly what you asked.

———

“Alright, let’s get out of sight before someone else decides they need something from you,” Mahanon ground out between clenched teeth.

“Are we hunting rabbit today?”

“Whatever we can find, Ellie, don’t get your hopes up.”

His sister huffed and shook her head with a smile, her loose red locks catching the cold wind. His own chestnut hair was loosely tied in a ponytail, and he wondered how Josephine’s hair looked in the sun. He’d only seen her indoors, except of course that first night on the docks. He sighed, scowling up at the sky as if it were the fault of Elgar’nan himself for keeping the sun away from the subject of his affections, not her duties.

“I would ask what’s wrong but considering we just saw Josephine I think I know exactly what you’re all mopey about.”

He ignored her, opting instead to make his way to their shared cabin to retrieve his hunting gear. Mahanon knew she would follow without having to look back. The mercenary was still making his own way out of the village and the elf watched him carefully. The merc appeared to be Tevinter in origin, though how he wound up working with a Qunari was a baffling concept.

“Oh to be a fly on the wall inside your head, brother…”

Mahanon redoubled his effort of ignoring Ellie. He didn’t like that she had perked up when Cremisius had mentioned that Iron Bull was a Qunari. Her curiosity was a curse on his sanity as her guardian. Aspen, I swear you’re egging her on from the Beyond. You both get much too much pleasure from testing my patience.

“We’re not going to see the Qunari,” he stated flatly as they entered their cabin.

Ellie snorted in disbelief. “Since when are you in charge, Nonny? Cassandra and Cullen would likely want us to go. Besides, aren’t Qunari supposed to be unparalleled in strength and skill? And if he’s a mercenary, he likely doesn’t follow the religion anymore. I think that’s called being tel-vashith? Tal-veshath? I’m not sure, but there’s a term for it.” She rummages through the trunk at the foot of her bed to retrieve a large wicker basket given to her by the tavern keeper, Flissa. “I know why you don't want to go: you’re worried he’ll be stronger than you and you won't be able to do anything if he turns out to be a bad guy.”

“One would think that risk would be enough to dissuade you and yet…” he mutters grumpily, shouldering his bow and quiver, then donning his hunting belt.

“You just don’t like the idea of needing help from anyone besides me and- and Cassandra.” Her words faltered just slightly, but he knew what she intended to say. ‘Besides me and Aspen.’ “And what if he ends up being a valuable asset? The Inquisition is still in its early stages, we need more people.”

He sighed and tuned her out, recognizing that he had lost yet another argument. Why he ever bothers trying to fight her, he’ll never know. He unfortunately didn’t inherit their mother’s gift for persuasion, instead gaining his father’s tendency for brooding. Ellie’s father was more cheerful and suited their mother far better as a partner than his own. Aspen’s father… well only Aspen and mother met him, and from what mother said of him, it was for the best.

“-fish would be nice over some potatoes and-“

“Do you miss mother, Ellie?” He asked suddenly, interrupting her babbling as they walked through the village gate.

“Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking about how you lucked out by inheriting mother’s silver tongue and I got stuck with my father’s temper. Mother wasn’t the type to settle down and never actually bonded with anyone. Not even your father, who suited her so well. So: do you miss her?”

“Of course I miss her, Nonny, she was our mother.”

“But you don’t want to go back to her family. Our clan.”

They had reached the tree line, the crowd of training soldiers a blurred moving shape in the distance. She sighed and slowed to a halt, bare feet shifting uncomfortably in the snow.

“I know you want to go home, lethallin, and so do I. But can’t you feel it in the air? The world is on the brink of change, and you and I can help shape it into something better by staying and helping the Inquisition.”

“Aspen would’ve told you to go home. Leave it to the shems.”

Ellie glared at him with sudden fire in her eyes.

“He would not! Don’t try to use our brother against me because you want to leave. If you’re that against it then go home by yourself!” She was suddenly right in front of him, having Fade-Stepped closer, waving her marked palm in his face. “Did you forget about this? We still don’t know what it is, what it does, how or why I got it, if it will still harm me in the long run. Mahanon, you are my brother and I will always trust you to have my back but you are so stupid! I! Cannot! Leave! And yes! I want to go home! But I CAN’T! Because of this fucking thing! Now are you done being an ass today or should I just turn around and go find someone else to spend the day with?”

