#Worldstate:Warden Inquisitor

[gin-and-stardust]

I Promise I’m Better than This

Dorian stiffened when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. It was late, and he had been the only one in the library for some hours. He thought better when he didn’t have people shooting him mistrustful looks every time they walked by him. Slowly he set the book down and tilted his head enough to get a look at the entrance to his alcove.

To his surprise, it was the Templar he occasionally stared at when he was out training with the troops. Arthur is his name, I believe. It set Dorian on edge, if only because this seemed random and he was a Templar.

“I didn’t disturb you, did I?”  Arthur asked softly, “I didn’t think anyone would still be awake.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t doing much to have been disturbed.”

“Ah, well,” Arthur coughed, “I’ll let you get back to it. Sorry again, and good night.”

Arthur stepped away from the opening and moved deeper into the library. Dorian watched him for several seconds as he picked out a book and settled in one of the uncomfortable chairs by a table.

Not exactly the standard southern Templar. Dorian shrugged to himself and pulled out Medicinal Herbs of Ferelden, which he read more to keep himself occupied rather than research. He sat back down in his chair and for a few moments, he read mindlessly. In the distance, he could hear the occasional rustling of a page turning.

Eventually Dorian realized that he had been staring at the same page for the past ten minutes, listening to the other occupant’s progress. He bit his bottom lip before standing up and sauntering over to Arthur. The Templar was curled up in the chair in a way that seemed impossible knowing how large the man truly was. It looked nothing short of uncomfortable if Dorian had to guess.

Dorian “accidentally” bumped against the foot hanging over the side of the chair. Arthur twitched and glanced up from his book. Instead of the look of annoyance that Dorian expected it was merely one of curiosity. He wasn’t sure why he was over here, much less trying to engage Arthur in some kind of interaction. Maybe he was hoping for something positive for once.

“Yes?” Arthur kept his eyes on Dorian.

There was no look of disgust.

“I was simply concerned over your posture, you’ll become a hunchback by the time you’re thirty.”

Arthur frowned, and his head tilted further to the left, “and why the concern over my posture?”

Later, Dorian would blame the forwardness of southerners for the slip of his tongue, “You’re rather too pretty to have a hunchback.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

Dorian swallowed, wondering how he was going to cover his gaffe. It wasn’t a lie, Arthur was pretty with his reddish-brown hair that looked soft to the touch, pale green eyes and a smattering of freckles across his nose. The deep scar that ran alongside his nose added to his looks. Saying it aloud, however, was something that Dorian had never thought would occur.

“In that barbaric southern way,” Dorian countered.

Arthur grinned softly, “well, if it counts for anything I think you’re pretty in that stuck up northern way.”

That statement caused Dorian to momentarily lose his train of thought. Arthur suddenly shrunk down and the tips of his ears turned red. He suddenly stood up and knocked the chair over in his haste.

“Shit,” Arthur cursed and bent down to pick it up.

Dorian wasn’t entirely sure what he should do with this rapid retreat. It stung, as all minor rejections do but he wasn’t sure why Arthur was the one fleeing when he had done the rejecting. Or would if the question was ever asked.

Arthur gave him one last look, indecipherable in the low light of the library before he bolted out of the door. Once more Dorian was left alone.

Codex Entry: Torn Journal Page

I am an idiot and an ass. I’ll be lucky if he wants to talk to me again. Why can’t I control myself around handsome men? Hazel is going to have a field day. At least I can tease her about getting nowhere with the Commander.

I should probably apologize to Dorian. Even if he doesn’t want to ever talk to me again.

… Also, did he mean it when he called me pretty?

“I’m sorry.”

Arthur held his breath as Dorian turned towards him. The face was neutral, so Arthur was going to accept that as not being completely hated. From what he gathered Dorian always had something to say about something he didn’t like.

“Whatever for?” Dorian asked.

“Uh,” Arthur coughed, “for whichever of my actions offended you.”

“So, the running out in the middle of our conversation?” Dorian quirked an eyebrow.

Arthur nodded, “yes, that was not the impression I wanted you to have of me.”

Dorian’s face shifted, and Arthur sighed as he looked to the roof hoping that there was a divine sign. In some ways the Herald was lucky, she got the glowy hand for a hint. He fiddled with the hem of his tunic poking out from under his armor.

“And what impression did you think you left me with?”

“That I’m careless with people,” Arthur replied, “that I just say whatever comes into my head and damn the consequences, which I try not to do, but sometimes it happens and it usually ends… badly?”

Dorian chuckled, and Arthur noted it sounded a little strained. I might be projecting.

“I was hoping that you’d give me another chance to make a proper introduction,” Arthur smiled, but it felt hollow.

“And why,” Dorian said as he leaned back with his arms crossed, “would you, an upstanding citizen of the Free Marches, want to be associated with an evil Magister from Tevinter?”

Arthur blinked, his arms dropping to play with the hem of his tunic that wasn’t tucked under his armor, “you aren’t evil, you risked everything to warn the Inquisitor in Redcliffe, and I thought you said you weren’t a Magister?”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Dorian tilted his head.

“I think it’s unfair that people judge you because you’re from Tevinter,” Arthur replied, “it has to be lonely.”

Dorian leaned forward, his tone low, “and why would you think that?”

Arthur shrugged, trying to ease the tension, “I mean, it isn’t the same but it’s kind of similar, but people have certain judgments about me because I’m a Templar. The mages just keep glaring at me.”

Dorian let out a soft breath, “they think you hate mages because you’re a Templar?”

“Yes,” Arthur nodded, “but that isn’t the case. They think it is because I support Circles, but they don’t know I would support changing them to something less prison-like, and that I only think the Circles are helpful because they teach Mages the dangers of the fade and demons and blood magic.”

“You aren’t worried about places turning into Tevinter?” Dorian leaned back.

“I think any place should be worried about rampant blood magic.”

“But not that the mages will take over?”

“I rather like our current government, but most mages are decent enough until they get mixed up in bad blood magic and then become powerful in society.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, “alright.”

“Alright, what?” Arthur frowned.

“We can have a new first introduction.”

Arthur smiled, “I’m Arthur Trevelyan, but most people call me Art or Artie.”

“Dorian of House Pavus,” Dorian grinned, “and just Dorian is fine.”

[gin-and-stardust]

Distance Doesn’t Matter, My Love for You is True

It is harder than she thought it would be to hold herself back from embracing Alistair. She can see the effort in his face to do the same. Thank the Maker for Hawke delivering her letter with no questions asked and that Cassandra took lead on asking questions.

Ally listens keenly, it wasn’t anything that she didn’t know. All wardens were hearing the Calling. She is supposed to be finding a cure. Blackwall shifts behind her. That was the question she had yet to find an answer to. Right now, he is on their side, so she doesn’t want to offend him, and really having a Gray Warden who isn’t crazy is stunningly good for morale. She’ll drop it for now and talk about it with Alistair later.

It isn’t like Blackwall is ruining the Gray Warden name worse than they’re ruining it themselves.

“I believe that covers it,” Alistair says, “I’ll meet you at Adamant.”

Ally perks up.

“I agree. We will return to Skyhold and strategize.”

Alistair nods, “very well. If I may speak to the Inquisitor alone for a moment?”

He companions visibly tense. Ally smiles warmly, “of course. Cassandra, talk with Hawke and see if she has any other leads on beating Corypheus.”

Cassandra scowls, “Inquisitor, he is-”

“He is a hero and an ally, we can trust him this much,” Ally responds sternly.

Alistair’s reputation has never recovered from Loghain’s scheming and Eamon’s manipulation. It is hard for those who had been untouched by the battle of Ostagar to understand, harder still for those who were there. Even she had her doubts about the situation, she hadn’t seen the battlefield, not really, but she could not bring herself to regret the choices she made. Maybe they had been too late.

Only the Maker knows.

Cassandra backs down. She slowly starts to leave the room, Blackwall and Varric trailing behind her.

Ally waits a few minutes before practically launching herself at Alistair. Alistair pulls her tightly to his chest before lifting her from the ground slightly. His hugs hadn’t changed in their years of separations, it was warm and it was home.

“Maker, how I’ve missed you,” Alistair breaths into the crown of her head once he set her on the ground.

“I have missed you the same, husband,” Ally grins as she pulled away, only so that she could lean on her toes and sneak a chaste kiss.

Alistair deepens it briefly before they both fell back and just enjoyed each other’s presence. Ally hadn’t realized how badly she misses her husband until she is in his presence again. A drink of water in the desert. Alistair pulls her back to him and kisses her temple, cheek and then ended on her lips.

“Has it gotten worse?” Ally whispers.

“Somedays it is unbearable,” Alistair replies just as quietly, “but I have the greatest reason to fight.”

Ally smiles, “I wish I could have found the cure, before all of this.”

“I cannot blame you, the inquisition and hole in the sky seem to take priority,” Alistair chuckles and then sobers, “but a cure would be useless in the current state of the order. We must find out the cause.”

“True, and your exile was bizarre,” Ally mumbles, “why distance yourself from a hero? Why actively hunt for a hero?”

Alistair shrugs, “you could attempt to reason with Clarel, but I doubt it would matter.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Ally shuffles her foot angrily, “what is going on?”

“Perhaps we’ll find answers at Adamant,” Alistair replies, and pulls her close again, “but for now, I want to hold you again before we must part.”

“You could just join the inquisition,” Ally leans into his hold, “it’s not like we’ll kick you out. If they try, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Alistair laughs, “perhaps, if we can’t get answers from Clarel, but one of us should head to Weisshaupt if that’s the case.”

Ally wrinkles her nose, “I wish we didn’t have to part.”

“As do I, but the world can’t keep trying to tear itself apart forever.”

“Right,” Ally shoots him an unimpressed glare.

Alistair snorts and presses his nose to the crown of her head. Ally presses her head into his neck.

“Inquisitor, Cassandra is starting to get that murderous crease-”

Ally twists away from Alistair, enough to make eye contact with Varric but not enough to leave Alistair’s embrace. Varric looks between them, his lips pursed in thought.

“If I remember right, you’re married,” Varric says to Alistair.

Alistair visibly preens for a second and then he tenses. Ally squeezes his hand in reassurance. He relaxes marginally. Varric doesn’t miss the exchange between them and he glances at Ally.

“So, since the romance between Warden Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden is legendary, I’m thinking he didn’t fall for you, Inquisitor in the ten minutes we’ve known him. Which means that you haven’t told us everything” Varric raises an eyebrow.

Ally places her hands in the air, “that is the truth.”

Varric rubs his chin, “the dammed Hero of Ferelden is the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisitor.”

