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Chapter Text

The Fade had always been a place of peaceful respite for Solas. The ever-changing landscapes twisting into the once beautiful buildings he knew so well, the variety of spirits and entities wandering the vast, almost alien-looking lands beyond the Veil. Solas took a breath and allowed his mind to sculpt and shape the path before him. As the Elvhen walked along the road he had created, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a smile as a group of blue lights joined him. The playful wisps danced just out of his reach, their soft giggles and mischievous whispers tickling his sharp, pointed ears were a pleasant welcome. He soon waved them off gently, watching them flutter away into the distance so that he could be alone with his thoughts. Solas soon found a nice spot under what looked to be a majestic and beautiful willow tree in bloom now nothing but a petrified stump in the waking world. He remembered this tree from his youth along with the small pond that was now manifesting nearby. 

He leaned his back against the bark then slowly lowered himself to the ground. He witnessed a village flickering in to view on the opposite side of the pond and with it, brought forth bittersweet memories. Visions of his mother gathering herbs by the water banks, his father teaching him basic spell casting... Images of friends long gone waving at him. Solas held his face in his hands. “How did it come to this?” He asked no one, not really expecting a reply. 

“What’s this?” A distorted masculine voice seemed to coo. “A veritable feast of regret and sorrow? How delectable.” 

The Elf threw his head back as the willow tree broke and twisted itself around him. He quickly scrambled to his feet as the once gracefully swaying branches weaved into a familiar beast with six glowing red eyes. Solas backed away from it as the demon further morphed into the form of a great black wolf the size of a dragon. Its maw opened forming a twisted grin. The corporeal creature licked its chops hungrily before staring down at the Elvhen mage. Its nostrils flared and it shuddered as though smelling a heady vintage. “A splendid feast indeed. So much sorrow... so much regret...” It purred as it stalked closer towards the man. This demon often took the form of the mage's inner beast. Solas’ heel brushed against what felt like the edge of a cliff. He spared a quick glance, staring at the abyss below before returning his attention back to the demon. He was trapped yet he calmly stared up at the monster. 

The monstrous wolf opened its gaping maw once more, intent on devouring the mage when two of its six eyes spotted something rapidly approaching. Noticing Regret’s sudden hesitation, Solas turned his own gaze upwards and felt his eyes widen in disbelief. A ball of purple lightning etched with gold sparks slammed straight into the demon’s head, sparking violently, singeing its fur. Regret reared its head back, shaking it back and forth, howling in pain as the sound of beating wings drew closer. “You will not be feasting on anyone, Regret.” A new voice spoke. It was feminine, gentle yet carried weight. It spoke once more. “Begone, demon. You will find no meal here. 

Solas watched as a dragon landed before him preventing the demon from drawing any closer. At first, the mage thought the vision before him was his old friend Mythal in dragon form but soon frowned. Upon closer inspection, this creature was smaller than Mythal’s beast form and had different colored scales. Mythal had rich purple scales tinged with dark reds. This one had deep sapphire blue scales and parallel streaks of gold trailing down the length of her neck. When she whipped her head to stare briefly at Solas, he felt his breath catch in his chest. Her eyes were a lovely shade too. Crystalline blue with peridot green edges, like the Fade. She quickly returned her attention to Regret who tried advancing once more and the dragon slammed her forehead against the demon’s earning a strangled snarl. Regret glared at the Elvhen mage but scampered off deeper into the Fade. Within moments, the area around the two returned to the willow tree from earlier. 

“Your assistance is appreciated but I had everything under control.” Solas stated politely. “It is not the first time I have dealt with that demon.” 

The dragon turned her head to glance at the mage and she hummed slightly. “Just because one has experience with these sorts of things does not mean they always have the strength to face them.” She turned to full face Solas. “You seem to be carrying a lot of negative emotions, and it weighs heavily on you. I am surprised only one demon was attracted to it.” She paused noticing Solas avert his eyes from her then brought the tip of her wing to his chin and lifted it gently. “Whatever burdens of your past are weighing you down, it best to let them go. Things happen for a reason.” 

He remained silent.  

“The river of life takes you where you are needed, not always where you want to be. Sometimes the waters are full of turmoil and strife before they settle along the banks. Other times, it is peaceful and occasionally, you find yourself exactly where you need to be and want to be.” 

Solas felt his brow crease into a frown. “The river can also be deceptive and vast. Its inhabitants even more so.” 

The dragoness tilted her head to the side, folding her wings close to her body. “You speak both truth and lies. Some denizens below are dark and cruel. Others are helpful and kind. The view of things is often based on one’s perspective.” She then turned her head to the sky, and Solas noticed that the Fade had changed to the most beautiful night sky he had ever seen. “Take the Fade, for example. Dreams give it shape. Imagination is the brush, and life, much like the river is our paint. We are artists of our own canvas of life. Are we not viewed by others in a similar manner?” 

“Yet we have the power to shape others.” The mage countered. 

A chuckling growl left the creature’s throat. “True again, but we are merely a different color or point of interest on their canvas intricately woven into the pattern of their masterpiece.” Solas felt his mouth open, only for it to close in response. For once, he was at a loss for words. They continued to converse for what seemed like hours until the dragoness brought her head towards him as though she were etching his image into her memory. Her eyes were wild looking yet there was a deep sense of wisdom and power within them that he had not seen in ages. She smiled a scaly smile. Suddenly, the air around them shifted, rippling like a pebble disturbing the surface of water. The dream seemed to be ending. Before Solas could attempt to press his visitor, he found that she had vanished, and he slowly felt his body stirring from his restful slumber.  

Chapter Text

The air was tense over the small village of Haven. All of Thedas were anxious as the Mage and Templar war waged on. Ever since the events in Kirkwall ended in a blood bath between the Mage’s Circle and the Templars three years ago, the Chantry of Andraste had been asked to oversee a peace conference with Divine Justinia residing to try and quell the unrest. Further up the mountain, near an outpost a few miles away from the Temple of Sacred Ashes and keeping himself hidden in the shadows of the dense pine trees, was an elvhen mage. He wore tan robes of the humble sort and wrappings of cloth made from halla fur around his bare feet. He carried a staff made of elder wood, its branches enveloping a brilliant moonstone on top while a spear-like blade adorned the bottom and was lightly grazing the snow-covered ground.  

Though he remained hidden, Solas could not help but grumble under his breath. More and more Templars, Mages and devout followers of the Chantry were continuing to flock towards the temple, making any chance of advancing undetected practically impossible. After a few more minutes ticked by, and he was certain that he was alone, the elf finally emerged from his cover and heaved a relieved sigh, watching his breath dance in the cold air. Just as he was about to move forward, a sound in the distance caused his sharp elvhen ears to twitch and he turned his head. Galloping past him was a dracolisk; a beast that was an amalgamation of a horse and a draconic creature and above all, was more commonly found in the country of Tevinter. Odd . He thought. In that brief moment of the animal sprinting past him, Solas took note that dracolisk had scales as black as midnight along with milky-white nearly opaque eyes and white spots flecking its body. But it was the mount’s rider that had caught his attention the most.  

Astride the beast wasn’t a Tevinter mage but an elvhen woman with raven black hair donning what could only be described as Dalish rogue armor. Again, how odd.  

Unfortunately, as quickly as she appeared, the woman was gone before he could get a good look at her. Solas shrugged to himself. He had seen plenty of elves in his travels. Both the bare-faced city elves and the vallasin tattooed faced Dalish elves. Still, when he arrived at the outpost, the mage couldn’t stop thinking about his brief encounter. He ignored the brief stares from the other visitors and found a nice stone wall to lean against and regain his bearings. After propping his staff against the wall beside him, Solas brought his palms to his face, whispering a faint warming spell to thaw his freezing hands and sighed, reveling in the brief comfort. To his right, he spotted many soldiers talking amongst the chantry priests and priestesses. No doubt fretting about the conference at the Temple of Sacred Ashes , Solas thought before glancing to his left and he felt his body tense up, for staring directly back at him was none other than the dracolisk from earlier. However, this time, it had no rider. The creature continued to stare at the mage and Solas frowned. No. The beast is not observing me in particular but , he thought to himself as he turned his gaze towards the temple. Perhaps he is staring up at the place his mistress is residing ?  

After gathering his strength for another hour, Solas reached for his staff, keen on moving onwards. His quarry was here. That much he knew, and he silently berated himself for being so desperate and not thinking things through. If he had, he wouldn’t even be here. He started walking past the dracolisk when he noticed the mount snorting, gnashing its fangs and pawing the snow with its clawed feet in distress. The Elvhen mage was about to attempt calming the animal when an explosion from the temple’s direction drew everyone’s attention. A dark green beam shot upwards to the sky. Clouds spiraled around the hole in the sky and Solas could see spirits and demons falling into the waking world in force. The mountain where the temple once stood suddenly collapsed, a tidal wave of snow, rock and trees rushing towards them and the last thing he said before chaos ensued was...  

“ Avalanche !”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The outpost was in disarray. So many lives at the Conclave were lost. The sole survivor was a Dalish woman the scouts found crawling out of a rift leading into the Fade. Solas was busy assisting with helping the wounded when he saw a woman with short black hair donning armor belonging to the Seekers rushing over to the scouts. From what he could hear, they were trying to rouse the unconscious elf woman only for them to yell in alarm when the hole in the sky let out a thunderous CRACK and began to slowly expand outwards. At the same time, a dark green light erupted from the Dalish woman’s left hand and seemed to creep up her arm like corrupted serpents. Solas immediately moved towards the group, his eyes furrowing. She must have been in contact with the Orb . He thought to himself.  

“You are wasting your breath, Seeker.” He stated calmly, ignoring the sounds of blades being drawn. “This woman needs medical attention before she can ever be interrogated.”  

The Seeker, who he overheard a scout call Cassandra, glared at him suspiciously. “You are an apostate...” She examined after giving the mage a once over.  

“An apostate who can help.” Solas countered then gestured to the elvhen woman his eyes following her as the human scouts dragged her off to a tower. “I have expertise in dealing with injuries such as this. If she is not tended to immediately, she will die, and you will lose your only source for answers.”  

Cassandra furrowed her brow as she pondered the elvhen mage’s words carefully. At first, Solas was almost certain that the Seeker would disregard his aid but to his surprise, she gestured for him to follow her soldiers. Solas briskly began to tail after the men only to grunt softly when the Seeker snatched his shoulder roughly. “Don’t make me regret allowing your aid, Apostate.”  

“Understood, Seeker.” Solas bit back a smart remark before being released and he rolled his shoulder slightly. He made a mental note not to push his luck with the woman as he strolled towards the tower only to shake his head when he found the strange dracolisk giving some of the survivors a tough time. From what he saw, the creature seemed to be trying to get to its mistress only to constantly be denied.  

“That’s it! I’m putting this damn animal down!” A commanding officer snapped only to wince when the apostate strolled over and snatched the man’s wrist. “Unhand me, Knife-Ear!”  

Solas slowly exhaled through his nose before opening his eyes to a fierce glare, doing his best to keep from punching the human in front of him. “That creature is merely worried about its rider who is in custody. Allow me to settle it down.” The soldier flicked his gaze between the elf and the dracolisk before scoffing and leaving the two alone. Solas reached out to the draconic snout and placed his palm on the beast’s nose feeling the animal snort and growl anxiously. He then firmly gripped the mount’s reins and gently brought its head down. “I understand that you are worried about your mistress, but there is little you can do with snapping at others. Take comfort in knowing that I will be tending to her but only if you promise to behave.”  

The dracolisk’s eyes bore through the mage’s own gaze intensely and after a minute or so, it calmed down and nodded its head. With the beast pacified at the moment, Solas entered the tower building only to struggle with maintaining a neutral expression.  

The sight before him made his blood boil. The scouts had bound the young Dalish woman’s hands together with ropes and practically left her shivering on the stone floor alone. “Barbarians...” He muttered angrily under his breath as memories flashed briefly through his mind. “Didn’t even give her the dignity of a blanket.” Solas approached the woman calmly and slowly, not wanting to startle her if she were to wake. However, he was relieved to find that she was indeed out cold and knelt down beside her. She was rather pretty, with long raven black hair tied into a ponytail and she had a soft angelic face. Curiously, he noticed a lack of markings on her skin. Most Dalish elves had them, yet she did not. He soon scolded himself. This wasn’t the time to get lost by pretty faces. He muttered a quick apology before somehow coaxing the woman into a sitting position beside him while he inspected her palm  

The mark on her left hand looked like a dark green spiral that would crackle violently in sync with the growing Breach outside and the spiral's arms continued to crawl further up her skin. What was alarming to Solas about her was the woman’s lack of visible pain. Any ‘normal’ person would be screaming, wincing or at least yelping from the foreign magic, yet here she was leaning against him, not making any noise of distress. She just seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He cradled her injured hand carefully and began to stabilize the mark. Tranquil emerald green magic wove into the chaotic anchor but stubbornly refused to heed the mage’s will. Solas growled as he tried pouring more of his magic into his spell yet it still wasn’t enough. He nearly gave up when a flicker of lightning sparked under the mark.  

Well, it seems you are more than a simple rogue . Solas thought as an idea sprang to mind. If my magic won’t settle the Anchor, then perhaps fusing my magic with yours should do the trick .  

As if proving his thoughts correctly, dark purple lightning magic wove around his own and the mark began to stabilize. He watched as the mark even seemed to partially hover over the skin on her palm by her lightning magic. Such power and focus, even in an unconscious state, was enough to once again leave him speechless. While he had hoped to fully remove it from the woman, he would have to try again later. Right now, she was stable and showing signs of waking and the outpost was still in chaos. With his work done, Solas gently laid the woman back down and left the cell. Much to his annoyance, yet not entirely unsurprised, he found Cassandra waiting outside.  

“Well?” She inquired brusquely.  

Solas closed the door quietly behind him. “She is stable and will be waking up shortly. I recommend allowing her to garner her strength. She was practically on death’s door.”  

Cassandra nodded slightly. “Very well. Move along.”  

Solas bowed his head before departing from the tower. He turned his head towards the Breach and tapped his chin. He could try sealing it himself but the only way to the spiraling vortex was through the dilapidated trail leading up to the destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes. He clicked his tongue but finding his resolve, decided to make his way up the trail. What a mess...  

Chapter Text

Amanatha awoke to the sound of shouting outside, followed by a throbbing headache and a slight itching sensation coming from her hand. Her eyes fluttered opened and quickly became aware of the cold stone against her cheek. As the room came into view, she found herself tied up within a cell, stripped of her weapons. She also discovered that she was not alone because she spotted what appeared to be four armed guards watching her, and she frowned. She managed to sit up with some difficulty and crossed her legs under her. She glanced down at her palm when she saw a flash of green, but she didn’t have the chance to examine it because the door to the room opened. There were two women. One with short black hair donning armor bearing a strange eye as the sigil. The second woman had a hood covering her head, probably a spymaster or something, but the Dalish woman swore she saw strands of red hair tucked behind her ears. 

The expressions on their faces had Amanatha wary and on edge. Her eyes followed the black-haired woman, then her ears slightly twitched as she listened to her stand behind her. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” The woman demanded icily as she continued to circle the bound elf. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” 

Amanatha remained silent at first but hissed when the short-haired woman grabbed her left wrist just as the strange mark crackled to life and seemed to be attempting to spread across her hand like a rash but failed and instead left an itching sensation on her palm. Memories trickled into her mind as she began to recall what had happened. “I don’t recall this mark being here. But I remember the Temple...”  

“Do you remember how this all began?” The hooded woman spoke up this time, her voice heavy with the familiar Orlesian accent. 

“I was sent by my clan as extra security for the Conclave...” Amanatha explained as she searched her fragmented memories. “I remember arriving and feeling a sense of unease. There was shouting... and chanting. Like someone performing a ritual... I think...” 

The short-haired woman gestured for the elf to continue. “And?” 

“I remember a flash of green then next I was running from something... but I wasn’t alone. There was a woman with me. We were trying to escape.” Amanatha brought her bound hands to her head, gripping a corner of her scalp as though trying to make sense of the fragments. “We were almost out but then... it cuts off. I can’t remember anything else. Wait! Where’s Thestral? Is he alright?!”  

The two women turned their heads before moving away from her. She could faintly hear the two whispering to each other but what was being said, Amanatha did not know. She stiffened when the short-haired woman strolled over to her and knelt down. The warrior woman informed her that she would have to see what was going on. She helped the elf to her feet and gripped her shoulders, guiding her outside. Amanatha shielded her eyes as they adjusted to the light but once her vision cleared, she was greeted with a horrible sight. The mountain where the Temple once stood looked like a volcano had erupted. All around her were soldiers tending to the wounded civilians and more. But what had her shaking in her boots was the thin green ribbon like cyclone that was spiraling just over where the once beautiful building stood so proudly.  

“We call it the ‘Breach’.” The armor-clad woman explained. “It’s a-” 

“It’s a massive rift that's connecting this world to the Fade.” Amanatha finished earning a curt look from the short-haired woman. “I have some knowledge on these particular phenomenon... Although, I doubt this is the only rift... However, regardless of the situation, if this thing isn’t closed soon or at least stabilized, we will all be in trouble.” 

“You are not concerned about the mark on your hand killing you?”  

Amanatha glanced down at her palm as the magic crackled to life once more as its big counterpart expanded slightly. “Regardless of if it’s killing me or not,” she pointed at the Breach, “I’m pretty sure that thing is a bigger problem. So, let’s not waste any more time.”  

The two made their way across a bridge disregarding the sneers and glares from the survivors. They were almost to the opposite gate leading to the path up to the temple when Amanatha stumbled. A bystander had collected a rock and threw it at the back of the Dalish woman’s head, causing her to stumble forward with a nasty looking head wound on her temple. The short-haired woman reprimanded the instigator before helping the elf through the gate. She inspected the injury before removing a piece of linen from her pocket to wrap the wound. The woman explained that her name was Cassandra, and she was a Seeker for the Templar order. She even apologized for the cruel behavior of the bystander. Spurred on by shock and anger, the survivors of the devasting event saw Amanatha as the sole culprit. They believed she was the prime suspect who murdered the Divine Justinia. “There will be a trial. I can promise no more.” Cassandra said solemnly as she sliced the ropes off the Dalish woman’s wrists. 

“You and I both know Dalish elves like me will just be executed out of prejudice.” The elf growled as she rubbed her chaffed skin. “After all, it seems that is what humans are good at these days throughout Thedas. Kill the elf. ‘They’re the obvious suspect’. Or ‘kill the elf. No one will care about a knife-ear'.”  

Cassandra remained silent and proceeded to lead the way. Streaks of green race across the skies, some striking mountain sides nearby or crashing just inches away from the two. They were halfway crossing another bridge when another flash of green lightning struck a few feet in front Amanatha and the stone structure crumbled beneath their feet. The two women tumbled and rolled down landing upon what was once a running river now frozen solid. The elf hissed as she sat up then tensed when a green and black mass began to bubble before her. Soon, a hunched-over figure emerged looking around in what could only be described as confusion and roared at the two, brandishing sharp claws. Cassandra put herself between the Shade and the elf, shield raised and morning star club in hand. Amanatha was about to stop the Seeker but shook her head the woman engaged the creature. But the elf did not have time to remain idle for another black mass began bubbling before her again. Amanatha frantically scanned the area for a weapon and found a bow but no quiver or even an arrow. She frowned but she would make do. 

She leapt away from the manifested demon’s claws, landing on a rock where she hooked her fingers along the bowstring and pulled it to full draw. She focused on her mana, sparks of lightning crackling and shaping itself into an arrow. The elf took aim and fired watching the arrow pierce through the demon in a brilliant display of electricity. Cassandra had just eradicated her target when she witnessed the elf’s magical attack, and she stormed over to the woman. “Drop your weapon!” She ordered. “Now!” 

Amanatha glanced down at the bow, rolling her eyes before kneeling down to drop her weapon. “Have it your way.” She scoffed though in reality; she didn’t need a weapon to begin with. 

Thankfully, Cassandra was smarter than she looked. She couldn’t protect the elf, and she would be remiss if she expected the woman to be defenseless, though seeing that the elf was a mage told her otherwise since mages didn’t really need weapons to wield magic though it did help them channel their powers better. “Why didn’t you say you were a mage?” 

“You never asked.” Amanatha pointed out as she took point. 

They sprinted further up the hill and just as they were rounding the bend, they discovered what looked to be a rift leading into the Fade along with several scouts fighting a few Shades that had emerged from the portal. Fighting alongside them was a dwarf firing an interesting looking crossbow and an elven mage. Amanatha wasted no time, not even listening to Cassandra’s voice as she rushed into the fray knocking a Shade that was sneaking up on the apostate with a kick back into the rift it fell through. Before she could even catch her breath, the elvhen mage snatched her left wrist and just as she was about to pull her hand free, the mage brought her palm towards the rift. The mark sparked and a strange light shot forth, seemingly stitching the rift into virtually non-existence as though it was merely a cloud of mist. The warriors stared in shock as the rift closed and the Dalish woman turned her head towards the elf still holding her hand. 

“What did you do?” She inquired warily nodding her head from his gaze to his hand still gripping her wrist. 

The bald mage tilted his head curiously. “I did nothing.” He stated, slowly removing his hand from hers. “The credit goes to you.” 

“Least this thing is good for something.” Amanatha grumbled as her own magic sparked around the mark as though containing it. Somehow. Her thoughts were pulled away when her fellow elf started elucidating about the mark. Apparently, he theorized that the strange thing on her hand would possibly close the Fade rifts, and he seemed rather pleased that he was proven correct. However, when Cassandra questioned him about closing the Breach with it, the elf grimaced. Amanatha assumed that was a possibility too. Either way, she was holding or rather, bearing the key to fixing the whole mess. 

“Good to know!” The dwarf finally piped into the conversation while adjusting his gloves. “And here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” 

The dwarf soon sauntered over towards the group, smirking as he gave them a flourished bow. He was... overly dressed, in Amanatha’s opinion wearing what she assumed were merchant robes that had revealed the short man’s chest, and his hair was a bright orange, pulled back into a short stubby ponytail. “Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller and occasionally, unwanted tagalong.” He gave a wink to Cassandra who merely sneered in irritation. The Dalish woman nodded her head smiling softly while absentmindedly listening to the two banter. 

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” The elvhen mage introduced himself, a hand on his chest covering a pendant of sorts. The bone of a wolf jaw from the looks of it. He gave a small polite bow. 

The Dalish woman did a small curtsey in response out of instinct. “Amanatha.” 

Solas’ brow quirked slightly at her name. “I am pleased to see you still live.” 

