Quintisition - AnxiousPanda27 - Dragon Age (2024)

Chapter 1: Pink Years

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It was by the time of her 3rd birthday, when young Lady Rosalind Lucretia Trevelyan noticed that she wasn’t like the rest of her siblings. Not in terms of mischievousness, no, that was absolutely the same as her older brothers, the same amount of headache that her nanny suffered. No, what was different was the voices she suffered from.

They were kind but weird. All of them talked about many things, all the time in her mind. She already learned to keep quiet about them, as when she once spilled the secret to her nanny, she got evaluated as a mage – an effort wasted as the young miss held no magic, something that both of her parents thanked the Maker for. Rosalind, or rather Rosie, as she was called by the voices, was rather disappointed by that outcome. She wanted to awaken flames, like in her dreams of far away lands with a sky that was green, not blue. She wanted to sprinkle some ice, like her oldest brother did once. But then they took him away, something she regretted the most. Only two other brothers remained within the manor with her, Jacob – second oldest who was awful and ‘abusive’ – as the voices called him, and Oleander – a kinder soul, yet he was punished daily by their father, for not being ‘good enough’. Rosie didn’t understand what that meant, yet the voices advised her to not step in. She listened to them, wanting to be a good girl, as well as trusting them. It was like she had magical friends that knew the future. All that was said came true.

On most days it was only two voices.

One that sounded like a woman. She introduced herself as a gallant warrior, one which killed dragons. She was loud and brash but also very funny. She always had the funniest solutions to her problems, like when she helped Rosie prank Jacob with flour in his pillow.

The other sounded like a kind man. He had a deep voice, yet he never yelled. He didn’t call himself anything, but he seemed like a very caring parent, so Rosie called him Uncle. She wished that Uncle was her parent, as her father wasn’t very kind. Uncle also taught her about manners, which spared her many punishments, something she was very grateful for.

Over the passing years Rose got to know the rest of the voices, all helping her throughout her life. She also got to know the dark side of her family, something she feared immensely. She experienced beatings, scoldings… She even had to attend Oleander’s funeral, as he didn’t make it, too weak under her fathers abuse. That night, a new voice helped her. One which hurt Jacob very badly, all for the fact that he dared to laugh at Ollie and insult him. Since that day it didn’t appear again, but Rose felt their presence. She named them Hunter, for they hunted her older brother down and strung him on the floor like a freshly caught prey. All seasons cycled again and again, and with them Rose grew up splendidly, as well as learned many important things, both in terms of skills, as well as something the voices hid before – the future she needs to follow.

They told her of Breach, of Blight and all in between. And Rose listened, knowing that their visions never failed. So when her 16th birthday passed without any fanfare nor party, she gathered her belongings and ran away from home – ready to prepare for what’s needed. She only sent a letter to Ceylon, her brother in the Ostwick Circle, wishing him well and saying farewell, before leaving her home without looking back, her chosen family’s voices helping her along.

Chapter 2: New Beginnings

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The first stop for her was Kirkwall, a city full of sin and punishment, a dangerous place if someone wasn’t prepared. But Rose was prepared immensely, not only that, she needed to be there. To gain resources to help the Quintisition – the name she called the Voices, as with her, there were five of them, all ready to work on now to provide for a better future. To try and ‘break the cycle’ – not that she understood what it meant. You will know when you need it, Kiddo.

When she arrived by the carriage, she already felt hugely out of place, her eyes getting lost on every singular detail of foreign city. It seemed so different from the bright and kind mansion she grew up in. Many people had tattered and dirty clothes, there was a considerable amount of beggars around, even before the official gates to the city, and worst of it, the aura of despair and decay that made Rosalind a bit nauseous, yet she was determined to stay strong. Cover mouth with the minty cloth, it should help.- A voice said, which she did quickly, right before surrendering herself to the check in with the guards. It didn’t take long before it was her turn.

- “Serah got a city pass?” - a dry tone rang out from underneath the rigid steel helmet. With shaking hands she gave him the parchment that she bought from the travel guild. The man inspected it briefly before moving to the side, while handing her a coin type of amulet. - “Citizen’s pass. You lose it, you don’t enter.” - his monotone was making Rosalynd a bit sleepy but she just nodded quickly and entered the city, hopeful of the new beginning. Had she been alone, she would’ve probably been very scared.

Yet that simply wasn’t the case. With all motivation, she decided to look around, firstly to find good enough accommodation.

Lowtown’s good would say, we are strong enough for it. And it will be cheaper.

Absolutely not, Lowtown is dangerous, as well as the fact that Rose still looks like a noble. We will be robbed the moment we try to enter.

Hightown is only for named nobility and merchants. Rosalind has no name to use, unless we want to draw ire of Trevelyans, which isn’t advised.

All options held some kind of risk, but a decision would need to be made, quickly, that was obvious to all of them. Fortunately, Rose remembered about the correspondence she held as Quintisition’s Eye. One of her contacts was from Kirkwall, maybe she could use that to her advantage, she hoped. She started her venture to Hightown, keeping to herself and walking with purpose, something learned from Warrior. She was happy with herself, quite proud even, from all the preparedness. She felt like a proper adult now, ready for her first adventure. She walked around the Gallows, unaware of anything else except her thoughts until she heard a wail of despair, as two Templars dragged a new mage back to the Circle. She froze in fear, past and would be memories meshing with each other, for a moment she even thought they would take her too. But she wasn’t a mage. She was a simple rogue, one that was now pale and wobbly on her knees. She couldn’t move as she saw the mage’s parents, the mother screaming for her son while the father only kept her back, still choking back his emotions. The mage couldn’t be older than 8, a mere child that would be now separated from their family forever.

Knew Red one is the choice. Last thing we need is an Iron Lady keeping this sh*t. f*ck.

We can’t speed the time, nor can we help now. We need resources for that, so we should focus.

The circle isn’t the end. We can still help, just later.

Rosalind felt her knees buckle as she tried to move, the floor approaching her vision at an alarming rate. She instinctively closed her eyes, yet the impact didn’t come. Instead an armored arm grabbed her by her midriff, preventing the fall.

- “Are you alright, messere?” a thick Ferelden accent whispered to her ear as she was brought back to the upright position. When she opened her eyes back up, she was staring into a pair of golden brown irises, belonging to a templar with blonde curly hair. She blinked quickly and moved back, hiding her astonishment.

- “Y-yes, thank you for your help,” she started, hoping internally that she wasn’t blushing. “just got lost in my thoughts I guess.” she giggled, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

- “As one does, but I advise you to be careful, especially in the Gallows, my lady.” he bowed politely and returned to his station, just as she decided to sprint out of there, ashamed and blushing. Somehow, the voices remained silent, even when she tried prodding them for some answers. Because of that, she opened her pack in a quiet corner of the Darktown, pulling out the letter from her associate, hoping that it would help her in some regard at least.

“Flowers,

I don’t know how in the Fade did you get the idea with the powder, but the mining guild is eternally grateful, and in result so am I and my wallet. If you ever find yourself in trouble in Kirkwall, come to the Dwarven Merchant’s Guild and ask for master Tethras, he’s an associate of mine, he will help you, no matter what.

Keep safe,

Storyteller”

She smiled softly at the letter, she liked how Storyteller wrote. No wasteful titles nor any platitudes, just a simple dumb nickname and all necessary information. Though she knew that he could also embellish the stories, if needed. He simply didn’t do it with the Quintisition, as time and information were currencies never to be wasted in those situations.

Right, now she knew what to do, get to the Guild location. Except she didn’t have any idea where this guild would be. As such she looked around herself, taking in the views, as well as all the people around. She was now already in the Hightown, as the sign posted on top of the stairs announced. A logical place for the Merchant’s Guild to be, seeing as it was some sort of a status place. She also knew it was for dwarves, so easiest way to locate it would be to ask a dwarf.

And as her luck would appear once again, she quickly noticed a pair of dwarvs nearby, a son and a father, peddling the merchandise to the interested citizens. They had assortment galore, from bits and bops, through gifts and even battle runes. Rose quickly came up, mesmerized by the choice of things she could buy, at an affordable price apparently, or so she thought, she didn’t exactly have a point of -

-”Enchantment?” the younger dwarf asked, looking at her with big eyes. He seemed there yet not there, somehow close to the way Tranquil looked yet not the same.

-”What is it boy, ah a new customer!” the adult dwarf exclaimed happily, “Don’t worry about the lad, my boy is harmless, just a bit… Different.” he ended awkwardly. “Anyways, what would lady like you need to acquire? I vouch for the quality of my merchandise, you can return the item up to a week if you are unhappy with it, I swear.” he smiled as he ended his spiel.

Rose nodded slightly, her eyes wandering over the inventory when she spotted a beautiful rose brooch, with some runic writing around the base of it. She instinctively took it up, feeling the cold metal on her skin. It was as if the accessory was calling to her.

-“Oh, that’s an excellent choice Serah! That’s a Thorns brooch, only one exists, as it was made by my son. It is inscribed with a thorn rune, to hurt the assailant, had you been attacked, as well as beautiful rubies all around the design, to lure the eyes yet not the hands.” he advertised proficiently, his face all bright and happy. -”Only two sovereigns for it, a bargain, I promise.”

She nodded mindlessly, trying to ask the voices for opinion. They had a supple amount of money, over 1000 of sovereigns after all, yet she wanted to know if it was too impulsive. She shivered a bit, recalling the bad scolding she got from her father for buying a rose from the merchant back when she was 10, because the Trevelyan patriarch disliked nothing more than ‘wasteful spending’, as such she was wo-

Oh stop moping kiddo. f*ck the old man, buy the brooch. You are Rosie, this is a rose, do iiiiit.

While I wouldn’t use the same words as Catherine, I will agree. Everyone should treat themselves once in a while.

Also the protection enchantment can come in useful. Buy the brooch, if you wish.

Rosalind nodded while smiling.

-“Yes I will take it.” - she said kindly and gave the dwarf two golden coins, happy at her first free purchase. She instantly strapped the brooch to her cape, feeling proud. And then she jumped, having remembered her purpose for coming over. - “Oh and if I could ask, where would the Dwarven Merchant’s Guild be stationed? I need to come there and It’s my first time in Kirkwall.” she chuckled a bit.

-”Then welcome in Kirkwall, I hope you have a great stay my Lady,” - The dwarf exclaimed with a smile. -”The guild is stationed there, you need to go there there and there and after that you will be right before it.” he navigated her before she bid the two dwarves goodbye and went on her way, now with new sparkling accessory and more determination than ever. She even forgot about the Gallows incident, or at least mostly. She couldn’t forget the mother’s wail… And the Templar’s eyes. They were truly hypnotizing, so much that she wondered if he wasn’t a Desire demon in disguise, a thought that brought a loud laugh from the Warrior inside, almost a cackle even. It only stopped when Rose arrived by the doors to the guild, and mostly because the rest of the voices shushed her.

Now that the young girl arrived, she was starting to feel stressed. What if it was just a courtesy thing? What if they wouldn’t believe her and didn’t let her meet the Tethras? All kind of worries befell her, all at once, crushing her spirit a bit.

Suddenly a gloved hand touched her arm from the side.

-”You alright kid? You look like you will faint.” - a soft male voice rang out, and when she turned to see, it was a middle aged dwarf with ginger blonde hair, elegant clothes and a big crossbow on his back. He looked at her worried, even if his eyes seemed more inquisitive than normal.

-”Yes messere, I’m fine.. Or I will be soon. Just… Need to gather courage to come in.” she mentioned with a weak smile.

-”Not many humans come to the Dwarven guild, even less of your age. What do you need, maybe I can help you, I am a member after all.” he prodded a bit. The voices warned her of this actions before, yet now they were surprisingly silent. Rose took it as a sign from the heavens that she should trust that man.

-”I am looking for Master Tethras… I am his letter acquaintance, you could say.” she admitted, grabbing the letter tightly in her hand. She noticed how his demeanor changed a bit, to one that is more serious, but it returned in the moment he noticed the letter itself.

-”Ah, then I can definitely help. You’re Flowers, no? - he asked with a slight chuckle when he noticed how she got startled at his quick deduction.

-”How would you know that?” she furrowed her brow, taking a step back.

-”It’s quite simple actually,” he smiled and bowed a bit. “Nice to meet you Flowers, name's Varric Tethras… But you know me as Storyteller, at your service.” he introduced himself with a wide smile before outstretching his hand to her.

She took it and shook it delicately, still in shock. -”F-flowers, nice to meet you mr. Storyteller.” she stuttered out, praising the lucky stars internally. As she let him go, he started leading her away from the guild.

-”Come kid, we will talk in more private spot.” he said softly, as she jogged behind him, now even more curious yet sure of her choice. She was so focused, she didn’t even hear as the voices bickered.

Damn, he really is everywhere. - Warrior remarked

I assure you, it was just a fluke. No one knows who she is. Not mentioning that he’s with the Guild, it was predictable that he would be nearby. - Sage replied bitterly

Maybe, or maybe it was providence. Both work for us. Now let’s just hope it will all work out. We need at least a contact, but temporary alliance would be better. – Poet shushed them both, his voice evident with worry.

Hunter remained silent, as always, just observing.

Chapter 3: A conundrum

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Varric always loved a good mystery, even better if he could use it for his books later. As such, he didn’t hesitate to take Flowers with him to his mansion. The girl already brought him a lot of money with the gunpowder recipe, who knows what she could have for him now.

It wasn’t hard to recognize her, even if he hadn't met her earlier. Of course most of the riddle got solved instantly by the paper, something that made Varric feel like a genius now, even if he felt it was a bit too annoying back then – to use different parchments and stationary for every recipient. Yet it did help this time, very effectively even.

The girl couldn’t be older than 16, that’s for sure. She was of noble background, otherwise her hands wouldn’t be so clean. Also the fact that Bodan finally sold off the Brooch, one which he swore up and down he wouldn’t sell to nobody. Oh, the plot was thickening, writing itself even. A noble girl, on her first adventure, chosen by an enchanted brooch. The nickname was just a cherry on top to it, but he now knew he chose the nickname well. She looked like a rose almost, her hair blood red while her eyes were like two emeralds. She didn’t wear anything extravagant, but that was a good choice, Kirkwall wasn’t Val Royeaux, wearing too rich here would only make you an easy target.

Though her behavior was bizarre. Mixed. Neither natural nor taught. She moved with grace like a noble, yet her steps didn’t make a sound. She didn’t gawk around, kept to herself, more like a rogue. Her eyes only stopped on darker spots in the city, not on the glamorous sights. And her habits. They seemed foreign to herself even. Like if she wanted to copy her teacher in them yet she didn’t have the practice done yet. Despite that, she corrected herself on the fly, something a novice wouldn’t do, while a professional didn’t need to. She didn’t seem like a spy, their movements are better taught, even their false clumsiness is ‘perfect’. This kid was a riddle, one which Varric was eager to solve, or at least write out in his next part of Hard in Hightown, yes. A mysterious client countess, with an older soul reflected in her eyes and habits foreign yet not. Maybe she sees ghosts that help? Or maybe she’s possessed like Blondie would? A food for thought that’s for sure.

Flowers was neither, that was obvious. She didn’t carry the same spark Blondie did, nor did her eyes look glossed over. She also wasn’t a mage, he was pretty sure of that. Hawke and Blondie had the aura around them, something Flowers lacked.

Before long, they arrived at his estate and he brought the kid to his office, ready for negotiation. As they sat down, he started, while signaling a servant to bring some beverages and refreshments.

-”So kiddo… I told you my name, care to give me yours back?” - he tried to break the ice, smiling inwardly when he saw that she huffed a bit for the kiddo.

-”I am not a child, I am a proper adult,” - she sulked for a second before continuing, - “My name is Rosalind… And I don’t have a surname, as I abandoned my family.” - she admitted it easily, even if the dwarf noticed she deflated a bit. Maybe it only now hit her, poor girl. Varric smiled reassuringly and served her some tea that the servant had brought.

-”Make yourself as comfortable as you need, Rosalind. While I never did the same as you did… I also am not exactly on good terms with my family. Or rather a brother, as he’s all that remains. And he is in a Chantry sanctuary, having lost his mind a few years ago. So no judgment from me, that’s for sure.” - he sighed, not wanting to remember the mad eyes of Bartrand as he held that cursed idol. Only the sound of her munching on a cookie brought him out of those memories. She smiled at the sugary taste, looking a bit younger now, more innocent. She tapped a rhythm with one hand, a melody only known in her mind, still it seemed elegant, another proof she was a noble, skilled in musical arts. With her cloak off, he can also see that she is efficiently armed, a short sword now dangling off the chair along with two daggers, all strapped to a leather belt. A professional installation, even if the wearer was a novice. She didn’t carry the same aura as bards, nor was she an assassin. Yet, someone ingrained a lot of habits into her. He felt sorry for the poor girl, she probably didn’t have the loving upbringing then. Though very rarely did any noble had the pleasure of living undisturbed. Most were just political sh*tholes that engaged in ‘blood purity’ all too quickly. From her looks, she seemed to come from either Free Marches or Tevinter. But the lack of gold pointed more to locals. Because they sent their letters through proxies, it wasn’t possible to pin her down earlier, no matter how he tried. Her accent wasn’t of Kirkwall, nor was it of Starkhaven. Ostwick maybe, that would be more probable, he should contact some of his informants just in case one family lost their daughter lately. Someone would spill, for a good coin, that’s for sure.