Without waiting for him to respond, she stomped past him into the trees. Regret flooded Mahanon’s stomach. Of course she was struggling with everything, too. As much as the hero worship bothered him, it must drive her even more crazy being the actual focus of it.

“Ellie, wait.”

“No, I’m mad at you.”

“And you have every right to be, I was an ass.”

“Yup, you sure were!”

“I was too busy thinking about how much I hate all of this to notice you weren’t having such a great time either.”

He easily catches up to her with his longer legs and snags her wrist to stop her.

“You’re my baby sister. You’re all the family I have left since Aspen… well, can you blame me for wanting us to get to safety when things went to shit?”

“No, but I can blame you for playing the Aspen card when you know his stubborn ass would’ve been convincing you to stay just like I am. I can’t do this without my grumpy asshole brother supporting me.”

She wouldn’t turn to look at him, and Mahanon was carefully studying the imprints their feet had left in the fresh snow. They had never been able to look at each other when having serious conversations.

“I promise to get my head out of my ass moving forward. I may not like it but we’re in this together.”

“Well good, because I’m sure Josephine is more likely to enjoy your company when you’re not being a shithead.”

“Shut up.”

———

“Back so soon, Krem? Did it not go the way we planned?”

“It went just like you said it would, Chief. The brother wasn’t too pleased to hear you’re Qunari but the Herald seemed interested.”

“Good work. Just watch, we’ll see them in a fortnight, no doubt about it. If my information is right, and it always is, she won’t be able to resist coming to meet me.” Krem just smiled as his captain chuckled. “So tell me Krem-de-la-Krem, was she as pretty as they say? Or was it just the Andrastians talking her up?”

“If she turns up like you say she will, you’ll find out for yourself.”

———

“Ah! Lord and Lady Lavellan! A moment of your time, if you’d please!”

Josephine saw the way Mahanon jerked in surprise at being addressed and suppressed a smile. His dark hair seemed to be perpetually falling out of a ponytail, and she couldn’t help but get lost in the way it fell against his striking cheekbones…

“Did you need something, Ambassador?”

Ellana’s question brought her back to reality.

“Yes. Well, not precisely, but–“ she took a short breath to settle herself. “I should like to know if anyone here has treated you unkindly. For being elves.”

The siblings looked at each other. Mahanon’s eyes rolled back in his head and he scoffed softly as Ellana sighed and frowned.

“We can deal with a few whispers and sideways looks,” Ellana answered gently, as if worried she would upset the Ambassador.

Josephine narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue in frustration. “I will speak with the staff regarding such conduct. If we’re to convince the world that Andraste’s Herald is an elf, the Inquisition must give you both its utmost support. Stories of ‘wild Dalish elves’ have grown even more outrageous as people learn of you, my lady.”

“You’re telling me they’re more concerned about my ears than my magic? That’s hard to believe.”

“It depends which way the wind is blowing.” He is giving me that look again. “‘Magic is meant to serve man,’ the Chant teaches. Close the Breach, and we can claim that is why Andraste chose you. Hopefully it will be enough to replace this gossip about the Dalish.”

“What are people saying, exactly?” It always took Josephine by surprise when Mahanon spoke, especially when he spoke directly to her. He had such a pleasant timber, it settled in her chest with a strange emotion she couldn’t name.

“I would prefer not to repeat them, my lord.”

An expression she couldn't place flickered across his face when she called him ‘my lord’ and she couldn’t tell if he hated it or not.

“Give us something, Josephine,” insisted Ellana.

The Ambassador sighed, and relented.

“Stealing children, selling peasants to slavers, burning down villages, using infants for blood magic… those are the stories about your fellow Dalish. I won’t repeat what they’ve said about the two of you.”

She shuddered delicately as one particularly wild rumor came to mind. An incestuous romance between the two elves as an ‘explanation’ for constantly being in each other’s company, as if being two siblings stranded in a strange place were not reason enough to stay together. Ellana seemed amused but just over her shoulder was a truly terrifying look on Mahanon’s handsome features.

