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Katari was the only one to volunteer for the job. Everyone else had looked at her like she had two heads, even Shokrokar had quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’ll be there as protection for the Divine, not the mages.
No more had to be said. Everyone knew she had a personal stake in the matter, but they also knew better than to bring it up. Once, when Sata-Kas had first joined up, he went on a tangent about mages unbound. Kaariss had tried to shush him but it was too late, Katari had already heard. She marched over and punched him square in the face, breaking his already crooked nose. He was never stupid enough to bring up mages again.
Now Katari finds herself as some sort of religious figure for the humans. It’s almost laughable that anyone could believe Andraste is speaking through her. She spent the first 12 years of her life living under the rigid rules of the Qun. When she finally escaped she had no intentions of joining a new religion with its own set of rules. Tama, the woman she views as her mother, had gone to Chantry masses a few times early on after their escape. She was lost and looking for any sort of guidance. She never found the answers she was looking for and stopped going after a while.
Papa struggles more than she and Katari did outside of the Qun. He’d never really cared to leave. He had already spent nearly 3 decades shackled and silent by that point and couldn’t remember what life was like before the control rod. He’d been the push for Tama to finally leave though.
Tama had been hanging the children’s clothes to dry when she heard a commotion. A saarebas was being lashed by his handler in the middle of town. His handler had the control rod held tightly in one fist and a whip in the other. The saarebas was immobile, folded in half on the ground as the whip cracked across his bare back over and over again. Tama had never liked violence, even when the Qun dictated it necessary. She had watched on, horrified, and when the saarebas’ golden eyes locked on hers her mind was made up. It was only two nights later that she had run, bringing the saarebas and Katari, then only 12, with her.
Katari has no regrets about leaving the Qun. She believes everyone deserves the freedom to make their own decisions, even if those decisions will lead you to the headsman's axe. It’s not a freedom granted under the Qun. And while she loves the freedom she has as a Tal-Vashoth, she still desires routine and structure to her life. She wakes at the same time every morning in Haven, eats the same breakfast, and trains at the same time. Then she meets with the Inquisition leaders.
In particular she likes Cullen. His time with Templars had soured her initial opinion of him, but he’s commanding and takes no nonsense. He reminds her of herself. And he dislikes the nobles nearly as much as she does. Oftentimes she will join him and his troops as they train. He pairs her against them so they can learn to fight an opponent much larger and stronger than they are.
“Herala- I mean, Adaar,” Cullen greets as she joins him by his troops after breakfast one morning. “I finished up the preparations for your departure to Redcliffe. I wish you safe travels and good luck in allying with the mages.”
She’s told him a million times not to call her Herald. She respects his belief in the Maker and she even respects his belief that she’s the Herald of Andraste, but the two of them are colleagues. It’s ridiculous for him to refer to her so formally.
“Thank you, Cullen. I trust you’ll be welcoming to any mages who join us?”
“I’ll admit it makes me nervous to think about them walking around Haven freely, but I respect your decision.”
“Your prejudices are unbecoming, Commander.”
“I’m sorry.” He has the decency to look ashamed, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. They’ve never discussed exactly what he witnessed in his time with the order but she knows he was in Kirkwall. She likes Cullen and prefers not to think of the horrors he may have inflicted on mages. It’s too easy to imagine him branding little Panahedan with the rite of tranquility.
What she does know is that Cullen carries his guilt and trauma with him like a ball and chain. She knows enough to see that eventually he will snap if he doesn’t deal with it. A man who fears mages is a danger to mages, a man who fears his past is a danger to himself. Cullen fears both. It’s not her place to comment on such matters of the heart though. She only hopes Leliana and Josephine are keeping a close eye on him.
Katari eats breakfast with Solas most mornings. They’re both early risers and while he’s arrogant he’s also unbelievably intelligent. His talk of spirits and the fade mostly go over her head, even with two mages in her family. But the good news is that he believes in having a quiet, meditative breakfast. She appreciates his company even if neither of them speak.
“I appreciate your decision to ally with the mages,” Solas tells her the morning before they leave for Redcliffe. “The Qun paints mages in an unfortunate light, I would not be surprised if you still held those same beliefs even after defecting.”
Katari has told no one about Papa and Pan. She’s sure Leliana knows, that woman knows everything there is to know about everyone. But she’d prefer her family’s magic remains a secret. She will trust no one with her sister’s freedom and life.
“The Qun is wrong about many things,” she tells him simply. “Why would their views on magic be any different?”
Solas looks at her curiously for a moment before he admits, “I have not met many Qunari, you are not what I expected.”
“I am Tal-Vashoth,” she tells him. “That makes all the difference.”