Suddenly, with a deep sigh, something changed in Rose, that was obvious. While she looked the same, even her posture was different. Previously a bit tense, now she sat like a proper diplomat, her eyes not leaving his, no fear or hesitation in them.

-”I thank you for your hospitality, master Tethras. We thank you, on behalf of the Quintisition.” - she said, her voice firm, with completely different inflection, one closer to one that Qunari would use. Varric tensed, his hand going to a dagger instantly. That was one thing he didn’t suspect, a Qunari spy. Not good. Rose lifted her hand – “While we can speak qunlat, we aren’t a part of them, I swear. The Quintisition works only for itself. Apologies for the scare.” - she lifted her hands in a surrendering gesture, showing she isn’t armed at all.

-”You aren’t the kid… Nor do you look like a spirit, none of that booming voice or glowing eyes in you.” - he murmured, still holding the dagger.

-”No I am not. Call me Poet if you will. I am the diplomatic specialist of our group, as such I wanted to talk first,” - the Poet said calmly, drinking some tea. Their gestures were more refined now, no hesitation in between. - “about our cooperation, if you wish for it. We still have much more intel to be used, in responsible hands of course.” - they continued smoothly, their posture unwavering. Varric was no longer against a fresh kid, this person was someone experienced and as such, very dangerous.

-”I’ll start with easy questions before all of that. First, is the Kid safe? Second, you said we, meaning there are more of you inside of her?” - he started, trying to calm his nerves with some tea. He couldn’t show any weakness, he already acted stupidly by being unprotected, one mistake and he could as well die. But the writer’s part of his mind was reeling with inspiration, the plot twist was great, even if he didn’t exactly feel safe right now.

Poet? Right, one of the letters was from them. The one about contacting the Cartels. It brought a lot of money too. Varric pulled the aforementioned letter out and inspected it. It was written on the same parchment as those from Flowers, but the writing style was completely different, more robust, like a mans. Apparently he was wrong, as it was Rose too. ‘The poet’ smiled kindly at him, nodding their head.

-”Kind questions, it seems we chose well in contacting you. Yes, Rose is safe, the only side effect is that she won’t exactly remember all that is told unless I permit. And because we will be discussing many gritty things, some will be omitted from her memory,” - Poet explained calmly, while sampling the cookies. - “Mmm, those cookies are a delight! As for your second question, all members of the Quintisition are contained in Rosalind. Meaning, there are four of us there, additionally. Although mostly you will be contacted by either me or Warrior, if she gets bored.” - they sighed a bit before continuing. - “It is not a possession. We aren’t spirits in any capacity. What we are is an embodiment of… One could call it Fate. While I can’t explain it in its entirety, Rose will be involved in some important situations, one in which we failed to manage and met our ends. What we are trying to do… Is to stop the cycle, so Rose doesn’t meet the same fate.” - they said plainly.

-”And to do anything, one would need resources, such as contacts or fortune. And you bargain your intel for it, with me.” - Varric concluded.

-”Precisely. The only matter is are you in? But of course we know the rules, nothing is free. This,” - they pulled out an envelope and gave it to the dwarf – “Is a bribe and an incentive to continue our cooperation… Maybe also with some option of housing, if availble, as we plan to stay in Kirkwall for a while.” - the poet explained while Varric quickly looked through the documents. There were three distinctly different pages there. First page depicted the list of qunari spies currently in the city, something no one would even be able to possess. The second page had a recipe for improved blackpowder, as close to qunari’s thing without it being theirs, also a treasure, as well as big risk. Third page was different, it was a report on the guild itself and what they were smuggling. One group, the kalnas, were getting interested in red lyrium apparently, something that sent shivers down Varric’s spine quickly.

- “Well.. sh*t.” - he sighed, tensing a bit. Red lyrium was dangerous, he knew it, but those greedy cast obsessed bastards wouldn’t care. Not mentioning they would probably use Bianca to somehow get his knowledge if other leads come up empty. The spies and blackpowder was definitely convincing, even when they had the Qunari spy undertone written over it, but this… No qunari spy would care for something like it. The whole situation stank like a dead nug left in the sun, but he didn’t get to his position without taking risks. Flowers and Quintisition could be trusted, that’s for sure, their intel was never wrong, from the moment they first exchanged letters, 4 years ago. It was their intel that told them about the thaig, even though there was a warning about not touching the stone. Did they know even then? Most probably, but who would’ve predicted that Bartrand would throw caution to the wind and go wild. Normally, Varric would probably think about it longer, but it was obvious that the kid needed a place to stay. The dwarf pulled out fresh parchment and started drafting up the contract.

- “Alright, I’m in. Though I will pay less, as I will be providing you a home too. Do you need some special accommodation? If not, you can stay in one of the guest rooms here, I don’t mind, nor do I stay here for long, so it should give you enough privacy.” - he started while focused on all the writing, careful to not leave any room for bending rules. - “You get housing, 200 sovereigns a month and a companion, in the form of me and my associates, if needed in your endeavors or vice versa. In exchange, I get your intel, once a week something new, your help with things that are in your or the other members of Quintisition area of expertise as well as a once weekly wicked grace round at Hanged Man, as I prefer to know my associates personally.” - he smiled a bit before continuing - “I will need all of your signatures, it might be under pseudonym, but at least Rose will need to give her full name. As a form of precaution.” - he explained and slid the freshly made contract back to the girl. They looked over it calmly, smiling at the end.

- “We accept your generous proposal Messere.”- that was definitely the poet, who wrote their name delicately on the parchment, then their postures cycled through a bit, before the girl that he brought in was back. She wrote elegantly, even if her hand was trembling.

- “Alright, I think I’m done.” - she whispered and gave the parchment back to him, to look over last time. Five signatures – A simple Hunter written in thin line, An elaborate signature of a Sage with many flourishes, an elegant writing of Poet stood on third spot, Fourth one was a Warrior, written quickly and brashly, almost illegible. Last one was hers, her full name that made the dwarf gasp.

Rosalind Lucretia Trevelyan. Even he heard of this family, stationed all around Free Marches but the main family was living in Ostwick. They had four children, the oldest son was a mage, that was quite a scandal, while the youngest son died from illness, but the gossip said it was because of abuse. Varric didn’t doubt it, he knew the old Trevelyan from meetings with the guild. The man was unpleasant and obnoxious, no surprise he would hurt his own children too. His heir was also already loud in the worst places, from what info was going around in the underground. A brash abusive son of a bitch that solved all of his problems with daddy’s money.

The only enigma of that family was the daughter, one which didn’t even have coming of age ceremony, something they explained happened because of her poor health. Yet she was right now before Varric, sitting completely straight, a perfect picture of a healthy girl, albeit a bit malnourished. He now knew he would stand by this kid, one which got abandoned by their own family. He grit his teeth before just outstretching his hand.

- “Glad to be working with you then, lady Rosalind.” - he smiled kindly as she shook his hand.

- “The feeling is mutual, but please call me Rose. I’m not a lady anymore.”

- “Then call me Varric in exchange. Come, I will show you your room.” - he haphazardly signed the contract before getting off his seat and leading her to her new room, determined to help with ‘breaking the cycle’ whatever it was.

I’m glad it all went smoothly. - Poet sighed a breath of relief.

It’s not over yet, just one step in all of the machinations. Not mentioning all that will happen. - Sage replied.

Hunter remained silent, as always, observing, prowling in silence.

Chapter 4: Taking Roots

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While their cooperation began smoothly, the work of Quintisition wasn’t easy, even with intel sources from Varric. The amount of information that Rose had to juggle, not mentioning the constant swaps with Poet or Warrior, something that began to whittle away on her health, yet she was determined to help either way.

Half a year has passed since she arrived in Kirkwall, and with it, some changes had occurred. Firstly, she stopped wearing corsets, something that only hurt her in the longer time. She also cut her hair shorter and darkened it with ash, just in case someone looked for her.

While the official statement of Trevelyans was that she was sent out to the countryside to recuperate, it was loudly obvious in the underground channels that the patriarch was furiously looking for her, with her brother in tow. Although she knew that it was a wasted effort, for even with all the strength Trevelyans could muster, the guild was stronger, and with it, her protection.

She also got introduced to Hawke, a friend and mercenary of Varric, as well as her gaggle of companions, all different and out of place. The most in place was actually the warrior woman, known as Aveline. She was a guard’s captain in the city and used her authority securely and fairly, something rare in this land, brimming with corruption, a lone lit up torch of honor. Rose admired her, aspiring to be the same, even if she didn’t exactly share the warrior stamina or specification with her.

Others were also interesting, in their own ways. A runaway slave from Tevinter that specified in ripping hearts out, Fenris – a man Warrior really liked to agitate for some reason. A dalish elven mage that was quite bizarre, possessing a lot of knowledge yet not that much at the same time. Varric called her Daisy so she and Rose got along well, as a ‘bouquet’. There was Isabella, a pirate lady with a way too flirty attitude, but she didn’t touch Rose herself, deeming her ‘way too young’. While it frustrated Rose, voices had different opinions.

Good for you, trust me she’s not the romantic type. She will steal your heart and your wallet. I know from experience. - warned Warrior.

It is… Dangerous to meddle in that way, in attachment, seeing as we will have our duties sooner or later. - Sage’s murmur echoed through Rose’s mind.

I am not against romance in spite of them, but Isabella is a heartbreaker, stay away from her in that regard. - sighed Poet.

There were also other two, as well as Hawke herself, all of which voices didn’t say much. If anything, it was concerning how silent the Quintisition was in terms of Hawke, Anders and Sebastian. Although Rose knew innately that she could trust them, or at least trust Hawke trusting them.

Hawke was a funny woman, a beautiful yet powerful mage with short black hair and a smear of red on her face, in the form of warpaint almost. She always had a comeback, and in contrast to Warrior, it wasn’t just an insult or a lewd joke. It seemed that she was the leader, even if it was Varric that led them with intel and resources. The title of Champion that the woman held was also massively impressive, sometimes even a bit daunting. Still, it was good to have more company, as for the first time in her life, Rose felt like she truly belonged somewhere, as herself, without hiding.

Or hiding much. There were still secrets that mostly remained with her, even if some spilled to Varric.

At this moment Rose was in a hurry, jogging through the Hightown, her goal in the gallows, or rather in the darker alley of it. The night moon was her only companion as she scoured through the streets, not even a drunkard would be out at this late hour. Which made her job easier to fulfill, even if it held many risks with deadly consequences.

What was her mission tonight? Smuggling, or rescue, as she had called it. She was instructed by Varric to help some mages to get out of Gallows, as they got themselves in deep sh*t and now feared the Knight-Commander Meredith would make them Tranquil.

Tranquility, a barbarian way to make a mage ‘harmless’, or rather to strip them of their soul in its entirety. When Rose first learned that this thing was happening here on a monthly occurrence, she felt sick to the stomach, her self righteous mind reeling, burning with the need to fight. Only when Varric explained to her that she would most probably die, did she stop rallying for war against templars. Still, it left her with a bad taste towards this class, including the pretty Templar with curly hair, which she now knew was called Cullen and was Knight-Captain, so a right hand of Meredith. She couldn’t fathom how in the fade did anyone with such kind eyes could allow such atrocities to happen.

You don’t know everything kiddo, all stories have a motive. - Warrior remarked, a bit resigned.

I don’t agree with his actions, but the most we can do is what we do now. - Sage barely whispered.

Sooner or later, those that hurt will answer for their crimes. - Poet almost growled it out, clearly angry.

Rose knew that Sage and Poet were mages, so she understood their opinions and in this moment she had no time to bicker against them. For now she needed to smuggle out three mages, one of which will be made tranquil the very next day if she doesn’t help. She hurried along, being careful to not be noticed by any patrols nor civilians, her dark clothing letting her blend in easily with the shadows.

There were some patrols, of course, as always – their armors clunking through the city walls, echoing with their metal song of terror, but Rose wasn’t scared. She had her skills, as well as the whole Quintisition if all goes to sh*t.

Language

She quickly arrived in the planned alley, no one else was there yet but that was good, gave her more time to prepare. She tidied up her clothes and tightened the harlequin mask she was wearing. She also took out her daggers, just in case, the dragon bone handle sparkling in moonlight. Rose hoped she wouldn’t need to use them, but its better to be cleanly armed than bloodily dead, as Warrior would say.

Suddenly a soft pattern of knocks rang out under her feet, against the manhole. She took a deep breath and opened the entrance, jumping down to the sewers, quickly glancing at her ‘cargo’. It was a group of three, a man in his teens, an adult woman, possibly pregnant seeing as she was cradling her stomach protectively and a twelve years old elven girl, shivering in the night wind. All of them positively stank but there was no time to clean, they needed to go now. Without a word she took the girl on her arms and started running through the sewer labirynth with the precision of someone local. She knew where they needed to go – the Docks, in which the boat awaited them, ready to smuggle them to Ferelden, still a dangerous place but at least safer than Kirkwall, especially if they hid their magic. The man was thanking her profusely between gasps but she shushed him.

- “Thanks will come after I get you out.” - she simply remarked, dragging them through the shadows till they arrived at the marked ladder. It had a simple triangle made with chalk, yet Rose recognized it. She climbed first, lifting the manhole slightly to survey the surroundings. And then her heart almost stopped, as she saw him. One which it would be really hard to outrun, impossible to kill. Curly, as Varric would call him.

Varric would also say well sh*t, you know?

She sighed softly before returning down the ladder, trying to think about another plan, but nothing sparked. Until it did. Only mages needed to get free. And they wanted a mage. She turned to the little girl.

- “Please give me your staff. Then you will run to the boat that is south-east of here, while I will run opposite, to draw their attention. Don’t look back, just run.” - she confirmed with the group, the girls started tearing up before shaking her head and standing now more determined, as she gave Rose her staff. The wooden heft felt familiar, as if she was used to using it.

Maybe in a past life – Sage chuckled.

Rose took a deep breath and unstrapped one firebomb.

- “You will wait for an explosion sound before running. Maker watch over you.” - she smiled, opening the manhole just as she heard the woman’s answer

-“May he watch over us all.”

Rose took the bomb and detonated it on the left of the templar, running right, making as much noise as she could to draw his attention.

- “Hey! You!” - she heard his deep ferelden voice, yet she didn’t dare stop, leading him to the outskirts of the city, avoiding bigger patrols. Fortunately, because only he was here, no one else could raise the alarm, so it was a simpler chase than it would’ve been with a hord of Templars. A possible chase even. Her legs hurt, her lungs burned, yet she didn’t dare to stop, knowing that her sacrifice saved four possible lives.

She dared to slow down and look back only by the time they exited the city, the mushy soil making it harder to sprint, while the waves of angry sea deafened most of the surroundings. A thunder roared above them as she finally came to stop at the cliff. The templar was getting closer, his sword drawn, his face furious.

- “In the name of the Kirkwall Circle I order you to stop on my authority!” - he yelled out, visibly tired with the chase. - “You have nowhere to run. Just surrender and I will bring you back to… You’re not a mage.” - he realized, probably knowing all his charges. - “You’re the bait, they -!” - he started running back, but he didn’t get far, as Rose tackled him to the ground, motivated to stop him as long as it’s needed.

She then quickly jumped over him as he tried to get up, cutting him off from the city, and as such, the pursuit of real mages. She didn’t say anything to him, just held her daggers in a ready position, like the Hunter taught her all those years ago. On sides if you wish to kill, on bottom if you wish to threaten… In front if you wish to bait, that was the position she took, gritting her teeth, hoping to give them as much time as needed.

- “They are dangerous, you don’t know, you never saw what I did! Mages should be locked up, not running around and changing into… Abominations!” - the Knight-Captain screamed, yet his words didn’t keep as much resolution.

He doubts those words but it’s too early to change. - Sage remarked sadly

Keep him contained, the dawn will come. - Poet prayed for her luck

Good luck.

He attacked first, a heavy swing from above, measured to break her spirit and hopefully immobilize her. But she dodged, just as she always was taught, a roll on the side, yet not exactly to the side, still blocking his way. She responded with a quick slash of her dagger, yet it just bounced off his shield. He may have been trained to fight mages, but he also apparently had experience with rogues, which put her at a disadvantage, having lost the element of surprise. She fought valiantly, but she still was in the losing position, her boots slipping in mud, her body tired, her muscles screaming for rest.

Finally he toppled her over, pinning her to the ground, his sword stabbing the ground beside her. His hand moved to take off her mask so she panicked, headbutting him hard, splitting his lip. He groaned and arched back, letting her kick him off further and start running, as quickly as it was possible. She saw red, yet she didn’t dare stop, not before entering Varric’s hideout, where she promptly collapsed from stress and exhaustion, not even hearing the horn of departing boats, signaling her victory.

Well, that went… Successfully. - Sage was astonished.

So that’s a way for Curly to get this scar. Can’t wait for the day he realizes. - Warrior chuckled.