“The humans telling those tales are the first to take a knife to someone with pointed ears,” he snapped, words striking like a whip. “Our clan has defended ourselves against them more times than I can count.”

“Really? I… had no idea.” No wonder he has so little trust for humans. “I will do what I can to end the slander. It… may help if I knew more about how you and your clan lived.”

“Getting up before dawn to fish, constantly mending wagons and tents, spending days on the hunt…” Ellana seemed more surprised than Josephine that her brother actually answered the question. “I still can’t believe city dwellers have food delivered straight to their doorsteps.”

“Really? I never considered it extraordinary.”

“The best part was when the aravel – our wagons – turned from the plains to the woods,” Ellana added, her face lighting up as she recalled the memories. “We used to spend weeks exploring the forest!”

“You make it sound idyllic.” Josephine smiled softly, and Mahanon gave her his own small smile. She committed the expression to memory. “Haven is so far from home. You must miss the people of your clan.” The two of them immediately looked tense. “My sincerest apologies if that is a tender subject! Please forgive my rudeness.”

“Don’t apologize, ambassador, you meant no harm,” Ellana assured her. “All our friends are there. Before we came the Conclave, the clan was our entire world. We look forward to seeing them after everything is done.”

“I hope you get the-“

“If I’d never left home, Josephine, I would never have met you,” Mahanon blurted to the floor, face suddenly red. “That would be the greater tragedy.”

“What? I-“

“Excuse me.”

“Nonny, come back!”

But Mahanon had already fled the room, the door closing behind him with a snap. Both women stared at it in silence for a moment before Ellana broke down laughing. Josephine covered her face in her hands to hide the scarlet of her cheeks.

“I just know he didn’t plan that, oh I can’t believe Aspen missed that! Oh! Oh! My belly hurts! Oh Creators, that was priceless!”

Josephine sank into her chair with a small squeak.

“I’m so sorry, Josephine, are you alright?”

“That man does not know the meaning of subtle, does he?” Her voice sounded strange, breathless and just the slightest bit pleased.

“Not at all, I’m afraid. I was just telling Cassandra the other day about how when he was eighteen or nineteen winters old, he laid eyes on the crafting apprentice of another clan during Arlatvhen and immediately asked her to bond with him!” Ellana started laughing all over again and Josephine couldn’t help but join her.

“What do you propose I do, my lady?”

“Well, unless you share his interest, I’d say do your best to pretend what just happened, didn’t. And definitely don’t mention it to the Nightingale, she’d skin him alive.”

The Ambassador sighed. “Mierde.”

Chapter Text

Nonny had refused to acknowledge what he’d said to Josephine since the moment he left her office. And Ellana has no problem with that, she wasn’t about to continue torturing him over this sore spot. That and she was far too busy being excited about meeting this Iron Bull mercenary captain. It had been almost a week and a half since they’d spoken to Cremisius and the group had finally reached the Storm Coast camp. She had brought Viviene, Sera, and Cassandra on this journey. And of course, Nonny. But he was still being a buttmunch, as Aspen would’ve put it. The rain had soaked them to the bone, though nothing could dampen her spirits at the moment.

“Lace! It’s good to see you,” the mage grinned as her group reached the camp atop a cliff.

“And you, Your Worship!” Harding grimaced. “For what it’s worth, welcome to the Storm Coast. I would’ve sent word sooner, but our efforts have been…delayed.”

“How so?”

“There’s a group of bandits operating in the area. They know the terrain, and our small party has had difficulty going up against them. Some of our soldiers went to speak with their leader. Haven’t heard back, though.”

“Of course you haven’t,” came a predictable grumble from Ellana’s right.

“The soldiers didn’t have an exact location for the bandits, but they were starting their search farther down the beach. With all this fuss, we haven’t been able to conduct a proper search for the Wardens, either.” The lead scout sighed, then smiled brightly. “Well, good luck, and enjoy the sea air. I hear it’s good for the soul.”

“Stay warm, Lace. The rain isn’t showing any signs of stopping anytime soon.”

“And you, Ellana.”