“I have a lot of titles,” Ally says as she worries her lip, “Varric, please don’t make an issue of this.”

“You have a reason to keep it secret,” Varric replies, “and it’s not like I haven’t kept my own from the inquisition.”

“Thank you,” Ally breathes.

Alistair inclines his head towards the dwarf.

“But, how are you not affected by the Calling like the others?” Varric asks.

Ally purses her lips, “my best guess is that it has something to do with me killing the Archdemon and living, otherwise I am as lost as you.”

“Inquisitor!” Cassandra’s voice echoes down the hall.

Varric winces.

Ally turns back towards Alistair and goes onto her toes to place a chaste kiss on his lips, “I will see you soon, my love.”

Alistair lifts one of her hands to his lips, “I will miss you every second, dearest.”

Varric goes out into the hall, and Ally trails after him. She sends Alistair one last smile, which he returns brightly. Ally for a second is surprised by how similar he looks to his twenty-year-old self, but that makes her smile grow. After all these years, he was still the same man.

“Promise?”

“Always.”

“Cassandra, we were just finishing up!” Varric moves ahead of her.

Ally stays a second longer and then slips the mask of the Inquisitor on.

Camp that night was a quiet affair. Cassandra is on watch and Blackwall was already tucked away snoring loudly. Ally watches the fire flicker and thinks of the nights during the Blight, her companions may not have gotten along well, but there was never a dull moment.

It was the happiest she could be at times.

“So,” Varric sits down next to her, “Hero of Ferelden.”

Ally groans softly, “Varric, I asked you to not make it an issue.”

“I’m not,” the dwarf sounds sincere, “I just have a few questions.”

“For your next book?” Ally tilts her head towards him.

“Maybe,” Varric shrugs, “but they’re more than academic.”

“Okay,” Ally sighs.

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Varric asks.

Ally shrugs, “Leliana knows.”

“She knows everything.”

“She traveled with me during the Blight and she asked that I help to settle the conflict at the conclave,” Ally replies, “I was never supposed to be…this.”

Varric nods, “no one was expecting it. But you haven’t answered my question.”

Ally laughs lightly, “notice that did you. I didn’t want to tell anyone because, well, Wardens aren’t meant to be political.”

“You didn’t think that telling people that you’re the Hero of Ferelden would raise morale?” Varric glances towards Blackwall’s tent.

“I thought that, if I were to fail, it would be an impossible blow to recover from,” Ally answers, “I didn’t want the Inquisition undermined by the person I used to be.”

“You’re still her,” Varric counters.

Ally shakes her head, “is Hawke always the Champion of Kirkwall? Is she that now?”

Varric blinks, “fair point.”

Ally stares at the stars and fights back the memories, “not to mention, that was ten years ago. I was barely an adult and I was grieving. I had nothing to lose back then, so I gambled with what I did have.”

“I’ll keep your secret,” Varric says after a pause.

“Thank you.”

Varric gaze turns serious, “but you’re definitely not part of what’s made the Warden’s vanish?”

“No, they branded my Husband a traitor for defending me and standing against them. I’ve been on an unsanctioned mission for months before they all retreated,” Ally says sharply, “if you need more confirmation than my word you may ask Leliana to confirm when we return to Skyhold.”

“I believe you,” Varric raises his hands, “I just had to make sure. This inquisition is the only hope we have.”

Ally smiles faintly, “with people like you in its ranks, Varric, there is no doubt as to why people believe in it.”

Varric snorts, “so says the Hero of Ferelden.”

“Stop calling me that,” Ally squawks playfully.

[gin-and-stardust]

In Death, Sacrifice

The sky was gray, and a wind blew through the street that warned the villagers that the first snow would soon be upon them. A shopkeeper happened to look up and caught sight of a traveler, who wore a faded blue cloak with silver adornments.

“If you’re heading to the temple, the snow will make the passes impassable soon.”

The traveler paused and then turned their head towards him. He was surprised to see that the traveler was a woman who appeared to be in the prime of her thirties. Superstitiously he reached for the cudgel he kept near his stall, fearing that the woman was an apostate.

She caught the movement and adjusted the cloak so that a glimpse of a hilt could be seen, “I don’t believe that’s where my path will take me, but I thank you for the warning.”

The shopkeeper dropped his hand back to his side. There was something about this woman that told him any more threat from him would not be tolerated and he did not want to die this day, “well, regardless careful on your travels.”

“And have luck.”

It was an odd farewell but soon enough the encounter with the strange woman faded from his mind and he would not realize who the woman was until much later in his life.

Codex Entry: A Commune between Old Friends

Dearest Alessandra,

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope this letter finds you at all; you are a very difficult woman to track down. What are you doing in northern Orlais? You must tell me sometime.

The world is a very mad place these days, between the mage rebellion and the Knight-Commander’s mishandling of the Kirkwall Circle. It makes me long for the days of the blight. At least we knew the Darkspawn wanted to kill us.

I do not know if this letter will reach you in time, or if you’ve already heard but Divine Justinia is calling for a peace meeting between the mage and Templar leadership. A bid for order once more.

If you have the time I would love very much to hear from you. I have a request that is best made in person. For the foreseeable future, I will remain in Haven helping with preparations for the conclave.

                                                                                               Yours Sincerely,

                                                                                                           Leliana

Ally tucked the letter into her belt pouch. It had been two weeks of hard riding but finally, she reached Haven. It was strange to see the village again after a decade and it was stranger yet to see it filled with life that wasn’t trying to kill her. Soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms patrolled the village. More for show than use. His bow isn’t even strung!

Sylas, her mount, tossed his head in warning. Ally steadied him before reaching towards her scabbard.

“Show yourself!” She called out.

“Warden horses are truly outstanding, I made no sound on the approach,” a familiar voice greeted her from the side.

Ally turned her head quickly a smile was already forming, “Leliana, you’re still not important enough to have people greet your guest for you?”

“My guests are usually dragged into the prisons for questioning, we can make that arrangement if you would like?”

“Let me think,” Ally bit her lip, “I think I’ve seen enough cells for one lifetime.”

Leliana raised an eyebrow, “have you sampled more since we’ve parted?”

“It has been ten years.”

Ally removed her feet from the stirrups and slid down to the ground. Sylas danced to the side before he settled and began eating some of the grass not covered in snow.

“This isn’t just a social visit. What did you want to ask?”

Leliana tilted her head back, “there is a cabin not far from here. The man who lives there is currently at the apothecary.”

Ally sighed but grabbed Slyas’ reins. She missed the days when things were simple when people directly told her they wanted to kill her or ambushed in an ally. Leliana led the way down a frequently used hunting path. Ally looked up towards the sky, it was cloudy, and the wind was starting to sting with cold.

“It will snow tonight.”

“Winter is upon us,” Leliana remarked, “and with luck, spring will bring change.”

Ally shook her head. She would be the first to admit she wasn’t fully caught up on current events outside of the Wardens (and now that she thought about it since everyone started hearing the Calling she wasn’t sure what was happening with the Wardens). The wind carried a foul omen with it, and she wondered what would come of it.

A wind like this hadn’t blown since the night before her family’s murder.

As they rounded a curve a small but sturdy cabin came into view. There was no smoke leaving the chimney, so it was safe to assume Leliana was right and the owner would not be back for some time. While Leliana picked the lock to the door, Ally tied Sylas to a post near a large patch of grass.

The inside of the cabin was sparse, unsurprising as she was sure it belonged to a peasant. Several books lined the shelf of a bookcase, the one luxury item in the entire home. Well-read. They must run the apothecary, and Leliana likely has never dealt with him directly. The perfect place to have a meeting that she doesn’t want to get out.

“Now that you’ve lured me out to your cabin, what dastardly plan do you have for me?” Ally smirked.

Leliana pursed her lips, “this is no time for jokes. I couldn’t risk people knowing that I met with the Hero of Ferelden.”

“Why is that?” Ally crossed her arms.

“Rumors… people, smart people, would put two and two together and come to the conclusion that the Inquisition is trying to recruit the Hero of Ferelden for political points.”

Ally’s arms dropped, “an Inquisition? Are things that desperate?”

“Not yet,” Leliana stepped towards the unlit fireplace, “but if the Conclave fails… the Divine fears she will have no choice.”

“And you don’t have a leader, yet,” Ally said, “and people would think you are planning to have the Hero as the Inquisitor. That isn’t your plan, is it?”

Leliana turned towards her, “it is not. I protected your location from Cassandra, I feared what your rejection would do to our nonexistent reputation. You’ve done enough.”

“Then you want something else from me.” Ally leaned against the wall.

“The Conclave is the last hope of good people to avoid further bloodshed. If you were to speak, as a neutral party or in favor of one, people would not dare speak against you.”

“And you silence them into peace,” Ally finished, “and how long would that last? Until I died? Until the next hero came along?”

Leliana’s expression didn’t change, but Ally felt the shift in the air. What will you do Sister Nightingale?

“It will give us enough time to create a system for peace to last,” Leliana replied, “is that not what you wanted?”

“Peace is an admirable aspiration, I wish the Divine luck in achieving it-”

“You will not help then?”

Ally crossed her arms, Leliana’s tone was sharp but she could hear the hurt underneath, “if this was a normal time, then I would gladly lend my voice. I trust that you are doing the best given the situation. However, there is a mission of great importance I am undertaking, and it is time sensitive.”

“Do you know what this war will cost?” Leliana raised an eyebrow, “you saw what the Blight could do, but men and magic are unpredictable.”

“And I know that lesson better than most as you know unless you forgot what led to my joining of the Wardens.”

Leliana’s shoulders dropped, “I did not mean to offend, I meant only to give you perspective on the gravity of the situation.”

“Leliana,” Ally stepped forward and the cabin groaned against the wind, “my quest… if I fail, the consequences will be equivalent to this civil war. Perhaps greater.”

Leliana tilted her head, “am I to assume this is a secret mission of the Wardens?”

“It is a secret mission,” Ally answered.

“Is something happening to the Order?” Leliana straightened, “is that why the Wardens have gone?”

Ally stilled for a second, “the order is mired in its traditions. This mission is more personal.”

Leliana reached up a hand and placed it on Ally’s shoulder, “and where is Alistair?”

“Alive and in Ferelden, but it was best that we stay apart during this time.”

Leliana squeezed gently before stepping back and crossing her arms, “for this Conclave, we would not need long. A week at the most during open discussions and then no further obligation.”

Ally glanced out of the window, snow was falling lazily to the ground. In a few weeks, the passes she wanted to use would be impassable because of snow and avalanches.

“How long until the Conclave?”