Poet didn’t say a thing, closing their eyes while taking control over Rose’s body, a small vessel in dire need of first aid and soft bed, both of which the Poet provided in form of previously prepared potions, drank in haste, before collapsing on the soft mattress itself. Poet was truly proud of Rose. She could’ve let the poor mages to their fate, yet she risked her life to help. He smiled with not his lips, in not his body, glad yet determined even more to break this cycle. He didn’t dare to think about what would happen to the girl’s spirit if she got trapped the same way they did.

Hunter was still, just observing what they did, yet a ghost of a smile could be seen on their face.

Chapter 5: Lullaby

Chapter Text

The story of that night echoed through the city, growing bigger and bigger through the weeks and months, from a small scuffle to a gargantuan battle between a brave Knight-Captain and a Pride demon that the mages summoned. Both sides, Cullen officially and Rose in the underground vehemently rejected that version, but barely anyone listened, especially after Varric sparked the gossip even further, just to discredit and disrupt the templars and Meredith.

Hawke saw it as incredibly humorous, even going as far as giving Rose a small carved pride demon figure on her name day. How she knew it was Rose’s name day, that remained a mystery. Nevertheless, a year has passed since she arrived and she was happy to be there, even when the conflicts started reaching all time highs with the lack of a proper ruler of Kirkwall.

Rose would personally recommend Varric, but he didn’t want to hear about it, distracting her with some other things every time she tried to talk to him about it. For today, it was a round of Wicked Grace in Hanged Man, along with a pitcher of beer, all on his own tab.

The girl focused on her cards, wanting to win, hoping that way she could sway the fate back on the talks. She felt deep unease, as if something was coming, yet the voices remained weirdly silent, so Rose tried to grab on anything that would stabilize her, in this regard – Varric himself. She trusted the dwarf, as did the rest. He also was a man of many secrets so he respected hers, something Rose was grateful for.

Rose raised the bet, looking into her card intensely. Two angels, three knights, all the same theme. Somehow she got lucky. Or so she hoped. There was still a way for Varric to win, by cheating. But she hoped that she would notice it, somehow. She tensed, cracking her neck loudly to alleviate some pain. Varric raised his brow but told nothing, focused on his own hand. He sighed and threw his cards.

- “Fold. Lady Luck is not on my side it seems.” - he shrugged and drank some more beer. He had a simple pair of angels, It seemed. - “Anyways Flowers, how are you holding up? With your duties and all of that?” - he asked inquisitively, yet his eyes betrayed worry. She wanted to tell him the truth, to help, but she knew she couldn’t. She tried once and the consequences still plague her nightmares. Even now she can remember the pain of fade chains binding her throat, feeling all too real. The chains that others warned her about.

Fate has contingencies. If you try to work against it, only punishment awaits. - Sage exclaimed sadly.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try, just be mindful when. - Poet tried to cheer her up.

The rebellion will start either way, if not through that then maybe through worse means, leave it. - Warrior said bitterly.

It is not a goodbye, it is a see you later. - a faint voice echoed, the identity not known. It might’ve been the Hunter, but she didn’t remember their voice.

- “While there are… Some things lingering, I will be fine. I have to.” - she answered the worried dwarf with a forced smile that definitely didn’t alleviate his worries. She finished up her drink quickly before getting up. - “I will be going, I have some things to do yet.” - She didn’t await the dwarf’s reply and just left the tavern entirely.

She felt overstimulated, like all the surroundings were too bright and loud, despite it being a quiet evening. The voices remained weirdly quiet, yet something was calling out to her. Not outwardly, it wasn’t Varric running after her. No. It was inside. A calm and collected voice… Humming a tune long forgotten. She felt her body calming down at this ancient lullaby, her legs taking her somewhere she didn’t know, yet she didn’t hesitate or fear her instincts.

With every next step she heard the voice more quickly, while she was leaving the city, inward into the lands, towards the forest behind the city itself. The voice was of an older woman, or maybe a younger one, it was as if many tones meshed into one, yet the intent was clear. Care, worry, motherly love.

Elgara vallas, da'len
Melava somniar

Mala taren aravas
Ara ma'desen mela

Iras ma ghilas, da'len
Ara ma'nedan ashir
Dirthara lothlenan'as
Bal emma mala dir

Tel'enfenim, da'len
Irassal ma ghilas
Ma garas mir renan
Ara ma'athlan vhenas
Ara ma'athlan vhenas

By the time the song fell silent, Rose was inside of a forest, standing right before a lush meadow. Many flowers bloomed around, in all different colors, their aroma should overwhelm her senses yet it only brought peace to her mind. The moon was slowly rising over the horizon, peeking from above the treetops. In the middle of this meadow stood an oak stump, cut down cleanly, with no jagged lines. Rose approached it, curious about this place. Voices remained silent, yet they also didn’t send any caution her way. The girl sat on the stump, as if something compelled her.

Do you feel it, da’len? Close your eyes, feel the world around you… Become one with it. Yes, like that. Breath in… And out… Good. Feeling better now? Let’s start it over then, together this time. Sing with me, da’len.

The melody ran again, but this time it was from inside of her, from her heart and soul. And when her voice rose through the woods, four other voices echoed, all in their true nature.

Sun sets, little one,
Time to dream.
Your mind journeys,
But I will hold you here.

Where will you go, little one,
Lost to me in sleep?
Seek truth in forgotten land
Deep within your heart.

Never fear, little one,
Wherever you shall go.
Follow my voice –
I will call you home

- “I will call you home.” - an old woman’s voice answered, and when Rose opened her eyes back up, a pair of yellow eyes looked straight at her, penetrating her soul. When she jumped a bit back, falling off the stump, she noticed the rest of the figure. An imposing older woman, dressed in ceremonial garb, with an iron crown and white hairs, styled to look like dragon horns. She recognized this description instantly, having heard the story from Hawke herself many times.

Flemeth – Witch of the Wilds, stood before her, outstretching her thin yet strong hand to help the girl in getting up. Rose quickly got up, not taking the hand in fear of getting roped in some witch magic.

- “Self sufficient. Good. You won’t survive the training if you will whine for others to help.” - the witch smiled, looking the girl up and down. Training? What training? Rose wondered, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. - “Your training, the Quintisition’s training, to break this damned cycle. Something you already took first steps in doing, seeing as you are here and not at your estate, Lady Trevelyan.” - Flemeth answered the thought question, as if she knew what the girl was thinking, her all seeing eyes never leaving Rose, rarely blinking even. - “It was a good guess to use the Chalice, even if it didn’t succeed completely, Catherine,” - she said, confusing Rose even more – “You just didn’t account for the fact that Chalice itself wasn’t the whole chain that bound you all to the cycle. Yes, it was the Chalice that started it, blood and tears drank in grief. But it was the divine interventio-”

that motherFUC-!

-”Do not interrupt Catherine, nor should your companions do it, as I have limited patience.” - the witch chided. - “Yes, it was him that disrupted the ritual, perverting the wish, binding you all to your fate. As such, only his help can release you fully. Still, some training won’t hurt. The girl, you Rose, needs to be able to control every one of your abilities. Be it magic, swords, daggers, bows… Even the Spellsong itself. And I will help with it.”

- “And what… Will be your price? No one works for free.” - Rose successfully didn’t stutter, feeling a bit better inside, even if she didn’t know what exactly this deal entailed. She was determined to break the cycle, that was what she promised, and that will be what she will do, no matter what.

- “Just break the cycle, that’s all I ask. I grew tired of repeating the same events over and over and over again. So many of them, the elves, the qunari, the dwarves… And now humans, one after another. Still, you show potential, little flower. Learn from me and maybe you shall succeed.” - Flemeth smiled cruelly, outstretching her hand again. - “Or rot in this cycle for eternity, under Fen’Harel’s paw.”

Rose quickly shook the witch’s hand, already dreading what the training would entail. Older woman just looked at her, pleased with that decision.

- “Excellent. From now on, you shall come here today, every day, till the day the city of chains burns. And I shall make you a warrior worthy of the title of Chainbreaker. And for today’s lesson… We’ll start with the basics.” - Flemeth grasped Rose’s head firmly, exuding her magic influence to make the girl faint. - “Well my dear ‘adopted’ daughter… I can’t spill all of my secrets at once, can I? Sleep da’len, sleep. For when you wake up, only hard work will await you.” - the witch threw the girl’s unconscious body over her shoulder with unnatural strength and entered the dark forest, humming the lullaby again.

Flemeth is a risk, but better than doing nothing. - Sage was a bit nervous

We just need to set boundaries hopefully – Poet shivered

That son of a… If I ever get outside of here, the first thing I do is clock him, I swear. - Warrior still fumed with anger.

Hunter was nowhere to be seen in mindscape, yet their humming echoed.

Chapter 6: Balance

Chapter Text

The training was grueling and exhausting, day after day of straining both body and mind, to ensure pure perfection, as nothing less would satisfy the Witch. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months and before Rose even noticed, her 18th name day had come. Through this arduous training she had attained many talents from her guardians, as well as many other talents that simply awakened in her, with or without Flemeth’s assistance.

From Warrior she gained the berserk abilities, as well as proper ability to wield any sword, be It one handed or two. They also forget an artifact together, one that could create a two handed blade purely out of light and use it as a weapon of devastation. Rose also learned Qunlat, as well as many abilities of spotting spies or luring out the truth. Warrior – or rather Catherine, as she officially introduced herself, gave the young rogue the strength and spite to keep going, often overriding the exhaustion with berserk, if more training was needed. Catherine also tried to teach her about all bedroom things and alcohol but was promptly shushed away by the rest, as they deemed Rose too young for something like that. Rose didn’t know if she should feel grateful or offended at that.

From Poet she learned the foreign yet fragile art of diplomacy, not by the screaming and abuse that her father represented, but by thinly veiled truths and lies, blackmail, as well as simple politeness. She learned how to dance, write, sing, play, even how to play Wicked Grace on a level that not even Varric could win. Poet also taught her how to speak many languages of courts, Orlesian, Antivan or Ferelden’s true language – sarcasm and spite. He did include some lessons about Nevarran too, but left it unfinished. What he didn’t skimp on were lessons on poetry, from the frolic and simple to the poems so grand that Rose’s head hurt when she tried to interpret it, still she tried, for her friend – now known as Kaaras, deserved some happiness too. Last lesson Kaaras Adaar gave his little students was different – the art of Arcane Warrior, a mage that stands in front, protecting others with sword and healing magic, something that Rose apparently had a big talent for, healing even big gashes easily.

Sage taught her more about art of the arcane, his first gift being the mental library in which he amassed an unimaginable amount of grimoires that he apparently read through his life. Having been cursed with perfect memory, he remembered all of them and could dictate them word for word for his student. Rose eagerly absorbed the knowledge, her spells coming out better and better with every try, yet despite that, no Templar reacted to her, meaning she was invisible to them, as well as to most of the spirits, the fact that even Flemeth commented on. She was free of possession yet could study everything. Still, Sage, or rather Iori Lavellan, didn’t teach her any of the blood magic arts, deeming them forbidden. In exchange, he taught her Tevene, words coming from him were with Foreign accent, as if he mimicked someone local, someone he heard back before, but when Rose asked about it he stayed silent. His last gift was one of curiosity, enchanting a pair of spectacles to see more, even beyond.

From the beginning, Hunter was against teaching Rose anything, opting to stay hidden below, in the depths of her mind. Yet, by persistence of others and Flemeth, they agreed to it, albeit reluctantly. First they taught da’len the art of hunting, big and small animals fell to their arrows, a small prayer to goddess of the hunt said above each corpse, all meat eaten, all bones used, nothing wasted. Then they taught da’len the art of killing, slitting throats and gutting, for those that disrupt, that betray, that are a waste to the world. To never hesitate in the face of the danger, to greet death with head raised high, without any fear. Last thing they taught Rose was about truth, about roots and about trust. Rose learned Elvhen, all forms, even those forgotten by all but those eternal, she learned the elven legends of gods, she learned the forms of arts that remain after Arlathan. And finally she learned the Hunters name, never to be spoken, in case it spooks their prey. - Shiya. When Rose asked what the prey was that the Hunter was hunting, only a single word slipped.

Wolves.

While she learned from inside, she didn’t have an option to ignore lessons from outside, from Flemeth. The old woman wasn’t necessarily cruel, but she wasn’t kind either, opting for strict discipline and pure, unadulterated teaching, with no fluff or faffing around. That included punishments sometimes, albeit they weren’t physical. Mostly a scolding, or forcing Rose to read a few more chapters of the grimoires. Her lessons were more practical, showing and controlling the magic that Rose tried to tame, showing how to bend the veil up to one’s whims and wants, without risking consequences.

The witch tried to teach Rose about Spellsinging along with Hunter, but their efforts were mostly wasted, the young rogue’s body not yet ready for such a strain, it was promptly decided to put this training for future, another day in which Rose will be stronger in terms of body and mind.

Tonight, on the night of Rose’s 18th name day, she arrived at the same meadow as always, sitting on the trunk and beginning her sominari practices. While she wasn’t a full dreamer, she could try to commune with spirits, their whispers sometimes audible enough to understand. Alas, today was not that day. She sighed a bit, before pulling out her trinkets to play with, to wait till Flemeth came.

Oh don’t be like that kiddo! It’s your name day! Don’t waste it here, go drink! Or even better let’s go to the Bloo-

Absolutely not, Rose will not go to a Brothel, Maker’s Breath! Also we have more important thing to do.

Yes, that is true. Rose, please close your eyes and put on your spectacles. We have… One last lesson for you.

Rose quickly did as was told, shivering a bit yet not opening her eyes till she had permission. And then she felt it. A hand’s touch on her shoulder, making her eyes open in astonishment. And so she saw it.

Or rather them. All members of Quintisition, all four of them, standing before her, looking closer to Fade spirits, yet their forms remained untouched. A qunari mage wearing elegant robes, an elven scribe with golden spectacles on his nose, a proud muscular woman with hair similar to hers and an elf rogue with golden eyes, looking dalish, yet their face was empty of any kind of vallaslin.

- “Surprise?” - Sage said with an awkward smile, while straightening his spectacles.

- “That’s got to be the sh*ttiest exclamation, Maker’s balls..” - Warrior laughed, hugging Rose, her body somehow warm and touchable, even when ethereal. - “Happy name day kiddo” – Catherine hummed while squeezing with all her might, leaving Rose breathless and with a bit of painful ribs.

- “Cath! You really should control your strength!” - Kaaras scolded while healing the bruises instantly, his hand still on Rose’s shoulder. - “Still, I wish you a very happy name day Rose, I’m proud of you, we are all proud.” - he continued, his eyes a bit misty, full of fatherly pride… And tears

- “Yes, happy name day Rosalind. Hope all your dreams come true.” - Iori exclaimed kindly while keeping distance, his earring chain dangling and sparkling in moonlight.

Hunter came up to Rose quietly, kneeling and taking her hand into theirs. They still kept their hood on, hiding from the world.

- “Happy name day da’len. May you have many more of them.” - a whisper came, more like a prayer to gods, than a wish to her. Then they stood up and moved back.

- “I see celebrations are in full swing already.” - Flemeth’s voice rang out from behind her, so Rose turned around. - “Good, one shouldn’t waste time in any situation. For tis’ obvious that no one knows how long does one have.” - Flemeth gave her an ornate dagger with the blade made from dragon fang while the handle was covered in wolf skin. - “That is my gift to you, first and last one, my student.” - she said menacingly.

Suddenly an explosion rang out from the direction of the city, a pure red pillar of light shooting out into the sky from the location of the chantry.

- “Our lessons have now come to an end. Now fly, little flower. Let the wind take you where you need to go.” - the witch said before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

- “So that’s how it looked. Well, can’t fault her for being somehow not literal, Kirkwall is in flames.” - Catherine murmured while stretching her nonexistent body as it started to disappear back into the Fade. - “Come Rosie, time to kick asses. And maybe get out.”

- “Reverse order more like, but yes. We should go.” - Iori corrected and was gone, just like that.

- “While you can help, prioritize your own safety.” - Kaaras gave her a slight hug before disappearing.

Rose couldn’t find Hunter, but she heard their words, before it all went black.

Better to seek Apology than permission. As such, I apologize, da’len.

Chapter 7: Bitter goodbyes

Chapter Text

Varric knew from the start that today wouldn’t be a very good day, but nothing could prepare him for the crap that happened. First Meredith and Orsino were fighting, threatening each other and then Blondie blew up the Chantry where the negotiations could’ve taken place, that idiot! Varric knew that Blondie and Justice were having some problems, but no one could predict that he would snap like that. Debris and flame fell onto the city, destroying some of it, while templars and mages fought one another, spurred on by their leaders – Meredith with Rite of Annulment and Orsino rallying the circle, trying to protect mages. In one word.

sh*t.

Still, Varric kept calm, going with Hawke, Merril, Fenris and Isabela through the ruins, right to the Gallows where most innocent mages were, fighting both sides on the way as they lost their minds, resorting to the vilest acts just to win. They were close to their destination but suddenly they heard a cry for help. Varric decided to run there, hoping he isn;t too late.

- “Go without me, I will catch up!” - he yelled out before running into the alley nearby. Another scream rang out, this time along with a wet gurgle and then splat. Varric readied his crossbow, hoping it wasn’t his end too.