“Did I lose more memories than I initially thought? Have we met before?” Amanatha asked in confusion ignoring the fact that what she had said was probably the most used pick-up line in history. “If we have, I apologize for forgetting.” 

The mage was about to answer when Varric chuckled in amusement, shaking his head. “You and Chuckles there never met until today. What he had meant to say was ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’.” 

“ Chuckles ?” 

“Anyway!” Solas cleared his throat and turned his attention to the Seeker. “Cassandra, you should know that the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen and while your prisoner is indeed a mage, I find it difficult for any mage having such power.” 

“Understood...” Cassandra sighed before the four of them carried onwards. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

To say there were a lot of demons was an understatement though luckily, none of them were too difficult to handle. Amanatha had just sealed another rift leading up to the final stretch towards the Breach. All they had to do was cross this bridge and follow the pathway upwards. The Dalish woman leaned against a tree to catch her breath and rubbed her brow when she noticed Solas approaching her. He handed her a waterskin to which she gratefully accepted. 

“You are becoming quite proficient at this.” He complimented, taking the waterskin back.  

“Now let's hope it works on the big one.” Varric quipped earning a snort from Amanatha. 

She pushed open the doors to the bridge strolling across the bridge. She noticed the woman known as Leliana talking with a man in Chantry robes and he looked less than amused. He waited for the group to stop by the table. Leliana was about to introduce Amanatha when the old man shook his head. 

“I know who the knife-eared woman is.” He sneered before pointing at the elvhen woman. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you, Seeker to take this creature to Val Royeaux to face execution.” 

Cassandra furrowed her brow at the chancellor in disbelief then shook her head, ignoring his order. He had no authority over her or Leliana for that matter. The two served Justinia though the Chancellor was quick to remind the ladies of that fact. Amanatha felt her head throb. All they were doing was arguing before she finally hissed. “Pardon me on this lovely banter, but is the Breach not the most pressing matter right now?” She did not even allow the hahren a moment to counter her. “Either get out of my way and let me handle the Breach or stand here prattling like old wenches at teatime and die a death most gruesome. Your choice.” 

The Chancellor, the Seeker and her companions stared at her in astonishment. Varric was doing his best not to laugh, and he looked up at Solas. “She’s got fire.” He said with a chuckling huff. 

Once the initial shock wore off, the Dalish suddenly took charge of the situation. She pointed at the map before her and seemed to be going over quick strategies to ensure as much survival of soldiers as possible. She then lifted her head at Solas and Varric then motioned for Cassandra to follow her off the beaten path leading up to the mountain pass. Cassandra and Varric were struggling up the incline while it looked like Solas and Amanatha were just taking a leisurely stroll. There was path leading up to what could only be described as a tunnel and to make things even worse, the way up was by climbing up decrepit looking ladders that looked like they would shatter under the smallest of weight. Amanatha gripped one of the ladder’s rods tightly, testing the strength then proceeded climb up the wobbly ladder to the first platform then waited for the others. 

“The tunnels are just after that last platform up there. The path to the Temple lies just beyond.” Cassandra said as she climbed up to the platform first with Varric trailing behind her. Amanatha soon followed with Solas following at the back. 

“What manner of tunnel is this?” Solas called out breathlessly, tucking his chin into the warmth of his robes as the biting wind whirled around them. “A mine?” 

Cassandra hauled Varric up first when she made it to the platform then moved aside for Amanatha before moving on ahead. “It was part of an old mining complex. These mountains are full of such paths.” 

Solas almost made it to the top when the wooden rods beneath his feet gave out with a snap and he found himself clinging for dear life on the edge of the platform. Noticing her fellow elf hanging over the edge, Amanatha quickly pulled the man up and onto the platform. They both panted from the near-death experience before the sound of breaking wood caught their attention and the two cautiously peeked over the edge of their own perch, watching what remained of the ladder collapse onto the lower platform below and like dominos, winced when the final platform broke apart from the impact, literally preventing any chance of turning back. Amanatha glanced at Solas. 

“And to think that could have been you.” She chuckled wryly trying to lighten the mood as she stood up and extended her gloved hand towards him. 

Solas gripped her offered hand huffing as she hauled him to his feet. He brushed the dust and snow from his clothes then collected his fallen staff. “If we live through this, remind me to thank you.” 

About an hour later, they finally arrived at the ruins of the Temple. They also managed to save the missing scouts that Leliana mentioned beforehand. Even better, Solas noticed the lack of demons along the path. Good, we can have a reprieve. Amanatha thought as they pressed on. They walked cautiously through a narrow cavern of what once used to be the grand entrance to the temple. As they wormed their way through the passageway, Varric suddenly had a thought and threw a quick glance at Solas. “So...” He began, “Holes in the Fade don’t just accidently happen, right?” 

“Holes of this scale? No.” Amanatha answered, and the apostate quirked a brow of surprise at her but was grateful she could not see his expression. “Though it is possible if there is enough magic pressing up on the Veil.” 

“But there are easier ways of making things explode.” 

The Dalish woman snickered. “Indeed, and less taxing on the body.” 

Soon, the mirthful energy faded as the group entered what was once an audience chamber. Cassandra pointed to where a door used to be, informing Amanatha that the Dalish woman emerged from the Fade with spirit of a woman behind her, but no one knew who the spirit was. The woman was silent, her steps were tense, and she seemed to be on edge. She turned her head towards the wall of molten rock, still radiating heat from the thin veins of magma within. The further they delved, the more they found. Bodies, burnt to a crisp littered the area.  Some seemed to be cowering from something. Some kneeling down in prayer, and others appeared to be shielding themselves from an attack they had no chance of surviving. But that wasn’t what held the company’s attention. In the center of what was once the council chamber, hovering like demonic green chandelier, breaking, shattering and collapsing in on itself, only to repeat the process was a seal holding back the Breach overhead. Whatever courage Amanatha had was slowly whittling away.

((Below is a picture of Amanatha))

Chapter Text

“The Breach is a long way up...” Varric muttered as they emerged from around a corner. Amanatha was inclined to agree as she stared up past the seal and straight up towards the hole in the sky. Her elvhen ears twitched to the sounds of footsteps approaching and quickly turned around with her bow aimed at the source, ready to fire if needed. To her surprise, it was Leliana and her soldiers who managed to make it to the Temple. After speaking with Cassandra, the hooded woman motioned for the rest of the soldiers to take positions around the perimeter while Amanatha and the others made their way to the epicenter. Amanatha glanced at the Seeker and pointed out that she was uncertain if she could even reach the source of the Breach let alone close it. However, Solas pointed out from judging the magic radiating from the seal, this rift was the first and concluded that it was the key to closing the Breach. The Dalish woman shuddered but pressed forward. She couldn’t help but feel that same sense of unease as before. 

“Now is the hour of our victory.” A distorted voice echoed around them, “Bring forth the sacrifice.” 

“What... was that?” Amanatha asked now, really starting to feel anxious. This was something she was not used to. Not to mention, she felt as though she should recognize the voice but the memory was failing her. 

Solas looked around as they marched along a trench leading down towards the epicenter. “At a guess: The person who created the Breach.” 

Amanatha, Cassandra and Varric stared at each other before jogging ahead along the narrow crevices of molten rock that had formed around the once beautiful hallways. However, something red caught the dwarf’s eyes and he suddenly stopped to stare at the source of the red light. As did the rest of the group. Before them were spires of red crystals that pulsed with an eerie yet alluring light. Amanatha had never seen anything like it and drew closer only to be pulled away by Varric tugging her back. 

“I wouldn’t go near that, Spitfire.” He warned darkly, glaring at the stones. “That stuff is red lyrium.” 

Amanatha tilted her head in confusion. “Red lyrium? I thought there was only blue lyrium.” 

“So did we until a few years ago.” Varric stated. 

Lyrium was a mineral found deep underground and one of the primary sources of trade from the dwarves of Orzammar often found within a thaig or mine deposits. It was also extremely dangerous to mine as just being around the raw mineral would cause physical or psychological damage. When refined and processed properly, lyrium was used to make potions to replenish mana in mages and Templars. However, over time, lyrium could turn into an addiction. Red lyrium, according to Varric, was a highly potent and more addicting form of its blue cousin. More than likely due to being tainted by the Blight. The worst part was, just being near the stuff would cause some nasty side effects. 

“What is it doing here though?” The Seeker inquired looking at Amanatha who shrugged her shoulders. 

“Solas? Thoughts?” 

The apostate stared intently at the blood-red crystals. “It is possible that magic could have drawn upon lyrium within the temple and corrupted it.” 

They pressed on. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

A few minutes later, echoes from Breach resonated once more. “Keep the sacrifice still.” 

“Someone! Help me!” A new voice joined in. Female. Older sounding and from Cassandra’s reaction, could only belong to Divine Justinia. Amanatha found a ledge that led into the epicenter and hopped down. She slowly, warily approached the seal until she felt a tingling sensation from her palm bearing the mark and cautiously held it upwards. The mark sparked again, creating a thin veil around them as though putting on lens that cleared the echoes thoroughly. Justinia’s voice called out for help once more, but the voice that answered wasn’t the assailant. Responding to the plea was... Amanatha! 

“Let her go!” The Dalish woman’s voice ordered. 

“That was your voice!” Cassandra gasped turning towards Amanatha. “Most Holy called out to you! But-” 

“It might be best if we heard the entirety of the scene.” 

As if on cue, the veil began to clear further, and a hazy vision sprung forth before them. They saw the Divine Justinia suspended before a looming shadow with glowing orbs for eyes but no corporeal shape. There were other shadows too but like the larger one, had no real shape to them. Then a vision of Amanatha appeared with her bow drawn and aimed at the threat. “Let her go!” Her spectral self shouted at the enemy, eyes flicking around as though assessing her targets. The Divine craned her neck to glance over her shoulder at the elf woman. “Run while you can! Warn them!” Ordered the Divine urgently. 

“You again... We have an intruder.” The assailant seemed to sneer then pointed a shadowy claw towards her. “Slay the elf!” 

The vision fizzle into green sparks and the elf woman turned around. Cassandra had a look of shock on her face. The Dalish woman had spoken true. She was at the Temple, and she tried to save the Divine Justinia but now the Seeker had more questions. Who attacked the temple? What happened to the Most Holy? Unfortunately, no matter how hard Amanatha searched her memories, all she kept finding were blanks. Solas strolled past the two woman and circled around the sealed area. He called out to the two, temporarily distracting them before gesturing up at the Breach.  

“What we saw were, indeed, echoes of what had transpired here.” The apostate observed then added almost as an afterthought. “The Fade bleeds into this place... Seeker, this rift is not sealed but it is closed...” 

“But temporarily, it would seem.” Amanatha noted. “If the faint energies leaking from the seal are any indication. 

Solas nodded his head in confirmation. “I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened properly and then sealed safely.” 

“But wouldn’t opening it attract the attention of demons?” Amanatha pointed out with concern. “I mean I know some demons would more than take advantage of that.” 

“We do not have a choice. We will have to take that chance.” 

Amanatha frowned at the response. She looked at the rift then at her own hand. After a moment of deliberation, she motioned for her company to prepare themselves for whatever might happen. She held out her palm, gritting her teeth in concetration and the mark crackled to life. Lightning magic dance around the stream of rift magic striking the seal. Like a knife slicing through melted butter, the seal appeared to be unraveling. Upon the last ‘thread’ being pulled, a large gray beast almost twice the size of an ogre appeared, pulling at the Fade as though it were mere curtains. Amanatha swallowed hard. The creature had horns that twisted around behind its scalps like spires. The large spurs on its arms sparked with lightning so twisted one would think it was fire. It’s nine eyes swirled around as it examined its prey and its mouth form a sinister toothy grin. 

Amanatha grumbled as she drew her bow. “It had to be a Pride Demon...” 

The battle was fierce and lasted for nearly two hours! Dodging and weaving from the demon’s chained lightning whips to blinding the creature’s eyes proved to be rather taxing on the already tired elf’s body. Soon, she noticed that it constantly avoided the rift it came out of, and she smirked. She rushed towards the rift, sliding under the creature as he tried to pummel her and by the time he realized what she was up to, it was too late. The rift exploded and thin ribbons of the Fade whipped through the demon. The Pride Demon arched its head back, head turned towards the sky as it seemed to scream in pain, but it didn’t last long as it was suddenly sucked back into the world beyond the Veil. With the demon no longer a problem, Amanatha heard Cassandra shout at her to seal the Breach before anything else decided to show up. Amanatha sprinted towards the rift, and like the smaller ones from before, held out her hand and focused intently. Lightning and rift magic sprang forth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But he hardly had the chance to marvel at it for just as the final thread was sewn, there was an explosion followed by a shockwave that knocked the Dalish woman unconscious and sent her sprawling a few feet backwards. Cassandra’s soldiers along with everyone else found themselves looking up at the sky as a green and purple orb of magic shot up into the hole in the sky. There was a muffled sound, like thunder rolling in the distance, then a calming breeze whistling through the valley. The sky was still green from the Breach that still remained, but it no longer gave off the illusion of a festering infection and merely appeared as a green mist in the sky. There was a split-second of silence before the soldiers erupted in cheers and excitement, but the apostate paid no attention to their revelries. He knelt down besides Amanatha and placed a glowing palm over her but she did not stir. 

“Seeker. We must get her to a healer so that she may recover.” He instructed before scooping the poor soul in his arms. She’s lighter than expected. He thought briefly. “She is fading rapidly.” 

Cassandra jogged over. “We won’t be able to make it in time. The route we took before is destroyed, remember?” 

There was a screeching sound followed by the thundering beat of claws scraping stone and as the Seeker looked ahead, a black mass leapt over some debris skidding to a halt before the mage. The black dracolisk snorted, tossing his head urgently before bringing his snout to nudge Amanatha’s unconscious form. So, this creature does belong to her. Solas noted quietly as the animal snorted again, trying to rouse his owner to no avail. His body had a few scrapes and cuts, probably from his adventure through the valley to get to his mistress. Seeming to sense the seriousness of the situation, the dracolisk knelt down on his front legs and jerked his head at the mage to climb on his back. Not wasting any time, Solas obliged to the animal’s instructions and climbed on while he held on to the unconscious woman. 

“Look for the alchemist and tell him I gave the order to treat her!” Cassandra shouted as the dracolisk took off in a dead sprint, “Leliana, Varric and I will see if we can find any clues as to what happened here earlier!” 

Solas hardly heard the Seeker’s voice as the dracolisk was already racing across the ravaged valley towards the town of Haven. Amanatha was his responsibility right now. She bore the mark from his mistake. The least he could do until he could find a proper way to remove it was to take care of the Dalish woman until then. He spotted a man in burly looking armor with a fur mantle of his shoulders trying to intercept him and his charge. The dracolisk skid to a halt just an inch away from the human man and growled softly. After noticing Amanatha, the soldier pointed to the gates leading into Haven and barked an order at his subordinates to allow the apostate to pass while another rushed to find the alchemist. 

Solas quickly dismounted from the dracolisk and made his way into the small village where a man in robes carrying a satchel with medicinal herbs, poultices and salves greeted him. They entered an empty house that would serve as temporary housing for Amanatha and immediately set to work. Thankfully, she had minimal injuries but she was so cold to the touch. Overexertion, no doubt from the events of the day. The alchemist worked on grinding elfroot and what looked to be blossoms of arbor’s blessing into a fine powder before mixing it into a flask with boiling water. Amanatha was thrashing about and from what Solas could deduce, it had something to do with her mark. It wasn’t thrumming or crackling like it had done in the beginning but it seemed as though it was trying to meld with her own magic. That shouldn’t be possible. Solas thought as he managed to settle the energy down once more without the alchemist looking. No Dalish I’ve seen can possibly be accepted by Ancient Elvhen magic. 

Amanatha’s breathing was shallow and as the alchemist took her pulse, he frowned then wrote on a piece of parchment. “Possible mydriasis... her eyes are dilated and unresponsive to light.” The alchemist clucked his tongue as he propped her head carefully under a pillow and managed to coax some of the potion he crafted into her mouth. “I’ll be back in a few hours to give her another dose. Wish we could station a Templar here. Just to be safe.” 

“I will stay with her.” The apostate stated. “After all, if the mark starts to act up again, I am the only one here who can quell its outbursts.” 

The alchemist nodded his head before departing, leaving the potion as a precaution and instructing the man on how to properly administer the elixir should the patient start having issues. Once he was alone, Solas spared a glance at Amanatha who was still and calm thanks to the medicine then decided to see if there were any spirits still lingering that could give him some insight about the strange woman. He set up a few wards around the small shack then once satisfied, sat down cross-legged on the floor and closed his eyes, resting his hands in his lap. He took a breath then counted down from three. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the Fade only to frown at how quiet and empty the area looked. No doubt due in part to the Breach still looming in the sky. He spent almost three hours scouring the Fade for answers but was abruptly awoken by the sounds of someone scraping something against the home. 

His eyes opened slowly, and he silently collected his staff, a spell already dancing in his free hand. Lifting a few fingers from his staff, he flicked them slightly and there was a soft click from the lock. The door swung open but instead of Cassandra or the alchemist, it was the dracolisk. Solas let out an exasperated sigh but was relieved that it wasn’t an assassin. “Come to check on your mistress, falon?” 

The dracolisk lifted his head up in alarm upon hearing the apostate speak his name then nodded slightly. Solas pointed to the bed where Amanatha slept. “She is there. Weak from exhaustion, but she is alive, falon.”  

Thestral snorted before trying to enter through the small doorframe only to whine when he realized he was too big. He clawed at the floor in despair before reluctantly pulling himself away from the door. “Do not fear, my scaly friend. She is on the mend, but you must allow her to rest. If you wish to help her, you can stand guard and make sure no one tries to hurt her.” Solas suggested and Thestral lifted both front feet off the ground a little before trotting around the building almost as if on patrol. With the creature pacified once more, Solas returned to his meditative state. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Three days had gone by since Amanatha had been brought to the alchemist. She still had yet to waken; however, she had shown signs of rapid recovery. Her skin was no longer pale or clammy and her breathing and pulse were steady. The alchemist turned towards Solas who had remained by the woman’s side and requested that he informed the woman when she woke to make her way towards the chantry where Cassandra awaited her arrival. He then set down a set of fresh clothes for her change into before departing. Deciding to give the woman some privacy, the mage opted to wait for her outside. Solas was absentmindedly staring at the large green hole in the sky, nodding in satisfaction that for the moment anyway, the Breach was stable. Now he was dealing with Thestral trying to rest his head on the apostate’s shoulder much to his annoyance when they heard the door open and emerging from the small hut was the Dalish in question. 

“Ah, the Chosen of Andraste, a blessed heroine to save us all.” Solas teased watching the dracolisk trot over to his mistress who lovingly stroked his scaly cheek. 

Amanatha scratched Thestral’s chin before quirking a brow at the mage. “Sounds dashing. Am I riding into battle on a golden griffon?” She pressed her forehead to her mount’s head affectionately. “Though to be frank, I much prefer Dracolisks.” 

“Well, griffons are extinct I am afraid.” Solas added sadly but noticed a skeptical look on the woman’s face. “What?” 

“Maybe in some parts of Thedas they no longer inhabit, but I have seen a few that have survived. Perhaps you will too.” She hummed cryptically then giggled when the dracolisk nibbled her fingers gently. 

“Joke as you will, posturing is necessary. Before I forget, Cassandra is waiting for you at the Chantry.” 

Amanatha turned her head to follow the mage as he walked past her. “Perhaps we can talk later?” 

He hummed thoughtfully before offering a brief smile. “Perhaps.” 

((Amanatha's causal clothes))

Chapter Text

Amanatha was unsure how she felt about the whispers and strange reverence she was now being shown as she walked towards the Chantry. Those who once wished for her head now were praising her deeds for stabilizing the Breach. The Herald of Andraste as it were. Solas had probably called her this as a way to prepare her for the unexpected praise. In truth, she did not like it but thought it best to keep these thoughts to herself. She bowed her head respectfully as the pilgrims, villagers and soldiers parted a path for her and made her way into the Chantry. The Chantry was beautiful in its own way if a little common on the inside. Then again, this place was not being used for worship but instead a refuge for the late Divine and her attendants. Her elven ears twitched when she heard voices echoing in the back room and as she focused on the voices, realized that it was the Grand Chancellor. 

“She should be taken to Val Royeaux immediately to be tried by whomever becomes the Divine!” 

Cassandra’s voice spoke back firmly. “She is not guilty.” 

“The elf failed , Seeker!” Rodrick hissed. “The Breach is still in the sky. For all we know, she intended it that way.” 

Amanatha opened the door, and the Grand Chancellor pointed at the Dalish with a venomous gaze ordering the two guards standing on either side of the door to chain her. Cassandra looked at the guards who nodded and left the room. They weren’t going to follow through on the order either way. After a brief salute, all who were left in the room was Cassandra, Leliana, the Grand Chancellor and Amanatha. “The Breach is stable, Rodrick, but it is still a threat. A threat I cannot ignore.” 

“I did everything I could to close the Breach.” Amanatha stated. “It nearly killed me.” 

Rodrick scoffed. “Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you are concerned.” 

“Had I been fully recovered; I could have sealed it better. But alas, I was not.” 

“That aside,” Cassandra added as the elf and chancellor turned towards her. “The Breach is not the only threat we face. If the information Leliana found holds true, someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone the Most Holy did not expect.” 

Leliana threw the chancellor a nasty glare that radiated with distrust and it took the old man a moment to realize the silent accusation. He was being accused of being a suspect? But not the Dalish woman?! Amanatha internally groaned. The Breach was stable now, but it still needed to be repaired. She looked down at her left palm as the green spiral arms lightly pulsed with her own magic. Thankfully, the Seeker managed to stop the argument about to break loose, albeit temporarily, when she slammed a large, worn-out book with what looked to be the symbol of the Chantry of Andraste which was a sun with an eye in the center. 

“You know what this is, Chancellor?” Cassandra inquired sternly, a finger poking at the book’s binding. “A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn. We will close the Breach. We will find those responsible and we will restore order. With or without your approval.”  

On that final point, Rodrick narrowed his eyes before departing the room and slammed the door behind them. Amanatha picked up the hefty tome and began flipping the pages. From what she read; this was a directive straight from the Divine. The Inquisition was a last resort to stand against the chaos of the world. It even preceded the Chantry of Andraste itself if what she was reading was correct. Originally, the last Inquisition laid down their banner and formed the Templar Order and ironically, the Templars nowadays have lost their way. She vaguely remembered a story her mother had once told her, but she couldn’t quite recall the tale well for it was told when she was but a child. However, she pointed out to Cassandra that she probably acted too hastily. They were nowhere near ready. There was no leader, hardly any numbers from the survivors of the events, and as a final nail in the coffin, had absolutely no support from the Chantry. 