“Divine Justinia hopes that it will be in a month at soonest, but no later than two.”

Ally nodded, the passes would be snowed over by then. She would be delayed for at least three months if she did this… but perhaps she could save lives. Delay the war, but if left unchecked the Calling could take the Wardens completely. Winter kept the Deep Roads mostly sealed, but she knew a desperate or loyal enough Warden would find their way in regardless. She could stay stationary, read through some of the texts she’s found and perhaps create a better a strategy. It’s better than wandering the countryside hoping a cure will fall from the sky.

“I… will speak,” she said slowly, “but once the Conclave has finished I will have no part in what follows… unless darkspawn get involved.”

Leliana’s lips twitched minutely, “thank you, your influence will be most helpful.”

Ally looked towards the fireplace, “you know me, a bid for a hopeless cause is something I can simply not resist.”

“I will have to ask you to stay away from Haven, and not speak of the Conclave in public. Find an inn, write to me the address and I will only message you the date the conclave is set for.”

“You don’t want anyone to create a counter for me.”

Leliana clasped her hands together and smiled slightly, “there is no counter for you, but there are many that would attack your reputation. There are people who still believe in Loghain, people who believe the Order of the Gray Wardens is corrupt, or people who will attack your relationship with Alistair.”

“Ah yes, the rumors that I was only with him to gain the throne,” Ally sighed, “or that he was only with me for my title and Highever. Is that not every noble’s goal behind arranged marriages?”

“But not every noble is meant to be beyond earthly standards of morality,” Leliana replied, “wait until the sun is nearly set before taking off.”

“Will do. Good luck.”

“Maker be with you.”

Codex: Distant Lovers

Alistair,

Finding a cure for the Calling has been a challenge as anticipated, the Wardens guard their secrets and members fiercely. I’ve recently taken up residence in Honnleath to read what texts I’ve gathered while I wait for the Conclave to be called. I think I should head west once this is finished, those lands have never known blights, and I can’t help but wonder the reason for that. At this point, Clarel can’t become any angrier at me, and truly I do not believe that this is involving myself in politics if I remain neutral.

I wish every day that we can be together, but I know now more than ever we must complete our individual quests to secure our future. Each day I miss you more than I care to admit. Please be strong for a while longer.

                                                                            With all my heart,

                                                                    Alessandra Cousland-Therin

The Conclave was as noisy as Ally expected it to be. Mages and Templars, when they weren’t shouting each other down were stationed at opposite sides of the temple. She could see that the Right Hand of the Divine had been growing irritated with the lack of progress, and Ally saw her gather her equipment and gracefully storm out of the main hall of the temple.

At least, there won’t be murder on the Divine’s behalf… public murder at least. Ally had taken to wandering between the two sects to attempt to gather information from both sides as well as gauge morale. So far, she has gathered that both sides had more to agree on than disagree, neither wanted this war to continue but their pride would not let them back down. Rather, the Chantry would not allow rebel mages to roam freely as “apostates.” It was all rather absurd.

Tomorrow, after the Divine’s morning prayers the unaligned would be allowed to speak. Ally wasn’t sure what she was going to say, the Templars could not be allowed to continually abuse their powers as they did in Kirkwall and they shouldn’t be so quick to make Tranquils or annul a circle. They had nearly done so at Kinloch… Ally shook her head. Mages should also be given a chance to govern themselves or at the very least not live with the executioner’s ax over their heads.

What would father say? She frowned, her family had never been overly dedicated to the Chantry and her brother was speaking in Ferelden about less abuse of mages. It wouldn’t be politically devastating to her family, and the Gray Wardens’ official stance was that all were welcome into their ranks.

“Brother, this is a gross abuse of the Chantry’s power!”

Ally looks up to see two younger humans arguing in what she assumed they thought to be a private hallway. The first speaker, a young female with a bow strapped across her back, crossed her arms angrily. Her brother was a head taller and wore the typical Templar shield on his back. She couldn’t leave without alerting them to her presence in the first place nor could she interrupt a family dispute.

“And mages turning to blood magic at the first sign of trouble isn’t?” The male shouted back.

“Desperation! What does it say that a mage would rather become an abomination rather than return to a circle?” The girl snapped, “they are people too. What happened to defending the helpless?”

“But they are not helpless! They have more power at their fingertips than-”

“We have not given them a chance to prove whether they can rule themselves!”

Ally winced, if they didn’t lower their volume then someone would surely come running to make sure this wasn’t a mage-templar dispute. It sounded close enough to one.

“Then what is Tevinter?”

“A nation with its own faults, there is no guarantee that any nation that abolishes circles will become Tevinter!”

The brother ran a hand through his hair, and Ally noted that while both siblings had red hair, his was a shade lighter and both had freckled faces of youth.

“There is no guarantee that is not what we will become!”

Ally decided that this was a good time to interrupt. She didn’t know either of the siblings, but she could guess they were no strangers to tussling to settle arguments if they were anything like Fergus and herself when they were children.

“Excuse me,” she steps out from behind the corner, “I’m looking for a… forge or blacksmith, one of my work blades broke while I was whittling and…”

Believable Ally, how on Thedas did you survive the blight?

“A blacksmith?” The girl wrinkled her nose, “I don’t recall seeing one. Have you seen one Artie?”

She’s quick to anger and quick to forgive. Ally thought with a smile, so similar to herself before Howe- before Howe happened.

Artie tilted his head his arms still crossed, “not that I recall… maybe one of the Templars has skill enough to repair it or one of the Tranquils?”

“I’ll have to ask one of them,” Ally nodded backing away, “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything important, this temple is just very large and confusing.”

The sister grinned, “tell me about it, I’ve gotten lost five times this morning.”

“That’s because you can’t read maps.”

Ally quickly turned to walk down the hallway before another sibling argument could occur. She wasn’t sure why she had interrupted their argument. A feeling told her to, and she’s been a Gray Warden long enough to know that ignoring feelings tends to lead you unaware into a Hurlock ambush. Although there weren’t many of those these days.

“Where did that blighted knight get off to?”

Ally stopped just short of running into a Knight-Captain as he turned the corner.

“Pardon me, I’m sorry for not seeing you,” he said gruffly.

“Misplace a Templar?” Ally grinned.

“No, just one who tends to get caught up in his sister’s schemes when he should be preparing for a patrol.”

The Knight-Captain was loose-lipped. Ally raised an eyebrow before she realized that he was describing the missing knight without having to ask for help. Thank the Maker Alistair didn’t inherit that Templar Pride with his training.

“I believe I saw a Templar with down that hallway, third left,” Ally said and then walked past the older Templar.

“How very odd,” she remarked to herself and then quirked an eyebrow at a portrait of Andraste, “what do you have planned?”

Codex Entry: Family Matters

Father,

The Conclave is progressing as big of a waste of time as I imagined it would. They aren’t going to reach an accord. I suppose it would be an error to judge Divine Justinia for attempting to bring peace to Thedas. What would you have me say in your stead? Why not send Kenneth, the actual Trevelyan heir, or Diana who everyone loves? Although Diana staying in Ostwick makes more sense than Kenneth staying.

Was it because you knew Arthur was going to be here he’s still a right ass.  and you know I get along with him best? Did you wish me to find a husband among the nobles hoping to claim they were part of the biggest peace effort outside of the Fereldan treaty with Orlais?

Either way, I am expected to speak tomorrow and give insight on the feelings of the Free Marches. Frankly, they can be summed up as follows:

Starkhaven: Mages are all abominations

Tantervale: The Chantry told us that Mages are bad

Ostwick: Mages are fine, but Templars are better

Kirkwall: Please send money to rebuild from the Mage Rebellion we started.

And yet they’ll say the Marchers can’t agree on anything. I wonder what gave them that impression. Oh well, this conclave can’t last much longer, and I should be home before winter is halfway over.

I’ll bring Arthur home for a visit, Kenneth will love that.

                                                                                       Wishing you the best,

                                                                                                           Hazel

                                                                                                           & Arthur

P.S: He made me write that he hopes you and mother are well and to tell Kenneth he’s being a prick about the Grand Tourney still. Also, he congratulates Diana and welcomes Tobias.

Hazel stared out a hole in the wall of the Temple wall. The Frostbacks stretched for miles, and they seemed colder than the mountains back home. Arthur had been called away for patrol, so she had lost the only person she knew. None of the other nobles wanted to deal with a “barbaric Marcher.” She was certain the only thing barbaric at the conclave was a Comtesse wearing so much fur she practically was a bear.

Just as she was about to make her way to the main hall, the Divine had to be done with morning prayers soon, she heard shouting.

“-He- me!”

She took off down the hallway, wishing desperately that she had a weapon. The guards allowed her to keep her bow unstrung but no arrows. As she turned a corner she saw the woman from yesterday leaning against a wall as Hazel had been doing earlier.

“You! I think someone is in trouble!”

The woman pushed off the wall and then another scream echoed through the hallway. She moved faster than Hazel thought she could. Hazel sprinted after her and towards a large door.

Hazel watched in surprise as the woman kicked down the door with no weapons in her hand. Then, to Hazel’s complete astonishment, she strode into the room. Who is she?

“What’s going on here?” She demanded.

Just as she reached the door Hazel watched as the Divine knocked a… ball(?) out of a… monster’s hand. She recognized that Gray Wardens, or those in their armor, were holding the Divine hostage. What in Thedas?

The woman waited for a second, no one moved.

Neither Warden responded to her and the woman made a noise of disgust before she quickly snatched the ball up in her hand as the monster advanced forward. She grunted in pain as the ball suddenly grew bright green. Hazel stepped towards her she wanted to help but had no idea how to.

The monster stretched out a hand.

“No!” It cried.

Everything went green.

Hazel jumped awake. She glanced around the room, and from what she could see there wasn’t much to it: a single torch provided enough light that it wasn’t completely dark, and she could faintly make out a heavy iron door in front of her. After a second glance gave her nothing more to work with, she made to stand only to be alerted to the chains holding to the floor.

A cell?

The door banged open but then closed just as suddenly. Hazel was momentarily blinded by the bright light and only knew that someone was in the cell because of the clinking of armor.

“Arthur, this is a piss poor joke-”

“I am inclined to agree.”

Hazel’s head whipped up to be greeted by a woman. She faintly remembered her face from the Conclave. The Right Hand of the Divine… what was her name again? Her face twisted at the sight of the other woman’s glare.

“Who are you? What right do you have to chain me up?” Hazel spat.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.”

“What?” Hazel tilted her head; her heart rate began to speed up.

Cassandra leaned down, “the Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead.” “And you think I did it?” Hazel gaped.