And indeed it wasn’t as he met face to face with someone that nullified both one templar and two mages that were fighting. Varric couldn’t believe what he saw.

- “Flowers?” - he asked in disbelief, lowering his crossbow a bit. When she turned around he instantly noticed he was mistaken. It wasn’t Rose, nor was it the Poet or Warrior. It was someone else. Someone determined. Before he could even try to defend himself, that person took him with some sort of levitation power and started running along to the Gallows, seemingly severing both magic and templar powers along the way, a small green string whipping around them wildly, touching yet not wounding the enemies. Varric tried as he might, but he couldn’t get out of the grip that the girl had on him. - “I mean if you wanted to take me on a date, least you could do was introduce yourself.” - he joked, having nothing else to do.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. - “I’m Hunter,” - they said quickly, before letting Varric go, right on the steps to the Gallows. - “Your friend will come soon, help them, help the city.” - they whispered while turning back down the stairs. They stood on one pedestal that previously housed a statue and spread their hands wide, extending the green string, before clapping once, snapping the Fade Wire.

The sonic boom almost deafened Varric, but it definitely did more to mages and templars in the courtyard, knocking them out cold. When Varric was able to finally see clearly, Rose was no longer there, but Hawke and the rest ran closer to him. Hawke raised a brow.

- “How did you get here?” - woman asked

- “You know how it is, Dwarven secrets and such.” - he quickly replied, deciding to sort this sh*t out after the fires die down. For now he needed to help Hawke, and that’s what counted.

Not the fact that he didn’t even get to say goodbye to his friend.

========

By the time the rebellion was all over, seeing Meredith changed into a disgusting lyrium idol and Orsino into an abomination, Varric was tired enough to not pursue the subjects with anyone, more focused on restoring a semblance of an order along with Aveline and Cullen, new Knight-Commander after standing against Meredith. Hawke also seemed tired, enough for her to disappear with Fenris only a week later. Merril was focused on her mirror studies, Isabella swam out into the sea on her new ship, Sebastian promised a revenge after Hawke let Blondie live… And blondie… Blondie ran off somewhere, hopefully to a place he won’t ever be seen from.

As for himself, Varric was now saddled with duties of both a writer, wanting to write the Hawke’s tale as it was as well as a pretty much ruler of kirkwall itself, even if he refuted all the titles. Only then could he try to look into his sources to track Rosie somehow. And he did find her, back at her family home in Ostwick, having reclaimed her title and even starting a fight for being an heir with her brother. She also released her own brother from a Circle, citing Kirkwall as a disaster.

Varric could say many things, but she definitely learned much in this City.

Over time, her letters didn’t come, which dwarf took as a sign she wanted to stop their cooperation. As such, he also stopped trailing her.

His last agent came back from Ostwick a few days earlier, leaving one report, but Varric didn’t have time to read it until now. He opened the envelope quickly, expecting a small writing depicting her simple days. What he got brought a lone tear to his eye.

“Dearest Friend,

We are sorry about how our last meeting happened, yet we didn’t have any other choice. For now we shall stay as needed, but one day the dawn will come – and we will meet again. Until then, we wish you all the fortune that is needed. We also arranged some relief resources for Kirkwall itself, take it as a sign of our apologies.

Live freely,

Rosalind Lucretia Trevelyan
Catherine – Warrior
Kaaras Adaar – The Poet
Iori Lavellan - Sage
Hunter

“

Varric smiled at the letter and put it in a safe place, needing to work on other duties of his.

- “I wish the same to you, Flowers.” - he whispered to the air itself.

Chapter 8: Once more, into the breach

Chapter Text

Years have passed, Rose grew up as a respectable noble, beating her brother in the competition of competency, which earned her the status of an heir to Trevelyans. Not that she wanted it, but resources that came with it were something she couldn’t refuse, not that close to the time of need. She was now a 23 year old, the last test that her father gave her was to attend Conclave in his stead.

Well, that’s easier than my plan. But also way more boring, Jacob deserves a beating – Catherine murmured, her Fade echo body now leaning against the wall as Rose was packing.

Since that last name day in Kirkwall, Rose had noticed that she could still see her guardians, just more as hallucinations. That fact didn’t bother her though, as their counsel was quite valuable, even ideas from Catherine.OY.

Jacob has grown too, but because he was a spoiled brat, he lost most of his advantage the moment Rose returned to the estate – 4 years ago. His support crumbled the moment they saw the greener grass on Rose's side, pulling Jacob into alcoholism and mostly being a menace, now that he didn’t matter.

Having brought Ceylon – her oldest brother – back from the Ostwick circle, she made him her retainer, and now he was handling most of Documents, having third biggest authority after Father and Rose. Due to years spent in a circle, he was an excellent bureaucrat as well as excellent fighter, not mentioning he was quite the looker, so much that most of the households ignored him being a mage and sent proposals anyways.

Rose also got many proposals, yet she refused all. She would settle after her duties, and those were coming closer and closer now, with the announcement of Conclave. She took a deep breath while packing only essentials, daggers, potions, simple clothing and her thorn pin, her only memento. She wondered if a letter from Ceylon would even arrive in Haven – causality would stop any forms of interference, so in the same way she couldn’t stop Kirkwall, the Temple of Sacred Ashes would explode. Still, it was better to send it, just in case she needed to prove her innocence or confirm causality’s actions, even if it would end in a painful way. Slowly the training wheels were coming off, even others didn’t tell her as much about people that would help, just that she would work with Right and Left hands of the Divine.

It’s better that way, to know someone you should meet them yourself. By knowing them from us, you wouldn’t be able to perceive them fairly. Not to mention their private secrets – Kaaras was ‘sitting’ on her bed, observing the surroundings.

- “Yes I know, no need to repeat it.” - Rose murmured, taking some books with her too. - “Still, to know the situation you should… Never mind, I trust you. Just… Will it be very painful?” - she whispered, a bit scared.

In the beginning, yes. Later on it will calm down. And lets hope we stop it before another later comes. - Iori was leaning against her desk, acting as if he was reading her reports.

She nodded quietly and tied up her backpack neatly before throwing it on her back. She was already in an adventure appropriate outfit so other things didn’t matter. She sighed and got out of her room, looking at it one last time.

-“Once more, into the breach.” - Rose hummed and went to her Ceylon’s office, wanting to say goodbye. He didn’t know it would probably be their last meeting for a long time, if they even met again at all. It hurt, her heart was shattering, she barely regained her brother only to abandon him. Yet she didn’t waver, taking a big breath before coming into his office without knocking.

- “Sister dearest! How are you? Are you ready for the road? Hm? Shouldn’t you be already in transit, you will be late!” - he fussed over her while giving her a hug. Rose laughed softly.

- “One question at a time. I am fine, I am ready. And don’t worry, I will be on time, I have my ways of travel.” - she answered, not wanting to let him go. - “Ceylon… Please, protect yourself. Jacob only stays put because he is scared. I don’t know if me leaving won’t bolster him. So please be-”

- “Yes I know little flower. I know how Jacob is,” - Ceylon smiled sadly. - “Our brother unfortunately went bad way. I have it under control.” - he ruffled her hair with delight. - “Still, you should be careful too, the roads aren’t as safe as they are. Sleep with daggers, just not poisoned.” - her brother finally let her go, his eyes welling with pride and tears.

- “Thank you. I will. Maker watch over you Brother.” - she quickly left, not wanting to cry where someone could see.

Rose arrived at stables rather fast, taking her tobiano mare – Ayatan and drove out into the road, already planning how to work the introductions out.

Forest on the left will be enough – Hunter said.

Rose of course listened and led Ayatan right there, jumping off the saddle when she felt the buzz of fade.

With all those years, her abilities advanced, including those of Hunter. Rose could call herself a Spellsinger with pride, having mastered most of the abilities, with Hunter’s and Flemeth’s help, as the witch visited her in the estate many times. One of those abilities was creating a temporary Eluvian, a mirror that could transport a person over a huge distance in a short span of time. That’s how she will arrive in Haven earlier, just to maybe save more people. She knew she couldn’t stop the main event, but she could at least try to limit the deaths of innocents.

She took a deep breath before focusing the string of magic in one place, using it to make a split in reality itself. It took some strength but she did it after a few minutes, quickly riding through it to not let anything out, as she did many times, accidentally. Ayatan was already accustomed so the mare didn’t get spooked by the change of environment, nor did she rear when they passed through the other side of the portal, arriving in snowy terrains of Frostback Mountains.

Rose shivered a bit, quickly unfurling her coat from under the saddlebag and putting it on. Maker’s breath, Ferelden was really cold. She slowly started riding in the direction of Haven, the multitude of steps before her marking her way. Over the time she met some pilgrims, but didn’t dare to exchange words, hoping to get into a warmer place sooner rather than later.

Not that later she finally spotted the promised lands, a small encampment or a village, with some tents located outside too. She quickly approached the stables, leaving Ayatan In care of a caring stablehand, paying him 10 sovereigns for protection, an amount that no simple person would give. The kid lit up and even saluted her, swearing up and down to take care of ‘her beauty’ while Rose was going towards the gates. She looked around, curious about the place that her guardians knew so much about, yet refused to say almost anything except basics. She got distracted so much, she didn’t notice anything till she literally bumped into a chunk of metal, giving herself a probable future bruise on her forehead.

- “Oh for maker’s sa-! Oh, are you alright madame?” - a thick ferelden accent asked and when she looked up, the same golden eyes as all those years ago stared back at her. Same that caught her in the Gallows courtyard on her first day, eyes of the man whose lip she split with her headbutt, the visible scar still there. She didn’t bump into a chunk of metal, she did in fact bump into an armored templar commander, Cullen Rutherford. Her blood ran cold yet hot as she jumped back a bit, instinctively, something he noticed instantly. - “Apologies for startling you miss, but this is a military zone, the pilgrim’s site is closer to the chantry, right through that gate.” - he explained stiffly, not wanting to scare her apparently.

Rose nodded quickly before running off, her heartbeat all weird. Was it fear? Embarrassment? Shame for that night? She didn’t know but she needed to go, sooner rather than later, entering the encampment quickly, going instinctively to the tavern, before her mind registered where her feet got her. When she realized, she quickly sat down on the stool, ordering a beer and some gruel. It’s better to think on a full stomach after all. She was able to calm down quickly, throwing the momentary lapse in sense out of the proverbial window. She wasn’t here for that, she was here to help. And to help, she needed more intel, sooner rather than later.

You are asking a lot, but I understand. The explosion will happen tomorrow, in the morning hours. To lead people away, I advise trying to convince Chantry sisters for a morning service towards Andraste, to make them pray for the success of Conclave. Easiest way to control them. - Iori mused, not materializing, just staying in the mental library.

Dumb religion sh*t, one of three biggest causes leading to sh*t, right after politic sh*t and magic sh*t!

Don’t stress her more!

Rose sighed briefly, taking her order and sitting in a corner of the tavern, keeping to herself while swallowing warm yet tasteless porridge with ram meat.

- “You’re sighing a lot for a girl your age, Flowers. May I help?” - the familiar voice of her friend rang out from across the table. The table wasn’t empty, just the chair covered him apparently. Rose first swallowed her gruel before talking.

- “Varric? You’re here? What happened to Kirkwall?” - she asked, a bit worried.

- “Kirkwall is fine and dandy, in repairs. Just.. Well, Lady Seeker thought I could tell her some things and I didn’t exactly fulfill her wish. So I’m a semi-prisoner pretty much, tillConclave ends at least.” - he explained with a smile, writing something in his notebook. - “And how are you, most esteemed Lady Trevelyan? You are quite far from Ostwick.”

- “Yes, you are right. Father sent me here, as the last test before he acknowledges me as his heir.” - she replied calmly, focused on eating. - “Other than that, maybe a bit of curiosity with all that happened. A hope for a better tomorrow. Divine Justinia has potential in doing it.” - the guilt was eating the girl alive, but she didn’t dare say anything. It was too early and dangerous. Hopefully her iron facade would be enough to fool the dwarf, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say it, just smiling kindly while chatting with her about this and that.

Easiest way will be not leaving signs. Hunter, you’re up. At night, leave a note in the chantry. Copy Leliana’s writing.

Rose bid the dwarf goodbye when it started to get darker, going to the pilgrim area of tents before relinquishing the control to Hunter.

Next time Rose would awake, she would be in the dungeons, cuffed, with a green blinding scar on her hand that hurt her entire body and empty spots in memory.

Chapter 9: Well, sh*t

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Green. This was the color of the eyes that Cullen dreamed of since that night at the docks, except for moments in which he had nightmares about the circle. The girl that helped those mages escape, it was her probably, if he had to think about it. It would be possible, she fought for mages rights and now Conclave tried to fix the conflict, so maybe to oversee? Or as support. Cullen didn’t know, nor did he care. He just wanted this to be over and done with, so he can do his job, preferably in a warmer climate, as this cold air even got to him, his body unaccustomed due to living in Kirkwall for over 10 years. He tightened his coat and returned to training the recruits, the dull pain in his head still present yet not as much.

The girl… She seemed young. Cullen doesn’t remember what it was when he was her age, his memories mostly dulled by lyrium withdrawal and nightmares. He hoped it was all worth it, seeing as staying in Templars would only bring him more trauma and suffering. No, this was his last chance for redemption, both for his body as well as his mind. To serve the Divine and their army was a way to sever the chains from templars, once and for all, to leave that past behind. Cullen felt determined to do it, no matter how much pain it would take, he would persevere. Only then would he be able to live on, to make something new of himself.

Despite his duties, his mind still returned to her. It was as if he’s seen her before, even earlier than that one night. But where, he pondered. It was definitely in Kirkwall, that was sure, he didn’t stay anywhere else. Also definitely not the Blooming Rose, not only did he avoid that place like the plague, the young miss didn’t seem like a ‘lady’ of that type. She seemed to look more like a noble, but no nobles in Kirkwall that he had the displeasure of meeting shared her characteristics. It was like a fog on his mind, yet it didn’t want to let go, the conundrum driving into his mind over and over again. A soft shake on his arm brought his mind out for now.

- “Dispatch for ye” – Rylen, his second in command, mumbled while giving him the papers. - “Tis place doesn’t seem rite, ye know? The resources, the people. I have a wee bad feeling bout it.”

- “Thank you Captain for your illustrious insight. Shall I include it verbatim to the Divine?” - Cullen answered while looking through the parchments, comparing all the numbers to those he remembered from previous runs. He hoped the Conclave would end soon, too many civilians swarmed the place, not mentioning Haven was no hold, if surrounded they had no place to go, to run and even with some trebuchets, most they could do is cause an avalanche, but that would be also a suicide.

- “Nah, just mentionin that if all goes to sh*te, I reserve the rite to say ‘I told ye so’.” - Rylen shrugged. - “Rite, the lass that came a wee bit earlier, did ye saw her? The red on her speaks to me hart, that’s sure.”

- “You’re speaking of the woman that ran into me?” - Cullen raised a brow – “What’s wrong with her?”

- “Wrong wit ‘er? Me friend, she a treasure, that’s what’s happenin. Heard from the stable boy that she paid him 10 royals, simply for takin’ care of ‘er horse.” - the man gasped – “For dat money I would’ve done much more for that pretty lass.” - he whistled.

- “She’s a pilgrim for..! Maker’s Breath, Rylen! No woman should be watched like that.” - Cullen got angry instantly, though he didn’t know if it was because Rylen was acting like a pig or was he just protecting the girl’s honor.

- “I didn’t say any bout watchin… Im just sayin’ that if she wanted some…” - Second in command chuckled. - “Tho me thinks she would’ya wanna take a bite of ya more, seeing as she got all red in the face when she ran.” - he grinned at Cullen.

- “First, we have duties,” - Cullen growled – “Second, you must be mistaken. She probably just felt embarrassed for falling into my armor.” - while he did say that, he wondered inside, purely for curiosity’s sake of course. It was not like the Commander would be interested, no. And even if he was, that girl was a noble. Rylen laughed before going his way, closer to recruits, most likely to correct their movement while still laughing at his superior. Cullen could only sigh, fixing up his hairstyle a bit before barking more orders to recruits.

The day passed quickly, before he knew it was nightfall and all the recruits were retreating to their tents. Cullen did the same, not wasting any time. Due to withdrawal he didn’t feel hungry, yet a portion of stew with a waterskin was on his desk, probably Leliana’s work, if he had to think. Still, as Commander, he needed to set out an example, and for that he needed energy, no matter how queasy he felt now.

He quickly sat down, still overlooking the reports from the day, calibrating the angles of trebuchets in his head over and over till he became numb and his bowl remained empty. Only then did he allow himself for a while of daydreams, while drinking elfroot potion to alleviate the headache.

He didn’t see the girl again throughout the day, but from what Rylen faffed about, she was seen in the Tavern with Varric, which brought his suspicions even higher about seeing her earlier than that memorable night. If she knew Varric strongly enough to have them chat friendly, she must’ve been a part of Hawke’s circle, yet he never met her, nor did he see her running around them. It was all complicated yet his mind didn’t wish to rest, not one bit, unless he solved that question. It wasn’t after that meeting, that’s for sure, so that still left many years open. It didn’t happen when he was a fresh Templar in kirkwall, he definitely was a Knight-Captain by that time, that also helped a bit.