“We have you.” Leliana smiled and Amanatha frowned. 

“And if I refuse? I never asked for any of this.” 

Cassandra frowned slightly. “But you were sent to help, and you did but we cannot do this without you.” 

Leliana then rubbed her neck. “Not to mention, while some consider you ‘chosen’, many still see you as guilty and while I can tell you can hold your own in combat you, there is only so much you can do on your own. We can help you.” 

“Fenedhis...” Amanatha grumbled running a hand vigorously through her hair in frustration, but she chuckled dryly. “Vin. Count me in. But if you do not mind, I am still garnering my strength. Perhaps we can reconvene in a few hours?” 

The two women nodded their heads in agreement. They still needed to finish gathering what allies they could in Haven. In the meantime, Amanatha opted to explore her new and unexpected dwellings. It was nothing like her home in the Emerald Graves. There were no large trees and vegetation that looked like it would swallow the unworthy trespassers whole. No great beasts roaming the area, or stone wolves to guide her home if she ever lost her way. No. This place was covered in a heavy blanket of snow and ice with dark pine trees scattering about the area. The only animals Amanatha saw were the rabbit-looking rodents called nugs and a herd of druffalo in the distance. In all honesty, the woman didn’t particularly like the cold either, but she couldn’t deny the beauty she saw around the area.  

It was around sunset when the Dalish woman returned to the Chantry and met up with Cassandra. The two wandered the main chamber in silence before Amanatha looked at her hand curiously. Noticing the Seeker was staring, Amanatha offered a smile, reassuring her that she was alright. Cassandra informed her that with her mark and the Breach now stable, the elf had given them time to find a way to once again seal it. The only issue was the lack of mana needed to provide the mark enough power to do so. Preferably, the same amount of power used to open the Breach in the first place. 

“What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?” Joked the Dalish woman shaking her head. 

Cassandra chuckled slightly. “Hold on to that sense of humor.” 

They walked into the war room and were greeted by Leliana and two new faces Amanatha had never seen before, a woman in a resplendent gold but overly ruffled dress carrying a board with a candle and inkwell on it and a burly looking man in armor with a fur mantle over his shoulders and an impressive sword strapped to his hip. Cassandra introduced them as Commander Cullen of the Inquisition forces as well as a retired Templar and Joshepine Montilyet, an ambassador and chief diplomat. 

“Andaran atish’an.” Joshepine greeted the elf with a smile. 

Amanatha smiled. “Ma serannas.” 

“I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good.” Cassandra informed them and looked at her compatriots. Leliana suggested seeking out the rebel mages. Cullen was quick to shut the spymaster down. He stated the Templars were just as good a choice as any and had the experience to counter magic should it get out of hand. 

“We need power, Commander.” Cassandra reminded him. “Enough magic poured into the mark-” 

Cullen narrowed his eyes and shook his head as he cut the Seeker off. “Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach and weaken it so-” 

“Pure speculation.” The spymaster inferred sternly. 

“Leliana, I was a Templar. Remember? I know what they are capable of.” 

It was Joshepine’s turn to speak, and she reminded the group that neither group would even speak to the newly formed Inquisition. Not to mention, the Chantry had also denounced them or rather more specifically: Amanatha, herself. When she asked the ambassador whether or not it was because many theorized she was still the culprit, Joshepine shook her head in response. “Some are calling you, a Dalish Elf, the Herald of Andraste. That is what frightens them.” Joshepine explained then rolled her eyes. “The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy and we heretics are harboring you.”  

Probably the High Chancellor’s doing, no doubt. Amanatha thought. “Even with our options limited, we don’t have enough influence to even approach them. But if I may, I believe we need both the Templars and the Mages.” Before any of her advisors could speak, Amanatha held up her right hand. “Mages have more magical expertise in channeling magic, but the Templars are excellent at keeping excess magic from overwhelming the body and can keep it steady. But until then, we build our forces and that means helping out those in need.” 

“And I know where to start.” Leliana smiled coyly. “There is a Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle who may be able to help us. She sent word earlier and is not far from us. She is currently in the Hinterlands tending to the wounded. From my sources, she might know more about who is involved and her assistance will prove invaluable.” 

“Send a raven to her please.” Amanatha instructed. “In the meantime, we should rest up and gather our strength.”

Chapter Text

The small village was already buzzing with the news and were gathering at the Chantry to read the decree hammered onto the door. Amanatha watched as Leliana sent out two messenger ravens. She stared up at the Breach in the distance, absentmindedly caressing Thestral’s snout as he nuzzled her with warm reassurance. She was joined by Cullen who gave her a curt but warm smile before heading out to the training field outside the walls. She had spoken with Varric briefly after stabling her mount in the stables before heading towards the tavern and apothecary. She thought it would be a good idea to eat something since she had been out for quite some time. Unfortunately, the tavern didn’t have much in stock. Still, she managed to get some soup in her at least and even offered to gather more food for the tavern owner once she gained more strength. 

She was just exiting the building when she bumped into someone. “Ir abelas. My apologies. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. Oh!” She looked up and backed up a little. “Solas, right?” 

“You would be correct.” The Elvhen mage nodded. “I am pleased to see that you are rapidly recovering.” 

“I never properly thanked you for saving my life.” 

He waved his hand dismissively. “I am merely relieved that I was able to assist in some small way but perhaps we can continue our discussion now that we have a moment to breathe.” 

She smiled at his offer then suggested that they walked while they conversed as she walked down a small flight of stairs with the apostate following after her. He couldn’t really blame her for wanting to move around. After all, the poor woman hardly had any rest since her capture and had been unconscious for three days. It was strange to be walking alongside her but even more strange was that Solas did not mind it in the slightest. 

“What brought you here, Solas?” She asked, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Merely looking for more knowledge hidden within the memories of ancient ruins.” He stated simply. “I often journey into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I have watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past of ancient wars, both famous and forgotten. After all, every great war has its heroes. I am curious to see which one you will be.” 

Amanatha tilted her head to one side. “So, you are a Fade-Walker?” 

“A crude but accurate statement, though I much prefer the term I've'an'virelan or ‘Dreamer Mage’.” Solas corrected calmly while expertly hiding his surprise. Not many Dalish used that term. He silently wondered how she came by the term. 

The Dalish woman hummed curiously. “Have you ever had any issues with the giant spiders?” 

“Haha. Thankfully, no. I do set wards though and I often leave food for them, and they seem content to live and let live.” 

“Spiders don’t like me in general...” Amanatha pouted as Solas chuckled in amusement. “Though as amazing as it is to find new memories and knowledge, one can find demons wandering about. Still... the thrill of finding the remnants of a thousand-year-old dream? How could anyone pass that up.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” The mage hummed slightly. “I shall stay at least until the Breach has been closed.” 

“Was that in doubt?” 

He spared a glance at the woman as they stopped along a worn-down trail. “We are apostates surrounded by Chantry forces in the middle of a mage rebellion and while Cassandra has been accommodating, you understand the cautions we must undertake.” 

“You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.” 

“How would stop them?” He inquired skeptically. 

Amanatha’s blue-green eyes seemed to glow with determination as she answered with such conviction that it could make even a pride demon back down. “However, I had to.” 

He was momentarily at a loss for words as they continued to make their way back to Haven. From what he had overheard Cassandra and Leliana, Amanatha certainly had a challenge ahead. With the Templars and mages still warring with one another, she would eventually have to choose which group would be best suited to help her, and the newly reborn Inquisition close the Breach. They continued to stroll along the path, the sounds of metal being struck on an anvil at the smithy. They could even hear the mock battle cries in the training yard where some of the conscripts were sparring. Solas cleared his throat once more. 

“Closing the Breach is our primary goal, but I hope we might also discover what was used to create it.” He said thoughtfully then added, “Any artifact of such power is dangerous. The destruction of the Conclave proves that much.” 

Amanatha detected a note of bitterness on the tall elf’s tongue but was not sure whether or not that last quip was towards himself or something else entirely. “You sound almost certain that whatever created that explosion wasn’t destroyed in the process.” 

He made a sweeping gesture towards her. “You survived, did you not?” 

He then went on excitedly that such an artifact had to be something not seen in this age. The apostate also was adamant that unless he saw the artifact destroyed with his own eyes, he would not believe it possible. One thing the two agreed on was that it would be in everyone’s best interest to have such an artifact recovered and swiftly. However, as it stood, the artifact was no longer around the area. They stopped at the stables where the Dalish woman began to groom and tend to the needs of her mount. He watched as the woman delicately washed and dried the dracolisk’s scales until they shone like obsidian.  

“You are Dalish, are you not?” 

Amanatha peeked around Thestral’s neck. “Why do you ask? Do I act like a typical Dalish?” 

“Far from it. Most clans I encountered were either hostile or scoffed at the knowledge I had to offer. You, however, are different.” He shrugged. “That is why I am asking.” 

Amanatha went back to her objective, smiling when Thestral purred at the massage she was giving him. “My clan, that is clan Lavellan, and I are not the typical Dalish you have probably encountered. Unlike most clans, I and my clan do not worship the so-called Elvhen Gods.” 

That caught Solas’ attention. Most clans he had encountered did worship the Elvhen gods. Yet she claimed her clan did not. He felt his curiosity gnaw at him more like a dog gnawing on a bone. “Oh? Why is that?” He asked in wonder. 

“Because they weren’t actually gods to begin with. The other clans strive to remember a time best left alone. It is one thing to preserve history, learn from it and teach the truth, but it is another to try and bring the past back when one knows so little about it.” She vented as she looked at the mage. “I respect that they are trying to recover what was lost but, I think that era has ended and the Dalish should be seeking ways to become even better than what they are now.” 

“You surprise me.” He admitted then noticed that she seemed somewhat sad when she said her piece, but he did not press her. Instead, he opted to change the subject. “Why a dracolisk?” 

“Because they are more than they appear. They may seem scary and unruly, perhaps even monstrous but,” Amanatha smiled as she draped a warm blanket over Thestral’s body and fastened it, “to those who they trust, they are loyal friends to the end. Anyway, you have asked me plenty of questions. May I, in turn, ask you some?” 

Solas nodded his head slightly. “I will answer what I can.” 

“Do you happen to recall any memories from the Fade about Arlathan?” 

The mage closed his eyes in thought. He did indeed have memories of the once beautiful empire. He dropped his gaze towards the woman noticing the water trough that was once empty now full of crystal and narrowed his eyes suspiciously then realizing Amanatha was still awaiting his reply, returned his gaze to hers. “More specifically, Elvhenan was the empire and Arlathan was its greatest city. A place of magic and beauty beyond imagination now lost to time.” He noticed her expression was one of genuine curiosity and eagerness to learn. She nodded her head for him to continue. “We hear stories of the Ancient Elves living in trees and imagine wooden ramps or Dalish aravels. Instead, imagine spirals of crystal twining through the branches, palaces floating among the clouds. Imagine beings who lived forever, for whom magic was as natural as breathing.” 

He smiled as he witnessed the dreamy look on Amanatha’s face as she listened, and he could tell that she had indeed pictured what he had just described to her. “It must have been beautiful.” She said with a hum, and he nodded once again. “What about Elvhen magic? Is it the same as magic used by humans?” 

“Haha... yes and no.” Solas responded with a brief shake of his head. “Magic is magic, just as water is water. But it can be used in different ways.” 

“So, like how Dalish is practical magic?” 

Solas smiled. “Exactly. But there is also magic that is more subtle. A legacy from when the Elvhen people were immortal. Would you believe me if I told you that the immortality of the Ancient Elves was simply part of being Elvhen?” He let out a small sigh, almost like he was reminiscing in a memory before proceeding. “The subtle beauty of the magic was the effect, not the cause of their nature.” 

“Is it true that some spells took years to cast?” The mage beamed at her question. He had never seen someone so curious and eager to learn as her. It was rather refreshing. They continued to chat throughout the afternoon and well into the evening before parting ways, ending on the topic of the Fade. He politely escorted her back to her quarters and bade her good night before returning to his own lodgings. As he laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but think about his conversations with the Dalish woman. She was still a mystery to him but as he closed his eyes, he decided to seek out a spirit in the Fade to find some answers. 

Chapter Text

Solas was disappointed. Once again, his attempt to communicate with the spirits in the Fade proved useless. Even with the Breach stable, he still could not find his friends. It was more than likely they would not return until the blasted vortex was sealed better. He soon opened his eyes to the sound of knocking on the door to the small abode he was currently residing in and with a sleepy yawn rolled out of bed. He quickly dressed and opened the door to find Amanatha, in her armor, the lower half of her face hidden beneath her scarf. At first, the sight of her alarmed the mage, thinking he was facing an assassin, but that thought had quickly evaporated. She had what looked to be silverite dagger hilts strapped to her hips. He made an educated guess that Cassandra had returned her original weapons to her.  

“I hope you rested well.” She spoke calmly. “We’re heading to the Hinterlands today to look for Mother Giselle. I’ll be waiting at the stables.” 

With her message delivered, Amanatha departed from his residence and made her way down towards the gates where Varric and Cassandra were already exiting. He blinked when he realized that she retrieved him last realizing he needed more sleep than expected. Shaking his head, Solas collected his staff and made his way towards the meeting point where he saw Cassandra hauling Varric behind her and onto a bay-colored stallion. Amanatha was adjusting the saddle on Thestral when she turned towards the mage. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” He said calmly.  

Amanatha pulled herself into the saddle then glanced down, offering her hand towards him. “You can ride with me.” 

“I do not wish to impose.”  

"Solas..." Amanatha sighed, and the apostate stared up at her. “Just get on the dracolisk.”  

Realizing that he was not going to win the argument, gripped the woman’s wrist and allowed her to pull him up behind her. She clicked her tongue and Thestral snorted trotting down a trail leading out of Haven with Cassandra and Varric in tow. As they rode through the forests, they could hear the sounds of battle. Swords clashing against wood, the sounds of crackling fire, ice and lightning echoed through the wind worse than any thunderstorm. Amanatha and Solas could almost taste the magic with each breath. They had just made it to a fork in the road where they saw several rogue Templars attacking rebel mages but before they could interfere, three arrows shot out from the foliage, each one hitting their mark, and the adversaries fell to the ground dead. Amanatha turned her head towards the source of the arrows and found a young dwarven woman smirking as she lowered her bow. 

“The Herald of Andraste. I’ve heard stories about you and about what you did at the Breach.” The dwarven woman said with a bow. “It is odd though seeing a Dalish Elf care about what happens anyone else, but I’m not complaining. Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service.” 

“Just Amanatha please and it's nice to meet you, Scout Harding. Your skills with a bow are quite impressive.” 

The dwarf blushed slightly before smiling. “Thank you, Hera- I mean, Amanatha... That’s a long name. Do you have a nickname by any chance?” 

“Ana or Natha will do.” Amanatha laughed. “What do you have to report?” 

“Right. Well, the Hinterlands is in dire need of fixing. We came here to secure more horses from Redcliffe’s old horse master, Dennet. I grew up here and his horses are the best of the Frostbacks. But with the Mage-Templar fighting getting worse, I’m not even sure if he’s still alive.” Harding explained then pointed to a small hamlet further down the road. “Mother Giselle is at the crossroads helping refugees and the wounded. Unfortunately, from the reports, the war is spreading there too. Corporal Vale and our men are also down there doing what they can to help.” 

Amanatha nodded, turning her head towards her companions. “I suggest we get to the crossroads first and clear out the mages and Templars causing trouble. Once they are rooted out, we’ll have what soldiers we can provide assist with refugees and wounded.” 

Cassandra smiled. “A grand idea.” 

Amanatha spurred her mount in to a gallop and raced through the forests down the steep path. As the hamlet came into view, she quickly dismounted with Solas behind her and the two slid down the slope. The Dalish Elf unhooked her dagger hilts and twisted the ends together as they sparked to life with magic and formed a bow. She fired an arrow at a Templar about to slay a villager trying to escape the carnage and watched as the warrior seized up, the lightning arrow releasing its electric discharge throughout the body. Solas waved a hand, a glowing barrier surrounding both of them just as two mages began firing ice and fire at them. The two watched as the spells bounced harmlessly off their bodies. 

“Thanks.” Amanatha said gratefully before sniping a Templar archer taking aim behind the apostate. 

Solas turned briefly. “Likewise.” 

Cassandra and Varric seemed to be handling themselves pretty well with the dwarf firing his crossbow at any mages trying to sneak up on the Seeker and said Seeker would immediately take them out. It took some time but soon enough, the hamlet was free of Templars and mages. Amanatha barked an all-clear and one by one, villagers emerged from their homes to help collect the wounded and the dead. Cassandra and Varric wandered towards the borders of the village to keep a look-out for any ambushes while Solas assisted in tending to the wounded. While her companions were occupied, Amanatha carefully walked around the town looking for the Chantry cleric. Thankfully, she was easy to spot. As the elf calmly walked up a flight of stairs, she saw the woman clad in red, white and gold robes easing the fears of a frightened and wounded soldier. 

“Mother Giselle?” Amanatha called out softly so as not to startle the already stressed-out warriors and villagers. 

The robed woman stood and slowly turned to face her addressee then spoke with a heavy Orelisian accent. “I am.” Mother Giselle was an older woman with dark yet beautiful coffee colored skin and wise hazel eyes. “And you must be the one they are calling ‘Herald of Andraste’.” 

“Please, call me Amanatha. ‘Herald’ seems too formal for me.”  

Mother Giselle smiled serenely. “I know of the Chantry’s denouncement, and I am familiar with those behind it. I will not lie to you. Some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are just terrified.” 

“Understandable. So many lives have been senselessly taken from them and my heart aches with them.” The elf spoke softly then added with sincerity. “That’s why I am here to help them.” 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

For the next several hours, Amanatha and her companions scoured across the Hinterlands aiding the townsfolk. They first dealt with rooting out the rebel mage stronghold and found some interesting artifacts for Solas to study, though Amanatha was a little unsettled by them. Afterwards, they eliminated the rogue Templar camp. They closed several rifts as well though the terror demons ate up much of their time with their ambush attacks. They came across an estranged cult of Andraste who, after being aided, offered to help the refugees. Amanatha even managed to convince a young elven lad to return home to his family who missed him deeply. They were setting up camp by a small lake near the famous horse master home shortly after speaking with the man and convincing him to send both himself and a herd of his finest horses to Haven for the Inquisition. It had been quite the productive day indeed. The Dalish woman soon spotted a few wolves ahead acting strangely and tilted her head to the side in confusion. She studied their movements and couldn’t help but notice they were acting frantically. They shouldn’t be acting like this. The rifts here are closed. 

She glanced behind her and saw Solas and Cassandra busy with pitching the tents and Varric was occupying himself by trying, and failing, to catch some dinner for the group. Deciding to slip away for a bit, Amanatha gathered her weapons and chased after the wolves, following them discreetly to their den unaware that someone was watching her. What she found made her wish she brought someone with her. She discovered a large terror demon being surrounded by the wolves, but when it presented what looked to be a writhing wolf pup, she understood the situation. The demon was using the pack’s offspring as a way to control them. That explained why they were attacking the farmers. Amanatha was about to proceed forward when a hand clamped over her mouth, and she was pulled behind a rock.  

She instinctively tried to fight off her assailant reaching behind her to try and throw them off, but their grip held tighter, and her hands were subdued, then a voice hissed a whisper in her ear. “ Ra’s em !”  

She turned her head as best she could to find Solas holding her back. He quickly released her and the two peeked their heads around the rock. “This explains why the wolves are acting so strange.” She whispered to the mage who grunted in agreement. “That terror demon is threatening the life of their pups...” 

“I assume you have a plan?” 

Amanatha nodded. “We need to get the pack away from that demon then one of us needs to kill it without harming the little ones.” 

Solas was already ahead of her as he whistled loudly. The wolves and terror demon jerked their head in the direction of the mage. The green demon snarled as it set the pup in its hand down and seemed to bark an order at the pack. Amanatha tucked herself as best she could, watching as the wolves chased after the mage. She furrowed her brows, shaking her head but he had done the trick, for the demon was now cut off from its reinforcements. She drew her bow as quietly as possible and took aim at the terror demon. She had to be careful. She couldn’t risk harming the litter whimpering in fear of the monster. Her blood ran cold when she saw the terror demon swipe up what looked to be the oldest of the litter and brought the squirming pup to its wretched mouth, intent on devouring it and she raced towards the demon. 

The demon had little time to react as an arrow struck its back causing it to arch backwards and drop the tiny bundle. It whipped around, spiny tail barely grazing the wolf litter. It made a disgusting chittering sound as it circled Amanatha angrily, but she stood her ground, baring her own teeth in response. The monster seemed to smirk before disappearing beneath a pool of Fade ether and the Dalish woman cursed as she looked around anxiously. Movement beneath her feet caught her attention. She leapt into the air, another arrow loaded and just as the terror demon sprang forth from its ether pond, it tried to swipe at the woman’s stomach. However, it was not expecting the woman to have the upper hand for in that moment, her arrow shot through the demon’s head, lightning exploding from the arrowhead and caused the demon’s head and the entire body to disintegrate. Amanatha landed on her feet panting heavily from the exertion then rushed to check on the puppies. None were injured, thankfully. She gathered them up in her cloak and rushed out of the cursed den. 

Upon exiting the wolf den, Amanatha came across a baffling sight. Solas was surrounded by the wolves, yet they were not attacking him. Instead, he seemed to be speaking with them and in turn, they were wagging their tails almost happily. She almost sputtered out in laughter when the canines practically pounced the man like someone who had come home to a pack of mabari. Well, it was certainly interesting. That is, until he saw the Dalish walking towards them with the bundle of squirming wolf cubs. He didn’t even stop the wolves from rushing over as they inspected the bundle and after a few quick sniffs and barks, the pack collected their young and sprinted off towards the mountains. Perhaps they would find a new home to raise their young.  

“How did you figure out it was a demon?” Solas inquired curiously, brushing off the tuffs of fur from the wolves from his clothes. 

Amanatha flicked her eyes briefly at the mage, doing her best not to chuckle at the sight of him brushing off fur from his bald head. “I guess you could say that I have a natural affinity for wolves. Whenever I got lost exploring the Emerald Graves, wolves were always the ones that led me home..." She explained then glanced back in the direction the pack ran off in. "I just noticed that they seemed hesitant about something and I decided to follow.” 

“Without having someone watching your flank?” 