“You and your associate,” Cassandra paced around her.

“My asso- my what? Who?” Hazel narrowed her eyes, “Arthur is my brother, but he was out on patrol… Is he alive?”

“I cannot answer that question,” Cassandra’s eyes softened, but her voice remained stern, “I speak of the unknown woman with the mark on her hand.”

Hazel blinked, “who?”

“Do not play games with me!” Cassandra surged towards her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Hazel leaned back, raising her arms slightly.

The door opened, this time much less violently.

“Cassandra,” a faint Orlaisian accent spoke.

“What Leliana?”

“I think they have nothing to do with each other,” Leliana stepped into the light.

“Why because the other denied it?”

“Yes, and she did not lie,” Leliana raised an eyebrow, “I have yet to meet a person who has no tells when lying.”

Cassandra huffed, “but if both feign memory loss who is to say…”

Leliana frowned, “we must trust them, the other may be the only way to close the breach.”

“Breach?” Hazel frowned, “what’s that?”

“It will be easier to show you,” Cassandra sighed, “bring the other one out I will take them to the Rift.”

“Rift?” Hazel questioned.

Cassandra just stared at her.

“Got it, I’ll have to wait.”

Codex: Unfinished Letter

Alistair,

You have made me happier than I ever thought possible, you gave me love when I thought there was none left in this world.

I don’t intend to die on this mission, but I swear I will do everything in my power to come back to you. If I don’t and it’s not enough-

-The rest of the letter is blotted ink and water stains -

Ally will admit she’s had rougher awakenings. One doesn’t survive a blight intact, but Leliana’s stern face standing over her while her hand throbbed in excoriating pain. It was almost as bad as when she drove her blade through the skull of the Archdemon.

Everything else was just as confusing.

“The Conclave was destroyed,” Leliana had begun, “you and the Trevelyan girl were the only one in the temple that survive. A group of Templars patrolling the perimeter are the only other attendees to survive.”

“That’s horrible,” Ally frowned, “none of that explains why I’m chained up like I’m a pris- someone thinks this is my fault.”

Leliana pursed her lips, “it would not be the first time.”

“It has to be the face,” Ally joked on reflex, “so why is my hand sparkling?”

“That is one of the many things that we do not know,” Leliana sighed, “do you remember anything?”

Ally closed her eyes, the last thing she remembered was, “I was staring out of a window on the upper level, thinking about the first time I was at the Temple… maybe yelling? A woman?”

“I wish I could say this is nothing to worry about.”

“They already think I’m guilty,” Ally bowed her head.

Leliana stepped towards her, “they do not know you are the Hero of Ferelden.”

“Wonderful, that reputation is intact when they think I murdered a hundred people in cold blood.”

Ally kept her head down. She was tired of death, whoever blew up the Conclave wanted war and they were likely to get it now.  This was her fight now, even if she walked away from the people likely calling for her head she’d be brought in to calm the masses. It was the world or the Wardens and either choice could lead to the end of the world. Why was it always her?

“I am going to talk to Cassandra, she will see sense and you will have a chance to prove your innocence. You and the Trevelyan girl.”

Leliana left the cell silently. Ally stared at the glowing mark on her hand. There was something about it that felt familiar… it felt like the spell the Sloth demon had but her and her companions under… but this was more tangible. Real.

“Every time the fade is involved, something weird happens. Like demons.”

The room didn’t even allow for her voice to echo. For the first time since she set out to find a cure for the Calling, she felt truly alone. Alistair, I miss you.

Ally’s neck had begun to cramp by the time the door opened again. As the sun rose on the army of the faithful, /the gates of the city parted and the legion descended upon the land as the shadow of a distant storm darkens the sun. /at the forefront of the host rode the Archon himself, sword in hand. /and at his side, bound by heavy chains, rode the Prophet. She usually turned to the Chant when she needed sleep, but now she felt as though she needed guidance. Ally looked down at her hand again, and for a second, she saw not the green of whatever magic has befallen her but a blood-soaked hand trembling against the wound on her father’s chest. She was not the steadfast Hero of Fereldan, Warden-Commander, but the scared twenty-year-old who watched as her family was murdered.

“Cassandra will take you to the rift, we have reason to believe that you may be more helpful than previously thought.”

Leliana undid the cuffs restraining her, and she stood slowly. Ally rotated her wrists trying to ease the stiffness. She nodded to Leliana before she stepped through the opened door. The cold wind of the Frostbacks hit her and tears formed in her eyes from the sting. Crackling in the distance caught her attention, and as she turned she wasn’t sure what she was staring at.

“That is the Breach,” Leliana said simply.

“Is that all it is?” Ally snapped.

“This is our best hope?”

Ally glanced over her shoulder to see a stern looking woman followed by a dazed-looking girl… the one from before! She didn’t know her name. Now that Ally was able to see the girl’s face she noticed her bright blue eyes and the little scar between her eyes across her nose.

“If I can help, I will.”

The woman paused mid-stride and pressed her lips together, “good, we must move quickly.”

“Cassandra, do you think they perhaps need more explanation?” Leliana asked.

“I will explain on the way.”

The girl looked wide-eyed between the three women. Ally couldn’t blame her, even if the girl didn’t know who she was. She had to have only been ten at the oldest during the Fifth Blight, and if she was a Marcher she was sure to have only heard tales from the refugees and none of them had seen the Hero of Fereldan.

Cassandra took off with long strides. Ally followed her and noted that Trevelyan was still chained. The crowd around them booed and glared at them. The longer they were exposed to the crowd the smaller the girl tried to appear. Knowing how it felt to have the disdain of people, Ally held her head high but slowed her pace to be alongside the girl.

“I’m Ally,” she whispered.

The girl blinked, but unhunched her shoulders, “Hazel.”

“I wish our meeting was better, but it’ll make for an interesting story… once the sky isn’t trying to kill us that is.”

Hazel blinked again, “are you alright?”

Ally smiled gently, “I’ve been better.”

Cassandra glared at them from over her shoulder. Ally shrugged at her.

Codex Entry: Despondency

Leliana,

My respect of you is very high, and I trust that you would not go to Ally unless the situation truly called for it. Ally will do anything to help people, it is one of the reasons I love her so.

Please. Just please, don’t let her die. I thought I lost her once before and it destroyed me, I cannot imagine what would happen if she was truly lost to me. Do not let this fight take her.

                                                                                               With Respect,

                                                                                               Alistair

“Oh, more demons, lovely.”

The Dwarf, Varric, raised an eyebrow at her, “not exactly a common reaction.”

Ally spun a dagger in her hand and slammed it through the helmet of the shade about to rip Cassandra in half, “well, you know, maybe we can kill them with kindness.”

Varric chuckled, “let me know how that goes, meanwhile Bianca and I will be over here, alive.”

A wraith’s bolt crashed into the cliff above her head. Ally rolled out of the way of falling rock to advance towards their last foe, only to stop when two projectiles appeared in its chest. She turned to see Varric and Hazel lowering their weapons.

“Nice shot,” she grinned.

“Bianca says thank you,” Varric replied.

Hazel looked at the dwarf with some confusion, “is the crossbow magical? Like sentient?”

“Bianca is Bianca,” Varric started to trek up the path.

“Did that make sense to you?” Hazel turned towards Ally.

“Not really, but as long as the crossbow is pointed at our enemies and not my back,” Ally shrugged, “I don’t mind so much.”

“I guess that’s reasonable,” Hazel frowned.

“It isn’t. But we don’t have much of a choice, people don’t usually volunteer for these types of things,” Ally jogged lightly to catch up with the rest of the group.

“I can’t imagine why not,” Ally heard Hazel mutter, “demons, cold, questionably sane companions? It’s practically a vacation!”

I hope you keep that sense of humor, I have a feeling this will be bigger than just closing a hole in the sky.

Varric and Cassandra were bickering about something at the front of the group, a hawk? Hazel was muttering behind her. That left Solas, who was staring at the breach with a furrowed brow. Ally slowly made her way towards him. She shook out her hand, attempting to ignore the tingling pain.

“What kind of damage will this do to both our world and the Fade when we close it?”

Solas turned towards her one ear flicking to the side before both were pricked, “you’re asking what wounds it will leave?”

Ally nodded, “yes, I know the more powerful the magic the weaker the veil between worlds is, which is why blood mages are so prone to possession, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Nor have I, but I suspect the veil will be much weaker for years after, and this area will always have spirits and demons infesting it. A shame for the resting place of your Andraste,” Solas replied.

“It is true we’ve lost her-” Ally cut herself off abruptly, “temple but she’s always been more than that to those who worship her.”

Solas hummed, “do you count yourself among them?”

“I’ve never been overly pious. I know the chant and can recite parts of it. It seems to me that the more sensible route of solving problems is to solve them yourself rather than waiting for a divine being to fix them for you.”

“A reasonable view,” Solas nodded, “if uncommon.”

“We’re near the forward camp!” Cassandra called to them.

Hazel had slowly caught up to them, “she means more people that think we’re guilty.”

“It could be worse.”

“It could be worse?” Hazel glared, “how could it possibly be worse?”

Ally looked her in the eyes, they were young and untouched by battle something that was soon to change, “you could be dead.”

“There’s a rift at the gate!”

“Duty calls,” Ally said as she sprinted towards were Cassandra already was surrounded by two wraiths.

Her daggers were in her hand as she stabbed into the spirit. She was surprised it felt like she was stabbing a Hurlock like the spirit was slowing her blow and was stuck to her blade as she pulled it free. Cassandra was being overwhelmed by more wraiths. Ally’s felt a sharp spike up to her elbow and looked down to see her hand glowing brightly. There was only a second before she raised her hand towards the rift, and to her surprise moments later the demons attack ceased.

“They’re stunned!”

Arrows and crossbow bolts slammed into the spirits. Ice shattered as it struck them, freezing the wraiths just in time for Cassandra to shield bash them apart. It was familiar, Ally thought about long treks on the road with Morrigan freezing half the room and Alistair taunting the other half while she and Leliana picked off the stragglers. Ally shook her head. Those days were long over, Morrigan was hiding with her child, Leliana was hoarding secrets of nations, and Alistair was running from the Wardens.

A decade ago they were all untouchable.

Cassandra’s voice caught her attention, “come now, we have to speak with Leliana about how to approach the Breach!”

Does she ever stop yelling?

Ally took point, keeping her head up and shoulders squared against the angry murmurs of the soldiers. Straight ahead she could make out Leliana arguing with a priest. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw her approach.

“As grandmaster of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take these criminals to Val Royeaux to face execution."