Red hair, green eyes, they plagued his memory and before he realized, the dawn shone through the tent flap, signaling the morning, meaning he didn’t get even a wink of sleep. He was determined to find her today and ask about it, mostly for the peace of his mind.

As he went out, he noticed that a large number of pilgrims was now near or in the Chantry, with no one being on the road to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He called a runner to ask why.

- “Sir, Lady Nightingale sent over Divine’s order to ordain a mass, in order to pray for the success of the Conclave, sir!” - the recruit yelled out before going along with his duties. Orders? Divine? Cullen felt suspicious of it and started going through the gates to the chantry, but before he could even open the gates, a loud crack and boom echoed through the mountains and when he turned back…

The Temple was no more, swallowed by green light that split the sky. Green… Green like the fade. Green like her eyes.

Cullen mobilized the troops instantly to, barking orders left and right to maintain the chaos, running ahead first just to evacuate survivors, if any came, but to his dismay, the whole place was obliterated to the ground, corpses now only pieces of charcoal in poses signaling dismay and terror.

Suddenly a burst of energy split from the breach in the air, opening a rift near him and the soldiers, spilling demons before closing. While his soldiers were fighting, Cullen noticed another rift and ran to it, hoping to kill demons before they came. But it wasn’t the demons inside. Instead there were two figures, one – a woman made out of pure light pushed out the other while getting grabbed back herself, before the rift closed itself back up. While his mind was slower, his body still reacted, catching the other figure…

The woman he met this morning, her body bloodied, her hair still red… And her hand now sporting a glowing pulsating scar, in the same color as the breach. Cullen felt compelled to curse Rylen mentally, for jinxing them all. For now, Conclave was no more, and Divine was dead.

Chapter 10: Through the mind’s eye

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Rose awakened in her mind first, opening her eyes to the Fade side of the world surrounding her. A dungeon cell, now made of light green wisps was all she saw. She now felt thankful for the lessons she got from Hunter and Flemeth about the Fade, otherwise she would’ve panicked, bringing demons to herself. She might’ve not been a mage but that didn’t completely absolve her of risks, if anything the fact that she possessed abilities she did made her even tastier bait for them. Rose balanced her mind, trying to not succumb to fear when her left hand sparked with blinding green light, sending a shock of pain through her entire body, making her scream and wail uncontrollably.

It felt like her body was repeatedly electrocuted and burned at once, with every pulse of the power it got worse and worse.

- “Deep breaths Rose. I know it hurts, but you will make it. We are here to help.” - Kaaras’ voice was encompassing her mind before the qunari appeared before her, kneeling and cradling her hand in his, focusing his magic to lessen the pain a bit. After a few moments the burn let up, giving her a few oh so needed breaths.

- “What’s this? What happened?! Last thing I remember was… Being in the pilgrim's camp.” - she murmured.

- “The less I tell you about what happened, the lesser the chance those who will interrogate you will see you as a threat. But know this, it wasn’t your fault Imekari.” - the Poet answered while hugging her arguably smaller body. In this world he seemed more tangible than ever. - “We pulled you to the Fade to protect your mind from most of the pain, but it doesn’t mean that your body doesn’t suffer right now. It just means that you won’t feel it as much, till you are here,” - he explained, pausing for a bit – “Though you cannot stay for too long. This is not a place for a human or anyone mortal. The one who will help will come soon, he will soothe the wound temporarily. Till then, I shall keep you company.”

- “Who will he be? Will I meet them again?” - she asked and Kaaras chuckled hearthily.

- “You shall know in time, little flower. For now just trust them, they have no reason to harm you. None of them do, even those who will seem… Angry at first, even furious.” - Karaas got lost in his thoughts, just humming and patting her in the meantime. Some memories echoed through the fade but they were too loose for Rose to focus on even one. The rogue took a few deep breaths, slowing both her heartbeat and her racing mind. The Fade surroundings had begun to stabilize, showing more of detail, the bars of the cell now more solid, more imposing. Below her - a cobbled floor, cold and dark. In corners of the dungeon, four lights solidified, presences of living existences – the guardsmen probably. From what Rose could sense, she was definitely bound, predictable for a prisoner, but why was she-!

Conclave. That’s why. So all of those people… Rose choked up, trying to stifle her tears somehow. So many deaths, all of them her fault. The qunari tightened his hug on her, his eyes also glistening with tears, yet he didn’t dare say anything.

Loud screams, loud voices, again and again, is there an escape? You try, you always try, but is it worth anymore? - a voice rang out in the Fade, a new one, yet familiar.

Rose felt Kaaras stiffen before he got up and looked around the cell.

- “Cole, while I appreciate a try to help, it is not yet the time.” he murmured tenderly. - “She… Rose needs strength, too much of us here will only weaken her. Please come after you know what happens.” the qunari explained.

Alright, I will. Shall I make her forget? No, you don’t like it. Blessed are those with memories, even if they curse them, what I wouldn’t give to see her smile one more time. You miss her, yet she’s there. Why can’t you go, I don’t understand. - the enigmatic voice dictated another kind of riddle, yet it seemed that the Poet understood completely.

- “Because I’m afraid. And because I cannot.” - he whispered, more to himself. The other presence – Cole, disappeared, leaving Rose’s mind less strained, but still – the radiating pain was coming in waves, slowly getting worse again. The girl whimpered, getting the attention of the mage. He kneeled to her height and hugged her more. - “You will be fine Imekari… We are all rooting for you, as well as keeping an eye. If something goes wrong we will interfere, but we can’t do it all for you. This is your life, live it yourself. Take care.” - he said as he laid down a kiss on her forehead before going off into the Fade fog, disappearing, leaving Rose utterly alone in this weird Fade cell.

With a deep breath, and a few stuttered lyrics, Rose started singing the dreamer’s lullaby, her voice mingling and echoing with the fade itself, molding it to her own design. While the look of it didn’t change, the aura did – making it easier for the rogue to breathe, no longer did the atmosphere try to crush her lungs, nor did it weigh her down. Still, she knew that while being asleep she couldn’t do much more than exist here, no movement would even work. She was brought here forcefully, so only force would bring her back. Force that she was waiting for, with the song on her lips.

A human knowing dalish songs? Curious. - from the fade itself came out a wolf, all black as a shadow, with multiples of red eyes that looked in every direction.

Not only that, you are a Spellsong. Fascinating. - the wolf hummed, some of the eyes focusing on Rose. - It’s been a long time since I last saw your kind, there’s even less of you now than there were back then, when you were already rare.

Rose shivered a bit, but didn’t back down or cower, despite the fact that the wolf beast was towering over her ten times, their presence suffocating.

- “Are you here to help me with this?” - she brought her hand up to it’s snout, letting it sniff curiously.

A sominari too. A box of secrets, one could say. Secrets I will definitely study when I bring you back. Yes da’len, I am the one who is here to help you with the anchor. While I can’t separate you from it, I can at the very least stabilize it enough so it won't kill you. Still, time is a currency we don’t have much of right now. - the wolf hummed and tilted its head, as if it were considering something.

Then, the wolf erupted into a dark fog, covering all of Rose’s senses. When she gathered her surroundings, the only thing she saw was a pair of glowing blue-purple eyes staring right at her.

Wake up.

Chapter 11: Heart to mind, mind to heart

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When Rose awakened after an attempt of closing the Breach, she was pleasantly surprised to not be cuffed anymore, nor was she now in a dungeon. For a pleasant change, she was in a small wooden hut, tucked in the bed tightly, some poultices and potion on the nightstand. When she looked through the window, she noticed it was night, meaning some time has passed since that moment in the ruined temple. She tried to get up, hissing as her body vehemently protested against this action, all the strain, muscle pain and barely stitched wounds straining against her motion. She quickly inspected most of them, they seemed a few days old, no longer red and irritated. Her hypothesis was also confirmed by a scrap of parchment on the nightstand, written by someone called Adan. From the gist of it, she was unconscious for at least 2 full days, her body unresponsive yet stable. Her mind returned to the memories of the day she woke up in the dungeon, trying to work it out, now that she had the chance for that without any needless hurry.

Conclave failed, yes. Divine Justinia, leader of the Orlesian Chantry, was presumed dead, as they didn’t find the body or any semblance of evidence to counteract that theory. Both events predicted by her guardians, as grim as they were. Yet there was a glimmer of hope – not that many civilians had died as most of them were not in the temple but in the Chantry, called for a mass by revered Mothers, or rather Hunter that impersonated Leliana. Still, it was an effect, one of the biggest till now. A solid proof that Rose can counteract the Fate, in some way, even if she cannot completely stop it. She smiled softly before returning her focus.

After waking in the dungeon, she was barely interrogated by Leliana and Cassandra, as they decided that she was more valuable than her intel. Good. She had to fight demons outside of the fade for the first time – arguably bad. She met Varric again, very good, as her dwarven friend decided to remain with the Inquisition forces to… Inquisition? How did she… She shook her head, she didn’t have much time for distraction. Still, Varric helping meant very good things, his intel, contacts and skills were a gift from the Maker, one could say.

Not mentioning his chest hair – Catherine giggled inside Rose’s mind.

The girl chuckled, groaning as her ribs hurt in protest. She refocused again, continuing her train of thought. She met Solas, an elven apostate – mage without a circle, who was apparently the one that stabilized her wound. That… Was a mixed balance for Rose. From one side, he helped her, out of his own will. On the other, his wolf visage in the Fade spelled trouble. Elves and wolves rarely got along, mostly because of Fen’Harel itself – Dread wolf, god of tricksters from the elvhen pantheon. Still, the man was a treasury of knowledge, answering her questions eagerly, that did count to positives. Rose always loved learning new things, no matter how big or small, so an expert on the Fade was a good addition.

Banal nadas – Hunter hummed, their voice firm and sharp.

Had it been earlier, Rose would’ve tried to remember the translation, but she was getting sleepy again so she just hurried along with her mental report. She met Cassandra, or rather the woman met her, but still. A good warrior with a good heart. Just a bit… Impulsive. She barely saw Leliana which was good, the name of Nightingale itself gave her shivers. She met Chancellor Roderick, an older priest who outwardly ordered for Rose’s arrest and execution but nothing came out of this, not that Rose could blame him, the religious head of his organization died and the only person that survived was Rose herself. The girl pondered a bit, before her thoughts, quicker than her instincts, wandered in that one memory, memory of meeting the Commander.

She chose the front assault, mentally asking the ‘Cole’ entity to perhaps save scouts from the Mountain Pass. She never was good with sacrifices. Then, after they started the attack, she noticed the Knight-Commander on the front lines, attacking the Terror demon and in that moment, she saw red. When she returned mostly to her senses, the demons were gone and the smaller rift was closed. She still remembered how he looked at her then, with a mix of grief, admiration and… Fear. Last one broke her heart a bit, but she knew she had no right to be angry. He was in Kirkwall, probably in the center of that hell, if Varric’s “Tale of the Champion” held any truth. Meaning a lot of fear of the unknown in result, including the Anchor.

Another reason why she had no right to complain was the fact that they barely knew each other. In her whole life they saw each other four times, one of which she split his lip with a headbutt. So, all in all, not that great of a score. Still, she couldn’t help the fact that he was her type, like those knights and princes on the white horses from fairy tales. She liked his eyes, she liked his eyes… She definitely enjoyed his voice.

Maker, she was already blushing, just at the thought! That mortified her a bit, knowing that Catherine will tease her sooner or later.

Her guardians. That was another thing to think about. Four of them, with different temperaments. All victims of the same cycle. Cycle that threatened to swallow Rose too. All of them by her side from her infancy basically. She definitely considered them family, more than her own blood mostly, sans Ceylon. All of them normal people thrown into chaos. And now Rose was going in their steps, by becoming the wielder of the Anchor.

Hopefully she would stop the Cycle. For them.

Still, she didn’t feel bad about seeing them as family, if anything it filled her with only warmth. Catherine, teasing yet protecting, like an older sister. Iori, teaching and wise, like an uncle. Shi – Hunter, harsh and stern yet caring, like a mother. And Kaaras, certainly the most fatherly of the group. She liked it, having a semblance of family, having someone who Rose could trust and who trusted her. And while most would think of voices in your head as something wrong, she noticed it gave her strength to persevere. That way…

- “You would never be alone. Warm and kind, kind and warm, a family, better than blood one. You love them and they love you. Five became one, how?” - a young teen boy appeared from nowhere, leaning against the table in the corner. His clothing was closer in look to a scarecrow than a legitimate part of garment. He also wore a wide brimmed hat that hid most of his features from some angles. His voice was similar.

Cole.

- “Yes, that’s me. Hello. But also not? And what’s a cinnamon bun?” - the boy tilted his head, his big eyes looking inquisitively at Rose.

- “A long story. Still, I’m glad you are here Cole.” - she smiled kindly. She of course knew of Compassion, the stories of him told by all the guardians, even Hunter. A kind spirit that wants to help, even if his methods aren’t always standard. She looked around the cottage, trying to find her-.

- “Bag? Here,” - he held out her bag in his hands, the bronco leather as worn as it was the last time she saw it. - “I took it so you can have it back. They wouldn’t, too suspicious. But you’re not suspicious, you try to help. Like me.” - Cole smiled as he pulled two letters in black envelopes and two vials of purple liquid. - “That will bring the silence, no? To both of them. And then they will need to help.” - he hummed.

- “Yes, and I would be grateful if you would deliver it to them.” - Rose said between yawns, grateful that his semi omnipotence shortened the explanations.

- “Will do. The song, different than the one that’s here. More painful. Can’t forget, can’t escape. Maker, let her succeed and if not, may she return to my side, so we shall pass together, he says. But he doesn’t mean it. He would do anything so she won’t suffer. But he can’t do much, trapped in that gold.” - another Riddle, one which Rose didn’t want to interpret, too tired for it so she simply nodded while laying back down on her pillows.

- “Yes, please. Good luck and goodnight.” - she yawned again, tucking herself in. She didn’t hear the response, falling asleep quickly thereafter.

That brings one of the points off the list, if it works. Missed that cinnamon bun by the way, he’s still so adorable – Warrior chuckled

And it brings an enormous advantage, both political and in terms of espionage. - Poet mused, too engrossed in his thoughts.

Still, what’s Cole doing here and not in Therinfal, that worries me. Changes can be unpredictable. - Sage worried greatly.

Chapter 12: To work?

Chapter Text

Next day was way more tense for Rose. After awakening, not only did she startle a poor elf servant just with her presence, there was a line of people before the cottage, all regarding her in reverence as some sort of Herald of Andraste. Rose didn’t like the thought, not one bit. She wasn’t a religious person, not when that same religion hurt many people. Nor did she like the ‘Herald’ bit. It pointed at a person of higher position, maybe even a leadership one. All around, a bad feeling. Still, Rose didn’t have much choice, as she quickly dressed herself before going through the village right to the Chantry, as she was told. She dreaded meeting Cassandra again, mostly because what would happen now? The breach stopped growing, yes, but she was still a suspect, no? Still, it wasn’t as if she had a choice in this situation. Nor would she run away, too much stood on this to abandon it because of her own little fears.

With a small sigh she entered the Chantry, inspecting the architecture of it as she went further to the source of all the noise, deep in the building, behind a small wooden door – a massive argument was having a place. Still, with little steps Rose looked around first, admiring the craft of the stone, as well as the sturdiness. It was probably the most defensive building in this village.

Good instincts kiddo, that’s for sure.

Just as she opened the doors from where the noises came, she got their attention. The Chancellor, the same that openly condemned her in forward camp, along with Cassandra, a Redheaded woman in a purple hood - Leliana and two templar knights were now staring right at her as she entered.

- “Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to capital for trial!” - the clergyman screeched, visibly furious.

- “Disregard that and leave us.” - Cassandra ordered and this time, knights listened, saluting as they left the room, which only infuriated the man more.

- “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.” - he bit out with venom in his voice. Had stares been lethal, the lady Seeker, in all her glory, would’ve dropped dead right then and there.

- “The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.” - was the only answer that came from the black haired woman.

- “I did everything I could to close the breach. It almost killed me, no?” - Rose butted in, feeling a bit annoyed with the fact that her achievement was so disregarded.

Not to mention the fact that without you they are sh*t out of luck – Warrior mumbled.

- “Yet you live! A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.” - was Roderick’s only rebuttal.

- “Have a care, Chancellor! The breach is not the only threat that we face.” - Cassandra chided, visibly frustrated with the old man.

- “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.” - Leliana countered, having finally joined the conversation.

- “I am a suspect?” - Chancellor gasped.

- “You, and many others.”

- “Yet not the prisoner? That blasted woman who is probably the cause of all of it?!”

- “I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her for help.” - Cassandra countered, now more calm.

- “So her survival, that thing on her hand—all a coincidence?” - the man sneered.

- “I see this more as providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour.” - Cassandra exclaimed. Meanwhile Rose already felt her head starting to ache. Not only was she not a suspect, they wanted to make a saint or even worse. Still, she knew there was no escape, nor would she look for it. She had to help her guardians, and if that meant allying oneself with a bunch of religious fanatics, so be it.