She shrugged. “Poor decision on my part... I’m sorry.” 

Solas was about to speak when he was interrupted by a scolding Cassandra. Apparently, the Seeker had learned about Amanatha and the apostate’s little escapade and was none too pleased with it. However, the Seeker’s scolding fell on deaf knife-ears as the two merely droned her out... That was until she grabbed both of them by their ears and dragged them to their tents like misbehaving children. Varric merely chuckled at the sight before going back to fishing. 

Chapter Text

With their business in the Hinterlands concluded, Amanatha and her companions made their way back to Haven. However, shouting could be heard from within the small village. Not even waiting for Solas to dismount, the Dalish woman spurred her dracolisk into town. The massive creature barreled along up the hill where the two spotted a large gathering of people, mages who were not with the rebels from the Hinterlands on one side and loyal Templars on the other. They were shouting at each other, blaming the other for the Divine’s death. Just as one of the Templars drew their sword, Thestral screeched as he brought his passengers between the factions. When the Templar tried to move around the creature, Amanatha pulled back on the dracolisk’s reins causing the beast to rear in a threatening display, though Solas was nearly thrown off, before landing with a loud thump.  

“ENOUGH!” Commanded the elf woman, earning silence among the masses. 

“Herald!”  

“You are no longer Templars nor Circle mages.” Amanatha growled, Thestral snarling while stamping his feet. “We are all part of the Inquisition.”  

Cullen had arrived just in time to help push back the waves of people when another voice rang causing both the elves and the former Knight-Captain of the Templars to internally groan. “And what does that mean exactly?” 

“Chancellor...” Cullen bit back a hiss. “Back already? Haven’t you done enough?” 

The Chancellor slowly made his way towards the elves and Commander, his hands moving away from behind his back to gesture at Amanatha. “I am curious, Commander, as to how your ‘Inquisition’ and its so-called ‘Herald’ will restore order as you promised.” 

Amanatha narrowed her eyes as Cullen dispersed the crowds. Solas quickly jumped down from Thestral’s back and helped the woman down before taking the animal back to the stalls. The elven woman stood beside Cullen, folding her arms over her chest. The mages and Templars were already at war and now things were becoming a tangled mess. The Chancellor stated that they required proper authority to guide them back to order. “Are you referring to yourself, Chancellor?” Amanatha retorted. “Because so far, I’ve seen you only sow doubt and fear that is unnecessary. Especially with what is going on right now.” 

“This rebel Inquisition and you, the so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’?” Rodrick scoffed, shaking his head. “I think not.” 

“Might I point out, that the more we bicker and argue, the longer this rebellion continues to fester like an infection. The Inquisition did after all aid the Hinterlands when the Chantry refused to offer aid, save for Mother Giselle.” Amanatha stated with a smirk as the Chancellor looked affronted. “That’s what I thought. Peace is not achieved overnight. Now if you will excuse me, it has been a long day already and my companions are in dire need of rest.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was late afternoon, and Solas had just finished mending some of his robes, or at least he was trying to considering he hardly spent any time learning the trait when he heard a disgusted snarl outside and opened the door slightly. He could not see anyone but from the elvhen curses being uttered, he had a hunch. He threw on a fresh tunic and decided to investigate. He spotted Varric shaking his head as he sat by his fire writing something when he saw the mage looking around. He pointed out towards the training yard. 

“If you’re going to check on the Spitfire, be warned, she might nail you with an arrow.” He chuckled. 

Solas nodded curtly. “I will bear that in mind.” 

The snow crunched beneath his feet, but the cold hardly bothered him. After all, magic kept them from getting frostbite. He glanced at the small crowd of soldiers sparring with each other but did not find Amanatha among them. He turned his head when he caught sight of something on the opposite side of the frozen lake. At first, he dismissed it as a trick of the light but the wisp now dancing before him convinced him otherwise. He quickly glanced around, making sure no one else saw the wisp, then held out his hand as the little ball of blue light bounced energetically in his palm. He heard a faint whisper emanating from the orb then proceeded to follow it towards what he undoubtedly knew would be the Dalish. 

He was greeted by a rather beautiful sight. He found Amanatha deep in a training regiment, her body moving with such grace and dexterity, one would mistake her dancing. No. That was not entirely true. In truth, with each thrust and slice of her daggers, it was indeed like she was dancing. What fascinated him was the sight of more wisps, including his little guide, whirling around her as she moved, almost like the wisps were an invisible sparring partner. However, the dance was short-lived for when she spotted the apostate out of the corner of her eye, Amanatha gasped and threw her dagger, now crackling to life with electricity, then cringed when the Elvhen man had to duck to avoid an early death. “Fenedhis! Solas, where’d you come from?!” Amanatha exclaimed in alarm as the man spun around to stare at the dagger. “I almost killed you! Never sneak up on me again!” 

Solas was glad that he had his back to her. The dagger was at the level of his eyes and if he hadn’t ducked when he did, he would have died. He swallowed thickly before composing himself and removed the dagger from the tree. “I do not plan to...” He then handed her the dagger back. “Might I inquire what has you so tense?” 

“Oh, just me and my advisors having a disagreement.” 

“About?” 

“Josephine said that it wouldn’t be a terrible idea for me to go to Val Royeaux to address the clerics.” Amanatha explained as she took the dagger and connected it to the other dagger to create her signature bow. “Cullen blatantly disagreed as did Leliana who stated that it would be dangerous considering my...” 

“Your?” Solas prompted. 

“My race as an elf and the fact that everyone is calling me the damn ‘Herald of Andraste’.” She drew her bowstring taut then unleashed a lightning arrow watching it strike the tree on Solas’ right. “It’s rather... frustrating to say the least.” 

“Perhaps I can distract your mind for a moment or two.”  

She lowered her bow slightly. “I’m listening.” 

“I noticed while we were traveling throughout the Hinterlands, you showed some knowledge about the Fade. More so than most Dalish even. I am curious as to where you learned it from.” 

Amanatha chuckled softly. “Well believe it or not, I learned what I know from my father. He’s actually pretty knowledgeable about the history of Ancient Elvhen culture though he admits that there are some things he’s not sure of.” 

“Care to share anything in particular?” Solas asked and he observed the woman close her eyes in thought. While he knew more than she, he was curious to see what her father had taught her. 

Amanatha soon settled on a thought and glanced at Solas. “I remember my father mentioning that at one point before the Veil was erected throughout the world, the Fade was not a place one went but rather it was part of nature itself.” 

Well, this man is certainly correct in that part of history. Thought the mage, slightly impressed. 

“I’d like to learn more about you, Solas.” 

The sudden request had mage bristled slightly and Amanatha for some reason compared the expression to that of a wolf pinning back their ears warily. “Why?” He asked suspiciously. 

“Well, you risked your freedom to help the Inquisition despite being an apostate.” 

“As did you.” 

“What I am trying to say is that I appreciate the work you are doing Solas.” Amanatha clarified. “I just wanted to know more about you, but I understand if you are uncomfortable with sharing.” 

“What would you know of me?” 

“Well, you spoke of the Fade earlier. What made you want to study it exactly?” 

Solas blinked at her question before resting his chin on his hand. After a moment or two, he decided to start at the beginning. “I grew up in a village to the north. It was a rather small village near a lake as clear as crystal and beautiful willow trees providing shade during the summers however there was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted in magic.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with growing up in a small village.” Amanatha pointed out. “Those who grow up in small communities tend to have the best characters in my opinion.” 

Solas couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose that is true, but as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. Even beyond that of my home. I treasured my dreams.” His smile then faded, and he shook his head. “Being awake and out of the Fade, became troublesome and over time, I found less areas to explore.” 

“Isn’t that because the Fade reflects the world around it?” The young inquired with a tilt of her head, “Or is it because the Fade has limitations?” 

Again, Solas found himself momentarily stunned. She seemed to know more than what she was letting on. Keeping his composure, the apostate replied with a nod. “A little bit of both actually. Also to find interesting areas, one must also be interesting.” 

“Well, you have that covered now, don’t you?” She flashed him a teasing grin, catching a faint blush on the mage’s cheeks before drawing her bow again and continuing her practicing. “Is that why you joined the Inquisition? Because if our enemies destroy the world, you would have nowhere to lay your head while dreaming in the Fade?” 

“Am I that easy to read?” He wondered aloud then shook his head at the thought. “In truth, I have enjoyed experiencing more of life to find more of the Fade.” 

“Oh?” She nailed her target once more. 

Solas leaned against the tree behind him. “You train to flick a dagger or an arrow to its target. The grace with which you move is a pleasing side benefit. Almost as if you are dancing like a feather on the wind.”  

Amanatha chuckled softly. “So, you are suggesting that I am graceful?” 

“No, I am declaring it. It was not a subject for debate.” He grinned slightly at her. “But that is not all. You train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus has also been an enjoyable side benefit. You have chosen paths you do not dislike because it leads to a destination you enjoy. As have I.” 

The Dalish woman lowered her bow and turned slightly so she was fully facing the apostate. “Indomitable focus?” 

“Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated.” He commented then thought to himself. I imagine that the sight would be... fascinating. 

He noticed the curious quirk of her brow and the twitch of her lips as they curled into an amused smirk then he felt his face turn red when he realized he had said that last comment out loud. She unhooked her daggers, the vision of the bow disappearing, and she hooked the hilts to the belt on her hip. “You have an interesting way of looking at the word, ma falon.” 

“I try...” Solas slightly coughed as he regained what little composure he could muster. 

She walked up to him, her eyes shining brightly. “I look forward to helping you make new friends.” 

“That should be... Well...” He stared back at her then grunted when she lightly pushed him back into the tree in a playful gesture. 

“Come on.” She said moving past him, “Let us return to Haven before Mother Hen gets too worked up.” Her hand slipped away but the heat from her touch still lingered as the mage rested his hand over his chest. He shook his head before trailing after. Least he was successful in improving her once sour mood. But now he was the one in dire need of a respite. The flutter in his chest was starting up again. 

Chapter Text

Amanatha did not like Val Royeaux. The buildings were too flashy and gawdy in her opinion. She had donned her usual rogue armor and had her palm tentatively gripping the hilt of her daggers as she and her companions strolled across the stone bridge, the sound of church bells ringing in the distance. According to Cassandr, the Chantry was still mourning the Divine’s death. They spotted a couple walking by, dressed in elegant clothes seemingly talking excitedly when they spotted the Dalish woman with her companions then like skittish kittens, ran off. Varric grimaced, the dwarf looking up at the Seeker. It would seem that the residents of Orelais knew exactly who they were. They were nearing the gates when an Inquisition scout rushed over to them out of breath. She informed them that not only did the Chantry Clerics await them but so did an alarming number of Templars. Solas ventured a guess that the clerics were under the impression that the Templars would protect them from the Inquisition. The scout then added that they were waiting on the opposite side of the market. With her message delivered, the scout then disappeared to report back to Leliana. Amanatha was still rather unnerved about entering the city but kept her head held high as they strolled on in.

“Well, things are about to get interesting.” Amanatha grumbled as they pressed forward.  

The marketplace was massive! So many stalls and shops spanning most of the square. To her left, Amanatha shuddered at the sight of the gallows that stood like a grim guardian, reminding everyone to behave. They were passing around a large fountain when they found a large swarm of people gathering about a stage where four Chantry clerics stood. The leader, or whom Amanatha guessed was the leader, was preaching about the late Divine. When she brought up the topic of Justinia’s murderer, the cleric pointed accusingly towards the Dalish elf. “Behold! The so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell!” The cleric ranted, “We say this is a false prophet. The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need!”  

“Oh, and you believe you claim to know everything the Maker commands?” The elf countered in exasperation then pointed towards the Breach in the distance. “Look at the sky! I survived the Breach, and I alone can end it!”  

“She speaks the truth.” Cassandra added her voice. “The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”  

“It is already too late.” The cleric sneered as Amanatha turned her head towards the sound of marching footsteps and spotted what looked to be six Templars approaching. One decorated in more ornate armor. “The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this ‘Inquisition’ and the people will be saved once more!”  

The leader of the Templar group merely strolled passed the woman when Amanatha noticed one of his subordinates raise his fist and her eyes widened in alarm. She leapt onto the stage and blocked an incoming punch meant for the cleric. The crowds gasped in alarm at the sight.   

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to hit a woman?” Amanatha growled before slamming her head into the templar’s head causing him to reel backwards from the impact in surprise. When he reached for his blade, his commanding officer grabbed his wrist.  

“Still yourself.” The lead Templar ordered before staring at the elf woman as she pulled the cleric behind her. “They are beneath us.”  

“Was that supposed to impress me?” Amanatha stared up at the man, her eyes glaring daggers.  

The Templar sneered once more at her before storming off the stage, ordering his men to follow though it looked as though some were just as baffled at the actions. Once certain that the cleric was safe, Amanatha jumped from the stage to try and stop the Templars. Cassandra though appeared to recognize the man as the Lord Seeker Lucius and was trying to get a word in edgewise with the man to no avail. He looked down upon the young Seeker, calling her a disgrace for raising an elf as a prophet of Andraste. Cassandra couldn’t help but stare in shock at the Lord Seeker’s words.  

“The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages!” The man crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the elf. “You are the ones who have failed. You who would leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear.”  

Amanatha folded her arms over her chest, mirroring Lucius’ movements. “That’s rich coming from a group who swore to protect the innocent, be they mage or not. Last I checked, it was the Inquisition who aided the Hinterlands when the Templars was out killing everything. Not your people.”  

Lucius glowered down at the woman who matched his gaze with her own. “If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here that demands respect is mine.”  

“Oh, I think not. You are not worthy of respect.” Amanatha scoffed. “Respect is earned, not a given rite.”  

The Templar took a few steps forward and leaned down to the elf’s level, a threatening glare on his face all while ignoring the sound of weapons being drawn. “Respect? For a lowly knife-eared whore like you? I’d sooner accept a toad as my savior.” Amanatha’s eyes narrowed further as Lucius continued. “You have nothing. No influence. No power and most certainly no holy power.”  

“Neither do you, telam’dhruelan .”  

“But Lord Seeker,” One of Lucius’ men spoke up, “What if she really was sent by the Maker? What if-” The young man was soon reprimanded by another officer and Amanatha swore she felt something was off about him. Lucius returned his attention back to the woman and smirked darkly at her.  

“ I will make the Templar Order a power that stands alone against the Void. We deserve recognition. You, Dalish, have shown me nothing and the Inquisition, less than nothing!” On the final note, the Lord Seeker ordered his men to continue their march. Once they were out of sight, Varric scoffed. “He seems like a charming fellow.”  

Amanatha turned her head slightly towards Cassandra. The Seeker simply looked astounded. When she questioned her about her knowledge of the infuriating man, Cassandra informed her that Lucius had only been the Lord Seeker for two years after his predecessor died. She also stated that the man was decent and never was ambitious or grandstanding either. Still, Amanatha didn’t seem convinced. She smelt a demon on the man. She offered the woman a small smile. “We’ll see if there are any Templars who wish to join us. There must be some who do not agree with him.”  

“Thank you, Amanatha.”  

“Well, while we are here, might as well do some exploring.” The elvhen woman shrugged. “Might find something useful.”  

Varric rubbed his hands. “Don’t mind if I do.”  

Cassandra rolled her eyes but opted to get her sword and shield repaired. That left Solas and Amanatha alone. The Dalish turned her head towards him. “You don’t have to linger over me, falon . You might find someone who can transcribe those weird relics we found in the Hinterlands.”   

“Perhaps, but that would be a waste of coin.” Solas stated as he walked alongside the woman.  

Amanatha chuckled, shaking her head. “Then perhaps we can find a tailor who can mend some of your clothes.”  

“What is wrong with my attire?” Solas huffed.  

“You are not very good at darning holes or mending stitches.” She held up his sleeve to reveal the butchered attempt at mending. He grumbled but did nothing to deny the truth. “Or I could show you how to properly mend clothing when we return to Haven.”  

“That seems adequate.”  

The two continued wandering along the stalls where they found a merchant selling a variety of rare cloths and leathers. Amanatha managed to purchase a few yards of silken nether cloth, a small stack of imbued tusket hide and even a couple yards of veil quartz. Solas had to admit, the woman had an eye for quality and was rather curious as to how she stockpiled a hefty sum of coins for her purchase was not cheap. She carefully placed her purchases into her satchel over her shoulder then twitched her nose. He did the same when the sweet sugary scent of cakes and cookies wafted in the air. He recognized them as Orelais’ famous frilly cakes. One of the few things he enjoyed from the city. Unbeknownst to him, Amanatha noticed the flicker of interest at the decadent pastries and decided to order a box for them to snack on while they waited for their companions.  

They opted to sit at a bench under a red maple tree where Amanatha handed the mage what looked to be a strawberry shortcake cupcake and giggled quietly at the bright eyes Solas had as he accepted the treat. She then took out her chocolate cupcake that had a design that reminded her of the Emerald Graves. The elves just sat in relative silence, the ambience of the bustling market and the pleasant weather soothing their minds. Once they finished their snack, Cassandra had returned with her sword shining from being sharpened and shield polished to a lustrous shine. Varric had also returned but with a new supply of ink and parchment. Just as the dwarf and human arrived, they were greeted by another elf dressed in robes often seen within the Circles of Magi. She introduced herself as Grand Enchanter Fiona and leader of the mage rebellion. Amanatha merely bowed her head in greeting before adding that the Grand Enchanter was supposed to be at the Conclave yet she was nowhere to be seen. Then again, neither were the leaders of the Templars. Thankfully, Fiona was more than willing to help the Inquisition and offered her an invitation to where she and the rest of the rebel mages were residing, in Redcliffe on the borders of the Hinterlands.  

“Well, that was certainly lucky of us.” Varric chuckled.  

Cassandra suggested that they returned to Haven before embarking to Redcliffe when Amanatha suddenly spun around and caught an arrow midflight. “Maker’s breath! An arrow!”  

“With a message attached to it as well.” The Dalish said, removing the parchment and slipped the arrow into her bag. She then shook her head. “Correction, a message with a rather interesting script to the writing.”  

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Spitfire.” Varric laughed. “What’s it say?”  

“Alright.” Amanatha nodded as she read the note aloud. “The letter reads, ‘People say you’re special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone. There’s a baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things throughout the market, the docks and around the cafe. Maybe you’ll meet him first. Bring swords.’ And it’s signed Friends of Red Jenny?”   

“What do they mean by ‘search for the red things’?” Cassandra questioned curiously as she took the parchment.  