The mage led her party down a slope next to a higher cliff-face, eyes and ears straining for some sign of either the Charger’s or the bandits. She didn’t have to search long, as she soon heard combat by the beach.

“I hear fighting, everyone be ready!”

As soon as they rounded the corner they saw the tevinter mercenaries as well as- oh blessed Mythal, he is big. It looked like even Nonny would only reach the qunari’s shoulder, and considering she only came up to his shoulder-

“Ellie! Focus!”

Shaking herself, she cast chain lightning - careful not to hit any of the Chargers - then Fade-Stepped into the fray. Pulling free her spirit blade, she lunged at the nearest tevinter, flaming sword hissing in the rain. The qunari gave a roar that sent goosebumps down her flesh as the vints turned their attention to him and the mage both. Ellana quickly cast a barrier over herself and the Bull as they easily went back to back. He was wielding a battleaxe bigger than her, cutting through the vints like sheep. Her party had finally caught up, which was brought to her attention by Cassandra charging past with her shield up as well as one of Nonny’s arrows whizzing by. A sudden chill alerted her to Vivienne’s own magic joining the fight, the enchanter wielding her own spirit blade of solid ice, leaving her enemies frozen to the core.

Ellana cast Flashfire at a tevinter mage surrounded by warriors, causing them all to erupt into flames and sending them scattering around the beach, leaving trails of fire in the grass. She felt more than heard the qunari’s thunderous laugh as they ran like headless chickens. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his toothy grin under an eyepatch and gave him a wry smile. With no time to take in anything else of his appearance, she spun her fiery sword in an arc before bashing her staff into the head of a passing inferno of an enemy. A cheer rang out along the beach as the fight ended and the Chargers roared in victory.

“Chargers! Stand down!” Iron Bull’s voice carried easily over the din of rain and waves. “Krem! How’d we do?”

“Five or six wounded, chief. No dead,” the lieutenant responded briskly, wiping blood from his lip.

“That’s what I like to hear. Let the throatcutters finish up, then break out the casks.”

Ellana stows her spirit blade and flicks blood off her stave as she turns to finally take in the qunari’s full appearance. She had to take a step back just to not strain her neck looking up at his face. His pale grey skin was littered with scars, the deepest of which were on his face, clearly the cause of his missing left eye. His remaining eye was silver, and fixated on her with great interest. The three deep scars under his eyepatch stretched from his long jaw up to where his forehead met his horns - long black horns like a bulls. Thus the name, she supposed. His hair was shaved close to his scalp and he had a black stubbly beard, interrupted by the scars. His broad chest was bare but for the harness strapping a pauldron to his shoulder. She noted an ankle brace and a knee brace on his left leg, no doubt her brother noticed as well. He wore poofy pants that reminded her of a circus tent, but they looked comfortable.

“So, you’re with the Inquisition, right? Glad you could make it,” he was saying casually. His voice was a deep rumble, gruff but somehow gentle. “Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming.”

“Iron Bull, I presume?” Ellana probed.

“Yeah, the horns usually give it away,” he drawled, then sat leisurely on a nearby boulder. “And you're the ‘Herald’. I’m sure you remember my lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi.”

“Naturally.” She nodded to the tevinter warrior with a polite smile.

“Good to see you again,” Cremisius greeted, then turned to his captain. “Throatcutters are done, Chief.”

“Already? Have ‘em check again. I don’t want any of those tevinter bastards getting away. No offense, Krem,” Bull tacked on with a chuckle.

“None taken,” Krem returned with a small smirk. “At least a bastard knows who his mother was. Puts him one up on you Qunari, right?”

Ellana and Nonny both tensed, watching Iron Bull carefully for his reaction. If he came down hard on the backtalk, there was no way she’d be recruiting him. She knew Nonny would agree. But the qunari just chuckled and turned his attention back to the elves.

“So, you’ve seen us fight,” he began, his body language oozing relaxed confidence. “We’re expensive, but we’re worth it. And I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us.”

“How much will this cost us, exactly?” Ellana asked the question she knew Nonny would want answered first.

“It wouldn’t cost you anything personally, unless you wanna buy drinks later.”

He flashed her a crooked grin she knew would become a weakness of hers if he stuck around. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nonny’s hand twitch toward his dagger, and heard his teeth grind together. If Bull noticed, he didn’t give them any sign as he continued.