- “Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide.” - she recited the Chant, grateful for all the lessons on it from Kaaras.

- “We lost everything…” - Cassandra sighed with grief. - “Then, out of nowhere, you came”

- “The breach remains, and your mark is still our only hope of closing it.” - Leliana explained calmly. She seemed unbothered, but it was all a facade. Her eyes burned with rage, she wanted revenge on the person responsible, that was obvious.

- “That is NOT for you to decide.” - Chancellor screamed, red on his face.

Cassandra cut him off by slamming a large book on the table, on the cover of it was an embellishment of an eye with wisps of fire radiating from it, depiction of the constellation of Visus – “the Watchful Eye”, all decorations were silver in color, whether it was iron or silver, Rose didn’t know.

- “Do 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. We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval.” - the warrior woman jabbed her finger at Roderick accusingly, which made the man leave in a huff.

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

- “But we have no choice: we must act now.” - Cassandra exclaimed with fervor. - “With you at our side, Lady Trevelyan.” - she added, turning to Rose.

Rose felt trapped, too much attention and responsibilities were now looming over her, the proverbial chains standing at the ready to bind her to this Maker forsaken duty. Yet she grit her teeth and nodded with a slight smile.

- “If you’re truly trying to restore the order… I shall help as much as I can.” - she sighed, trying to fight off the migraine that was starting behind her eyes.

- “That is the plan, yes.” - Leliana hummed.

- “Help us fix it before it’s too late, I beg you.” - Cassandra outreached her hand towards the girl. Rose took it quickly, shaking firmly to show no weakness, not yet at least. The dark haired woman smiled kindly, her scarred cheek lifting a bit.

- “Then for now, this meeting is done. We shall call for you when you are needed, lady Herald.” - Leliana bowed slightly before leaving the room first. She looked very busy, which was understandable. The gossip around Divine’s left hand was always just dismissed as hearsay, but Rose knew. That woman was a dangerous individual, not only a veteran of Fifth Blight, but also the spymaster of this organization. If she willed, Rose would be dead in a moment.

Over my… Well, I don’t have a body, but still. I’d rather talk with Orlesian nobility than let you get hurt – Warrior protested.

While Leliana is a firm character, her actions are dictated by the greater good. As long as you are on her side, nothing should befall you. - Kaaras explained

Still, she is scary. - Iori added.

Rose nodded absentmindedly, before leaving the room second, leaving the Seeker alone in there. She left the chantry in a hurry, not wanting to suffer any more looks from the onlookers. The cold air helped lessen her pain a bit, calming the inflamed wounds. She looked around from this hill, taking the views below. There were many things she still needed to do before she was able to get some rest. Fortunately, she knew exactly what needed to be done, due to her guardians preparing her for it.

First quartermaster, or rather quarter mistress in this regard, Threnn. She gave the girl a requisition form for iron and lumber, the location of both known to Rose instinctively. While moving to the apothecary her mind recalled all those sleepless nights in her study, spent on drawing and studying all the maps necessary, the collection of all experiences of her guardians encased in a collection of maps with all points of interest marked. Haven, Hinterlands, Val Royeaux (including the place where the best beds are), Crestwood, The Western Approach, Storm Coast, the Fallow Mire, Forbidden Oasis, Exalted Plains, The Emerald Graves, Emprise du Lion, Hissing Wastes – all locations she never knew, places she didn’t know the exact location of, yet she knew all about their secrets, their contents. Astrariums, Oculariums, Shards, Red Lyrium, Maker – even dragons!

Rose shivered slightly at the thought, entering the apothecary hut, approaching the man inside.

- “Yes? Ah, it’s you. Good to see you up, Herald.” - he bit out, visibly annoyed with something.

- “Can I help you somehow?” - she asked, as if she didn’t know exactly what he needed. And she was right, he – Adan, asked her to find the notes of his master, providing that they should be around the abandoned hut outside of Haven. Rose knew they were there, or at least had a strong feeling about it. She promised the apothecary his resources with a smile and went off to find them, keeping in mind to also approach the blacksmith on the way. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice anyone calling her before she felt a slight push on her hip.

- “Flowers? Are you there? Should I be getting worried?” - Varric asked, slightly concerned, even if he was still smiling.

- “Oh, Varric. Hi.” - she smiled kindly at him, still going her way, but now slowing down a bit so he doesn’t have to chase her. - “I’m fine, just… Many thoughts.”

- “Well, many residents mostly mean many thoughts. Or did you fix that… Condition?”

- “No I didn’t, and It is not a condition that needs fixing. They help me and I don’t appreciate your tone. - she huffed.

- “Here here, sorry Flowers. I was just worried that the freaky green hand could’ve invited some more guests. Not to mention that our last Kirkwall meeting wasn’t as… Full as I would’ve preferred. I still have many questions about that time, and about Hunter.” - the dwarf lowered his voice to a semi whisper.

- “I can’t tell anything about Hunter, mostly because they don’t share much. They are a very private person, you know? As for that moment, I do remember it. I wasn’t in control, but I was watching. So I can shine some light on that, but why would you want that? Planning another book?” - she asked, genuinely curious.

- “A plan for one perhaps, though the whole Breach debacle will slow it down. Other than that, pure friendly curiosity. With a sprinkle of worry, as it seemed bad back then. You went stone cold. And the fact you knocked out so many of them with that one… What even was that?”

- “I need to keep some of my cards hidden for now, so I can’t say. But it took a lot out of me, so it’s not a parlor trick I can repeat often. And it has a lot of drawbacks. Mostly – it doesn’t discriminate. Hits all affected by Fade or lyrium.” - she explained softly. She didn’t lie, it took her a week to recuperate the damage she inflicted on herself with Spellstring back then. And the only reason why Varric was unaffected was because as a dwarf he was cut off from fade, while staying away from lyrium. Rose doubted this lucky combination would happen often. Nor would she want to use it anyway, this kind of action was powerful, but it was also monstrous. She didn’t know the whole story from Hunter, as they barely shared anything, but she remembered one thing clearly.

Spellsong was created to uplift. My heart perverted it to destroy. There is nothing I can do to atone, nor would I want to. I shall pay the price after the hunt.

Those words were enough to keep Rose away from playing with this magic. She mostly used it for eluvian transportation, but that also was a rare situation. Mostly this ability stayed hidden, as it should, locked in a box.

- “sh*t. Yes, now I see why. I’ll leave it in the unknown, better to not tempt anyone.” - he whispered. - “And where are you going now, you busy-bee?”

- “To the abandoned cottage to get notes for Adan, then a bit further into the wilds to get resources for Threnn… Next a blacksmith, after that I will probably go to sleep, unless something else will require my attention.”

- “That’s one busy schedule, lady Herald. Right, how do you feel about that?” - he asked as they passed through the gate, venturing through the training grounds into the forest.

- “I don’t like it, Varric. Not one bit. Being a religious figure ends up in two ways. Either you have to do everything because no one will do a thing without you having to monitor, or you end up as a puppet. Both unpleasant.” - she spat out. - “Still, officially I am a Herald of Andraste, sent here by the Maker himself, to save the world, yada yada, et cetera.” - Rose added with a huff. Varric chuckled warmly.

- “Couldn’t tell it better myself. Though you had unbelievable luck so maybe there is a grain of truth in all of that, who knows.”

- “Who knows indeed.”

They fulfilled her chores rather quickly, and after a quick pint at the tavern, Rose retreated to her small cottage, going to bed instantly, tired both physically and mentally. She loathed the thought of another day, yet she knew that this would be her life now and she was determined to win against the Fate itself. She would break this cycle.

Chapter 13: New Beginnings

Chapter Text

Before Rose was set out to go to the Hinterlands, she first decided to get to know those who would go with her, as well as Leliana, Cullen and Josephine. Partially because she was curious, but the other part was because Kaaras refused to talk anything about them, citing that to know someone, you should get to know them personally, not by the word of the mouth. At least, she would be one person less, as Varric was basically her bestie, visiting her every evening to goad her into playing another round of Wicked Grace or just for a drink.

Because of that, it quickly came out to the public that their revered Herald is an extreme lightweight, getting drunk from one pint of the weakest beer. But it wasn’t her fault! She never drank as Kaaras said it clouds the mind.

With a quick sigh, she decided that the first person she wanted to meet would be Josephine, which was an excellent coincidence, as the Ambassador’s runner called for Rose a few minutes ago, so it would be appropriate to visit her now. Also she was very curious about the Antivan woman, her hair was always meticulously styled while her gold and black clothes screamed opulence, as well as complimenting her darker skin tone. She seemed nice, for a politics expert. Though Rose assumed it was normal for diplomats to appear nice, that way they can negotiate easier. Like Kaaras. Though Kaaras was a qunari so he would’ve needed to do it especially well, no? - Unfortunately, the man in question remained quiet, as her guardians mostly did lately.

The girl passed through the village, going to the Chantry where the Ambassador’s office was placed. She eloquently avoided most of those who would’ve wished to talk with her, using the meeting as an excuse, but in truth – she was scared. Their eyes looked at her like a god, not a person. That seemed wrong to Rose, so she mostly avoided those people, as much as she could. She quickly knocked on the office doors in the chantry and went in. Josie was fortunately alone this time, visibly awaiting her visit, if one could deduce from two cups of tea and tray of biscuits placed on her desk.

- “Oh, Lady Herald! You’re finally here.” - she exclaimed with a slight bow, her antivan accent apparent in every word, most visibly in her r’s.

- “Please, just Rose. No herald and definitely not Lady Trevelyan, at least in the private setting. I will settle for Lady Herald in public.” - Rose sighed, sitting down in the hair opposite of Josephine.

- “While I think that would be most discourteous, I will follow your wishes in private, Rose. - the Ambassador smiled kindly while scribbling in her clipboard. - Definitely not the surname? Are you in bad standing with your family?

- “No, I was chosen as heir, so they don’t hate me, well maybe save for Jacob. I just… Did you know there were four Trevelyan children from my father's main line?” - Rose paused with a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. - “My youngest brother departed earlier to the Maker’s side… Which was a result of our father’s ‘education’,” - she spat out the word with venom – “It wasn’t the sickness, the boy was pretty much beaten, starved and tortured to death. All because he enjoyed art of writing more than the art of warfare.”

- “Maker… My sincerest Apologies, had I known-”

- “Had you known, you wouldn’t have asked, yes. But now you know. And as such, I will not respect anyone who calls me by my surname if they are part of the Inquisition’s inner circle.” - Rose channeled her inner diplomat, choosing eloquent words as chains for her fuming mind.

- “I shall inform the others at once, as well as severing more ‘substantial’ cooperation with the house.”

- “That won’t be necessary. While I hate Jacob and my father… Ceylon, my oldest brother, is now working as the family’s representative in my stead. He’s trustworthy and kind. We can work with him, if you let me write a private message to send along with the official inquiry I think we can even come on top of the trade. Just please be mindful. He is a mage, if your or Leliana’s channels didn’t know. I will not tolerate sending any templars close to him.” - the girl explained while collecting her mind and blocking her heart. It went easier when she grabbed a biscuit and began nibbling on it, the buttery taste helping to take the mind off of things.

- “At once La-! Rose. I will do as you ask.” - Josephine smiled genuinely this time. - “Still, I would like to ask you some questions, if I can. Mostly to establish one ‘truth’, so to say, in order to strengthen our diplomatic position.”

- “With pleasure.” - Rose drank some tea as they began chatting away. Only after 3 hours was she allowed to leave the office, drained yet still with duties to meet others, as time was ticking. Fortunately, she found Leliana quite quickly, as she was in the tent on the hill, 20 steps from the Chantry at most. She seemed engrossed in her reports and secret notes, standing above a map that was stabbed to the plank that held it, so it wouldn’t fly away. The rogue approached the Spymaster quite quickly.

- “Lady Leliana.” - she bowed her head instinctively.

- “Lady Rose. Good to see you.” - it seems the world traveled fast, either that or Lady Nightingale spied on everyone, which wasn’t that much far-fetched. - “I had wondered when you would approach me.”

- “Well, I do like to know those who I will be working with personally, as much as it is possible at least. I know I wont get to know every servant by name, but it is rather obvious that we should get well acquainted, even if only to cover our own bases.” - instinctively, Rose knew that this approach would be best. Leliana was a pragmatist at heart, she didn’t need a friend, at least not yet. She needed a trustworthy ally, for now and Rose could work with that. She even preferred it in place of diplomacy. Knowing one’s intentions was the best weapon one could get in the Game, be it on court or behind curtains.

- “That is a wise choice I would say. Our scouts sent out an additional report about Hinterlands, apparently there are rumors that a dragon is somewhere close to Redcliffe, but we weren’t able to confirm nor deny it. Please look into it if you have the resources.”

- “Will do. If any more things arise, don’t hesitate to send a raven directly.” - Rose pondered for a while, thinking on what to say, yet the Nightingale was quicker than her.

- “Don’t force yourself to banter, I know you are scared of me. All will come with time, now excuse me, I have some ledgers to look through.” - the spymaster nodded and went off, leaving the rogue all alone in the tent.

She sees all, damn, had I not known it wasn’t possible I would’ve been betting she would notice us too. - Warrior grumbled.

In her position it is natural to possess this kind of skill, you either play the Game or are played by it. - Poet explained sadly.

You could also buy her some shoes when you are in Val Royeaux. Or buy them for yourself so she can gossip. She likes that.

Rose chuckled a bit at the last comment before going straight to Solas, their resident apostate and fade expert. The bald elf was standing nearby the apothecary hut, supporting his weight with his staff, his mind focused elsewhere, probably on the Fade itself.. He was wearing quite light robes, hinting at the use of warming glyphs. He also was wearing a peculiar necklace, it looked like a part of the jaw of some animal.

Wolf.

Rose shuddered, her mind returning to the wolf from the Fade back then. They could be connected somehow, as Solas was the one stabilizing the Anchor. At the same time, Fade loved playing tricks on others, so it might’ve been just a coincidence. Quintisition provided neither confirmation nor denial, staying silent, as always.

Still, she approached the mage cheerfully, wanting to know more, something that the mage was all eager to do, educating her about the fade even back when they were deep neck in demons.

- “Good day to you Solas.” - she greeted him with a smile.

- “Good day Lady Herald.” - he answered with a slight nod. - “What brings you here? More questions about the Fade?”

- “That too, but mostly I wanted to get to know you. Better to know who’s on your six before it happens.” - she chuckled before continuing. “Still, I want to definitely know some more things about the Fade and this.” - she moved her left hand up to her eyes, the wound almost invisible, yet she could feel the energy swirling, waiting for her to wield it once more.

- “Ah yes, the Anchor itself. Quite an enigma, yet very fascinating. I still wonder about what could’ve caused it exactly,” - the elf pondered – “Sleeping here doesn’t help in answering, the Fade is too torn, too scarred to get a clear picture of past events.”

- “You willingly study the past by sleeping?” - she asked, curious.

- “Yes. That way I can see the past of places. I enjoy the ruins or old battlefields, there is much to learn from them.” - mage smiled genuinely. - “Of course I do take precautions, I set wards against intruders, as well as protecting myself from demons. Though I don’t shy away from spirits.”

- “Aren’t they the same?”

- “Yes and no. Spirits are pure, like curiosity, compassion or knowledge. They embody an ideal, and go with their nature. Like children, just with more fascinating stories.” - Solas chuckled. - “Demons meanwhile, are the same spirits but with their ideals perverted by the world beyond the veil, our world. Be it because of the wants and needs of people or just because of stronger emotion, every ideal can be perverted. Love can become desire, justice can become vengeance, knowledge… can change into pride.” - the elf paused a bit, all somber – “But with certain precautions, one can study them in their pure form. And this is what I like to do most of the time.”

- “That’s… A lot. Not in a bad way of course, just I can’t imagine something like that… But that’s probably because I’m not a mage, so I don’t experience the Fade as you do.” - she sighed wistfully.

- “There are… Ways, draughts and rituals, that would allow you to see it that way. Perhaps at a later date I could offer you something. For now I would need to ask the spirits where to look for ingredients first.”

- “Deal!” - she exclaimed with a smile. - “Say hello to the spirits!” - she spoke as she ran off, her mind now up in the clouds. She always wondered how Kaaras or Iori saw the world and maybe this time she would! She felt gleeful, running through the gates to meet with Cassandra.

The warrior woman was easy to find, her posture recognizable, along with the short haircut. She was mauling a training dummy, her attacks measured yet hiding some frustration in them. With a groan she attacked one more time before sheathing her weapon.

- “Did I made a good decision.” - she asked, turning to Rose – “What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I revered my whole life. In the future they may brand me a traitor, a madwoman… And worst of thing, they may be right.”

- “History is written by those victorious. So, to not let this happen, let’s overcome this challenge.” - Rose answered truthfully, leaning against the other training dummy for support. - “Also it is one’s conviction that dictates what one does. You wouldn’t be the Divine’s Right Hand if you didn’t believe in her cause. It is the same thing with Inquisition. You… We all do it because we believe this is the right thing to do.”