Cassandra scoffed, “you order me? You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug, but one that supposedly serves the Chantry!”

Ally shook her head, how do people always find time to argue at the end of the world?

Leliana sent a sharp look to Cassandra, “we serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know.”

“Justinia is dead! We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter!”  

Ally sighed, “please don’t talk about us like we aren’t here.”

Hazel nodded next to her.

The Chancellor rounded on her, “you shouldn’t even be here!”

Ally only raised an eyebrow and the Chancellor curled his lips but turned towards Cassandra, “call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

Cassandra shook her head, “we can stop this before it’s too late.”

“How?”

Roderick crossed his arms, “you won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must get to the temple. It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest,” Leliana shook her head, “our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

“We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky,” Cassandra crossed her arms.

The Chancellor’s voice lowered, “listen to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.”

Ally gasped in pain as the mark on her hand flared up. She managed to stifle the gasp quickly and returned to her casual stance but continued to clench and unclench her hand.

Cassandra looked down towards her hand, “how do you think we should proceed?”

So, it comes down to me? Ally frowned before turning to Hazel, “you heard their arguments, what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Hazel bit her bottom lip, “charging might be more effective, but you’ll lose the scouts in the pass. Although if you take the pass then soldiers will be lost in the distraction.”

“I don’t like the idea of soldiers dying just to be a distraction,” Ally replied.

She thought through each option carefully. A scouting party couldn’t be more than six but the number of soldiers they would lose to the demons may be greater, but time was of the essence.

“I say we charge. I won’t survive long enough for your trial,” she met Roderick’s eyes, “whatever happens, happens now.”

“Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone,” Cassandra ordered.

Cassandra began walking down the bridge, Ally followed her.

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”

If we fail, it won’t matter. Ally thought.

~

Hazel slipped on one of the steps, she managed to regain her balance quickly but Varric raised an eyebrow at her. She ignored his question stare and continued down the steps much quicker and less careful. Ally and Cassandra lead the group with an air of experience. It was impressive to her, that those two (especially Ally) could be so calm in the face of death. This entire group was rather casual about the entire thing.

I wonder if Arthur is this relaxed when he has to confront blood mages?

Ally suddenly drew her daggers and seemingly vanished. Varric picked up his pace just as Cassandra charged into the fray.

“How many rifts are there?” Varric called out, launching a volley of bolts into a shade.

“We must seal it if we are to get past!” Solas called to Cassandra.

“Quickly then!” Cassandra yelled from where she was pulling her sword out from a quickly fading wraith.

Hazel unslung the bow from her back and turned another one of the shades into a pincushion. It was still rapidly making its way towards a soldier, but suddenly Ally appeared from behind it and her twin daggers sunk into it deeply before it fell to the ground.

Cassandra felled the second wraith just as the last shade went down under twin bombardments of bolts and ice from Varric and Solas. Ally raised her hand and seconds later the rift was sealed.

Solas replaced his staff on his back, “sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

“Let’s hope it works on the big one,” Varric said as he nudged the disappearing shade.

A man Hazel hadn’t noticed during the battle suddenly spoke up, “Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.”

Oh wow. Hazel found herself thinking once she caught sight of the man’s face. He was handsome and judging by the scar on his lip battle hardened.

Cassandra sheathed her sword and pointed towards Ally, “do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner’s doing.”

“Is it? I hope they’re right about you,” the Commander narrowed his eyes at her, “we’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.”

Ally nodded, “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try my best.”

The two stared at each other for a second longer before the Commander relaxed his shoulders, “that’s all we can ask.”

He looked back to Cassandra, “the way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

Cassandra straightened, “then we’d best move quickly. Give us time, Commander.”

“Maker watch over you – for all our sakes.”

Hazel watched him jog off to where an injured soldier with a clearly bleeding leg wound was hobbling back to their camp. She tilted her head as he slung the injured man’s arm over his shoulders and she was left with the desperate hope that they would meet again.

“Who was that?” She asked Cassandra once they were on the move again.

“That was Cullen, a former Templar.”

“Former?” Ally asked.

“He left the order to help with the Inquisition,” Cassandra replied shortly.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Hazel frowned, “I thought it was a ‘you’re in for life’ type of order, like the Wardens.”

“They don’t like it when you leave, but they can’t stop you. Usually leaving isn’t healthy for the Templar,” Ally explained.

“That is true,” Cassandra nodded, “but he has been an asset.”

Hazel wondered if Arthur ever thought about leaving the Order. He didn’t agree with the Rite or the Harrowing but knew someone had to protect people from blood mages.

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes,” Solas said suddenly.

“What’s left of it,” Varric muttered.

“So much destruction,” Hazel whispered.

The temple hadn’t been grand, left to the ages as it had been before the Hero of Fereldan had found it and the effort to restore it had only gotten as far as the main hall considering they could only start five years ago after the important buildings were fixed from the blight. Still, it had been large and it seemed strange that something could completely destroy it.

“That is where you two walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you,” Cassandra said suddenly.

“They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

“I remember the woman, only faintly.”

“I don’t even remember that,” Hazel said.

They walked in silence before Varric spoke again, “the Breach is a long way up.”

“You’re here! Thank the Maker.”

The party spun around to see Leliana walking up behind them.

Cassandra nodded in greeting, “Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple.”

Just as quick as she appeared, Leliana turned on her heel to a group of men behind her and began giving orders.

Cassandra looked at Ally, “this is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

“I’m not sure how to even start getting to that thing,” Ally crossed her arms, “do you have a plan?”

“No,” Solas shook his head, “that rift was first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we close the Breach.”

“Perhaps is such a comforting word,” Ally replied.

Cassandra shot Ally a look but ignore the statement, “then let’s find a way down, and be careful.”

Hazel looked down towards the rift. It was only a little larger than the ones they had encountered to get here. She was sure that Ally would be able to close it, but she didn’t know anything about the Breach in the sky. At the very least she hoped it would stop the raining demons and give them time to breathe and come up with a strategy.

Leliana catches up to them and they start making their way down.

 “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”

Hazel tensed at the sudden voice. She looked around but only saw the group.

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra’s hand rested on her hilt.

“At a guess: The person who created the Breach,” Solas said casually.

Ally leaped over a crack on the ground, “well, if he keeps talking maybe we can figure out what happened.”

The two archers they passed looked nervous and Hazel couldn’t blame them. This magical shit was way above her. They pressed on several more feet before the surrounding area began to grow red.

Varric sucked in a sharp breath, “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.”

“I see it, Varric.” Cassandra sidestepped the ore.

“But what it’s doing here?” Varric glared at it.

“Wait now there’s red lyrium?” Ally turned back towards them.

Solas prodded it with his staff, “magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…”

“It’s evil. Whatever you do don’t touch it.”

Hazel was surprised to see that Varric was walking at the furthest from the ore. She guessed he must have had a bad run-in with it previously. Vaguely, Hazel remembered rumors of some strange ore that corrupted the Knight-Commander in Kirkwall. Could this be the same? Varric did mention he was in Kirkwall.

“Keep the sacrifice still.”

“Someone help me!”

“That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” Cassandra gasped.

“Someone help me!”

“What’s going on here?”

Cassandra turned towards Ally, “that was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But…”

She was cut off by a flash of white. Hazel frowned as she blinked through her watery eyes at the sudden brightness. It was a woman in a chantry uniform… the Divine? Something was looming over her, Hazel shuttered and amended her previously thought something very evil was looming over the Divine.

“What?” Ally asked.

“What’s going on here?” Ally’s voiced echoed again but this time she was in the image.

Hazel’s eyes widened as she realized she was behind her, “I don’t understand.”

The ghost-Divine turned towards ghost-Ally, “Warn them! Run while you can!”

“We have intruders,” the dark blur said, “kill them. Now.”

“You two were there!” Cassandra marched towards them, “who attacked? And the Divine is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

Ally looked back to the rift, “your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it is a memory, left because the fade is strong here.”

Solas blinked, “yes, I believe them to be echoes. But more pressingly this rift is temporarily closed. The mark can open it and then we can seal it properly but-“

“Demons are going to come through it while its open,” Ally finished.

“Yes.”

Cassandra unsheathed her sword, “stand ready!”

Hazel clutched her bow and knocked an arrow.

“Don’t worry too much,” Varric said next to her.

“Easy for you to say,” Hazel murmured, “something tells me you’ve fought demons before.”

“You haven’t been doing too bad for this being your first demon hunting experience.”

Ally stood in front of them, shoulders squared and hands on her hips. Hazel couldn’t help the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. That woman just seemed confident, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Everyone ready?”

She raised her hand and opened the rift. There was a flash of green and-

“It’s a pride demon! Don’t let your guard down!”

Hazel’s heart leaped to her throat. She had never seen anything as horrifying as the demon. Ally rushed it and leaped onto its arm. Her blade sunk into the muscle (do demons have muscle?) before she was thrown off by the demon’s other hand. The rogue landed on her back and somehow twisted herself to come to a sliding stop on her feet.

“It’s defense magic is up!” Ally yelled, “Solas, you’re going to have to chip away at it before we can do any physical damage!”

A wraith soared towards Ally, and Hazel turns and shot it. The wraith screamed as if it was in pain as it vanished, “and it has friends!”

“Demons travel in packs when they aren’t possessing people,” Ally responded, “although, they do tend to cause more possessions…”

“Focus!” Cassandra ordered.

Something flickered on the pride demon and Ally launched herself forward. She moved at speeds Hazel had thought legendary heroes could move. It wouldn’t surprise her if Ally said that she had taken out an entire group of bandits in seconds. Varric had turned his bolts towards the pride demon. Hazel kept scanning for more allies. They couldn’t be overwhelmed, they were the only hope in sealing the breach.

~

Ally leaped out of the way as the pride demon charged her. She saw how it moved more clumsily. It was tiring, but not before the soldiers under Cassandra’s command, nor the companions that came with her. Both Varric and Hazel were running low on projectiles and Solas on energy. Cassandra held the pride demon’s attention, and Ally ran towards it.

She jumped on it’s back, at first it didn’t notice her so she took the slight advantage and stabbed her daggers into the side of the demon’s throat. That finally seemed to do it as the demon dropped to its knees and it’s physical body started to disappear into the rift. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Ally spun and attempted to close the rift.

This one seemed to be taking more energy than the previous rifts. Pain shot through her palm and up to her shoulder. Her vision started darkening, but she fought to stay conscious. Finally, the rift fell into itself and she passed out before she even hit the ground.

Codex Entry: Encoded Apologies

Alistair,

I cannot spend much time on this letter. Ally still breathes. I will have her write to you once she awakens.