“Your ambassador, - what’s her name - Josephine? We’d go through her, and get the payments set up. The gold’ll take care of itself, don’t worry about that. All that matters is we’re worth it.”

“The Chargers certainly seem like a capable company,” Ellana contemplated, keeping her face neutral.

“They are. But you’re not just getting the boys. You’re getting me. You need a front line body guard. I’m your man.”

“She has a bodyguard,” Nonny snapped, a nerve clearly touched.

Iron Bull suddenly stood, walking around to the other side of the two elves in only three steps, towering over them.

“You saw how well your sister and I fought together, I can defend against immediate threats on the battlefield far better than you can from afar with your arrows. Whatever it is - demons, dragons? The bigger the better. There’s one other thing: might be useful, might piss you off. Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?”

Ellana looked to her brother, who shook his head with a deep frown.

“No, we haven’t. Should we have?”

“Not necessarily. It’s a Qunari order. They handle information, loyalty, security, all of it. Spies, basically.” His expression turned reluctant, as if he didn’t want to continue. His eye flickered to Nonny then back to her. “Or, well, we’re spies. The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the Breach. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to those in charge, and send reports on what’s happening.” Nonny opened his mouth to protest but Bull held up a hand to stop him interrupting. “But, I also get reports from Ben-Hassrath agents from all over Orlais. You sign me on, I’ll share them with your people.”

“You’re a Qunari spy and you just told us? What kind of spy are you?” Nonny’s questions were out of his mouth before Ellana could even think to stop him.

“Look, whatever happened at that Conclave thing, it’s bad,” Bull answered seriously. “Someone needs to get that Breach closed. So whatever I am, I’m on your side.”

“You still could’ve hidden what you are,” Nonny insisted stubbornly, ignoring his sister glowering at him.

“From something called ‘the Inquisition’?” The qunari laughed. She liked the sound. “I’d’ve been tipped sooner or later. Better you hear it right up front from me.”

“What would you send home in these reports?” Her brother was apparently set on being the one to question Bull, who finally shifted his attention away from Ellana.

“Enough to keep my superiors happy.” His tone was reassuring. “Nothing that’ll compromise your operations. The Qunari want to know if they need to launch an invasion to stop the whole damned world from falling apart. You let me send word of what you’re doing, it’ll set some minds at ease. That’s good for everyone.”

“And what’s in these Ben-Hassrath reports you’re offering to share?”

Ellana studied Bull’s large build while he focused on her brother, and more importantly, while her brother focused on him. He was bulky, certainly, but had a healthy layer of fat to protect his muscles. She noticed his left hand was missing part of two fingers, his pinky and his ring finger. More of the pinky was missing than the ring finger, and she wondered if he lost both at the same time or not. He suddenly flexed that hand and she realized he had noticed her staring, which caused her to flush. Luckily Nonny hadn’t noticed and Bull didn’t comment or even seem to actually look at her.

“Enemy movements, suspicious activity, intriguing gossip. It’s a bit of everything. Alone, they’re not much. But if your spymaster’s worth a damn, she’ll put ‘em to good use.”

“‘She’?” Ellana probed, tilting her head slightly. He chuckled again.

“I did a little research. Plus, I’ve always had a weakness for redheads.” He said this so casually, one would think he wasn’t directly speaking to a redhead. Her blush spread to her ears.

Nonny huffed and turned to Ellana, who was failing to hide how flustered she was, which only aggravated her brother further. She gave him her best pleading halla look that she could muster and reached out to squeeze his arm. He glared at her in silence for a moment before giving a sigh of defeat, which made her give the brightest smile she’d worn in a long while. Nonny turned back to Bull.

“You run your reports past Leliana before sending them,” the hunter instructed harshly. “You send nothing she doesn’t approve. If this turns out to be a trick, or if your reports compromise the Inquisition, Cassandra will eat you alive.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” the qunari replied cheerfully, then turned to call out to his lieutenant. “Krem! Tell the men to finish drinking on the road. The Chargers just got hired!”

“What about the casks, Chief?” Krem called back, sounding frustrated. “We just opened them up, with axes!”