- “I believe… I believe you are innocent, in terms of the Conclave. One person couldn’t cause that explosion, not without resources that are easily traceable. I also believe that more is going on here than we can see, that’s obvious.” - she explained plainly – “I also believe, unfortunately, that no one else cares to do anything about it, meaning it is our duty to help. They could’ve stood in the fire and complained it was hot without acting, for Maker’s sake!” - Seeker sighed - “But is it the Maker’s will? I can only guess.”

- “So you don’t think I’m chosen? Good. One less person to treat me like an ideal, not a person.” - Rose grumbled.

- “I think you were sent to help us. I hope you were. But Maker’s help takes many forms. Sometimes it’s difficult to discern who it truly benefits, or how.”

- “Either way, you had to do it. It was the best decision you could make at that moment with all the knowledge you had.” - Rose changed the subject, hoping that the older woman will quickly resign from those delusions.

- “You cited the Chant back then… Does that mean you believe in the Maker?” - alas, it wouldn’t happen, Lady Seeker was determined to know, something apt to a person being an ex member of ‘Seekers of Truth’ – Rose assumed.

- “I do believe he exists, that I can say.” - whether he is a god, is a completely different matter that Rose won’t touch with a ten foot pole, but that part she conveniently omitted to the older woman who seemed religious enough for both of them.

She bid her goodbyes before getting ready to prepare for their ride. It wasn’t as if she was avoiding someone, someone who’s orders rang out from like 30 feet away from her, in the training grounds. No, that would be preposterous and hearsay. Absolutely not. It wasn’t true that Rose was avoiding the Commander. It was just a coincidence that the only moment they were in the same place was when she was introduced to the advisors officially, with Cullen as the military advisor to the Herald, as well as being Commander of Inquisition’s Troops. And she had left that meeting quite quickly, just after dispatching them their duties. Yes, all a big coincidence.

And just when she curiously looked in Commander’s direction she got caught by him, his golden eyes staring straight at her, burning a hole in her soul, leaving her mind empty. She felt her heart falter once again, as well as her cheeks flushing. Still, she grit her teeth and walked forward to him. She needed to meet all so she would meet all. And hopefully not make an ass out of her.

Maker watch over her.

Maker watch over us all – Warrior giggled

Chapter 14: Welcome in the Wilds

Chapter Text

Journey to the Hinterlands thankfully let her focus on something else, forgetting about the conversation with Commander, even if Catherine insisted on reminding Rose every few hours about it in some playful dig.

Come oooon, every person falls sooner or later. I just didn’t take you for a golden boy aficionado.

That wasn’t true, Rose was not falling for anyone. She had a job to do and she would do it. There, over and done with. Thankfully they were close to the Inquisition’s camp, their first goal of the journey, where Leliana’s scouts were awaiting them – Rose and her 3 companions in form of talkative Varric, grumpy Cassandra and Solas, who most often then not stayed silent, unless he wanted to talk about history of the ruins they were passing or about the nature of the Fade itself. It seemed he was quite one dimensional in that regard, not that it bothered her. She had enough chaos with Warrior prattling about foolish things.

They are only foolish if they aren’t true and trust me, I know all about it. Your warrior was a lover of all sizes and kinds at your age. I even snagged a big hunky qu-!

Rose almost shouted out loud, but in reality she just jumped a bit on Ayatan, visibly startled as well as disgusted.

- “Something wrong Flowers?” - Varric rode up on his ride, a smaller pony.

- “Just… Bad thoughts. That doesn't seem to run away, no matter what I do.” - she sighed in annoyance, hearing the distinct cackle of the warrior.

- “Know the sort. But be positive, soon we will have way more things to worry about. Finding madame Giselle is just a beginning you know? From all my adventures with Hawke I know one thing. It’s never only ‘one thing’ to do. One moment you go to find a treasure from the deep roads map, the other not only are you ass deep in darkspawn, but also meet a dwarf that froze an ogre over and one of your friend’s brother becomes a Grey Warden.” - Varric chuckled before continuing - “Things like that just happen, and all you can do is go along or swim against. I mostly go along, as I’m an awful swimmer, short legs and all.”

That brought a giggle out of Rose, alleviating her tension a bit. They already noticed the camp on the hill in the horizon, The Inquisition’s banner flying in the wind. It seemed well staffed, with at least two dozen men and many tents. While inquisition didn’t have much, apparently they didn’t skimp on preparation after all, which was good. There was much to do, all the tasks already grouped in Rose’s mental list, separated by regions. The girl was quite thankful for getting the gift of memory from Sage, otherwise she would probably forget half of it and walk into dragon’s lair probably, just by accident. She was very prone to getting lost in places she didn’t know the layout previously, it happened many times when she was a kid and went off to the city with her family, one moment she was with them, the other whole city was mobilized to look for an adventurous tyke with way too big of an ambition for their little booties. Gratefully she had the Quintisition to help, whether it was big cities that Kaaras knew, wilds that were Hunter’s and Catherine’s domain or ruins, in which Iori thrived, all of them stopped being labyrinths for her quite quickly. After Kirkwall she even learned a location spell, just in case.

She dismounted Ayatan as they arrived in camp, giving the reins to the closest scout. A dwarven woman approached her saluting, her hair red, wearing the Inquisition’s uniform.

- “Greetings Lady Herald!” - she exclaimed cheerfully. - “Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I – all of us here – we’ll do whatever we can to help.”

- “Harding, huh? Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?” - Varric stepped in, a sh*t eating grin on his face.

- “Can’t say I have. Why?”

- “You’d be Harding in… Oh, never mind.” - Varric chuckled, accompanied by Cassandra’s disgusted groan. It probably was a pun, but Rose didn’t get it.

- “It’s a pleasure to meet you, but we should get to business.” - the Herald replied, mentally trying to find the beginning of this one big yarn ball of problems.

- “ We came to secure horses from Redcliffe’s old horsemaster. I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet’s herd were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But with the mage-templar fighting getting worse, we couldn’t get to Dennet. Maker only knows if he’s even still alive. Mother Giselle’s at the crossroads helping refugees and the wounded. Our latest reports say that the war’s spread there too. Corporal Vale and our men are doing what they can to help protect the people, but they won’t be able to hold out very long. You best get going. No time to lose.” - the dwarf woman reported before saluting again and walking off to her station. She was right, time was of the essence, especially at the Crossroads. The more they dallied, the more people would get hurt.

- “Let’s go then.” - she mumbled before going down the hill, passing a small abandoned hut on the way. Her instincts called to pilfer it, but that would wait. First she needed to make sure people were safe, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if someone got hurt because she wanted one more elfroot plant or iron ore. The collective mania would still happen, just later, after securing people.

The sounds of battling quickly reached their ears, coming from the clearing in front of them. Both templars and rogue apostates fought against each other, both factions pelted by the scouts arrows, meaning they weren’t friendly. Normal for mages yet weird for Templars, even if they abandoned the Chantry they shouldn’t attack non mages.

Still, Rose just drew her bow on the closest enemy, her arrow swiftly flying through his eye. Cassandra ran forward, bolstered by Solas’ barrier spell and the offensive firepower of Varric’s Bianca – a repeating crossbow. They quickly dispatched mages, but templars were harder to deal with, more organized and armored. As one swordsman came closer to Rose, she jumped back, spilling some smoke powder to hide in the cloud. The rogue quickly unsheathed her dagger, slitting the enemy’s throat in the darkness, a slight shiver of disgust coming through her mind accompanied by a wave of nausea, yet she didn’t falter. She had to look strong, she was the Herald. That was what she was repeating to herself till they secured the crossroads entirely, prompting the refugees and soldiers to come out of their hiding places to establish a proper camp and hub.

Some clergy members came out of the hut nearby, minor sisters accompanied by one chantry mother, recognizable by her peculiar outfit, red and white, contrasting with her darker skin. Mother Giselle, Rose presumed, the person they needed to contact.

The Herald looked around the encampment first, assessing the state of it. It didn’t look good – many refugees, barely any food, she also didn’t see any furs on them, despite the fact it was getting cold. This didn’t bode well, not for anyone.

Rose quickly approached the revered Mother, bowing slightly out of habit.

- “Mother Giselle, I presume?” - she asked, just to be sure.

- “And you must be the one they call Herald of Andraste then?” - the woman was Orlesian, which was obvious with her heavy accent.

- “I was told you asked for me, so here I am.” - the girl answered while accompanying the clergywoman while they walked through the encampment.

- “I know the Chantry denounced you, I even know who exactly pulled the strings. I won’t lie, some of them did it out of selfish need, but not all. Others were scared of what you are, what you represent. Some are overtaken by grief from losing so many people.”

- “It was a tragedy, may they rest peacefully by the Maker’s side.” - Rose tried to be polite, even if those words meant nothing to her, they could help others. There was no need to kick those that suffer already.

- “Fear makes us desperate, but not without reason, hopefully.” - Giselle sighed before continuing. - “Go to them in Val Royeaux. Convince them that you want to help, that you aren’t a demon they are painting you to be. Give them something, someone to believe in. They may or may not listen, but you will appeal at least to some. Which is better than none you get if you don’t try.”

- “You make it sound so simple.” - Rose whispered, feeling the responsibility.

- “You don’t need to convince them. Doubt is enough. No faction is ever fully unified. Their discord will give you time to bolster your strength.”

- “That’s more of a political view than one that I would expect from a Chantry Mother.” - Giselle giggled at that sentence.

- “All is politics, from the smallest disputes to the biggest wars. Some just call it by different name.” - she pondered before turning to The Herald. - “I don’t know if your arrival was fate or just coincidence, but frankly it doesn’t matter. What those people need now is hope, and that is something you can do in either circ*mstance. I shall go to Haven, maybe my knowledge and contacts can help somehow. Maker watch over you, child.” - the clergywoman nodded before going on her way, leaving Rose more confused about it all. So many people talked about faith over and over, and yet Mother Giselle – an embodiment of a faith directed person – was talking about hope, not caring about the truth of her nature. Though it was rather predictable, after losing the leader, with all the politics that take place, replacing the leader wasn’t their priority. It was the balance, the stability that they lacked now. Something that Inquisition, and by proxy, Rose, could provide by their actions, just basic decency.

Good. Rose disliked lying and playing a bigger person than she is. She still had to do it when meeting nobles, but for now she could just be a helpful person and it would be enough. She pondered, trying to remember all that could be done here, because why ask others if you already know. That way it would save her one trip. With a smile she ventured with her entourage, off to work, to help everyone she could.

Chapter 15: Night sky

Chapter Text

Varric regretted using his nickname rights on Flowers so quickly. Had he waited he would have known that a different name would be more apt. Busybee, as she was always doing something, even here in the Hinterlands. First she took them around the Crossroads to ask anyone and everyone that needed help. Maker, she was basically acting like a saint, except without all the praying crap, so basically a saint from all the fairy tales he read. A person that helps out of own volition.

And now that volition took them through the whole Hinterlands, only letting them rest when the moon was high and even mighty Seeker voted for setting up a camp. It seemed like the young Herald didn’t seem tired, even after all she had done.

And what didn’t she do today, that would be a more accurate question. Hunting rams, for refugees, finding apostate’s caches for resources, hunting templars and apostates, in which she suffered a mighty electrocution yet she only took a quick break. The girl seemed possessed, like if she was on a mission. In theory she was, yes, but the mission her mind held was definitely different than the one they officially got dispatched on.

The dwarf started setting up his tent, along with taking care of the firewood while his mind was miles away, pondering on the true nature of their newly appointed Herald of Andraste.

Varric assumed her behavior had to do with Quintisition, though he wasn’t sure of specifics. Unfortunately with age her poker face got only better and better, he reminisced about her awful first time playing Wicked Grace, losing catastrophically to anyone, even Fenris and Merril, as well as her pout when she not only had to pay up, but also couldn’t drink anything stronger than juice. The writer smiled while lighting up the campfire, the crackling of the fire in tune with night sounds of nature.

Varric pondered about it all, about pros and cons, yet still, thanks to her actions he already had a draft ready for his another story, with the working title of : “all this sh*t is weird.” Which it admittedly was, the breach as well as the girl herself. The dwarf knew she wasn’t literally possessed, he had Blondie check up on her back before he went mad and he found no ‘Fade interference’, whatever it meant. Despite her weirdness, Varric trusted her. While holding her secrets, she did wear her heart of gold on her sleeve. He appreciated that, a stark difference to most nobles he met, with heads so far up their own asses they might’ve as well breathed their own farts.

The Quintisition stuff was also interesting, now that he remembered. Especially the cycle. They did mention it multiple times, yet never elaborated, not even Poet who was the most open out of them. But the name suggested something repeating over and over. They planned to break it so something that touched them personally.

Varric let his writer’s imagination run wild, scribbling in his journal, writing loose ideas and theories that held no sense. Many personalities, all different yet with the same goal, all that want to ‘spare Rose the same fate’. Meaning that probably failure meant the girl would become like them, an existence in someone’s mind. That was a grim thought, but it wasn’t purely batsh*t insane.

The only important conundrum was what in the nug’s arse was the ‘cycle’ itself, what it represented. He didn’t feel any things repeating, neither back in Kirkwall nor here, though he would assume he wouldn’t know even know if it was repeating, seeing as he wasn’t connected to it probably, like a side character from a book, appearing in some plot points yet not fully involved, just going along with the plot. A place widely familiar to Varric, seeing as the same happened with Hawke, just with more explainable crap and less demons and rifts, though way more qunari so he was glad to exchange.

It bothered the dwarf a bit, to not know the answer. Not because it was dangerous, though it was, but because he loved a mystery that could be solved. Those who couldn’t seemed like a cheap trick of the writer who didn’t bother to think about what his story would entail. An easy cop-out, just for the sake of the thrill, bit of an insult to his trade actually. While some mysteries could remain unsolved, they shouldn’t be on the main spot then, that frustrates the reader. It frustrated him.

Varric looked around the camp, noticing that most of his companions retired, save for Rose, who was now sitting on the log with back turned to the fire. Her lips were moving, yet no noise came out. A normal person would start worrying, thinking that she was not right in the mind. Varric was admittedly, not a normal person, not with his all portfolio of batsh*t insane things.

But then he thought about reconsidering his stance, seeing as the girl twisted in weird motions in one moment before standing up, calm and collected. Only then did she turn around, her eyes measuring all the surrounding perimeter.

- “Well, that will be a nice night shift.” - she murmured with fervor unfamiliar to Rose’s temperament. Meaning it was-

She smiled widely at the dwarf before coming over in stride.

- “Well who do we have here? My second favorite dwarf, in the flesh!” - It was indeed the Warrior, bold and brash as always, hugging Varric with bear strength. Dwarf pondered where that lithe girl would find so much grip but he didn’t dare ask.

- “Warrior! Been some years since we last saw each other.” - he exclaimed, not too loud to not rouse Solas or Cassandra. He didn’t think it would be wise to show them this sight, not when they didn’t completely trust the girl. - “What brings you here?”

- “Night shift, plain and simple. Rosie needs to nap and I’m all eager to have some freedom in the meantime. Poet and Sage could too, but they… Well it is different to bear tit* when you had a dick your whole life, you understand?” - it felt weird to hear such expletives from a girl he knew to be the most polite person, save maybe for lady Montilyet.

- “True. But won’t that still tire Flowers out? I mean, it is still her.”

- “You would think so, but no. If she takes the Fade-nap she doesn’t experience anything I can do. I could fight a dragon and the only way she would’ve known was if I got hurt. Or if you spilled the beans. - she growled playfully, brandishing the dagger from her boot expertly. Yep, definitely not the innocent Flowers.

- “Dragons? You’re aiming high I see.”

- “Dragons are easy,” - she laughed, sitting beside him near the campfire. - “Simple beasts, just bigger and with sharper teeth.” - she sighed while stretching a bit.- “ There are worse things that lurk. Magisters, stray magic bullsh*t… Qun reeducators.”

- “You’re talking from experience?”

- “Mostly, never met a reeducator yet, but met someone who had the displeasure of experiencing them.

- “Never knew you had experience of Par Vollen variety.” - he prodded.

- “Not Par Vollen, not that deep.” - Warrior chuckled before taking a deep drink from her waterskin. As he did the same she added the punchline. - “Just f*cked a qunari spy once or twice.”

That made Varric sputter and choke on the water, firm hits on the back necessary to get the airway back in order.

- “You did what?! Bu-but how? I mean, no offense but…”

- “I wasn’t always a guest in her mind you know? I had a body. And a great set of knockers to fit.” - she huffed before continuing, more somber - “And then… Well, then I did some things, bad and good… And now I’m here, as Rosie’s mental auntie. Or sister. We didn’t work it out yet.”

Varric got a distinct feeling that Warrior wouldn’t elaborate what that meant, nor did he want to pry. From his experience when people wanted to say something, they would either say it or hide it. If they said it shortly then it meant that nothing more would be given. For now, he would honor it.

- “So she has you, auntie slash sister… She has Poet, who has a motherly aura, but you said he’s a guy so fatherly would work better… And Sage is who?” - he asked, again scribbling in his notes.

- “Sage is the weird uncle that has peculiar interests.”

- “And Hunter?” - Varric spat out before he could even think about it. He instantly noticed Warrior-Rose getting stiffer, the tension was now palpable.