Amanatha shrugged. “I have no idea, but it looks like we’re going on a scavenger hunt.”  

~~~~~~~~~~  

By Andraste’s flaming hands, they spent nearly three hours looking for the supposed red things. Cassandra found a red scarf with a piece of parchment similar to the letter in the upper markets where she also spotted something rather... erotic occurring in the dark room. Varric had to chase a damn cat that stole his find on the docks and Solas had to balance Amanatha on his shoulders so they could retrieve their clue that was tucked away on a pillar high above them. Once they had all the clues, they found that the clues formed a map leading to an alleyway. Deciding to follow up on their lead, Amanatha and her companions followed their make-shift map throughout the marketplace until they found their destination. The Dalish was rounding a corner when she saw a flash of orange and red light hurtling straight towards her.  

“Heads up!” She cried as she ducked, the heat from the flames grazing the top of her head.  

She ducked again when a man in a frilly white vest and a golden mask threw another fireball at her. “Herald of Andraste!” The strange Orelesian sneered. “How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably!”  

The Dalish woman turned towards her companions, offering a look of confusion only to have Varric nonchalantly shrug his shoulders in equal bafflement. None of them knew who this man was. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”  

“You don’t fool me.” Huffed the man as he planted his hands on his hips. “I am too important for this to be an accident! My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere.”  

“3... 2... 1...” Amanatha counted down when she spotted a shadow moving on her left.  

“Just say ‘What’!” A new voice chimed in.  

Just as the man spoke the word, an arrow appeared between his brow and an elf woman in red looking long-sleeved shirt and gold plaid leggings emerged from the shadows. She had short blonde hair, sharp sea-glass green eyes and was a little shorter than Amanatha. The blonde elf scrunched up her nose as the dead Orelesian’s corpse hit the ground. “Squishy one, but you heard me , right? Just say ‘what’. Rich tits always try for more than they deserve.” Said the woman as she knelt down to retrieve her arrow. “Blah, blah, blah. Obey me. Arrow to my face. So, you followed the notes well enough. Glad to see you’re...”  

The woman finally stopped to get a better look at Amanatha and she frowned. “Aaand you’re an elf. Well, I hope you aren’t ‘too elfy.’.” Amanatha’s eyes glanced at Solas who seemed to be wearing a neutral expression before returning attention to the blonde woman. “I mean it’s all good, innit? The important thing is: you glow. You’re the Herald thingy?”  

“Herald thingy? Glow?” Amanatha tilted her head.  

Solas cleared his throat. “I believe she is referring to the mark.”  

Ultimately, Amanatha decided not to dwell on titles. She approached the blonde elf and spoke calmly. “So, who are you and why did you send us on such a bizarre scavenger hunt?”  

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

“People?” Varric chimed in as he scratched his scalp. “You mean more elves?”  

The woman laughed, holding her stomach while shaking her head. “N-no! People people! Anyway, name’s Sera.”  

Unfortunately, that was as far as Sera could get as they were suddenly attacked by what Amanatha could only deduce was the strange Orelesian man’s lackies. Wait... why aren’t they wearing any breeches? Surprisingly, the battle didn’t last very long considering their opponents weren’t actually armored but it was certainly a new experience. Solas didn’t seem amused nor did the Seeker, but Amanatha did get a chuckle out of it. Varric was busy cleaning his crossbow from the carnage. Sera was giggling like a mad woman as she leaned against a banister and gave the Dalish woman an approving look. “So, Herald of Andraste, you’re a strange one but I like you. I’d like to join.”  

“Haha, I like your spunk.” Said the Dalish woman with a laugh. “We need all the help we can get.”  

“I know we are desperate for allies,” Solas quipped rather curtly, “but are you certain that we are that desperate?”  

Amanatha turned to gaze into the apostate’s eyes. “Does the term ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ ring any bells, falon ?”  

“It does, but-”  

“Solas, in darkest of times, when someone offers aid, you would be foolish not to accept it.”  

Solas gently pulled her aside. “And when one is not cautious, they might be accepting a dagger to the back. I am merely looking out for you.”  

“And I appreciate it, more than you realize however,” She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know we can trust her to help us despite her... unique characteristics. If you don’t trust her, at least trust me when I say we need her.”  

The apostate remained silent for a while before he exhaled sharply, and he nodded his head. He had a feeling he would regret it regardless but, in all honesty, the Dalish was right. They did need all the help they could get. Amanatha smiled softly before turning back to Sera and held out her hand, welcoming her to the Inquisition.  

"Cheer up, Chuckles." Varric poked at the apostate. "At least we know our enemies won't know how to handle her either."

Chapter Text

The carriage rattled slightly and the elvhen woman sighed as she rested her chin on her hand looking out the window. Solas was sitting across from her, a small book in his hands as he turned a page then glanced at her. “You seem irritated.” He pointed out, eyes not leaving the book. Amanatha sighed again.  

“This is ridiculous!” The woman whined, “We should be finding ways to seal the Breach properly! Not going to a stupid ball.”  

Solas felt the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. It certainly brought back some memories when he was learning more about magic. He recalled the conversation Amanatha had with her ambassador.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Do I really have to wear this, Josephine?” Amanatha grumbled out her question as her ambassador added the final touches to her current attire which was a dress of sorts. It had mixtures of blues and purples while being accented with gold. The colors really suited her in all honesty though the elf felt naked in a sense as she couldn't hide any weapons.

Josephine pinned the Dalish woman’s hair back with a gold circlet. “You have been invited to Madame De Fer’s salon! It is a great honor, and you should look the part. After all, you do lead the Inquisition.”  

Amanatha stared at herself in the mirror in irritation attempting to remove the circlet only to have Josephine lightly slap her hand. “I look stupid...”  

The Dalish woman had received an invitation to a party being held by the Empress of Orelais’ personal enchanter just a few days before she was to meet with the mages in Redcliffe. Amanatha had suggested that the party shouldn’t be the Inquisition's top priority however, her companions, save for Varric and Solas, stated that this meeting could prove useful for the growing faction.  

“Nonsense! You look ravishing!” The Antivan beamed at her as she circled Amanatha. “Now, you remember what I taught you about these types of gatherings?”  

“Vaguely... I still don't care for this 'Grand Game' they play," Amanatha growled then sighed, "but I’ll manage.”  

Josephine beamed at her excitedly. “You should be at ease, Natha! Solas will be accompanying you as your personal servant.”  

“I’m sorry... as my what?!”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

“Take comfort knowing that I am here to assist if needed.”  

“Remind me again... why did you choose to be a servant?” Amanatha inquired, slightly miffed. “I am not nobility, nor do I enjoy the idea.”  

Solas finally looked up at her from his book before tucking it away in his pocket. “What better way to further earn this Enchanter’s trust then to play the Grand Game?” He noticed the Herald remained unconvinced. “Being your personal servant allows me to pick on the gossip easier from the guests and such. For many, none pay attention to a lowly servant.” He adjusts the sash around his waist just as the carriage came to a halt before a resplendent home where many nobles and ladies made their way inside. Not missing a beat, the apostate exited the carriage first and held out his hand for Amanatha who reluctantly accepted.  

“I still feel ridiculous...” Amanatha grumbled as she dusted the gown she wore and allowed Solas to guide into the chateau.  

"You look stunning."

"I'm still irritated about the whole servant thing."

Solas chuckled as he walked beside her. "Tell you what, I will make it up to you once we have properly sealed the Breach."

The inside of the building, like the city of Orelais, was flamboyant with marble pillars and floors accented with gold and silver. There were many lords and ladies attending the party and while she was dressed to look the part, Amanatha felt out of place. Solas ushered her inside, ignoring the servant at door announcing the Dalish woman’s presence. They were approached by a couple nobles who were, thankfully, rather pleasant to talk to. True, they were asking about the rumors they heard about her as well as how the Inquisition was progressing on closing the Breach. Just as the elvhen woman was about to answer, when another, more hauty voice joined in.  

“The ‘Inquisition’, what a load of pig shit.” Amanatha and Solas turned their heads to watch a man, probably a marquis, if his clothes were anything to go by, walk down the stairs. “Bunch of washed-up sisters and crazed Seekers. No one can take them seriously. Everyone knows its just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts.”  

“Is there a point to your prattling, Chevalier ?” Amanatha asked curiously vaguely aware that her fingers were tingling with static before relaxing and noticed the marquis’ outfit. “By the way, that is a lovely doublet though it seems rather out of place for a masquerade such as this. More suited for the Grand Tourney. If I am not mistaken, the Tourney started two days ago.”  

“Three days, mistress.” Solas corrected politely trying not to grin at the subtle twitch of the woman’s brow as she glared at him. She clearly hated having someone call her mistress.  

“How’d you-?”  

Amanatha turned her attention back to the marquis and gestured to the man’s clothes. “While I may not be well versed in Orelais’ vast culture, I do recall that color scheme you wear which is usually used for the Markham’s Grand Tourney. Secondly, you carry a blade on your back with what I assume is your family crest possibly gifted to you to use in aforementioned tourney yet here you are spouting slanderous accusations without proof I might add.”  

The marquis growled as he stepped closer to the elvhen woman. “We all know what your ‘Inquisition’ truly is, Elf .” He took a step back smirking under his mask. “If you truly are a woman of honor, you would step outside and answer the charges.”  

He reached for the blade on his back and just as Amanatha was prepared to take a defensive stance, the marquis’ body suddenly became encased in ice. The Dalish woman glanced at Solas who shook his head stating silently that he was not the one who cast the spell though the tips of his fingers had traces of fire flickering. The halls grew silent as footsteps slowly made their way down the flight of stairs revealing a woman with dark ebony skin wearing a white gown, a silver-plated mask and donning a hat that reminded Amanatha of dragon horns. “My dear Marquis, how unkind of you to use such language in my house to my guests.” Spoke the woman in a honey-tone as she glided over to the disruptor and stood between Amanatha and the marquis. “Such rudeness is intolerable.”  

“Madame de Fer!” The marquis winced, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I humbly beg your pardon.”  

“You should. Tsk. Tsk. Whatever am I to do with you, Alphonse?” Madame Vivienne lifted his chin, her tone turning serious, then she turned gracefully towards Amanatha. “My lady, you are the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?”  

Amanatha glanced at the marquis. “He insulted my honor, but I divert his punishment to you.”  

Vivienne hummed curiously and glared at the marquis. “My dear Alphonse, your aunt had informed me about your little ruse as well. Thankfully, the Herald managed to make identifying you easier than expected. Her attention to detail was incredibly useful. This is not the first time you have insulted one of my guests, but it will be the last. This is why one must always be courteous to their guests.” With a simple snap of her fingers, the ice encasing the marquis collapsed inwards, impaling the poor sod until he was nothing but a heap of flesh on the floor. Amanatha cringed inwardly at the gruesome display. Vivienne twirled around on her heels and beamed delightfully at the elvhen woman before gesturing for her to follow. When Amanatha glanced at Solas, he merely nodded encouragingly to her.  

While the Herald spoke with the First Enchanter, Solas noticed a familiar face. Once of his own followers as it were who walked by him. He tilted his head slightly to whisper in their ear. “I need a favor.”  

“ Ahn dya ra ea, Fen’Harel ?”  

“Find out more about the Herald if you can.”  

The agent nodded briskly before returning to their duties. At the same time, Amanatha returned looking more than a little tired. Taking that as a sign that it was time to leave, the apostate escorted her out and they began their journey back to Haven.  

((Amanatha's outfit at Vivienne's salon))

Chapter Text

She found herself wandering in the Fade again. Or at least, she was sure she was in the Fade again. Amanatha glanced down at her body. She was in her dragon form. But this wasn’t the Fade exactly but perhaps deep within her consciousness? She looked around and shuddered. Everything was bathed in blood-red hue. She saw remnants of what could only be described as Arlathan. Beautiful cities are now laying in ruin. She slowly walked through the torn streets cautiously, constantly looking around thinking something was going to pop up and ambush her. But her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a monstrous roar. Several actually and the sound of a wolf. Amanatha sprinted towards the sounds, leaping over and sliding under the debris until she found herself blocked by what appeared to be mutated plants. The roars sounded again, and she spotted the source ahead. She saw what looked to be several corrupt dragons, even more massive than the dragons in the waking the world. Something stirred within her. Something familiar and terrifying. “The Evanuris...” She said in fear. “But who are they fighting?”  

She pressed on as best she could, leaping back to avoid being stepped on. She felt like a child beneath the behemoths. A dark howl ripped through the sky. It was defiant but singular and radiated a power she had not felt before, yet it was familiar. She unfurled her own wings and leapt up onto a building keeping low before arching her neck to peek over the roof. Her eyes widened in surprise. A wolf as black as night with six eyes as red as a burning fire stood before the several dragons. It dodged an onslaught of attacks but let out a pain snarl when the largest of the dragons struck the wolf’s vulnerable side and clamped its jaws around the animal’s abdomen. The wolf whined before trying to sink its fangs into its opponent's snout. But the behemoth did not waste any time. There was a sickening crunch of bone before the dragon tossed the wolf in her direction. Amanatha looked down at the wounded animal at her feet, hearing it wheeze in pain as it struggled to breathe. She brought her neck down and gently nudged its massive head, trying to rouse it but soon found herself surrounded by the dragons as well.   

“Any ally of the Dreadwolf will be punished with death.” The largest sneered. “Either stand aside or die.”  

“I will not bow to tyrants!” Amanatha roared.  

Amanatha...  

Who was calling her? 

Amanatha!  

Was that?  

“Natha!” 

She jolted awake, her head smacking against the headrest of her bed and she whimpered in pain as she curled up under the sheets. “ Fenedhis !” She clutched her head and applied a faint cooling spell upon the bump now forming, wincing slightly. Was that a dream or vision? She wondered but her thoughts were interrupted by another knock on the door, and she rushed to make herself look presentable. 

“Are you alright?” It was Solas’ voice. 

The door opened, revealing a rather exhausted-looking Herald. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and she had dark circles under her blue-green eyes. It also didn’t help that she was still buttoning her armor still. “I’m alright, falon . Just... didn’t sleep well.” 

The apostate stared at her for a good long while before gesturing for her to follow him. Too tired to argue, the Dalish trailed after him, doing her best to stifle the yawn that threatened to escape. Solas opened the door to his abode and invited her inside, even going so far as to pull out a chair for her. He then walked over to a small fire where a pot was whistling, and he expertly poured the hot water into two cups. He then set the first cup in front of Amanatha then placed his across from hers. She opened her mouth to question him, but he held up a hand insisting that she just observe. He removed a packet of dried herbs and steeped it in her cup. He then placed a similar packet into his cup. Soon, the water changed to deep burgundy red and there was a scent she was unfamiliar with. 

“Rooibos.” He said finally as he picked up his cup. “But this a special blend to restore the body from fatigue and rejuvenate one’s soul.” 

Amanatha mirrored his movements and placed the rim of her cup under her nose. It smelt sweet and earthy. She took a sip and immediately felt the stress from everything wash away. She didn’t feel tired anymore either, even the bags under her eyes were gone. “It’s good.” She hummed then giggled at the sour face Solas was making. “What’s wrong? Didn’t steep it long enough?” 

“I detest tea, really.” 

Amanatha snickered. “Yet you drink it?” 

“I may dislike the stuff,” He huffed with a grimace, “but I cannot deny the benefits it has on the body. Particularly, this blend.” 

The Herald finished her cup, her mind deep in thought before she set it back in the saucer. “Perhaps, one day I can share a blend that you’ll actually enjoy.” 

Solas smiled. “You are welcome to try. I have a rather, how shall I put it, picky palate.” 

She hummed at the challenge before glancing up at the sunrise peeking out over the mountains. She still had some time before she was to meet with the mages in Redcliffe when she spotted one of the apostate’s tunics folded on the dresser. Her eyes lit up as she recalled her offer from their visit to Val Royeaux. “Since we have some time, perhaps I can show you how to properly mend your clothes.” 

Solas furrowed his brow at first then turned to glance at the ruined tunic before his gaze softened. “Ah yes. You had offered to teach me.” 

He collected the cups while Amanatha gathered a couple needles and some thread. She returned to the chair where she began showing him step-by-step how to mend the tears in the fabric. It took him a few tries as he wasn’t nearly as dexterous as she, but he managed. Soon, he was able to at least use simple yet effective stitches to repair his clothes though he was not used to the constant stabbing of the needle. He quickly discovered that he had no patience for darning his socks. Too tedious, he said but the Dalish woman stated that if he could not darn a simple sock than he couldn’t handle more complex stitches. 

“Complain all you like, Solas. But these skills will come in handy one way or another.” She stated as she finished mending the last tear in one of his tunics. 

“Aside from mending clothes?” He huffed as he completed fixing a tear in one of his pairs of pants that had gotten torn from a demon during the first attempt to seal the Breach. 

Amanatha nodded her head. “Stitching can also help mend wounds that poultices or salves cannot. Stitching flesh is no different than stitching fabric.” 

“That seems a bit extreme...” Solas blanched at the thought. “Sewing wounds shut... Magic is much more efficient.” 

“It is, until you run out of mana... then you’re in trouble.”  

“Speaking from experience?” 

She went silent and nodded her head though Solas swore she said in the faintest whisper, “Yes.” She folded the tunic neatly and set it on the table with care. The villagers of Haven soon began to bustle with activity and Amanatha stood up. She bade him farewell and departed from the residence. He watched as she had quickly departed and couldn’t help but wonder what was running through her thoughts just now. Amanatha closed the door behind her, her hand falling to her stomach where she could still feel a scar under the fabric of her shirt. Oh yes. She knew from experience what happens when one runs out of mana and must resort to sewing a wound shut. Though, the thought brought back bitter memories. Memories she was not yet ready to face. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

The ride to Redcliffe was rather eventful. More so than Amanatha would have liked as it nearly put her and her companions behind on schedule to meet with Fiona. They had come across a Grey Warden of all things, training what looked to be a group of farmers in how to defend themselves. He went by the name of Blackwall and was a tall man with midnight black hair, along with thick beard and brown eyes. His armor bore the sigil of the Grey Wardens but something about the human rubbed Amanatha the wrong way. Cassandra opted to return to Haven to keep Cullen and Leliana informed while Blackwall accompanied them. Solas was also suspicious of the Grey Warden and many questions swam in his mind. Why was he alone when Wardens travel in groups of two or three? Where were the other Wardens? And finally, why does he keep making those eyes at the Dalish woman? 

They continued to ride in silence. Since the horse master, Dennet, came to aid the Inquisition, there were now plenty of horses to ride on. However, Solas preferred to ride with Amanatha on her dracolisk. They were nearing the gate leading into Redcliffe when a rift suddenly opened before them. But something about it was strange. Very strange. As spirits and demons popped out of the rift, some were moving rather sluggishly while others were moving about so quickly it was difficult to keep up with them. Still, they managed to push the spirits and demons back into the Fade and Amanatha quickly sealed the Rift but not before she spotted a demon fang on the ground glowing rather strangely but just as she was about to pick it up, the fang suddenly turned to dust. “Did that Rift... alter time around it?” She turned towards the elvhen apostate. “Is such a thing even possible?” 

Solas shook his head. “Not that I am aware of. Something is very, very wrong here.” 

They pressed on, entering the port town of Redcliffe. The seaside town was rather crowded with mages and townsfolk going about their usual business. After stabling their mounts, Amanatha pulled the piece of parchment Fiona had given her in Val Royeaux. From the accordance, they were to meet at the tavern known as the Gull and Lantern . Amanatha had to admit, it had been some time since she saw the sea. She stood at the docks for a moment, enjoying the sea breeze in her hair and the smell of the sea salt before following her companions to the tavern. The Gull and Lantern was a rustic inn but obviously packed with mages and travelers. The Dalish woman soon spotted the Grand Enchanter Fiona talking amongst her fellow mages when she spotted the group approaching. 

“Greetings agents of the Inquisition.” She said politely, “What has brought you to Redcliffe?” 

Amanatha blinked in surprise before glancing at Varric and Solas who bore similar expressions. “Um, you invited us here when we met at Val Royeaux.” 

“I’m afraid you are mistaken; I haven’t been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.” 

Solas rested his hand under his chin. “That is rather strange, because we were approached by someone who looked exactly like you in Val Royeaux.” 

Fiona scrunched up her brow in genuine confusion. She suggested that someone could have used magic to create an illusion to look like her. Shaking her head, she gave Amanatha and her companions a regretful look. “Whoever... or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed.”  

“How so?” The Dalish asked suspiciously, already having a hunch that the news wasn’t going to be good. 

Fiona cringed and gestured to her charges. “The rebel mages have already... pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.” 

“Come again?” Amanatha gawked, her face paling. “I understand that you are afraid, but you deserve better than slavery. An alliance with Tevinter is a terrible mistake.” 

Fiona opened her mouth to offer her apologies when the door to the tavern opened and the sound of footsteps approached the group. The Dalish woman spun around to find two men, one wearing the robes belonging to the Magisterium of Tevinter and beside him, possibly his kin, in armor similar to templar armor but the sigil was that of Tevinter serpents instead of a flaming sword. Amanatha and Solas were immediately on edge. Even Varric and Blackwall were eyeing the magister warily. “Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius.” Fiona seemed to hiss through gritted teeth as the robed elder bowed his head. 

He extended his hand towards Amanatha who reluctantly reciprocated only to shudder internally when the man kissed the back of her hand suddenly.  

“An honor to meet such a lovely elvhen woman especially when she is the one I have heard so much about. Are you the one who survived the Fade? Very fascinating.” The magister hissed when the apostate grabbed his wrist tightly. The look on Solas’ face made the magister blanch with a split-second look of fear and he quickly released Amanatha’s wrist then cleared his throat ignoring the Dalish woman rubbing the back of her hand on her scarf. “What can I do for you?” 

“First off, tell me about this ‘alliance’ you have with the mages. The Grand Enchanter me she was indentured to a magister.” 

Alexius hummed slightly. “Well, our southern brethren have no legal status in the Imperium. As they were not born citizens of Tevinter, they must work a period of ten years before gaining full benefits. As their protector, I shall oversee their work along with their well-being for the Imperium.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me if I appear skeptic. Considering I spoke with Fiona in Val Royeaux... things seem too... timely.” The Dalish said calmly. “I’m willing to bet my coin that you plan on training Fiona’s charges to join your legion.” 

Alexius frowned slightly. “You are rather observant, my lady but you are also correct.” 

“What?! You said not all my people would be military!” Fiona protested by gesturing to younger mages behind her. “There are children! Others that are not suited for-” 

“And once their debts are paid, they will be proper citizens.” 

Amanatha glared at the magister when his back was turned folded her arms over her chest. “You’re a long way from home, Alexius.” 

Alexius smiled coyly. “And you are no Fereldan, my dear. So, we are both strangers here.” He motioned with a wave of his hand for the elf to follow him and she obliged though caught a forlorn expression on the Grand Enchanter’s face. The Dalish held a hand behind her back hoping Solas could make out her gesture.  

Solas narrowed his eyes as Amanatha’s fingers began forming words. I smell trouble is about to occur. Stay alert . He tapped his staff against the ground confirming that he acknowledged her message. While the Herald conversed and attempted to negotiate with the Tevinter, Solas spotted Alexius’ son, Felix, accepting a folded note from a hooded figure in a dark corner. He made that a mental note for later. As he turned his head back to Amanatha, the Dalish woman shot up to her feet when Felix stumbled over to them. The young man suddenly started to convulse as the elven woman managed to carefully lay him down, propping his head on top of her leg as the convulsions continued. 

“Felix!” Alexius exclaimed as he rushed over to his son. 

Amanatha was busy rummaging through her bag until she procured a small bottle containing goldish amber liquid. “Alexius, give me some space!” She ordered while trying to keep Felix from smacking his head on the floor. “Blackwall, restrain him please! Varric! Get me some hot water now! Solas, Fiona on me!” 

Solas knelt down on the opposite side of fallen Tevinter and Fiona held Felix’s head in her lap. The lad’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body stopped twitching, but his breathing was erratic. Varric returned with the water just as the Dalish elf removed most of Felix’s robes on his chest where she found a nasty scar that looked more like burnt wood than flesh. “This is a wound made from the being exposed to the Blight... so he’s suffering from either blighted seizures or an old infection from said Blight...” Amanatha muttered as she uncorked the bottle and poured two drops in the hot water watching it as it turned to pale gold color. When Alexius threatened to have her slain, Amanatha glared at the magister. “You kill me, and your son is as good as dead! Now shut up and let me work!” 

She had Solas use a damp cloth from the hot water to place on the wound, wincing as the wound began to glow as though it were branding the flesh. She removed another empty bottle from her satchel and drew her knife as it sparked to life. “What are you doing to my son?!” Alexius demanded as he struggled against the Warden’s grip.  

“Giving him more time.” She answered, nodding to Solas instructing him to remove the cloth from the wound and with a delicate and expert hand, began to carve the infected flesh from Felix’s body. Everyone watched with bated breath as she managed to remove an alarming amount of the blighted flesh and store it in the empty flask. She quickly added a few drops of the infused water into the bottle then corked it tight. Felix’s breathing suddenly stabilized, and the elf applied another lather of the infused healing water on to the wound. This time it did not look so angry, and the convulsions ceased. Once Felix’s breathing returned to a steady rhythm, Amanatha gently roused the young man as she finished binding the injury. The remaining hot water was poured into a mug and the elf held it out for the young Tevinter. “Drink this.” She instructed as he sat up, hand on his chest. As soon as he finished the elixir, color returned Felix’s body, and he seemed to be feeling much better. 

“What did you do?” Alexius asked as he was finally permitted to assess his son. 

Amanatha hauled herself up and dusted her shoulders. “Gave him more time. He isn’t fully cured but I managed to remove most of the problem. He should have a few more years now though unfortunately, my skills in healing these sorts of things are extremely limited but I did what I could.” 

“How are you feeling, Felix?” The magister asked, resting a hand on his son’s shoulder. 

Felix took a breath and found that it came easier than before. “I feel... lighter than I have before. I can still feel it lingering but not as harshly as I have for years.” He then looked at Amanatha and took her hands gratefully. “I don’t know what you did, but you have my thanks.” 

She felt something slip into her hand and she clenched it tightly. “I am glad that I was able to help. For now, get some rest and try not to do anything strenuous.” Amanatha glanced at Alexius. “Perhaps we can discuss things at a later date?” 

“Yes. That would be wise.” The magister said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll send a letter once my son has regained some of his strength.” 