“Find some way to seal ‘em! You’re tevinter, right? Try blood magic.”

———

The Iron Bull found he couldn't keep his eye off the Herald. Her hair seemed to be quite long, like he had heard, maybe longer but he couldn't tell as most of it was tucked into her armor. And the red color likely looked like fire in the sun, when it wasn't soaking wet from the rain and sticking to her face. Her face. He could call her hot but that just felt like a disservice. Lightly tanned skin and more freckles than any one person should have, - I bet she has freckles in more places than just her face - a heart-shaped face and hooded yellow-green eyes full of questions framed by pale lashes. She had a pear-shaped body, a dainty torso with wide hips and muscled legs. He couldn’t help his toothy grin as he appreciated her ass. The only blemish he could see was a pale scar on her forehead, a line interrupting her tattoos. Her face tattoos marked her as Dalish, he’d have to find out what they mean, her brother’s too.

His eye flickered to the brother for a moment. He had the build of an archer, his unusual height giving him more of an edge than most elves. Slightly darker skin and eyes than the sister, and reddish-brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail. If the Bull had heard correctly from his contact in Haven, his name was Mahanon, and the guy had serious trust issues. But he was fiercely protective of Ellana. The spy noted that the siblings’s tattoos were identical in color, if not in design. Not a useful tidbit at the moment but he tucked it away in a corner of his mind for later.

His gaze drifted back to Ellana. The sword hilt on her belt, more specifically. He couldn’t decide if the fact that she had an enormous sword made almost entirely of magical fire, was attractive or threatening. Probably both, he decided. Of the two siblings, he determined she was the more dangerous one. Purely due to her magical ability, otherwise the win would’ve gone to her brother. He also couldn’t deny that fighting back to back with the Herald was exhilarating. Just remembering the power radiating off of her in that moment was enough to get his blood pumping.

The fact that she found him attractive would make his job significantly easier, as it often did. Manipulation wasn’t his favorite tactic, but he was good at it. The brother would be of minimal consequence, he was sure. At least, once he could take advantage of the archer’s weak point, which his contact had said was a fondness for the Inquisition’s ambassador. Josephine Montilyet. Not surprising, considering the word about her in Orlais. Not a soul ever seemed to have a bad thing to say about her.

Ellana’s group trekked around the Storm Coast looking for a group of Grey Wardens as well as a company of bandits that had apparently killed a band of Inquisition scouts. She had crafted a pendant to challenge the leader of the bandits, the Blades of Hessarian, and thoroughly wiped the floor with the man in one-on-one combat. He stood beside her brother to watch, enjoying the sight of a powerful woman displaying her strength. Yet Mahanon was on the edge of jumping in for most of the fight, the qunari placing a large hand on the young elf’s shoulder to stop him at one point.

The brother vaguely reminded him of Gatt, distrusting and suspicious of everything and everyone. Except his sister, who he seemed to be ready to die to protect. This made the Ben-Hassrsth’s mind tick. The manipulative strings he could pull to control these two seemed to come to him effortlessly. And yet… yet he wanted to learn more about them. About her. How did she become so powerful so young? What was the extent of her power? And why-

She just tripped over absolutely nothing, face planted, and bounced back to her feet like nothing happened. He couldn’t help the belly laugh that erupted from deep in his gut as she wiped the mud off her face, accidentally smearing it in her hair.

“You good, Doll?” He called when he could breathe normally again.

“I'm fine, just a bit dirty,” she answered cheerfully. “It happens all the time!”

“I’d worry about her but I don’t think her brain damage could get any worse,” muttered Mahanon from beside her.

“Aren’t the Dalish supposed to be all majestically graceful and all that pish?” Sera giggled from beside the qunari, while Vivienne just sighed.

Her brother had warned her to watch her footing, and she fell anyway. Judging from the lack of concern from the rest of the group, this was a normal occurrence. Ellana seemed so sure-footed in combat, a force of nature, yet apparently she couldn’t walk in a straight line normally. After studying the last of the Warden camps, she declared they would return to Haven. His contact would be pleased to see him.