What exactly is going one with the Wardens? Where have they gone? Why are you and Ally the only ones still in contact with the world?

I fear that there may be more at play than we expect. The other advisors are in the dark. I do not wish to tip our hand as to who Ally truly is.

I do apologize for taking your wife away, but the Inquisition needs her more than the Wardens do for the time being.

With Respect,

Leliana

[gin-and-stardust]

Come to Me, My Lost Brother

There was a heaviness in her chest that Hazel had never felt before. Everyone was relieved, the Breach was no longer spreading and the Herald of Andraste was here to personally deliver them from the demons. Whenever she saw Ally, she saw the heaviness in the woman’s gait. Hazel wanted to help, help Ally who had been nothing but kind to her, but she couldn’t force herself to move from the bench near the window she claimed as her own.

Arthur and the Templar patrol were meant to be back by now. She knew that they likely had run into demons and if anyone was equipped to fight them it was a group of Templars. Still, the fact that they hadn’t made it back in the week since the explosion at the Conclave worried. C’mon Artie, don’t do this to me. Don’t make me tell mom.

Hazel perked up when she heard footsteps echo down the hallway. She turned her head slightly from the window to see Cullen walking towards her. He hesitated slightly before, unaware that she had already spotted him.

Cullen cleared his throat.

“Can I help you?” She mumbles.

“Uh, I,” Cullen coughed, “Leliana’s scouts received reports of a Templar group about a day’s ride away from Haven.”

Hazel sat up straighter.

“Her scouts say that one of the Templars match your brother’s description,” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re sure?” Hazel said slowly.

“The report came in an hour ago,” Cullen replied, “Leliana wouldn’t appreciate me sharing this information, but I thought you deserved to know.”

“Thank you,” Hazel smiled.

Codex Entry: Crumpled Note

Dear Mother and Father,

I regret to inform

I’m sorry I didn’t write to you sooner

After the Conclave

I fear Arthur has

-The ink is smeared making the rest illegible-

Hazel rested her head on her arms staring out of the window once more. The sun was low on the horizon. She’d been waiting anxiously for the group to ride through the doors but as the day progressed her heart sunk lower and lower into her stomach. Leliana’s scouts were rarely wrong, so that meant something must have happened.

When she heard footsteps, she just rolled her head on her arms let out a long sigh.

“I do not know what to say, other than to apologize,” Cullen said slowly.

Hazel furrowed her brows, “why?”

“I gave you the report and it proved inaccurate. It was unfair of me to raise your hopes like that.”

She shook her head, “no, it isn’t your fault.”

Cullen opened his mouth and then closed it but rubbed the back of his neck instead. Hazel turned her gaze away from him and back towards the gates of Haven.

“Do you mind,” Cullen coughed, “do you mind if I sit here for a while?”

Hazel shrugged, “if you want to.”

Outside the low light was making the shadows of the villagers long and she couldn’t make out individual people. Along the wall the, she could make out the guards and one person that seemed to resemble Ally with double daggers peeking out over her shoulders. Next to Hazel, she could hear paper rustling. She sighed and continued to guess at who was walking around the Chantry courtyard.

An hour passed before Hazel noticed in a change in the nighttime atmosphere of Haven. She lifted her head when she heard a guard shouting, but she couldn’t make out the words. A quick glance at Cullen told her he heard the same as he was halfway to his feet already. She nimbly leaped to her feet fearing they were under attack.

Cullen nodded at her before he set off on a brisk pace down the hallway. Hazel went the other direction to grab her bow before running down to the gate. By the time she arrived, Ally was already stationed on a ledge just below the wall, so she could see who was approaching but they likely couldn’t see her. Cullen was more casual, resting with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Templars approaching!”

Hazel stilled. Templars?

Cullen quirked an eyebrow but otherwise remained stationary. Ally jumped down from the wall.

“Are you expecting a patrol, Commander?”

“Yes,” Cullen shifted, “but at the moment I don’t know if this is the one we were expecting.”

Ally crossed her arms, “we’ll find out soon, they’re half a mile from the gate.”

The next several minutes were tense. Hazel paced along the back of the group. She wasn’t sure how to react when the guards opened the gate and she could faintly make out a group of riders. Seconds later she could see the Templar sword crest on the front rider.

“Rylen!” Cullen greeted, and the tension evaporated.

The front rider, Rylen evidently, reined in his horse before dismounting.

“Commander,” Rylen pressed a fist to his chest, “I apologize for falling out of contact, but when the sky opened, we weren’t prepared for demons.”

Hazel slowly made her way to the front of the crowd. She glanced at the heads of the still mounted Templars, most had their helmets off but, longer she looked the more unfamiliar faces she saw.

“Hazel?”

She whipped her head to the side and couldn’t help the grin that broke across her face. Arthur’s hair was mussed from wearing a helmet and she could see a recent cut along the side of his head. It would scar, but he was alive. They stared at each other for a second longer before Arthur rushed her and crushed her against him.

His armor was uncomfortable against her body as she was only wearing a cotton tunic She didn’t care as she hugged him tighter. Her brother was alive. It was a good emotional whiplash.

Against her shoulder, she could feel Arthur laughing and she ignored the wetness growing there.

Codex Entry: A Neatly Folded Letter

Dear Mother and Father,

I would have written sooner, but the Templars have kept me busy since the rebellion began. Then demons literally fell from the sky… so that was something that had to be dealt with.

Good news, I’m alive and Hazel hasn’t killed me for worrying her. I’ll count that as a victory.

Bad news, it looks like we’ll be stuck in Ferelden for the time being helping with this Inquisition. Really, the only bad part about that statement is we’ll be stuck in Ferelden. It really does smell like dogs here, and it’s cold.

Hopefully, when this is all over, I’ll be able to visit. Just make sure Kenneth is properly prepared for my arrival.

                                                                                   Wishing you the best,

                                                                                               Arthur

Arthur stretched and groaned as his spine cracked. The beds in the Chantry weren’t comfortable, but they were better than camping in the woods. He rolled over onto his side and squinted his eyes against the early morning light. Hazel was in the bed next to him, blanket pulled over her head, he laughed and swung his legs over the side.

The relief he felt at seeing his sister alive was immeasurable. He’d been watching the temple when it exploded, in his heart, he knew that no one could have survived that, but the faithful part of his mind prayed that out of everyone Hazel would be able to survive. Apparently, Andraste had been listening because Hazel had walked out of the rift with the Herald of Andraste.

Slowly he stood his knees protesting the movement. Hazel shifted slightly, and the blanket was pulled taut over her head. Arthur carefully eased the blanket out from underneath her head and instead settled it high on her neck. Mother’s warning coming to mind, Hazel, if you keep pulling that blanket over your head you’ll suffocate during your sleep. Of course, Hazel didn’t listen, but Arthur had taken it to heart, and since they shared a room had taken to untucking the blanket in the morning.

Hazel grumbled and gripped the blanket but then settled down.

Arthur smiled and quietly moved around the room, pulling on a loaned cotton tunic and a pair of threadbare linen pants. He eyed his armor for a moment before shaking his head, there was no need to put it on yet this morning. It would be too much of a hassle to find someone to help him in the first place. The majority of Haven hadn’t woken up, except for the blacksmith and the guards.

The Chantry should be empty. He preferred doing his prayers in private and not amongst the services.

Arthur stepped into the main hall, the pews were empty, and he walked more confidently until he reached the altar and saw someone kneeling. On closer inspection, he saw that it was the Commander. He hesitated before he shrugged and knelt next to the man.

Maker, my enemies are abundant, he began, but my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion, should they set themselves against me.

Cullen shifted next to him preparing to stand. Arthur flicked his eyes back to the ground. In the long hours of the night, when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know, your Light remains.

He stops and instead looks up into the face of Andraste. Had they failed the Maker so horribly? Arthur shifted on his knees to be more comfortable. Cullen was still standing next to him.

“You’re Lady Trevelyan’s brother, are you not?”

Arthur nodded, “I wouldn’t call her that to her face, that’s our mother’s title.”

“I will bear that in mind,” Cullen nodded, “it is a relief to see that the patrol returned alive.”

“It was a near thing,” Arthur replied.

“I believe we’ll have to take our victories where we can,” Cullen adjusted his sword, “perhaps if you have time later you could help me instruct the recruits.”

“I don’t have much patience for teaching, but I can help with demonstrations.”

Cullen dipped his head and turned to leave.

At least there are Templars in the Inquisition.

Now that Cullen left, as minimal of a distraction that he was, Arthur was able to focus more on his morning prayer.

Hazel wandered down to where the troops were training. Arthur had been spending his afternoons helping with them, and this was too good of a chance to get blackmail material. Her brother teaching? Surely something hilarious will come of it, she doubted he had the patience for someone who was not getting it after the fourth or fifth time.

It didn’t hurt that Commander Cullen was usually supervising the troops. She knew she should probably focus on trying to help the inquisition, become a scout of Leliana’s or maybe help Josephine with nobles. Except Hazel wasn’t overly eager to be away from her brother after fearing him dead. Cullen was a magnetic presence, and for the moment while the world was falling apart she would allow herself to indulge in such fantasies.

“Hold that shield up!”

Hazel snickered to herself as the soldier attempted to correct himself and instead his partner’s blade skittered up the shield and into the side of his head. It reminded her a lot Kenneth’s and Arthur’s spars growing up.

Speaking of Arthur, it looked like he was in the middle of an intense battle against a warrior wielding a two-handed sword. Despite the strength in the blows landing on his shield, Arthur brushed them and kept pressing forward.

“He’s quite good,” Cullen remarked as she drew nearer to him.

“It’ll go to his head if you tell him that,” Hazel laughed, “but his instructors have always said his defense was ingenious.”

They watched the fight for several more seconds. Arthur finally caught the blade on the ridge of his shield and shoved it away opening the warrior’s guard which Arthur took advantage of by sliding his leg forward to keep the solider off balance and then swung the hilt of his sword into the soldier’s side.

“Good movement,” Cullen mumbled.

Hazel nodded and glance around at the rest of the soldiers, “they’ve improved.”

Cullen glanced at the solider that he corrected the shield position on, “yes, I hope it is enough for when we seal the Breach.”

“Was it hard for you to leave the order?” Hazel asked suddenly.

“It was not as difficult as I would have thought,” Cullen shrugs, “after Kirkwall, perhaps I was looking for a way to change things.”

“And the Inquisition is that change?”

“Yes. The Chantry lost control of both the Templars and the Mages and now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains.”

Hazel raised an eyebrow.