- “We don’t talk about Hunter. Hunter doesn’t like it. So we stay away. Something I advise you to follow, Varric. You wouldn’t like to be their object of interest. And as they say.” - she hummed, before splitting the log with her bare hands and throwing half into the campfire. - “When you stare into the abyss long enough… It stares right back.” - the dwarf got shivers on the back of his neck, stopping writing at once.

- “Warning taken. Though, you can’t exactly blame me for curiosity. You are the impossibility that most writers can only dream about. Not that I will write about you, in particular. But the premise itself is quite fascinating.” - he sighed, collecting his things. It was getting quite late and from their eyes he could deduce that he wouldn’t get more answers tonight.

- “Goodnight Varric. Would say sweet dreams, but dwarves don’t dream, no? So just have a good rest pal.” - Warrior responded, not looking at him, hands on the bottle of tea Rose brewed a few hours ago.

- “Goodnight Warrior.” - only a sigh with a small nod answered, as the dwarf retired to his tent, sleep claiming him easily, despite all the questions he had. For that, he has not heard the warriors last words that night, easily drowned out in the ambiance.

- “A starry night like this brings memories, no? Only thing I miss is a warm body and a bottle of Maraas-Lok.” - she hummed, looking at the moon in deep thought.

Chapter 16: Proper manners

Chapter Text

While Rose would prefer to remain in the Hinterlands longer, seeing as many more people needed her help, she did get a message from advisors that her presence was required in Haven ‘at once’, so she packed up her things and went back along with the rest of her group.

Through the whole road back she bickered with Cassandra and Solas, pondering on the mage-templar conflict. The seeker was in complete disbelief that Rose was more on the mage’s side.

- “Well, Ceylon is a mage, so I think it is appropriate for me to be on his side, I would think.” - When Herald noticed Cassandra’s confusion she quickly added – “Ceylon is my older brother, and at the moment he is the one who leads the Trevelyan house while I’m absent, thank the Maker for that. Jacob would be an awful candidate. He would ally with an archdemon even if that meant getting one up on me.”

- “If I may inquire, how is a mage the leader of the household? From what I’ve seen of the noble’s culture, magic is more feared than revered, no?” - Solas asked

- “He was in a Circle. And then rebellion happened, so I rode straight in to take him out, threatening everyone on the way. They had no choice but to obey, seeing as my family gave the best donations. Ostwick circle was way more lenient anyways, it’s not Kirkwall or Kinloch, but still. After what happened, I didn’t want to risk his safety under Templars. Who knows when they would snap.”

- “Excuse me? Mages are a danger as well, you shouldn’t put the weight of the rebellion just on Templars.” - Cassandra countered, clearly offended.

- “And I didn’t say that. It is simply a matter that I don’t have a Templar brother. And the fact that both factions are dangerous and flawed. The way the circle worked was clearly not good, seeing the mess we have now. If we were to restore it, it would’ve needed to work differently.” - Rose pondered briefly, - “Maybe in a form of College, a school rather than prison. Making them fear everything doesn’t help clearly. Nor do lyrium chains help Templars, lady Seeker. I saw myself what happens to those who take it too long, back in Kirkwall. I also saw the effects of those who get abandoned, who lose lyrium. Their addiction, the withdrawals… They die in agony mostly, and those who survive wrestle with memories. All in all, the situation was bad for both sides and it needs to change.”

The seeker didn’t answer, any response clearly dying in her throat as the Herald finished the tirade, her mind now in deep thought. It seems that Cassandra didn’t previously consider the entire conflict from that way, or at least some details differed from her vision.

- “That is quite a noble way to think about it. A good thing to strive for, but I don’t think Chantry would agree with the thought of ‘unshackled’ mages.” - Solas answered briefly.

- “Oh sod the Chantry for now. It doesn’t concern the faith, the prayers or the religion. But it does involve many people suffering just because they were born one way or another. And the other group, that got roped into a service for their whole lives just because they decided to be a templar in their childhood. I don’t know which is worse, but both are trapped, one way or another.” - Rose huffed. - “There has to be a middle ground between our prisons and the blood magic extravaganza of Tevinter. And Collegiums of Magic seem to be the closest idea.”

- “Never knew you were so outspoken about it Flowers.” - Varric chuckled, trying to lessen the atmosphere.

- “You never asked, I never said. Kirkwall was not the place to try and enact change, either Meredith would try to decapitate me or I would get roped in as blood sacrifice.”

- “From what you are saying, one could deduce that you think that the Kirkwall rebellion was inevitable, Lady Herald?” - Solas asked

- “Yes, sooner or later one side would blow. Seeing as Meredith petitioned for rite of Annulment way before Anders blew up, it was just a matter of time.” - Rose briefly stopped for a breath before continuing. - “That doesn’t mean I approve of his methods. I always strive to stop unnecessary deaths, even back then I mostly knocked out my opponents in place of killing them.”

- “You were in Kirkwall back then?” - Cassandra’s voice was but a mere whisper. - “But that was 4 years ago, meaning you were barely -!”

- “18, yes. Actually I was exactly 18, as that day was my name day.”

- “Maker…” - Seeker gasped, but Rose only shrugged, already past this day. Not that she remembered it clearly, when Hunter took over they made her forget most of it, just to protect the innocent mind of someone who never took a life before.

-”It’s in the past. I have bigger things to worry about now, like this hand.” - she took up her hand with the anchor up to her eyes, provoking some green sparks. She didn’t know what that was, the only thing that Kaaras wanted to say about it was that while it was safe, and even necessary to use, it needed to come off the moment Breach was closed for good, and that wasn’t a good prognosis.

- “Does it hurt?” - Solas got closer on his mount, grabbing her hand swiftly to inspect it briefly.

For a moment, before it was gone like a flash in the thundering sky, Rose felt an immeasurable amount of anger, before it was gone, as quickly as it appeared.

- “No, It doesn’t. Sometimes itches, but doesn’t hurt.” - that was mostly true, sometimes she felt pulses of pain, but that was only when she was closing the rifts, so probably expected side effects.

- “The anchor is getting stronger, more stable, with every rift we close. We have closed 8 of them, it would be a reasonable prediction that this amount of Fade energy could overwhelm you. I’m glad that is not the case. Still, I advise caution, along with slower tempo.” - the elf smiled kindly, letting her hand go. - “While we need to close the breach, nothing will be done if you overwork yourself.”

Rose felt bile rise in the back of her throat yet she only answered with a kind smile, distracting the group with exclamation that they are close to Haven already, as they passed through the first line of scouts. She didn’t know why she had such a reaction to Solas, it seemed natural, despite how friendly the man was. It brought her some concern, about whether she is just allergic to magic itself. Though, that shouldn’t be the case. She was interacting with Anders, Merril, and later even Ceylon and this is the first time she reacted like that. It seemed, foreign, alien even. She looked inwards with her mind's eye, asking them about it.

Not me, I don’t like magic bullsh*t, but baldy is useful.

I’m a mage, why would I be against Solas?

I assure you, I wouldn’t dare influence your reactions, Imekari. Nor would I act in such poor manners.

Hunter remained silent, not even acknowledging the question.

It seemed that for now, it would remain a mystery. Rose sped up her horse, ready to take her mind off this situation, dismounting Ayatan the moment she got close to the stables, leaving the mare to horse master Dennet while rushing towards the gates. Normally, she would probably want to waste some time by eating, washing or something but there was a flame of urgency back in her mind, as if something was terribly wrong. She didn’t know if that was connected to Solas’s touch but her theory was quickly proven wrong, accompanied by screams and yells coming from the crowd that grouped in front of the Chantry. There were both mages and templars there, visibly furious. That didn’t bode well, so Rose secretly pulled the Spellstring, just in case she needed to incapacitate a larger group if a conflict would spark.

- “Your Kind killed the Most Holy! - screamed one templar.

- “Lies – your kind let her die! - roared the mage, some sparks coming off his fingers.

- “Shut your mouth, mage! - the templar spat, ready to purge.

Just when Rose thought she would need to intervene, Commander inserted himself in the middle of the group, pushing back on both sides.

- “Knight-Captain?” - another templar choked out in disbelief.

- “This is not my title. We are not templars any longer! We are all part of Inquisition! - he roared, silencing the protests of both sides.

- “And what does that mean, exactly?” - Chancellor shrieked, his face red as a tomato. Rose didn’t know from where he slithered, but she already wanted him gone, his shrill gave her a solid migraine.

- “Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough? - Cullen seemed more tired than angry, it definitely wasn’t the first fight that sparked here and most probably it was him that had to take care of it, so the Inquisition’s forces wouldn’t kill each other.

- “I’m curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and it’s ‘Herald’,” - Roderick spat the name while pointing at rose accusatingly - “ will restore order as you’ve promised.”

- “Of course you are.” - Cullen sighed, motioning to the crowd to back off – “Back to your duties, all of you.” - he orders before standing tall and proud, right before the small clergyman. - “Mages and Templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.”

Yes and that’s a great moment to have a dick measuring contest. Come on boys, let me take out my strap-on, I’m gonna show them who’s boss. - Catherine bit out, clearly annoyed.

Not now Catherine. - Kaaras shushed her.

- “Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order.” - The Chancellor put the emphasis on authority, while smiling smugly, as if he wanted to rule. Wouldn’t happen of course, only in Tevinter does a man get permission to lead in a religious setting.

- “Who, you? Random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave?” - Cullen’s snark was getting better and better. From Tale of the Champion’s, which Rose had an opportunity to read on the returning road, he seemed more timid.

- “The rebel Inquisition and its so-called “Herald of Andraste?” I think not.” - cleric spat out.

Rose sighed, wanting this spat to be over sooner rather than later.

- “I don’t know, The Inquisition seems to become more and more like a family, albeit a bit dysfunctional, but to be frank Chantry isn’t better. Racism, discrimination, basically thinly veiled slavery…” - that brought a few gasps from the overhearing people. - “But what we do now is try to help, Chancellor. Something better than you, who does what exactly now? Except for shrieking at hard working employees of Inquisition who have more important things to do than cater to your tantrums, as this doesn’t exactly count as ‘helping’.”

- “How dare-!”

- “That’s how!” - she raised her anchor, letting off a few sparks. - “This is my authority! Without this,” - she let it spark more – “We will all die. So stop bothering my people!” - she growled. - “Or pay the consequences.” - she finished, calming the anchor instantly. - “Commander, the Chancellor will be leaving, get some people to escort him, just in case he has another bright idea.” - Rose sighed, the headache now thudding against her skull. - “After that we will expect you in the war room. To work.” - she didn’t grace them with pleasure of waiting for an answer, walking straight through the Chantry’s door, marching uninterrupted till she burst in the war room itself.

Fortunately, the room was empty yet, giving her all the chance to calm down, something she desperately needed.

YOU GO GIRL YEE!

Catherine! Leave her be, your screaming won’t help.

- “No, actually it helps a bit.” - she chuckled out loud, playing with some unplaced pins of the advisors. The golden pin with the fist was quite intricate, even if simple. She could feel her heart calming down, slowing to a stable beat. - “Care to advise a bit?”

From what we can say… For now you should try to deepen your resources and connections, but not at the price of integrity. Trust Cullen, Josephine and Leliana, they are here to help.

Well, that is one thing, but also… You will be going to Val Royeaux now. That place seems like a sanctuary wrapped in gold but is indeed a pit of vipers. Be mindful and careful.

That and pack a dress, no matter how much pain in the ass it is. You will need it. Iron tit* is a bitch, but she’s also very useful. Too useful to pass up.

There will be another ally too. They will help, in their own little way.

Rose nodded, already calm, straightening up right in the moment when the advisors arrived in the war room, starting a new council meeting.

Chapter 17: Elderflower

Chapter Text

The date of their excursion to Val Royeaux was set to the day after tomorrow, leaving them all some leeway to rest. Rose was especially thankful for that, having to mediate the conflicts the rest of the day. Now it was way too long after the sunset and yet she still didn’t even eat the dinner, having no time to do so before. As she looked in the direction of the tavern, having heard the constant bustle and noise, she decided to just forgo the meal, not in the mood for so much noise. She turned her steps in the opposite direction, intent on going straight to her cabin when she collided with something cold and metal, just like she did on her first day in Haven, and when she turned her head up, she again met those beautiful golden eyes.

- “Lady Rose, good evening!” - he greeted her while moving back a step. - “Are you alright? I hope you didn’t bruise yourself, it would be a grave crime to hurt lady Herald, even by accident. - he chuckled heartily, hand on the back of his neck.

- “No, I’m fine. Was just retiring to sleep.”

- “Without dinner? You were in the Chantry up until late and I don’t think you were coming from the Tavern now, you don’t smell of ale… N-not that I was spying on you, or anything, Maker’s breath!” - that made Rose giggle, the fact that the strong commander also had his weaknesses.

- “I’m… I’m not fine. My head hurts so being in the chaos would only make it worse. I can forgo one meal, it’s not that bad.” - she decided to be truthful, trying to find at least one person she could trust that wasn’t also her business partner. As much as Varric was a great friend, she sometimes also needed higher support.

- “Headache? Did you go to Adan with it? What I’m saying, of course you didn’t, foolish question. Come, I’ll bring you some dinner and a tincture for pain.” - he led her to his tent, his hand was very warm, heating Rose up to her very core. He also smelled faintly of oakmoss and elderflower, which made the girl even more at peace. She wondered if the cape he wore would be soft or rather scratchy, not that she would ever try. Just… Pure curiosity.

Sooner, rather than later – with the size of the Commander's strides – they entered his tent. It wasn’t a tight fit, but neither was it spacious. The biggest two things that took space were his cot, military sized and his desk, littered with many reports and parchments. He also had a small chest beneath the cot, probably for his personal belongings.

- “Please sit, I’ll bring the food and potion.” - Cullen said before leaving her alone in his space, with mind free to wander as she seated herself on the only chair in the tent, as probably sitting on his cot would seem impolite. On the other hand, it was his personal chair, Rose pondered, wouldn’t that be even more rude? What if she makes him angry? She didn’t want to be hated, not by him. She already brought some of his ire with her words about templars earlier, even if he didn’t show it.

Nothing you said was a lie, kid. Templars suffer too, that blue chain is one of the worst ways a person can go. They lose their minds, bit by bit.

- “Titan’s song, it calls to him, but he refuses to answer. He doesn’t want to be that person anymore. You make it better.” - Cole’s voice rang out from the cot as he seemingly appeared out of thin air. She didn’t even jump this time, so it was an improvement.

- “Hello Cole!” - she greeted him with a smile, her headache lessening at the sight of the kind, albeit bizarre, boy.

- “Oh, hello. You helped a lot, they thank you. Some curse you, but most thank you.” - he answered. - “He thanks you too, the dark song is gone, it worked. He begs the Maker for a day to thank you for saving him and his love.”

- “That’s good. That day will come, sooner or later.” - Rose replied. - “What will you do now?” - she asked.

- “You will choose mages, as dangerous they are, they will be worse if they fall to him. So I will probably try to help those who suffer the blue song. Maybe bring some here. Barris wants to help.”

- “Barris? Alright, I will write you a letter later, maybe that will help give you some legitimacy.” - she pondered.

- “Why am I a cinnamon roll? The red one repeats it over and over.”

Because you are sweet like a cinnamon roll, plain and simple kiddo. Would adopt you, had I possessed a body that was fully mine.

- “Thank you? I think.” - his head turned sharply to the tent’s entrance. - “He’s returning, I should go. Be careful. Be kind.” - and just like he appeared, he was now gone, without a trace.

Not a moment too soon, as a few seconds later the Commander had returned, a new leather pouch on his belt, along with two bowls of steaming stew in his hands. He put them both on the table before giving her the pouch, the content’s of which included three pain relief potions, as well as one elderflower and oakmoss poultice. She strapped the pouch to her belt, intent on using it in the privacy of her cottage later. The stew smelled of few spices, but not enough to mask the smell of the ram meat. Still, food was food so she took her bowl closer. Only then did she realize that she said nothing.

- “Ah, thank you Commander, both for food and the pouch.” - Rose smiled kindly at him as he sat in his cot, having no other place to sit. He swallowed the food he had in his mouth before replying.

- “No need for any thanks, I just know how it is sometimes, working till late… Can sympathize. Though I disapprove of your plans of abstaining from dinners. You… You have a much bigger duty than any of us. Forgoing food won’t help.” - he answered kindly, focusing more on the food, but a slight red blush was decorating his ears – from the cold, Rose assumed.

- “True. Still, I am grateful and I will pay you back, somehow, someday. Maybe after the Breach is closed, hopefully. A bottle of wine?”

- “I prefer ale or mead more, but please, no need for any gifts. I’m just helping, as we all do. Nothing needed in exchange, trust me.” - while he said that, he tensed a bit, his hand instinctively clutching the bridge of his nose.

- “Headache?”

- “Yes, it comes and goes, but I will be fine, I assure you Lady Herald. Potion just needs a bit of time to start working.” - Rose could see that it was a lie, but she didn’t dare to call him out. She saw those lies already, white lies to hold the hope up. They were harmless, and if something was amiss, she was sure that Leliana and Josephine would interfere. So she had hope in the Commander, eating in silence, relaxing in his presence.

Hoping that one day she would hear the truth from him.