———

Mahanon kept one eye on the qunari the whole trip back to camp. Iron Bull had easily become the focus of Ellie’s attention, asking him questions about himself and his crew. The lieutenant was traveling separately with the rest of the company, which the archer supposed was a good sign of trust between Iron Bull and Krem. But Mahanon hated the way Bull looked at his sister. Ellie had no real experience with romance and this enormous man was staring at her like something to eat whenever she couldn’t see.

‘Always had a weakness for redheads,’ my ass. I really don’t like this.

Bull had a natural charisma that worked like a soothing balm to one’s fears and suspicions. But Mahanon wouldn’t fall for it, even if his sister did. She had more trust and sometimes, especially now, that got her into trouble. When the group reached camp, they dried as thoroughly as possible and got some rest. This time, he posted himself just inside Ellie’s tent to watch the qunari sleep on a bedroll under a large tarp. Sera and Cassandra shared their own tent, though he could hear Sera causing trouble through the rain.

If Bull was awake, his fake sleep was quite convincing. Ellie snored softly behind her brother, who took this time to maintain his weapons. Ellie had reminded him they were in camp with Inquisition soldiers constantly on watch, but he paid her no mind. There was no way he could sleep around the qunari, not yet. Cassandra had sent a raven ahead to Cullen, informing him of Iron Bull’s recruitment, the discovery of the Warden camps, and the new allegiance of the Blades of Hessarian to Ellie.

His thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Josephine. What was she doing now? Likely preparing for sleep. He tried not to picture her sitting at a vanity in a long nightgown, brushing out her long hair with some beautiful brush, or washing her lovely face, the water dripping down her neck- he shook his head violently, damp hair smacking him in the face. Disgusted, he forced himself to think about something else, anything else. Iron Bull let out a loud, ungodly snore from across camp then muttered something unintelligible in his sleep.

Mahanon frowned at the qunari’s dark shape through the rain. He had expected his sister to be fascinated but not attracted. It complicated things, more than his attraction to Josephine. Ellie might actually act on the attraction, and a Qunari spy was quite possibly the worst person she could have such feelings for. I swear she’s going to turn me prematurely grey. He sighed heavily and wondered what Aspen would do. For one thing, he likely would’ve attempted to go to the Conclave by himself instead of sending Ellie and Mahanon. The archer smiled, imagining the ensuing argument.

“You think you can just go off on your own, that we’d just let you leave? ‘See you later, hope you don’t die!’”

“Ellie, you’re in line to be Keeper, you need to stay.”

“Excuse you-”

“I’m just a hunter, so there’s no reason I can’t come.”

“Your job is to protect our sister, Nonny.”

“That’s your job too, idiot! Besides, half the time she’s better at protecting herself than either of us ever could.”

Mahanon was jerked out of his thoughts by Scout Harding’s quiet approach. She gives him a smile and a little wave.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked quietly.

“More like I don’t trust the qunari as far as I can throw him.”

“I would pay to see you try to throw him,” she chuckled. “Want some company?”

He hesitated, then looked back at his sister’s sleeping form. It only took a few seconds to hear another soft snore from her bedroll to assure him she was safely dreaming.

“I suppose I could spare some time,” he agreed reluctantly, scooting over to make room.

He almost needn’t have moved at all, the dwarf was so small. She left her boots just outside the tent under a flap of fabric, then leaned back on her arms and sighed softly.

“You look more tired than me, Harding.”

“I lead most of the Inquisitions forward operations, so I have my hands full. But it’s worth it to not only see more of Thedas but to contribute to a good cause.”

“You're not from Orzammar, are you?”

“Oh, goodness no. I was born here on the surface, near Redcliffe.”

“Right, I think I remember you telling Ellie that when we went to meet that cleric, Giselle.”

“That’s right. What about you and the Herald? Where are you two from?”

“Well first of all, she hates being called that. Second…” he glances over at Iron Bull, who seemed to still be sleeping. “We were both born in the wilds of Antiva, and spent most of our childhood there. Until Ellie reached about thirteen years old, then our clan migrated south to the Free Marches.”

“Whoa. Getting to the Conclave must’ve been an adventure all it’s own.”

Mahanon groaned softly. “You have no idea how much I hate boats, Lace.”