Cullen continued, “the Inquisition can act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be a part of that. There’s so much we can-”

He suddenly cut himself off, “I’m sorry, I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

She blinked, surprised to have seen Cullen so impassioned. It was different from his usual no-nonsense manner and it was nice. Very nice.

“No,” she said drawing the word out, “but if you have one prepared I’d love to hear it.”

Cullen chuckled, “another time perhaps.”

She grinned at him.

“I, uh-”

“And she graces us with her presence,” Arthur leaned against her back slowly pushing her down.

“Knock it off, you oaf.”

Cullen’s lips twitched, but his face became neutral once more, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“You’re just going to let him crush me?” Hazel called after him.

“I know better than to get between the middle of a sibling dispute.”

Arthur finally removes himself from her back, only to place his elbow on her shoulder and prop his head up, “he’s speaking from experience you know, he’s got, siblings. If Cullen already has someone in mind, then you still have hope for settling with his brother.”

Hazel kicked Arthur in the exposed part of his knee causing his balance to falter, he flailed wildly for a few seconds, “why do I care if he’s taken or not?”

“Come, sister,” Arthur chuckled, “you’re positively enthralled.”

“You’ll have yours one day, brother dear.”

[gin-and-stardust]

A Future Past Certain Death

Arthur rolled onto his side and curled into a tight ball. He was freezing, but if he pulled the blankets over him he felt as though he would burst into flames. A violent shiver wracked his body.

“Amatus, as much as I know you enjoy my presence, you don’t have to wait up for me,” a soft voice came from the doorway, “what would your soldiers think if you fell asleep- Arthur?”

He shivered in response.

Dorian was at his side and placed a hand on his forehead, “you have a fever. It must be the illness that’s been running through the servants.”

“N-no,” he struggled out.

“Then…” Dorian paused for several seconds, “the start of the withdrawal symptoms?”

“Yes.”

The bed dipped, “how long?”

“Hours?” Arthur’s teeth chattered, he wondered if Dorian even understood what he was saying.

“Why didn’t you send for me?” Dorian ran a hand through his hair.

Arthur gasped as a wave of pain washed through him, centering on his spine, “couldn’t stand.”

There was a long pause and Arthur spoke once more, “stay with me tonight?”

Codex Entry: Morning Note

Dorian,

I woke up before you this morning. Miracles do happen!

-The paper is covered in ink blots-

Not sure what I wanted to say, but I was happy to see you when I woke up this morning. I love the idea of you being the first person I see and the last person I see.

I wish I could have told you that in person, but it’s easier to write. Besides, I’ll know you’re reaction when I return home from the patrol today, it’ll annoy Cassandra to no end not knowing what’s got me in such a good mood.

With affection,

Arthur

Dorian was gathering his clothes.

“Why don’t you stay longer?” Arthur asked as he rolled onto his stomach.

“And give people reason to talk?” Dorian turned and raised an eyebrow.

“They talk already,” Arthur flicked a wrist to beckon Dorian back, “about us. They talk of Cullen and Hazel as well as the Inquisitor and her secret lover.”

Dorian laughed, “I’m fairly certain that last one holds no truth.”

“I believe it.”

“Is that so?”

Arthur grinned, “She writes love notes, love notes Dorian! I’ve seen her face when she takes the time to write private missives. She’s entirely besotted with this person.”

Dorian turns around to face him, “maybe they’re letters to her family?”

“No, I know these things.”

Arthur preened when Dorian returned to the bed and sat down next to him.

“You’re an expert on love now?”

Dorian reached up and rubbed his thumb along the scar on the side of Arthur’s head. It was still tender, a memento from when the conclave exploded. Strangely enough, Dorian always seemed to know when it was bothering him.

“I always have been,” Arthur said as he leaned into the touch.

“I distinctly remember you running from the room when you realized you flirted with me,” Dorian teased.

Dorian’s hand ghosted across the side of his head before he settled on the back of his neck. Arthur sighed softly as he felt fingers begin to lightly scratch.

“Well, I couldn’t make it too easy for you to fall in love me.”

The scratching stopped as Dorian stilled, “it still has been far too easy to fall.”

A dopey smile stretched across Arthur’s face, “I’ll catch you. I’ve already fallen.”

Codex entry: Morning Note Two

Are we doing sappy love notes when we wake up in the morning? My what would the chantry say if they saw one of their mighty templars playing house with an evil magister? Perhaps Mother Giselle would have a thought on this?

But, in all seriousness, I am comforted knowing that I will wake up next to you. Something I longed for.

-Dorian

“Amatus, we’ve been sharing quarters for almost a month, where would I go?”

Arthur stirred at Dorian’s tone, his words were almost exact in pronunciation and it sounded strained.

“Time slows when I am around you,” Arthur smiled before it broke into a grimace.

Dorian huffed, “naturally you’re coherent when you’re attempting to woo me.”

“Naturally,” Arthur hummed.

Pain jumped up and down his spine as Dorian jostled the bed as he settled. After he was still for more than a few seconds Arthur slowly maneuvered his way to Dorian’s side. Arthur could only nuzzle into the crease of Dorian’s hip as the mage was still sitting up against the headboard. A hand brushed against the tip of his ear before Dorian cupped the back of his neck.

The cold was welcomed despite Arthur thinking he was freezing to death earlier. Dorian must be willing this to work.

Arthur had nearly dozed off when Dorian spoke, “I don’t know why you chose now to break your Lyruim addiction.”

“They can’t make me go back, after,” Arthur slurred.

Dorian’s chest rumbled, “no one can make you do anything you do not wish to do, Amatus.”

Arthur yawned, “you can.”

“A powerful gift indeed,” Dorian’s grip changed on his neck, “sleep.”

Arthur knew their luck would run out eventually. The first few weeks of without Lyrium were exhausting and he felt stiff, but none of the episodes had been as bad as the first. He could already tell his senses were fading, and it was disorienting enough he had stepped away from sparing.

Cullen had been watching him more closely. More pleasantly was the truth that Dorian rarely left his side when he was present at Skyhold, which was turning into more of a common occurrence. The Inquisitor had taken to asking Vivienne to journey with her.

Arthur was relaxing with his head on Dorian’s lap in the courtyard. They were in a secluded corner that not many people would see them at a glance, and Mother Gisselle had long since given up on convincing Arthur that this was a dangerous association to have.

“I enjoy spending time with you,” Arthur said suddenly, “like this. Just existing together.”

Dorian raised the book to peer down at his face, “I would certainly hope you enjoy my company, considering.”

There was an uncertain waver to Dorian’s voice that Arthur could hear. He decided there was no shame in admitting his other thoughts.

“You’re here so often these days, I may become spoiled.”

“There are worse fates,” Dorian said, but his shoulders were tense, “the Inquisitor has gotten it into her head that I would rather be here.”

“And you don’t agree?” Arthur’s heart twisted, he rubbed at the ache.

“I…prefer it,” Dorian said slowly as if tasting the words, “but I do not want to put my personal life above that of Thedas’. These are large stakes to gamble with.”

“I understand,” Arthur said quickly, certain.

They fell silent, and just as Dorian’s attention returned to the book Arthur spoke again, “she took Bull with her and Varric.”

“Another dragon?” Dorian frowned.

Soft footsteps approached them, Arthur turned his head to greet his sister who was grinning. He raised an eyebrow, unaware of what was causing her so much joy.

“Three dragons actually.”

Dorian let out a long breath, “three?”

“In Emprise du Lion, they made their nests in the coliseums past where the bridge was destroyed,” Hazel laughed.

“All the more reason to never visit that dreadful place again,” Dorian remarked dryly.

“Varric would likely join you in the vow.”

Arthur winced as he rubbed more fiercely at the pain in his chest, “Bull may set up the Chargers’ base there after all of this. Someone should warn Krem to buy warmer clothes.”

Hazel and Dorian’s eyes settled on his face. Arthur felt his cheeks turn red.

“Brother, how do you feel in this moment?” Hazel tilted her head.

Arthur shrugged as best he could, “no worse or no better.”

“Cullen-” Hazel coughed, “I’ve seen episodes, this is not something you can ignore and live through it.”

Underneath his head Dorian went rigid, “Arthur? Is one starting?”

“Probably.”

Dorian’s head whipped up to where Hazel stood and Arthur could feel the concern radiate off of him.

“Get him to a bed, have water and maybe food, something more than bread but still light,” Hazel responded somewhat unnecessarily.

Arthur realized that they hadn’t told her about the first episode. He winced, but thankfully neither mentioned it.

Hazel continued, “keep him calm and away from Lyrium.”

“Magic usually helps,” Dorian replied.

“I do not know how that will affect him,” Hazel responded with a frown, and narrowed her eyes “it likely won’t trigger any bad memories.”

Arthur sighed, “I enjoy you talking as if I am not present.”

“If a true Lyrium withdrawal is starting, you’ll only be present physically,” Hazel responded as she held his gaze.

He dimly remembered the first one. Despite Dorian being next to him he barely realized that was the case. Truthfully he barely realized that he was in Skyhold and not his room in the Free Marches. Carefully he pushed himself from Dorain’s lap, bemoaning that he was losing his comfortable perch.

Dorian’s hands hovered near him, prepared to catch him if he faltered. Which was unnecessary in the moment as it had barely started.

Hazel stood back on her heels, “I’ll make sure the way to your rooms is clear.”

With that she vanished just as quickly as she showed up. Arthur felt a little bad for ruining what good mood she did have, but knowing his sister she would recover quick enough. Dorian stood and offered his hand, Arthur took it gladly. He was pulled up and close to Dorain.

“If we are to handle these, you must tell me, Amatus,” Dorian whispered.

“Truly, I did not realize it was happening,” Arthur replied quietly, “you know I don’t like hiding anything from you.”

Dorian briefly pressed against him before backing up, “let’s head to the room?”

Arthur nodded.

Hazel sat across from the door to her brother’s room. She wanted desperately to be in there with him, but she doubted that he would like Dorian and her’s joint fussing. He needed to avoid as many stressors as he could, if they were like Cullen’s withdrawals then one person was good for an anchor but too many only exasperated the confusion.

The door opened and Hazel glanced up. Dorian looked weary, but not overly upset. She took it to be a good sign.

“He’s sleeping. I think the worse of the episode has passed,” Dorian sighed heavily.

Hazel stood, “that’s good. I was surprised when he told me that the was going off of Lyrium.”

Dorian leaned against the wall, “I must admit I was surprised as well. I still don’t understand his reasoning.”

“If you want my theory,” Hazel glanced towards the door, “I think it’s because he has a reason to not be a templar.”

“He did say something about not wanting to go back,” Dorian mumbled.