Not wasting time, Amanatha collected the remains of her herbs and stuffed them back into her bag then followed her companions outside. Upon hearing Varric question, her about helping the Tevinter boy, she simply smiled. “Sometimes a simple act of kindness can go a long way. Also, I couldn’t just leave the poor lad to suffer like that.” 

“You have a kind heart, Herald.” Blackwall said with a small smile. “A rare thing nowadays.” 

Solas ignored the strange feeling in his chest when the Warden complimented the elvhen woman and loomed over Amanatha’s shoulder as she unfolded the note Felix had slipped to her. “ Come to the Chantry. You are in danger . It would seem as though your act of kindness did not go unrewarded. Though I must admit, I did see someone earlier hand Felix a note before he had his seizure.” 

“Either way, it is worth investigating.” Amanatha pointed out. 

Varric pointed at her bag. "Speaking of which, what was that little miracle you had in your bag?"

"It's a carefully blended potion made from Prophet's Laurel, Royal Elfroot, Amrita Vein, Arbor's Blessing and Dawn Lotus."

Solas' eyes widened in surprise. His mother once crafted the same potion when he or his father had gotten sick or had an infection. "That's an extremely powerful and potent purifying healing potion. I have only seen it crafted in memories of the Fade. It takes a keen eye and steady hand to craft such a potion."

Amanatha chuckled weakly. "I know the ingredients however I am still learning the ratios. This batch on the other hand was something my father made me before I began my travels, and I use very sparingly. Now come on. We have a lead to follow."

Upon entering the chantry building, Amanatha and her companions came across a rather surprising sight. Well, two really. The first was the sight of another rift, similar to the first one they encountered near the gates of Redcliffe and the second was what appeared to be another Tenviter mage fighting off the spirits and demons that had emerged from the torn veil. After he finished off a shade, the Tevinter turned towards the Dalish elf, and her compatriots then gestured for their aid with the remainder of the rift. Just as before with rift from outside, there were several spots where time flowed differently. Spots with a bright green hue seemed to accelerate time while spots with a sickly yellow hue appeared to slow time. Thankfully, with the aid of the strange Tevinter, the battle did not last nearly as long. As Amanatha finished sealing the rift, the strange mage approached them in fascination. He was tall, with tan colored skin and a strange almost roguish sort of goatee. His dark hair was combed back and his robes seemed to reflect a higher status that no one in the group seemed to recognize. 

“Fascinating!” He said excitedly as the woman lowered her hand. “How does that work exactly?” 

“It’s Rift magic fused with storm, if I were to venture a guess.” Amanatha shrugged. “I just focus on the mark and seal the rifts.” 

The mage snorted, shaking his head. “In other words, you don’t know. Pity.” 

“Who are you?”  

The man blinked at her question. “Ah... getting ahead of myself again it would seem.” He gave the woman a flourished bow. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?” 

Amanatha smiled slightly. “Judging by how you are carrying yourself, you are not from the Magisterium as well as the one who gave Felix the note to give to me?” 

Dorian laughed. “My, my. Perhaps I misjudged you too quickly. You are more observant than you appear but before I forget... Thank you for saving Felix. He’s one of my good friends.” 

“I was happy to help.” The elf said slinging her daggers back onto her belt. “I’m assuming the danger you were referring to in your note was in regard to the strange rifts we have be seeing. Including the one I just closed.” 

“Correct again but let’s take it from the top, starting with how Alexius claimed allegiance from the rebel mages right from under your nose.” Dorian nodded his head. “To make a long story short, he distorted time.” 

“Just enough for him to reach Redcliffe right after the death of Divine Justinia...” Amanatha growled in realization. “Which in turn, is affecting the rifts.” 

Solas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “That is more than just dangerous. It is reckless. One should not meddle with time.” 

Dorian couldn’t agree more, however that was only the tip of the iceberg. He stated that if something wasn’t done soon, there would be more rifts like the ones from earlier. The magic that Alexius was wielding was more than dangerous but extremely unstable and if used continuously, would unravel the world as they speak. Dorian then added that it was also partially his fault as he and Alexius had been working on this type of magic for years, but it was only theoretical. He never expected his old mentor to succeed. What baffled the Tevinter more was why Alexius was doing so in the first place. It seemed a waste to use it for a few extra lackeys. 

“That’s because he didn’t do it for the mages.”  

Startled by the new voice in the room, the occupants whipped around to find Felix strolling towards them, a little more spring in his step. The magister’s son revealed that his father had joined a strange new cult of Tevinter supremacists called the Venatori. He also said that his father did all this damage to get to Amanatha and while he and Dorian cared for Alexius and loved their country but what the man was doing was dangerous and crazy.  

“By why get to me?” Amanatha pointed out. “If he wanted my attention, he could have just sent a letter.” 

“The Venatori are obsessed with you in particular, Herald of Andraste.” Felix recalled before shrugging his shoulders. “Why, though? I am not sure. Perhaps it is because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” 

Regardless of this cult’s obsession with Amanatha, Dorian pointed out that when Alexius sends her some correspondence, they will know it is a trap and informed her that he would be in contact when they were ready to face the magister. He waved a farewell to the Herald and his friend Felix, disappearing into another room, just as Alexius rushed into the chantry. “Felix! There you are. You need to rest.” The old man huffed before glancing at the elf woman. 

“Apologies, Father. But I wanted to once again offer my gratitude to her for granting more time.” Felix answered simply.  

“And I am very grateful indeed, but she also said not to strain yourself.” Alexius said as he guided his son outside then bowed curtly at the group. “I will be in touch. Thank you once again for helping my son.” 

“Quite the mother hen, that one.” Blackwall noted as the door slammed. 

Amanatha nodded her head in agreement but saw that she could possibly use that to her advantage. She turned towards her companions and smiled. “Come on. Let’s return to Haven. Perhaps Cullen was more successful than we were.” 

It turned out that Cullen was more than a little successful. He had managed to gather quite the handful of Templars who saw their commander’s actions as more than suspicious and opted to join the Inquisition instead. The former Knight-Commander unfortunately could not get an audience with the Lord Seeker but Amanatha didn’t seem too disappointed. After all, the man managed to conscript thirty Templars. Now they just needed the mages.  

Chapter Text

“Ah, Solas. It has been quite some time since you have visited me, falon,” Wisdom chimed softly as the apostate approached the spirit. He smiled at his friend as they took on the form of a young woman sitting at a table with a collection of books scattered about the surface. “Where have you been? I have missed our conversations though I will admit, I have been seldom bored.”  

Solas took a seat across from her. “I apologize for not visiting regularly. I have been... busy as of late.”  

“I am not surprised. Once again, your hasty nature has gotten you into trouble. Have you not forgotten the last time you acted impulsively?” Wisdom scolded him with a slight huff, and he averted his gaze shamefully. “But... I understand your pain. Anyway, what can I do for you?”  

“I have come seeking your advice.” He said, clenching his fist. “You are aware of my plans by now, I’m sure.”  

“More so than you realize considering Regret has been skulking about. You really should have waited until you had regained your strength.”  

Solas glared at the spirit. “And spend another minute in this apocalypse? I think not. I must retrieve my Orb”  

“Alright, say you retrieve what has been lost. What then?” Wisdom inquired as she set her tome aside and folded her hands neatly on the tabletop. Solas opened his mouth to answer but then his mind went blank. The answer should have been obvious: Restore the People and rectify his mistake. However, Amanatha’s words suddenly rang out in his mind louder than any song of the Ancients. I think that the era of the Ancient Elves has ended and the Dalish should be seeking ways to become even better than what they are now.  

“For once... I am at a loss.” He said as the Dalish woman’s words echoed within his mind. “That is why I came here for guidance.”  

“Solas, I have known you since you were a child, before the Veil was erected. There is something else.” The spirit pointed out and the man grumbled internally. Wisdom was always good at seeing through him. Much like his mother. When he remained silent, the spirit gazed into his eyes before giggling and shaking her head. “Who is she?”  

“A woman from a Dalish clan yet she does not act like any Dalish I have encountered.”  

Wisdom cocked her head curiously. “A Dalish who does not act Dalish? Now that is something. Tell me more.”  

“She has hair as dark as refined ebony and eyes that remind me of the Fade. Her skin untarnished by any vallisian. Her voice carries a wisdom that is not dissimilar to yours.” Solas closed his eyes once more, allowing her image to fill his mind. “Yet her spirit burns as bright as dragon’s fire.”  

“What is her name?” Wisdom prodded curiously, propping her elbows on the table.  

Solas smiled. “Amanatha. Amanatha Lavellan.”  

If Solas had been paying attention, he would have noticed the brief look of alarm on her face. Wisdom knew of Amanatha for the young woman often visited her in the Fade as well. She often viewed the young Dalish as her own child and she viewed Wisdom as a mother-figure. In fact, the night before, Amanatha had come to her for advice on a potion. What she had need of it for, Wisdom did not know for certain but was certain it was for healing purposes. “A fine name for a young woman such as her. It seems to me that you are quite fond of her. Do you love you?”  

“I- maybe...” He admits. “At least I can see us being drawn together slowly.”  

Wisdom hummed knowingly. “And does she love you?”  

“Her eyes reflect the sentiment, but I believe she does and is just taking her time.”  

“A wise young woman indeed.” Wisdom chuckled. “And one that has the Dread Wolf chasing his own tail.”  

“Must you tease me?” Solas seemed to pout but this only made the spirit laugh more.  

The world around them began to shift as the mage began to stir from his sleep. Wisdom glanced at Solas with a kind smile. “You wish my guidance: Follow your heart for once. The dragon will be your guide. Now off you go. I will be here whenever you wish to speak with me.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Solas’ eyes snapped open when he heard a thump on his door, followed by someone giggling. The mage rolled his shoulders then stretched his arms over his head before going on with his morning routine. He slung his staff over his shoulder and made his way to the door. He had just opened the door when something wet and slimy fell on his head and he found a few dead fish at his feet. He scrunched his nose at the detestable smell and removed a piece of cloth from his bag then cleaned the slime off his head and face. He spotted Sera rolling on the snow laughing like a mad woman at the expense of the apostate. Solas exhaled in annoyance before making his way towards the chantry. Ever since the strange city elf had joined the Inquisition, she had made it her personal mission to test his patience. Still, he could not deny her skills, no matter how bizarre they were. His sharp ears twitched to the sound of Cullen speaking to Amanatha and their other advisors.  

“We don’t have the manpower to take on the castle!” The knight-commander protested. “Either we find another way in or give up on this nonsense and go for the Templars again.”  

“Cullen, you said so yourself that the Lord Seeker has rejected all audiences from the Inquisition.” Amanatha pointed out. “Even the Templars you recruited told me so. Also, have you forgotten that Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister?”  

Josephine chimed in next handing a letter she had received from Alexius. “The letter that arrived from Alexius three days ago asked for the Herald of Andraste by name. It is an obvious tra-Oh! Solas, I did not see you there.”  

Amanatha turned towards the apostate then cringed when she smelt the scent of fish on him. She gave him a knowing look to which he nodded in confirmation then accepted another clean cloth with a refreshing cleansing oil on it and continued to remove the residue still sticking to his skin. Turning back to her advisors, Amanatha narrowed her eyes to the map. From what she gathered from Cullen, the castle in Redcliffe where Alexius was residing in, was built like a fortress having stood up against countless assaults. Solas was in agreement with Cullen that if the woman entered the castle, they would lose their only means of closing the rifts. However, Leliana countered that if they ignored the summons, they’d lose not just the mages but have a hostile foreign power right on their doorstep.  

“Even if we assault the keep, it would be for naught.” Josephine stated gesturing to everyone as a whole, “An Orlesian Inquisition’s army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied.”  

“The bastard has outplayed us.” Cullen all but snarled, gripping the pommel of his sword.  

Amanatha seemed to be staring at the keep on the map intently and Solas could see a grin forming on her face. “I assume by the smile on your face that you have a plan?”  

The woman beamed at the apostate. “Oh, I do indeed.” She lifted her head towards her spymaster. “Leliana, you know that keep better than anyone. Perhaps some secret passages?”  

The red-headed woman soon found herself smiling as well. “Yes. There is a secret passage leading into the castle, an escape route for the family though it is too narrow for the troops.”  

“What about agents?”   

Leliana nodded her head. “I was just thinking that.”  

Cullen shook his head. “Too risky. They’ll be discovered long before they reach the magister.”  

“Which is why I will be the distraction.” Amanatha informed her advisors. “That should give you ample time to infiltrate the castle. Besides, our ace has arrived.”   

Everyone turned as the door opened and Dorian sauntered into the room with a grin. Amanatha informed Leliana that without the Tevinter’s aid, her agents would never get past the Magister’s magical defenses. Amanatha also added that she would be bringing Solas and Blackwall with her just to be safe. Once they had their assignments, Amanatha ordered Josephine to return the letter to Alexius and inform him of her arrival tomorrow afternoon. With that taken care of, Solas followed Amanatha to the apothecary where she found the herbs Adan left for her as she requested. Solas saw that she had witherstalk, felandaris, crystal grace and was that royal elfroot?  

“What are you brewing today?” Solas inquired as she grounded up the herbs in silence.   

She poured the dried powder into a flask. “Something I hope we won’t need.”  

“Care to indulge me, da’len ?”   

Amanatha glanced at Solas. “It’s more experimental than anything but I am making a potion to try and counter the effects of red lyrium. Least that’s my hope... As I said its experimental and I hope we won’t need it.”  

“If you think we won’t need it, then why make it?” Solas asked as she slowly stirred the herbs into some boiling water.  

The woman laughed softly while she stirred the mixture slowly. “Father often said ‘Better to have something you don’t need on hand, then to need it later and not have it’. Go and relax, Solas. Tomorrow’s going to be rather interesting.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The tension couldn’t have been thicker the next morning. The morning fog was just fading away by the time Amanatha and her companions arrived at Redcliffe castle. As they crossed the bridge into the massive structure and into the building’s main entrance, they were greeted by several mages in white and gold robes, possibly Tevinter acolytes. They seemed more than tense themselves as they stared at her and her companions, almost assessing them quietly before one of them spoke. “The Magister’s invitation was for Mistress Lavellan only and no one else.” The guard gestured at the apostate and Warden. “You lot wait here.”  

“Oh, my apologies but where I go, my companions follow.” Amanatha smirked. “If the Magister does not like it, I can just leave.”  

The guard and the elf glared at each other for several minutes before he nodded curtly and motioned for them to follow. The Dalish glanced at Solas and Blackwall before they proceeded forward to the main chamber where they found Alexius sitting upon the throne, one leg perched on the opposite knee and Felix standing on the right side of the throne while Fiona occupied the left. Upon seeing the woman and her companions, Alexius quickly rose to his feet to greet them. “My friend. It is so good to see you again...” He paused, briefly glancing at the two men flanking the elvhen woman. “And your associates as well. I am certain we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties.”  

“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?” Fiona asked bitterly.  

Alexius turned towards the former Enchanter before calmly replying. “Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.”  

“Of course, she trusts you Alexius.” Solas snarked sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. “I am certain many people put their lives in your hands. After all, you have one of those faces.”  

“Did you just grow a sense of humor?” Snorted the Dalish in feign shock. Solas smirked back but remained quiet and Amanatha shook her head smiling. “I think Fiona should stay. After all, she is worried about her charges.”  

“Yes, fine.” Alexius grumbled, waving his hand in a dismissive manner before sitting back down in his chair. “The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach and I, of course, have them. So, what will you offer in exchange?”  

“Wrong question, Alexius. I did heal your son at the inn, so I believe by Tevinter standards: You owe me.” Countered the elf. “However, I am curious about your time magic.”  

Alexius smirked. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.”  

“She knows everything, Father.” Felix said as he stepped down to stand before his father. “I was and still am concerned about you.”  

Alexius glared at his son before he strolled down the small flight of stairs and stood before standing in front of Amanatha. “You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark- a gift you don’t even understand- and think you are in control?” He gripped her left hand tightly. “You are nothing but a mistake.”  

Amanatha closed her eyes, lightning sparking from her wrist forcing Alexius to release her and as she opened her eyes, there was a cold light emanating from them. “You are not the first to call me a ‘mistake’ nor will you be the last. As for the mark, I know it is connected to the Fade. So, care to tell me who the mark was actually intended for? Or would you like another dose of lightning?”  

“It belongs to the Elder One. It was supposed to be a triumphant moment for the Tevinter.”   

Felix grabbed his father’s shoulders and shook him slightly in disbelief. “Father, are you even listening to yourself?!”   

“Of course he’s not my dear Felix.” Dorian’s voice echoed throughout the chamber as the young Tevinter mage sauntered out of the shadows and leaned against the pillar behind him. “He sounds just like the cliché everyone expects us to be.”  

There was a sad look in the Magister’s eyes. One that reflected betrayal from a close friend. However, Amanatha was not focused on that. Instead, it the mentioning of this ‘Elder One’. While the title resonated very little with her, the Dalish woman could not deny that there was a familiar and unsettling weight to the title. Then it clicked. “This ‘Elder One’ that you serve, he is the one responsible for the death of the Divine.” She realized before another question sprang from her lips. “What is he?”  

“It matters not what he is.” Alexius sneered. “Only that he will soon ascend to godhood, and he will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.”  

Dorian furrowed his eyes, baring his teeth. “Have you gone mad?! Why would you do this? We swore that this was the sort of thing we didn’t want happening.”  

The answer was simple. Amanatha could see it plain as day. The way Alexius doted on his son. The fact that Felix was suffering from an illness caused from being exposed to the Blight. Alexius was doing this out of love for his son. She shook her as the men argued. Just as Alexius ordered his men to attack, their bodies fell, throats slashed open by the Inquisition's assassins. Amanatha drew her blades and crossed them defensively in front of her. “It’s over Alexius. Your men are dead, and you have nowhere to go. Please listen to reason. For Felix’s sake.”  

“You... are a mistake! You should have never existed.” Alexius spat at the woman once more before holding up his hand, a strange levitated in his palm, pulsing and glowing with that familiar warp of time magic. “But that can easily be rectified now.”  

Amanatha tried to summon a spell to protect herself, but Dorian was faster. He swung his staff, sending a wave of magic slamming into Alexius’ hand which smacked the old man in the face. But it was too late, for a spiraling vortex spiraled around both the young Tevinter and the Herald. All Solas saw in that moment was the look of fear and uncertainty in Amanatha’s eyes as she reached out for him but was utterly swept away by the magic.  

“Herald!”  

“AMANATHA!!!”  

Chapter Text

Amanatha coughed violently as she found herself drenched in cold water along with Dorian who was sputtering out water himself. The elf and Tevinter did not have long to process what was going on as two armored warriors started to attack them. Amanatha didn’t waste time as she cast chain lightning onto their adversaries just as Dorian erected a barrier around both of them to protect them from the electricity. Once their adversaries had been defeated, the two finally stopped to take a breath.  

“Displacement...” Dorian seemed to realize stroking his mustache. “Interesting. It was probably not what Alexius had intended though. The rift must have moved us to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?” 

“The last thing I remember was being in the castle.”  

Dorian’s eyes lit up in conclusion. “Of course! We’re still in the castle but it is not a matter of where but when! The amulet he used moved us through time!” 

“Well from the looks of things and how those guards kept shouting “ by the Elder’s Blood ”, I am going to assume we went forward in time.” The elf said as she pulled a bloodied key from the dead guard’s pocket. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

She unlocked the door and proceeded forward. They quickly discovered that they were with a dungeon of sorts but growing out of the walls and cells were red crystals pulsing with a malevoent energy. Amanatha shuddered. This was red lyrium. Unfortunately, the poor sod they found in one of the cells was not much help. Poor thing was traumatized beyond belief, muttering prayers and chants to the Maker and to Andraste and didn’t even register the presence of the two travelers. Suddenly, Amanatha twitched her ears hearing pained moans on the upper level. She quickly drew her blades and fused them together to make her bow then motioned for Dorian to follow her. They made their way up the stairs in to another level of cells only to find it completely enveloped in red lyrium. Amanatha twitched her sharp ears again and turned to the cell by the door leading further up. That sight that greeted her nearly had the Dalish avert her gaze. 

“Fiona!” The Herald exclaimed in horror. 

The elvhen enchanter was rooted to the spot, red lyrium crystals growing out of her body like a twisted, corrupted tree. When Fiona turned her head to stare at the Dalish, she let out a pained grunt as several crystals sprouted from her shoulder. “You’re... alive? How?” She questioned with a whimper. “I saw you... disappear... into the rift.” 

“No time to explain. Do you know what the date is?” Dorian interrupted. “We need to know how far in time Alexius threw us.” 

“Harvestmere... 9:42... Dragon.” Fiona winced. 

A year?! They were thrown through time by a year and all this damage transpired during their absence. From what Fiona managed to gasp, Alexius served the Elder One who was more powerful than the Maker and those who stood up to him did not last long. She then rasped that Leliana was within the keep further up the building closer to the main chamber. Before they departed, Fiona gave a final warning. “Beware... Herald... your apostate friend...” Before Amanatha could question her, the woman gave out a cry as the lyrium fully encased her, silencing her completely. 

“Well, that was terrifying...” Dorian shivered as they pressed on. 

They stumbled into a chamber they thought led up to the next level but found that it was a dead end. Until someone spoke. 

“I can hear you.” 

“Blackwall?” Amanatha gasped in alarm as she rushed over to the cell to find the Grey Warden leaning against the wall, a red aura wrapped around him.  

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Blackwall growled thinking she was an illusion then frowned seeing the look in her eyes as she opened the cell. “No... those eyes I remember, and they would not deceive me.” 

He watched the elf rummage through her bag and produced a large bottle of blackish blue liquid. She took out another flask and poured a third of the bottle into the flash then handed it to Blackwall who took it in confusion. “Drink it and brace yourself.” She ordered. 

The Warden brought the concoction to his nose and took a wary sniff before grimacing at the foul smell it was emitting but downed it in one shot. Surprisingly, it tasted sweet, but shortly after drinking it, he felt his stomach twist up in knots. He started looking pale and before he could stop himself, he spun around and heaved onto the floor of his cell. Red crystals could be seen glittering in the vomit however, the potion had not finished its work. After a couple more bouts of vomiting, Blackwall felt Amanatha pat his back gently and he stood back up, panting. 

“By the Maker’s Breath, that was absolutely horrible.” The Warden growled at her.  

Amanatha quirked a brow at him. “But you feel better, don’t you?” 

Blackwall merely grunted but she was right. He felt like his normal self. He glanced back at the crystals on the ground and sneered at them. The man stumbled slightly over to a weapons rack and pried a sword and shield from the wall. He brought the Herald up to speed informing all that had transpired since her unexpected jump through time. Since Amanatha and Dorian’s disappearance, the Venatori assassinated Empress Celene of Orleais and invaded all of Thedas in full force. However, it wasn’t just with mages, but they invaded with armies of demons. Their Elder One had since ascended and there was not much left in the world. Blackwall staggered slightly, still feeling a bit woozy from the potion he was given but he shook his head with a grunt. Still, he raised his shield, silently showing Amanatha that he was still willing to stand fight alongside her. 

“Where’s Solas?” She asked as the trio backtracked to the previous level. 

Blackwall stiffened slightly. “Well...” 

“Is he here in the castle?” 

The Warden nodded grimly. “He was captured recently from what I heard but he didn’t sound like himself shortly afterwards.” 

Amanatha peered around a vacant hallway leading towards another stairway. “What do you mean? Did they kill him?!” 

Blackwall shook his head again. “I don’t know what they did but I know he’s not dead.” 

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Dorian muttered brandishing his staff. “Do you know which cell he may be on?” 

The Warden pointed upwards. “He’s being detained in one of the torture cells where Leliana is being held.” 

They hurried onwards. They had just rounded another corner up a flight of stairs where they spotted two shadows before a door. Unsurprisingly, they soon found their path blocked by more Venatori fanatics with their backs turned to the group. Before Blackwall went charging into battle, the elf grabbed the man and pressed a finger to her lips. She jabbed her thumb in their direction and the trio could hear the guards speaking. She closed her eyes then focused her hearing on their whispers. It was difficult for she kept hearing something or someone screaming or howling further ahead but what she did manage to catch was that Leliana was towards the very back of the torture chamber in a cell closest to the throne room. So, that meant they were on the right track... Now, they needed to find Solas, rescue Leliana then confront Alexius. Once she got all she could from them, Amanatha turned her head and moved aside for Blackwall who barreled into the two Venatori guards and slammed them hard into the wall, knocking them unconscious though the Warden quickly slew them, not wanting to take any chances. They peeked in at least seventeen different cells and found no sign of the elvhen apostate. Where is he? The Herald thought to herself, worry filling her mind. 

She opened another door and nearly slammed it shut when a massive black beast lunged at her. “ Fenedhis !” 

Blackwall and Dorian rushed over to the startled elf as she leaned against the door panting in alarm. “Are you alright, my Lady?” Asked the Warden and she nodded her head. 

“Yes... Yes, I’m alright. Just surprised.” 

“What is in there?” The Tevinter mage inquired curiously.  

“I have no idea but I’m going in for a second look.” She said patting her chest to calm her racing heart. "Wait here and keep watch."

Before the two could protest, Amanatha gave them a pointed look and the two immediately went quiet as she slipped back inside the room. She was met once more by a series of threatening snarls and almost demonic sounding growls. She opened her right palm, small embers flickering to life as she lit a torch behind her then stiffened when she heard the sounds of chains being pulled taut. When she turned towards the source, she immediately found herself face-to-face with a wolf. A rather large wolf the size of a horse with black fur as dark as the starless skies though its fur was radiating the same red energy from the red lyrium. Its eyes were covered by a large metal band forcing it to rely on its sense of smell and its hearing. Around its neck and back legs were chains anchored to the floor. As quietly as she could, Amanatha approached the beast, its ears swiveling to the slightest sounds.  

“Easy, falon .” She whispered softly, lowering herself to her knees and shimmied over to the animal. “Easy... I’m not here to hurt you.” 

The wolf snarled; lips pulled back revealing gleaming fangs as its head followed her voice. 

“I’m just going to-” Amanatha didn’t have time to finish her sentence when the wolf whipped around and tackled her. The Dalish yelled in surprise, holding her left arm as the animal sank those dagger-like teeth into her flesh. “OW!” 