“I’m sure,” she grinned. “Personally, I share Varric’s distaste for caves and tunnels. Or anything underground really. Feels too cramped and stuffy, like its hard to breathe.”

“I could see that. So what made you join the Inquisition?”

“Well, my father always said I was the adventurous sort, which to be fair was true. When I heard about the Inquisition forming over in Haven, i thought I could use my tracking skills to help out and see the world.”

“And how’s that going for you so far?”

“So far, I’ve met several Dalish elves, an Imperial Enchanter, a dwarven author from the merchants' guild, the Left and Right hands of the late Divine, and most recently a Qunari spy. I’ve led forward operations in two regions of Ferelden so far and the next looks like a swampland.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Scout Harding.”

“Well, I suppose-”

“Nonny, why are you still awake? It’s the middle of the night- oh, hello Lace,” came Ellie’s groggy voice behind them.

“I’ll rest soon, lethallan. Go back to sleep.” Nonny shushed his sister, patting her foot.

She grumbled incoherently as she laid back down and was asleep again in moments.

“Seems you’ve been sent to bed, sir,” Harding whispered with a small smile.

“Apparently. Good night, Lace.”

———

“A report from Cassandra,” Leliana stated flatly. “Recruitment of the Bull’s Chargers mercenary company was a success, and- ah.”

“What is it?” Josephine prompted. “Go on.”

“The qunari known as ‘Iron Bull’ is a qunari spy, part of the Ben-Hassrath organization. He has offered to share information with the Inquisition - namely myself - and to allow us to screen his own reports back to his superiors.”

“And the Herald accepted the offer, I take it?” Cullen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Do not concern yourself overmuch, Commander,” Leliana assured him. “We can use this to our advantage. Until he becomes no longer useful, of course.”

“You’ve met qunari in Kirkwall, haven’t you?” Josephine asked curiously. “What are they like?”

“I did not personally meet any of the qunari that occupied Kirkwall but during the Blight, a Sten traveled in the Hero of Ferelden’s party with me and several others. He was… a stern man, but had a weakness for sweets.”

“Sweets?”

“Yes.” Leliana gave a small smile as she reminisced. “Cookies in particular. Apparently they had no such things in Par Vollen, though I expect he’s since changed that.”

“How sweet.”

“Pun intended, Lady Josephine?” Cullen interjected.

“Unfortunately not,” she chuckled.

“Cassandra also writes that their investigation into Grey Warden activity on the Storm Coast bore little fruit, and she plans to remind the Herald to seek out the Warden Blackwall when they pass through the Hinterlands on their way back to Haven,” Leliana continued, expression serious once more.

“I didn’t realize you had spoken to Ellana about your suspicion,” Cullen frowned.

“I couldn’t simply let it go, I fear. I asked her to find the only Warden that hasn’t vanished, as I’ve still been unsuccessful at contacting Tamra. She and Alistair were traveling towards the Anderfels, last I heard from them.”

“Let’s hope you hear from your friends soon.”

“Indeed.” Leliana’s eyes flickered to Josephine, who recognized her friend had something to talk to her about. Privately. “Other than the recruitment of the Blades of Hessarian, I believe that is all we have to discuss for the day.”

Cullen nodded and left the war room without another word. Josephine turned to the other woman as soon as he was out of earshot.

“What is it, Lei?”

Leliana walked around the table to close the door before turning back to face the Ambassador.

“You’ve been sulking, Josie.”

“Sulking? I don’t-”

“Don’t be coy, you know what I’m talking about. You’ve been thinking about Mahanon.”

Josephine sputtered and turned bright red, causing Leliana to laugh as she slowly circled the table. She trailed a hand along the tattered map as she sauntered over to her friend.

“Careful, don’t break your quill, Josie. He’s handsome, dark and mysterious, roughly your age. I can see the attraction. But he is a dangerous choice, my friend.”

“I haven’t made any kind of choices like that at all! The man barely speaks to me, I doubt anything will come of this… fascination.”

“Perhaps. I don’t want you getting hurt, however, so I’ll be watching.”

“There’s nothing to watch!”

Leliana simply laughed again before giving Josephine a warm hug.