“I’m sure it’s different in Tevinter, but in the Free Marches, if you aren’t the heir or the second born, then you’re likely dedicated to the chantry in some capacity,” Hazel said.

“You served the chantry?”

Hazel snorted, “no, I’d have to be a cleric or a lay-sister. I served in the military as a scout.”

“Must’ve been dull,” Dorian remarks dryly.

“Usually I just pointed the city guard in the direction of the criminal,” Hazel shrugged, “I got off lucky.”

“And Arthur not so much?” Dorian frowned.

“No, he chose to be a templar. While it’s traditional, our parents never forced us to follow it,” Hazel replied, “the only tradition we followed was the first-born being the heir and the second being the spare.”

“I will never understand southerners,” Dorian groused.

“Southerners don’t understand southerners, if we did we wouldn’t have been waving blades at each other’s throats until the Inquition came and sat us straight.”

Dorian chuckled.

Hazel pressed her lips together, and then let out a long breath of air, “this isn’t his first episode is it?”

“No,” Dorian answered, “we didn’t tell you, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want you to worry. You have Cullen-”

“He is my brother, Dorian,” Hazel said harshly, “I have more than enough heart to worry about two people.”

“I understand, but he didn’t want to you to run yourself ragged between everything, you are a prominent member of the inquisition after all,” Dorian raised his hands in the air.

Hazel deflated, “I suppose there’s nothing that I can really do but worry. That’s all I seem to do these days.”

“Someone has to,” Dorian said kindly, “someone who is out in the field with the Inquisitor and the troops. Andraste knows the Inquisitor needs help balancing the world on her shoulders.”

“She does it well,” Hazel remarked.

Dorian nodded in agreement, “that she does, it’s why people follow her, but people follow you because you care.”

Hazel blinked, “Dorian…”

“Now, now, that’s as syrupy as I am going to get,” Dorian clapped his hands together.

Hazel jolts from the sudden change in tone, “what?”

“I’ll call for you if Arthur’s condition changes, you should rest. You just got back from the trip with Cullen correct?”

Hazel pushed off from the wall, “let me see him first? And then I’ll trust your word and you to take care of him.”

Dorian stared at her wide-eyed, “trust? What a novel thought.”

“Not so much as you think,” Hazel grinned.

With Dorian thoroughly confused she ducked into Arthur’s room. It was much the same as it was back home, sparse with a few personal touches. There were finer decorations that she was sure Dorian brought into make the place more “livable.” Arthur was in the middle of his bed, curled up, and despite the tremors wracking his body he was sound asleep. Hazel could see a thin layer of sweat on his skin, and she swiped it away from his brow.

“Foolish little brother,” she said with no heat, “thank the Maker you found Dorian. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so in love, I’m almost jealous.”

Arthur turned as if he was reacting to her voice. She smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss his brow.

“Sleep well.”

She stood up and made her way out of the room now that he concern was satisfied. If Arthur was sleeping then the episode must not have been too terrible, it only lasted for a few hours. Cullen had told her that they could last for a day or longer if they got too bad. That, or Dorian was working some kind of magic she could barely think of.

“I leave him in your hands,” Hazel said as she passed the mage, “I’ll stop by in the morning to see him. Don’t forget the Inquisitor wants to talk about the Wardens tomorrow afternoon.”

Dorian inclined his head, “thank you.”

“I should be thank you,” Hazel said quietly, enough so that Dorian wouldn’t hear her.

She watched as he ducked back into the room. Oh mother was going to be thrilled.

[gin-and-stardust]

Nothing of the Sort

Arthur watches Dorian as he plays with a random strand of magic. It’s never ceased to amaze him how confident the mage was with using magic in plain sight, he’s only seen mages be ashamed of their magic and those that weren’t well, they were quickly ostracized by the rest of the circle. The light of the moon and magic is playing on Dorian’s face, and Arthur doesn’t think that he’s ever seen anything as beautiful as the sight before him.

Dorian stops twisting his hand, the strands of magic vanishing into the air, and raises an eyebrow, “something catch your eye?”

He knows they’re still playfully flirting with each other, but Arthur can’t stop himself, “you.”

That makes Dorian’s lips twitch upward, “well, I certainly would hate to think I’m laying in the grass for nothing.”

Arthur rolls onto his side so he has a better view of Dorian, he can tell that Dorian is trying to backpedal away from the serious tone he let slip.

“Well, yeah,” Arthur half shrugs, “but I mean it, you’re very beautiful.”

“And you’re a flatter,” Dorian retorts quickly.

He sits up, “Dorian.”

“I don’t see how that’s what offends you,” Dorian mutters.

Arthur makes his face neutral, it’s harder than he thought and briefly, he wonders how the older Templar’s managed it, “what offends me is how flippantly you treat this relationship.”

“We have a relationship?” Dorian sits up.

“I,” Arthur pauses, “I thought we might or did or would. I don’t know, I guess not.”

He moves to stand up, retreat and lick his wounds. There’s a regiment of soldiers leaving in the morning, they’re going to the Emerald Graves. He can probably talk Cullen into letting him go, after all, there are rumors of Red Templars. Arthur spins on his heel, only for his wrist to be caught.

For a second, he has to still his heart, and Arthur glances back hopeful.

Dorian looks uncertain, and then he drops his hand. Arthur clenches his jaw and storms off towards his room.

~

-In a sealed envelope, unsent-

Codex Entry: Transgressions

Arthur,

Has your sister ever considered training the mages in how to use a staff? The way she wields an unstrung bow is truly inspired and mildly frightening. I only know this because I was on the receiving end.

By the way, your sister is incredibly unhappy with your abrupt departure. I cannot say I am overly fond of this. Mostly because your sister explained to me in violent swings that I was an ass.

Upon further thought, I was. Perhaps my reaction was not what you were expecting, but the question was fair. I was unaware you were thinking of this as anything more than a friendship. The blame lays with us both, but I should not have let you leave that night.

Especially since you apparently have a habit of running away from emotions. As if I was unaware of this after our first official meeting.

I apologize. Please speak to me upon your return to Skyhold

-Dorian

~

Arthur reigned in the horse. It was excited to situate itself in the stalls after the week its been away. He understands that feeling, but now he can’t hide from Dorian any longer. Cullen won’t let him sneak out a second time and his shoulder is still aching from a bandit maul. The rest of him aches from having sat in the saddle for too long.

Hazel is waving at him excitedly from the ramparts, and he shivers at the lack of a smile on her face. Sera is next to her, and she offers a wave before ducking below the wall. Arthur is briefly concerned and then decides that he’s the target of this prank. He did leave Hazel with no word. The Inquisitor nods to him as she walks past with Varric following her. It seems a casual conversation, judging by the semi-annoyed luck Ally wears.

He dismounts and hands the reigns off to the horsemaster.

“You have a gentle grip, his mouth barely shows damage from the bit,” Dennett remarks.

Arthur shrugs, “he’s carried me well, figured I ride him just as nicely.”

Dennett nods, “good lad. C’mon you.”

“Arthur,” Cullen calls from behind him.

“Cullen,” Arthur lazily salutes.

Cullen’s lips move slightly, almost a smile, “how was the Emerald Graves?”

“Humid,” Arthur quips, “and surprisingly filled with Red Templar’s and their supporters.”

“I suppose more would be showing up, anything else important that I won’t be reading in the reports?”

“There’s a dragon?”

“Wonderful, I’ll have the medics prepare the burn ointment now,” Cullen sighs.

“Are you saying our Inquisitor is going on an ill-advised dragon hunting trip?”

Cullen sends him an exhausted look, “more like Bull will drag the Inquisitor along.”

Arthur chuckles, “have fun.”

Cullen waves his hand dismissively. Arthur bounces off towards the dining hall. He hasn’t had anything but hardtack and overly gamey under-seasoned meat. Maybe he shouldn’t be that much of a food critic, but he was noble-born.

“So.”

Arthur stops automatically and twists to see Dorian leaning against the door leading to Solas’ hideout.

“You’re back.”

“I’m back,” Arthur says stiffly.

“It has occurred to me that I may have said something… indelicate, and considering you ran halfway across the continent, it seems you agree with the statement,” Dorian’s posture is causal.

“Wonderful,” Arthur doesn’t spit, but it is a near thing, “I’m so glad you’re capable of reflection.”

Dorian raises an eyebrow, “now who is being unfair?”

Arthur pauses, “what do you want?”

“Someplace private,” Dorian tilts his head back.

For a second Arthur stares wistfully at the food and then back at Dorian. Tension has crept into the mage’s shoulders. Arthur shrugs.

“Very well, lead the way.”

Dorian blinks but pushes from the door. They walk in silence, which does nothing for Arthur’s frayed nerves. Solas isn’t in his usual spot for once, but Dorian keeps walking up the stairs. Arthur starts fidgeting with the charm around his wrist.

A minute later they veer into Dorian’s alcove. It’s not exactly private, but Arthur has noticed that most people avoid the “evil tevinter” when they’re given the option to. He supposes it as private as it will get without them using a bedroom. Arthur doesn’t want to taint his sleeping space with a conversation like this and he wouldn’t allow Dorian too.

“As I said, I was an ass to you, and I apologize.”

Arthur leans against the bookshelf and forces his muscles to relax, “okay.”

“It was a bad reaction, but not because of your question,” Dorian says.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Arthur points out, “please speak plainly.”

Dorian runs a hand through his hair, and Arthur purses his lips in surprise.

“I hadn’t thought that you wanted a relationship,” Dorian says, “at least not in the way you implied.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, “what way could I have meant?”

“A,” Dorian hesitates, “port in the storm perhaps. Something fun but nothing more.”

He locks eyes with Dorian. Never had he thought that he gave that impression, in fact his mother would be impressed by how much courting he had done. Although there had been a distinct lack of gifts. Maybe Hazel knew where he could find someone discreet enough to tailor the traditional handkerchief token?

“Dorian,” Arthur frowns and pauses, “I never meant you to think like that, if my intentions were not clear-”

“They were.”

That causes Arthur to tilt his head, “then?”

“Where I come from, anything between two men… is about pleasure. It’s accepted but taken no further.”

“Ah,” Arthur pushes off the bookshelf, “it’s a good thing we’re in Orlais then.”

Dorian stares at him wide-eyed, “it’s foolish to hope for more.”

Arthur stops himself just far enough away that he doesn’t crowd Dorian, “then let’s be foolish.”

“Hard habit to break,” Dorian’s voice is watery.

“Hm,” Arthur leans forward and waits for Dorian to meet him before pressing further.

Yes. He could get very used to being foolish.