The wolf clamped down harder and seemed intent to tear the elf’s arm off. Hissing, Amanatha gripped the metal band around its eyes, her hand wrapped around the lock and with another grunt of effort, used a flame spell to carefully melt the metal. When it softened, the Dalish flash froze the metal so quickly that it became brittle. She yelled again, feeling her arm growing numb in the wolf’s mouth while it chomped harder and with a final effort, Amanatha sent a current of lightning through the metal causing it to shatter under the stress. The wolf’s eyes suddenly widen as it finally got a look at the woman. Silvery-blue eyes. Amanatha knew those eyes but couldn’t find the words at first. There was no way. There was absolutely no way, but those eyes were unmistakable. 

“S-Solas!” She blinked in shock. “Solas, is that you?”  

His ears perked forward as his death grip lessened. 

“Hold on, let me free you.” The wolf quickly released her arm and stared at her in disbelief, ears pinning back as the woman broke through his bonds. As the last chain clattered away from its victim, Amanatha grunted when she was suddenly embraced by the elvhen apostate as he shifted back to his more familiar form. “I saw you die...” He said in the faintest of whisper, almost as if he were afraid that she’d disappear again. 

“I’m hard to kill.” She joked, earning a little laugh and she found herself hugging him back tightly with her good arm. “No. The spell Alexius cast only displaced me and Dorian. Before I continue, drink this.”  

She released the apostate then rummaged through her bag, ignoring the blood still pouring through the bite mark, and she handed him a portion of the elixir she had given Blackwall. Solas gave the mixture a wary look. “Does it work?” He asked as he still remembered when she had crafted the potion.  

The Dalish woman nodded her head. “It does but be prepared for an upset stomach.”  

Solas cringed as he down the potion. No sooner did he ingest the drink, he had turned away from her, his stomach expelling more of the red lyrium crystals. Thankfully, he did not have nearly the amount of red lyrium as Blackwall did. Still, he was a bit unsteady from the exertion when Amanatha assisted him in maintaining balance. He sought his staff still hanging on the wall near the torches, shaking his head at the incompetence of his captors then nodded at the Dalish. Just as she was about to open the door, Solas quickly snatched Amanatha’s injured arm carefully. 

“Let me heal this.” He said as his fingertips began glowing with a soft gold light. “It’s the least I can do...” 

Amanatha winced as the punctures slowly closed leaving faint scars in their wake. Solas apologized softly as he completed the task then followed her out. “Wait, Solas was in there? What was that thing though?” Dorian asked, peering into the room, searching for the creature. 

“A rather powerful illusion.” Solas stated with a shrug, eyes flicking briefly to Amanatha who remained silent deciding not to say anything.  

Fortunately, the Warden and the Tevinter accepted it, and they hurried towards the back of the of the vast chamber. Amanatha could hear what sounded like a Venatori interrogating a woman about the Maker. When the woman spoke, she immediately recognized it as Leliana. Amanatha held up her hand, ordering the group to hold back and keep vigil and she knelt down, pulling out her dagger as she picked the lock. As quietly as she could, the elf woman slowly pushed the door open, her daggers twisting to together to form her bow and she took aim only to confront a horrid sight. Leliana was hanging by her wrists, her face sunken and looked like it had aged several decades. The spymaster spotted the elf who held a finger to her lips, and she nodded slightly. Amanatha rose to full height and whistled, causing the Venatori torturer to spin around in alarm. Taking advantage of the distraction, Leliana managed to wrap her dangling legs around her captor’s neck, and with an elegant yet deadly roll of her hips, she snapped the Venatori’s neck with a satisfied smirk. 

Amanatha rushed over to the body and grabbed the keys. She jerked her head at Blackwall to help support Leliana and alleviate the strain the woman had endured. While the Warden practically had the spymaster sit on his shoulders, Amanatha unlocked the manacles. “You’re alive.” Leliana winced as Blackwall lowered her to her feet.  

“Did the bastard force you to ingest any red lyrium?” Amanatha asked as her spymaster collected a few of the torture tools then grabbed a bow from the table.  

“No. They wanted to break my will first. I did not let them.” Leliana growled then nodded her head towards the door. “Come on. The magister’s probably in his chambers.” 

Dorian frowned in surprise. “You’re... not curious as to how we got here?” 

Leliana furrowed her brows into a deep scowl. “No. Nor do I care.” 

“Leliana,” Amanatha jogged after the woman. “We can reverse this if we can return to our timeline but to do that, we need your help. I can not undo your suffering... and I’m sorry but-” 

Leliana gripped the elf woman’s shoulder. “You were always a good soul. I knew this even on that day, but I do not wish to speak about what has happened when you vanished.” 

Amanatha nodded her head and proceeded to follow the spymaster. Upon exiting into what looked to be a beautiful courtyard, now a ruined wasteland, Amanatha and Dorian gasped at the sight. The sky was a dark green, and rifts were all over the place. Suddenly, a thought entered Amanatha’s mind and she glanced at Leliana. “Um... Leliana?” The spymaster flicked her glace briefly at the Herald. “Where’s Felix?” 

“You’ll see soon enough.” 

“Leliana... please.” Amanatha pressed with concern. 

Leliana stopped and rolled up her sleeve revealing a plethora of scars. “Since your disappearance, the magister used my blood and skin to ‘help’ Felix with his condition.” 

“That shouldn’t have been possible.” The Dalish shook her head. “The elixir I used should have given him at least ten to fifteen years!” 

“The Elder One somehow managed to cause his condition to flare as a reminder to those who fail him. That is all I will say.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Mythal have mercy!” Amanatha exclaimed as they finally entered the throne room. The once gorgeous and decorated room was now dilapidated and in tatters. Standing on the desecrated throne were two figures. One standing upright and the other... Amanatha couldn’t tell if it was human or an animal until she drew nearer. Her head swiveled towards Leliana in horror as she nodded in confirmation at the poor creature. It was indeed Felix but he no longer looked human. He looked more akin to a darkspawn hurlock. Amanatha growled darkly as she clenched her bow tightly, the grip digging into her flesh as she locked eyes with Alexius. 

“Are you happy now, Alexius? Are you proud of your work?” Amanatha hissed through her teeth at the man as he turned towards her. “Proud of what has become of your son?!” 

Dorian stared at the creature hunched over muttering unintelligible. “That’s Felix?! Maker’s Breath, Alexius what have you done?! 

“I knew you would appear again...” He responded, sounding tired, defeated even distant. “Even if I knew not when.” 

The elf trembled with silent rage. “Was it worth it?” 

“No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I have gone back in time, I always failed.” He sighed. “Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One is on his way here for all of us.” 

Amanatha narrowed her eyes then sensed that Leliana had slipped away only to find her standing behind Felix who stared blankly at the world around him not even aware that he had a dagger pressed against his throat. Alexius immediately became tense. He had a pleading look in his eyes as he begged the spymaster to spare his son. He even went so far as to say he would do anything they asked. However, as Amanatha stared at the poor boy, she knew that there was nothing left. The Dalish and Leliana spared each other a look. “Give Felix a peaceful death, Leliana... Set him free.” Ordered the elf. Leliana was more than eager to oblige as she drew her blade across her victim’s throat and lowered the boy to the ground as he closed his eyes almost in relief. Alexius roared in rage, staff raised over his head only for him to scream when an arrow made of lightning pierced through it and pinned him to the wall.  

“Reap what you sow, bastard.” Amanatha spat as she swiped the amulet from Alexius’ pocket.  

Before the magister could even break free, another arrow pierced punctured through his eye and skull causing his head to hang lifelessly. The elf tossed the amulet to Dorian who stared at the trinket sadly. He felt Amanatha squeeze his shoulder as he gave the jewelry a glance over. “Give me an hour to work out the spell Alexius used, and I can reopen the rift... hopefully.” 

“You don’t have an hour!” Leliana snapped pointing at the door as a faint commotion could be heard outside. “You must leave now!” 

A bestial roar resonated outside, shaking the castle’s foundation. Solas turned towards the door then glanced at Dorian and Amanatha. “You cannot stay here.” He then turned his head towards Blackwall who was already raising his shield and blade, briefly bobbing his head in silent agreement. The elvhen apostate flicked his gaze back at the duo. “We’ll hold them off, give you time.” 

“Solas...” Amanatha’s eyes widened in shock. “No! That’s suicide!”  

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, silencing her. Too stunned, the woman stared at him, and he gave her a sad smile. “The only way we live, is if this day never comes.” He said pulling away from her as Dorian began to cast his spell. “ Emma isenatha, ma vhenan .” As soon as he finished his piece, Solas, Leliana and Blackwall got into defensive positions. The mage erected a powerful barrier that strained to repel the demon army behind it. Leliana drew her bow and Blackwall, his shield. Amanatha yelled in disbelief as red and black flames snuffed out the apostate’s barrier as though it were a mere cloud of dust. Immediately, demons began pouring into the room. Terror demons tackled Leliana, claws ripping into her flesh. Demons of despair swarmed around Blackwall, encasing him in a sheet of ice but none were able to withstand Solas’ lightning magic. He glanced over his shoulder briefly watching a rift in time opening behind Amanatha and the Tevinter. He turned his attention back to the three pride demons now standing before him, but Amanatha did not see his fate as she and Dorian disappeared through the time warp. 

Chapter Text

Solas stared at the spot the Herald had occupied only moments ago. She was gone. The look of terror on her face seared into his memory. Blackwall and Leliana were mortified. Their one chance of sealing the Breach was gone. The magister seemed rather pleased with himself and turned to face the Herald’s companions. However, the same black and emerald magic that killed the young Tevinter and the Herald suddenly returned and belched the two back out. Dorian smirked sadly at his former friend. Amanatha, on the other hand, had a pained look on her face but it quickly faded into a scowl as she loomed over Alexius who had fallen to his knees in defeat.  

“You must listen to reason, Alexius.” She said coldly. “Or else you will lose your son sooner rather than later. But remember this, Magister. We’re born, we live, we die thus is it better to never have been born at all or do we enjoy the time we are given during this short period we call life?” 

Alexius glanced at his son with a forlorn expression before Amanatha spoke once more. 

“I gave your son nearly fifteen more years to live. Fifteen years he did not have previously. The time you sent us to, your so-called ‘Elder One’ stripped it away turning him into a mindless husk within a year.” She growled before unclenching her fists. “I know your intentions were good-natured: a father trying to save his family. But the road to Hell is often paved with good intentions... You still must answer for what you have done. Leliana, would you and your agents kindly escort Alexius back to Haven, please?” 

Leliana nodded her head as her people apprehended the Tevinter Magister then escorted him and his son out of the castle.  

“Well, I’m glad that’s over with.” Dorian said trying to ease the tension within the room, however the sound of marching feet had him quickly change his tune. “Or not.” 

Strolling into the castle was King Alistair and his queen. Amanatha approached the two and gave a respectful bow. While she and the grand enchanter conversed with the nobles, Solas stared at the Dalish woman. Her posture was strong and appeared confident but the energy she was radiating contradicted how she presented herself. Whatever was being said, seemed to be going in the Inquisition’s favor because the former Warden started smiling and was nodding his head. The tension in the air immediately disappeared and after a few brief words with Fiona, Amanatha returned to her companions with a tired smile.  

“We now have the mages allied with us.” She said, “Let’s return to Hav-” 

Her words were cut off as she nearly collapsed in exhaustion. Solas had quickly caught her in alarm. Dorian peered over the mage’s shoulder and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “She more than likely exhausted herself after the events we went through to return from that dreadful timeline.” 

Solas scooped the tired woman in his arms before bobbing his head towards the doors. “Then let us not waste any more time. We must return to Haven so that she may rest.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Three days later...  

They were still waiting for the rest of the rebel mages to arrive as well as their shipments of lyrium to help boost the magic of both the Templars who left the Lord Seeker’s services and the Mages. Solas did not see much of Amanatha since Redcliffe. She seemed to be avoiding him in particular, and while he tried not to let it bother him, he missed her conversations. He saw Blackwall hauling some crates to the tavern while conversing with Sera when he finally approached them. “Oui, Elvhen Glory wishes to speak to us.” The city elf huffed ignoring the brief bristling of the apostate. “What has your ears in a twist?” 

“Have any of you seen Amanatha?” 

Sera grinned mischievously. “Awe, Baldy’s lookin for Glowy.” 

“Ever the tactful one.” Solas hissed between his teeth. 

“Still sore about the fish, yeah?” 

The mage exhaled sharply when Blackwall jerked his head in the direction of the Chantry. “Last I saw, she was with Cullen, and he seemed rather irritated.” 

The mage merely bowed his head and turned towards the building. As he opened the doors, he arrived in the middle of what seemed to be an argument between the Dalish and Cullen. The way the former Knight-Captain was belittling the Herald seemed similar to a father reprimanding a child. “What the fuck were you thinking, turning the mages loose with no oversight?! The Veil is torn open!” The blonde man scolded. “The Templars we have should be more than enough to seal the Breach.” 

“Cullen, we’ve been over this already. We need both Templars and Mages! We need the mages because they are already properly trained to use large amounts of mana, and the Templars are capable of negating it if it gets out of hand or a mage starts to struggle!” Amanatha pinched her brow with her fingers in exasperation. “Both of which are moot by now because neither side trusts each other due to the wounds inflicted from both sides. You included.” 

“The mages could do just as much damage as demons themselves.” Cullen countered. 

“Oh! So, you’re calling me a demon now too?” 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“But you're thinking it...” 

“I-” 

“Cullen, I got a full taste of what’s to come if we all keep arguing.” Amanatha snarled gripping her left arm. “We cannot fail. I will not let that fate happen...” 

Dorian chuckled as he leaned against a pillar next to Solas. “Ah yes. Orleais falls and the Tevinter Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone! You should have more faith in the lass. She already has a plan.” 

“Indeed, I do. Cullen, I need you, Vivienne, Fiona and Leliana to coordinate with mages and Templars. One Templar paired with two mages. I already informed Vivienne and Fiona of a trust building game they will play while we await the lyrium shipments.” Amanatha heaved a sigh, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Solas noted the bags under her eyes, and she glanced at him in surprise, but she gave a weak smile. “Once we have our shipments in, we’ll go over the next phase in the war room. Right now, I need some air.” 

Not even allowing her advisors a chance to speak or stop her, the Dalish hastily retreated from the building. Solas stared at Dorian while the advisors returned to their duties. “What exactly happened?” 

“Has she not told you?” The Tevinter questioned in surprise. “She explained it to Blackwall and the others.” 

The elvhen apostate shook his head. “She has neglected to speak to me as of late and during our brief time together, she often sought my advice and such.” 

“Ah... It could have something to do with what your future self said to her when Alexius threw us forward into time.” Dorian recalled. “She did seem rather... distraught at the time.” 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas found himself standing in front of Amanatha’s residence a few hours later and lightly rapped on the door. When he received no reply, he tried again once more. This time, the door opened a crack, and a tired looking Herald stared up at him. “Is something wrong, Solas?” She asked clearly, trying to keep a mirthful tone but failing miserably. He simply gestured to her and after a moment’s hesitation, she allowed him inside.  

“You have been avoiding me, da’len .” He stated. “Why? Have I done something to offend you?” 

Amanatha shook her head as she took a seat on the floor by her crackling hearth, staring at the flames. “I’ve been... unsettled since Redcliffe. I can’t seem to get the images of that future out of my head.” 

“I do not discredit what you have seen but I hope you can forgive me when I ask this.” He knelt down beside her. “Are you certain you experienced time-travel? Could it have been an illusion, a trick of the Fade?” 

She laughed bitterly. “I’ve been to the Fade more than once... I’d know the feel of it. Also...” The Dalish elf held up her left arm and rolled her sleeve down revealing the bite-mark she had received from the future. “Illusions don’t leave physical evidence.” 

He reached out cautiously, and she offered him her arm to examine. His fingers trail along the bite with a frown. She admitted to being in the Fade more than once, but he did not think much of it as she had indeed been to it physically. “May I ask why this has you so unsettled to the point where you feel the need to hide from me?” 

“You’re the one who bit me.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Amanatha lifted her head, blue-green eyes looking in to his dark silver gaze. “In the future, you took the form of a wolf and attacked me. Granted you were blindfolded but...” 

“You say I was a wolf?” 

“Yes.” Amanatha chuckled a little. “Despite you biting me, you were incredibly soft... which brings me to my question. Are you a shape-shifter by any chance?” 

Solas quirked a brow at her. “Are you certain it was not just simply an illusion?” 

“As I said, illusions don’t leave marks like this.” She sighed. “But I'll take that as a ‘no’. Which is a pity.” 

“I never said I wasn’t.” 

“But you keep avoiding my questions.” She pointed out then turned her gaze back to the flames of the fire, missing the slight frown on his face. “But that wasn’t the only thing that happened that had me hesitant to speak to you.” 

Solas cocked his head to the side curiously. “Go on.” 

“I... it's what you said.” She said trying to find her words. “Before you died... you said ‘Emma isenatha, ma vhenan’.” 

“Is that what upset you?” He pressed her and she shrugged her shoulders. 

“It did and it did not. It did because it sounded like you wanted to say that for a long time, but it did not for it surprised me. I never had anyone speak like that to me.” 

The two sat in silence, both losing themselves in the warmth of the fire. He was at a loss for words once again, or rather he wasn’t sure what to say. He spared a glance at her, observing how the firelight illuminated her skin and added faint red tints to her raven-black hair. His heart ached though seeing the drained look in her eyes and suddenly recalled something. Perhaps it would cheer her up in the process too. At least, he hoped it would. “Since we happen to have some time to kill, perhaps you would like to accompany me to the Hinterlands?” He suggested earning a curious hum from the woman. 

“What is in the Hinterlands?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha shuddered slightly as they entered an abandoned ruin. Her magic thrummed in response to the strange air about them. “You said there’s an artifact here?” 

Solas hummed as he lit a few veil-fire torches then glanced over his shoulder almost hopeful. “Do you sense it?” 

“I sense something that’s making my own magic tingle. It feels nice...” She confirmed as she wandered around the room, tracing her hand along the ruined mosaics on the wall. From what she could perceive of the ruined art piece it depicted Elgar’nan, the Elvhen God of the Sun or The All-Father. She frowned recalling some of the Dalish tales about the god, but she shook her head. They were correct about one thing on the so-called Sun God: he was a rather vengeful one. Her hand fell from the wall and her fingertips struck something metallic, causing it to emit a rather pleasant chime, like a soft bell being rung. “Solas?” 

“Hmm?” He turned towards her and smiled. “Oh! You found it.” 

Amanatha brushed off the dirt and dust from the strange marvel. It looked like an orb made of polished smoky quartz but had black onyx cubes on the corners. Amanatha tilted her head curiously at it. “Is this Everite?” 

“The adornments are, yes but the globe itself is enchanted Nevarrite.” He answered as he stood beside her watching her fingers glide along the smooth stone. “Such artifacts were used for many things in Arlathan, though most were used as barriers.” 

“So, what is this one going to be used for?” 

“I’ll show you.” He said with a smile as he tapped the middle of the sphere, magic leaping from his own hand and reacting with the artifact. She watched in curious fascination as the artifact sprang to life with a bright emerald glow. He pulled his hand slightly away from the stone and the aura around the artifact expanded encasing it with its magic. A wave of energy washed over the two and rushed outside of the ruins leaving Amanatha slightly surprised and Solas smiled a little. “There we go. The Veil has been strengthened in this area and I sense another one in the Hinterlands.” 

“I sensed two.”  

“Well done.” He grinned as they left the ruins. “Let us see if we can activate them to prevent any tears across the lands here.”  

They managed to find the final two and were currently holed up in an abandoned cave when it started to rain outside. Amanatha was drying off Thestral while Solas got a fire going. By the time they returned tomorrow to Haven, the shipments would have arrived, and they could finally close the Breach. For now, the two gathered around the fire while the dracolisk stood near the entrance, keeping vigil. Amanatha rummaged through her pack and handed the apostate some dried ram meat and bread. Their fingers touched briefly causing the two to momentarily freeze before Solas cleared his throat in thanks. He watched as the woman whistled at her mount and tossed him a chunk of dried meat as well to which the animal caught it and munched contently. He frowned when she didn’t seem to take out any more rations. 

“You did not bring any rations for yourself?” 

She pulled the band on her head freeing her long tresses and shook her head to loosen the tension before answering. “I did. I’m just not hungry right now. By the way,” She lifted her head tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ma serannas, falon. I did not realize how much I just needed to get away from it all. Even if it was only temporary. Most people have trouble wrapping their heads around all that has transpired.” 

“I am not most people.”  

Amanatha snorted out a laugh. “Clearly. I appreciate you talking with me about it and... for not being... most people...” She blushed and looked away. “Okay, that sounded better in my head.” 

“If you wish for me to speak in Orlesian fashion, I could entertain the idea.” 

“Pfft! I can not see you speaking like an Orlesian.” 

She was proven wrong. He could indeed, do an Orlesian accent, but he sounded so ridiculous that she was laughing uncontrollably while holding her stomach. Solas found that he enjoyed her laugh. It felt like a tonic in its own way, and he found himself smiling at her briefly. Once her laughter had settled down, his gaze hardened as he stared into the flames. Sensing his demeanor change, Amanatha lifted her head to look at him then tilted it to the side. “What’s wrong?” 

“This ‘Elder One’... you have interfered with his plans twice now. Once at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and now again at Redcliffe.” He stated solemnly. “A being who aspires to godhood is unlikely to ignore such an affront. I suggest you steel yourself.” 

She nodded slightly. “Get some rest. I’ll take the first watch.” 

~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas stretched then frowned. He was warmer than previously and when he sat up, the blanket that Amanatha had brought with them was draped over him. He turned his head expecting to find the woman by the fire but instead she was gone. Thestral still remained, laying down licking and nibbling at his front claws when he noticed the apostate. The dracolisk tilted his head to the side as Solas rose to his feet and held up the blanket. The animal snorted before turning his attention to the sound of footsteps approaching. Amanatha had returned with three freshly caught rabbits and she smiled. “Sleep well?”  

Solas nodded as she dropped one of the rabbits in front of Thestral ignoring the greedy, happy growls as the mount ate his meal.  “You gave me your blanket?” 

“I did. You were shivering and before you ask why I did not wake you, I tried but you were out cold.” She answered and proceeded to skin their breakfast. “I just snuggled against Thestral for extra warmth.” 

The two ate in silence, tension evident. Today was the day she was going to seal the Breach, but she was more than nervous. The Dalish dealt with the remains of the breakfast and took care of putting out the fire, making sure that no embers escaped. Once finished, the elves made their way back to Haven where they found the Templars and Mages still playing the trust game and seemed to be enjoying it. When Solas stared down at the woman, she merely grinned and had him focus on the centers of the groups. He did and he chuckled.  

“You had asked some wisps to change color in correspondence to the power output between the groups.”  

She nodded her head proudly. “Yep! They can sense changes in magic faster and more accurately than the current magic users of this era. They turn blue when magic is too low and red when it becomes too much. When the wisps turn a gold color, the power balance is perfect.” 

Solas hummed at the ingenious plan. From what he was witnessing, when a Templar negated too much of the mages’ magic, they would back off and allow the mages to pour more power into the wisp. If the wisp turned red, the Templar would step in with their sword lightly touching the wisp and siphon the excess magic until it returned to a golden color. They were just arriving at the stables where Blackwall was leaning against a wall near the anvils. He gave the two elves a curt nod of greeting as they walked towards the town. It was louder than ever now with all the people now occupying the area. Amanatha didn’t much care for all the noise. In fact, Solas did not either for the two often shook their heads to deafen the overlapping voices, both silently cursing their luck of having such sensitive hearing. They parted ways for the moment to gather their supplies needed for the afternoon. 

“My dear, might I have a word with you?” Vivienne called out to the elvhen woman as she entered the chantry building. 

Amanatha diverted her path to the dark-skinned woman. “What may I do for you, Vivienne?” 

The two women talked for a good while though just as Amanatha expected, she did not agree with Vivienne’s opinion on mages. She even went so far as to state that the Herald needed to collar the mages once the Breach was closed. Thankfully, Leliana and Cullen found her and pulled her away from the conversation to go over the plan. Now that they had the supplies needed and their new allies were getting along thanks to the trust game she had them play, all they needed to do was seal the Breach. “Before we head up the mountain, Cullen?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is the Chancellor still lurking around?” 

Chapter Text

The air was tense as Amanatha and her allies made it to the Breach. The hole in the sky spiraled serenely above them like the eye of a great storm. She turned to look behind her as the mages and Templars took their positions. Casandra and Blackwall were on her flank while Solas stood beside her leaning slightly against his staff, his eyes staring up at the Breach. He then noticed the nervous look on her face as she opened her palm, and the mark sprang to life. The mage reached out and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before joining with the two warriors. Amanatha swallowed slightly before moving towards the Breach. Solas raised his staff over his head as he signaled for the mages to begin channeling their magic towards the Dalish. One by one, mages knelt down to their knees, staves striking the ground as the crystals infused within began to glow in a symphony of golden lights. Templars drew their blades, gleaming with bright blue auras as they, too, readied themselves.  

Amanatha’s mark sparked again as the Veil before her parted, allowing her to walk unharmed through its curtain. However, she began to stumble, her body tired from the struggle. Even though she had been through this curtain before, she was not used to the intensity. Gritting her teeth, she willed her magic to appear and in doing so, pulled forth the mana that the mages were channeling towards her. Some mages began to struggle from the exertion and their staves began flickering with red lights to which the Templars placed the tips of their swords against them, siphoning the unstable magic. Feeling her strength returning, Amanatha pushed forward until she was right at the seam. Her storm magic swirled around the mark, and she raised her hand towards the sky. Bluish purple lightning etched with emerald greed Fade magic spiraled around the Breach like serpents constricting around their prey, each twist and turn sealing more and more of the hole in the sky.   

As the final thread sewed shut, there was a blinding gold and green flash followed by a massive gust of wind that knocked many people off their feet. Several Templars and mages landed on top of each other from the shockwave. Solas winced after landing on a piece of broken wall and he rubbed his sore back. Casandra was rubbing the back of her head, having smacked her head against Blackwall’s shield and the Warden was on his knees popping his neck when he spotted the Dalish elf ahead looking up at the sky. Though green still, the sky’s wound was gone and from the looks of things properly sealed. Even wisps were dancing in excitement.  

“You did it!” The Seeker exclaimed in relief as she planted a hand on the elf’s shoulder.  

Amanatha could only nod her head, still reeling at her accomplishment. She helped the others collect the remainder of their supplies and followed them back to Haven. Solas brushed past her and turned his head to smile, earning one of her own. Now, they could breathe easy.  

~~~~~~~~~~  

There were bonfires all around Haven as the Templars, mages and townsfolk danced around them cheering and singing their praises. Varric, Sera and Cassandra were playing a game of cards against Josephine, laughing mirthfully. Solas was sitting on a wall with a sketchbook apparently drawing something while the Herald sat beside him overlooking the festivities as though keeping vigil. She was tense again. The apostate could see that easily from the way her eyes scanned the forests ahead. Footsteps approaching caused the two elves to turn their heads and they found Blackwall and Vivienne standing behind them. “Why so serious, my dear?” The Grand Enchanter inquired curiously. “The apostate has told you that the Breach has been sealed and instead of celebrating, you are brooding.”  

“She is right. Word of your heroism has spread.” Blackwall added with a smile. “Lighten up a little.”  

“The Warden is right, my dear. This was a victory.”  

“We can not become complacent.” Amanatha stated, returning her gaze to the forests. “I fear it is too soon to celebrate.”  

“My Lady, I insist that you are worrying too much.” Blackwall shook his head before following Vivienne back to join the party below.  

Another hour soon ticked by and Amanatha was becoming anxious. Solas placed his sketchbook back into his pack and glanced at the woman. “You already had Cullen evacuate most of Haven. What is wrong with-” His question was cut off as the Dalish held up a hand, a flicker of light in the distance catching her attention and soon enough, the chantry bell began ringing frantically. That meant trouble. Cullen rushed down the hill with the Herald and the apostate in tow. Armed forces were approaching and fast. Amanatha ordered Leliana and Cassandra to round up the remaining villagers to the chantry while she joined Cullen at the gate. The Knight-Commander informed her that a watchguard spotted a massive force approaching and another massive bulk still marching over the bulk of the mountain. When Josephine inquired what banner the forces were following, Cullen’s answer turned Amanatha’s blood to ice. “None.” He said gravely. Banging on the closed gates caused the group to jump slightly and everyone drew their weapons in response, waiting warily when the voice of a young man called out to them.  

“I can’t come in unless you open!”  

Amanatha pried one of the doors open and before her, stood a hulking beast of a man with his sword raised high intent on striking her down but before he could do so, the armored figure seized up, the sound a dagger piercing through his armor and he slumped to the ground, an oddly dressed young man standing behind him. He looked like he was wearing tattered clothes that peasants wore and covering his eyes was a large, brimmed hat. He was panting when Amanatha ran over to him to assess him for wounds. He called himself Cole and from the looks of things, had rushed to warn the Dalish woman and her allies about the oncoming forces. He added that the soldiers attacking them were known as Red Templars and served a being called the Elder One. He pointed at Amanatha with worry. “You know him, and he knows you.” Cole said urgently. “You took all his mages and some of his Templars. There!” The young man soon gestured to a hill far off in the distance where Amanatha could faintly see a grotesquely tall figure standing with what could only be described as a Templar in blood-red armor.  

Cole shuddered. “He is very angry that you took his mages.”  

“Cullen?”  

Cullen shook his head. “Haven is no fortress. In order to win this, we must control the battlefield.”  

“Then let’s return the greeting, shall we?” Amanatha heard Fiona say and the Dalish held out her arm.   

“No. I have a better plan. Fiona, you and the other mages erect a barrier, the strongest you can make around Haven. We need to finish rescuing the townsfolk and we can’t do that with those bastards pelting us.” Amanatha ordered then spun towards the Knight-Commander. “Cullen! Rally as many troops as we can muster and get them on those trebuchets! Aim for the mountain side! I’ll take a small team to back them up.”  

Amanatha pointed at Blackwall, Cassandra and Sera, silently ordering them to follow her as she rushed to the battlefield. As they left the safety of Haven, Solas, Fiona and the other mages, including Vivienne summoned a massive barrier around the town. Wisps and spirits of faith rushed from within the forests to reinforce their magic repelling both elemental attacks and flying boulders intent on destroying everything.  

~~~~~~~~~  

Minutes felt like hours as the apostate and the other mages strained to maintain the barrier. Solas saw the trebuchets firing without incident so that told him the Herald was still alive and successful. However, when he saw one of the trebuchets launch a flaming boulder into the mountainside, he almost lost concentration in his excitement. Snow, rock and lumber flooded towards the invading forces, sweeping them away or burying them under the cold ice and stone. He had to admit, Amanatha was turning out to be quite the leader. Meanwhile, at the trebuchet, Amanatha watched as the projectile caused a landslide and wiped out most of the invading forces. She glanced at Cassandra and Blackwall, wiping the sweat from her brow as they took the moment to catch their breath. However, her ears twitched and she jerked her head towards the sky. She swore she heard flapping. She strained to hear over the cheers of her companions and her eyes widened as a screech filled the air.   

“DRAGON!” She roared as she placed her hands in front of her and a pale blue shield wrapped around her, her companions and the soldiers.  

A ball of black and red flames slammed into the trebuchet, shattering it but luckily, the splinters and metal bounced harmlessly off of her and the soldiers. She barked another order, this time ordering a retreat back to the chantry. As they rushed back to the town, Amanatha spotted the blacksmith trying to break down the large crates blocking the door to his home that was on fire. She could hear him calling out to his family trapped inside. Blackwall immediately rammed into the debris and door collecting the small child the smith’s wife handed him while her husband carried her out. They were almost at the gates when they found themselves face to face with a monster the size of a house encased in red lyrium. The hulking monster was about to slam its mace-like hand into them when another hulking figure barreled into it, crushing it into the stone foundation of the wall.   

Their savior turned out to be a rather large looking qunari warrior with massive horns that reminded Amanatha of a charging bull an eyepatch over his left eye and a crest of a bull’s horns on his harness. The qunari grunted, pulling away from the crushed red lyrium monster and glanced at the Herald. “Sorry to cut in but you looked like you needed some help.”   

“And it is most appreciative though I think introductions will have to wait.”  

The qunari chuckled wryly. “Fair enough. You worry about that thing flying ahead and I will have my men round up the survivors.”  

“Meet us at the chantry!”  

“You got it!” The qunari nodded before whistling loudly and several other soldiers donning the same sigil as the qunari emerged following his lead.  

Solas hissed as the barrier he and the other mages conjured suddenly shattered from the dragon’s overwhelming fire attack, remnants of its power floating down like broken glass. He felt his chest ache as the wisps and spirits who aided them faded into nothingness. Fiona grabbed his arm as she pulled him towards the chantry with the other mages, but not before he caught a glimpse of the flying monstrosity flying overhead. If that thing was here, then perhaps so was the artifact. As he entered the chantry, he found Amanatha and the others along with brand new faces hunched over panting, bruised and tired from the events so far. The Dalish suddenly looked up as the strange man, Cole was holding up a gravely injured Rodrick. From what the apostate could overhear, the Chancellor had gotten between a Red Templar trying to kill an innocent and ended up with a sword to the gut. Even without Cole stating it out loud, the man was going to die.  

“What a charming boy...” Rodrick rolled his eyes as the lad set him down gently on a chair.  

Cullen jogged over to Amanatha who was staring at the door. “Herald, our position is-”  

“It is not good. I know, Cullen...” Amanatha finished his sentence gravely.  

He nodded grimly. “That archdemon stole back any time you might have earned us.”  

“I have seen archdemons. I was in the Fade but it looked like that.” Cole muttered.  

Cullen ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I don’t care what it looked like! That thing literally carved a path for that army, and they will kill everyone here!”  

Cole shook his head. “The Elder One doesn’t care about the village. He only wants the Herald.”  

“Hmmm. He wants me, but why?” She muttered to herself as she paced the floor. “Doesn’t matter at the moment. Give me a minute and I’ll think of something...”  

“Herald...” Rodrick called out to her, and she turned to face the dying man. “I cannot guide the survivors along the path I did previously when you asked for my help earlier. Not with those monsters now occupying it. There is another path. You wouldn’t know of it unless you made the summer pilgrimage. As I have.”  

“That’s it!” The Cullen nodded in understanding. “Amanatha, if Rodrick still remembers the path, I will have the survivors follow him while you keep our ‘friend’ busy.”  

“What?! Are you mad?!” Cassandra exclaimed. “How will she escape?”  

“Haha! I’ll find a way.” The young Dalish woman winked. “I aways do.”  

Cullen nodded then shook his head. “The scouts tell me one last trebuchet is armed but needs to be aimed at the mountain behind Haven. Keep the Elder One busy and wait for us to get above the tree line.”  

She nodded her head and turned towards the door. She reached for the handle only to find herself being pulled back. She was expecting the person to be either Blackwall or Cassandra but to her surprise, it was Solas holding her back. His eyes were pleading for her stay, as he opened his mouth to speak but alas, the words failed to make themselves known. Before he could process what was about to occur, Amanatha stood on her toes and whispered something in his ear then slipped away, closing the door and sealing it to prevent anyone from following her. Solas slammed his fist against the heavy door, but it refused to budge. When Cullen tried to grab his shoulders, the mage spun around, his fist connecting with the man’s chin. They had sent her out there to fight this Elder One, to face that Archdemon alone! They were willing to sacrifice the one person who had saved them from all the dangers of the Breach just hours before!  

“Are you mad?!” He snarled, watching Cullen rub his sore chin, a stunned expression on the human’s face. “You may as well have killed her by your own blade!”  

“It was the only way!” Countered the man as he stared back at the elvhen apostate. “With her sacrifice, we will be able to escape. I also believe that she can do this and if what I saw in her eyes is true, she will make it.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~  

Amanatha growled as she turned the gears on the wheel, the trebuchet locking into place facing the mountain. Her ears twitched as she erected a barrier in front her, just another bout of red and black flames slammed into her. The barrier held but shattered at the end of the attack knocking her backwards into the snow. She rolled onto her side panting as she stared at the inferno flickering with bright oranges and yellows. She pushed herself up just as a tall lanky looking figure glided through the flames unharmed. It was definitely male from the looks of it but everything about this creature screamed: wrong or darkspawn! He had a mantle of black feathers upon his shoulders. He wore what looked to be black robes fused to red flesh and she swore she could see some of his bones. His face was mangled looking, red lyrium sprouting from his face like a demonic helm. His hands had long bony fingers and were adorned with bangles bearing a strange inscription on them but what really had Amanatha frightened wasn’t the creature’s ghastly appearance. It was his eyes that had her on edge. They were the color of night, tinged with red and seemed to bore through her.  

She pushed herself up on to her feet only to twirl around as a massive dragon landed behind her. The dragon looked as though it had suffered immense burns as it did not have any scales but had pieces of black obsidian looking armor pieces littering different parts of its body. The beast arched its neck and threw its head to the smoke-filled sky then unleashed a screeching cry that had the elf covering her ears in pain. The sound was worse than someone dragging their fingernails along granite. She backed away when the dragon brought its head down, lips drawn back in a twisted snarl and puffs of smoke left its nostrils.  

“ Enough !”  

The tall figure behind her strolled over and the beast slunk sideways as though blocking any means of escaping. Amanatha whipped her head around to stare up at the figure and immediately grew tense when he locked his heartless gaze onto her. Damn, he’s one ugly bastard ... Amanatha thought to herself as she took in his visage and shuddered.  

“ Pretender! ” He sneered at her darkly. “ You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more !”  

“You call me a ‘pretender’ but what does that make you?” Amanatha countered. “A jester?”  

“ You resist. They always resist. It matters little .” He said, rebuking her comment. “ Know me, know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One! The will that is Corypheus and you will kneel! ”  

“I yield to no one. Especially not to a blatant farce trying to pretend that he is a god!”  

“ Such vulgarity but once more, it matters not .” Corypheus chuckled as he reached into the depths of his robes and pulled out a strange looking orb. It had a similar color to the Elvhen artifacts that she found in the Hinterlands but instead of a smooth surface, the orb had elegant grooves that seemed reminiscing of the waves of an ocean. “ I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now .”  

The sphere suddenly erupted to life, sparks of red and black energy crackling violently. Corypheus extended his free hand, radiating the same strange magic as the orb and pointed towards Amanatha. The Dalish hissed as her left palm sparked to life with green lightning. She gripped her wrist tightly as the strange sensation wracked through her arm. It felt like she was being repeatedly stabbed by ice needles and it felt like every nerve in her arm was on fire. She gritted her teeth as the pain intensified but she maintained eye contact with the vile bastard.  

“ You have foiled my plans before, ‘Herald’. You interrupted a ritual, years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose .” He sneered as he intensified the output of his spell and Amanatha let out a pained snarl. “ I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as ‘touched’, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens. And you used the Anchor to undo my work! The gall .”  

The Dalish elf yelled once more as she fell to her knees, cradling her wrist as searing pain wracked through her again. The Divine died because of this thing ? She thought in confusion as she glanced at the green spiral on her hand, watching it pulse and thrum painfully. Whatever it is, I can’t let him have it ! She ignored the footsteps approaching her and she curled up into a tight ball, whispering an incantation. “ Curuni telgo va issa hen ethelin, kostilus karn issa eruanna. Meld rūsīr issa sīr bona nyke kostagon mīsagon bisa vys hen se mor bona nas naejot mul ziry .” She growled when a clawed hand snatched her left wrist and hauled her up into the air forcing her to stare at the grotesque face that was Corypheus. His gaze was focused on the mark on her left hand.  

“ I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person . I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years, I was confused. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this Blighted world .” The being sneered once more then leaned his face so close to hers that she could practically smell the Blight in his breath. “ Beg that I succeed, Elf. For I have seen the throne of the Gods, and it was empty !”  

“Because you were not and never will be worthy to see what lies beyond the Golden Throne!” Amanatha snapped defiantly as she swung her feet upwards, kicking the strange orb out of his hand watching it clatter away under a bunch of debris. As he was distracted, she pulled one of her daggers free and plunged it deep into Corypheus’s shoulder.  

In a fit of rage, the monster hurled her into the trebuchet. She groaned and quickly rolled out of the way as he hurled a fireball at the machine, destroying it in the process. The Archdemon chortled reminding the Dalish woman that it was still present. Corypheus loomed over her after collecting his orb. He reached for her hand once more and Amanatha swore she saw his eyes broaden in horror. She quickly turned her hand over and gasped. The green spiral that had been prominent on her flesh when it first appeared was now only a faint scar on her palm. The pain was gone too, and she felt her own magic thrumming with a power she had never felt before. However, it would have to wait for Corypheus now looked more than pissed.  

“ The Anchor chose you it would seem. You have spoiled it with your stumbling .” He growled as he approached her, his dragon following like an obedient dog. “ So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation... no... the God... it requires. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival .”  

Amanatha laughed loudly as she sat on her knees and looked up at him, her eyes glowing strangely. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning danced across the skies then she spotted it in the distance. A single flaming arrow flying straight up past the tree lines, Cullen’s signal that that everyone was safe. She gave the creature a wink as lightning struck the very spot she once occupied. The dragon made a confused crooning sound and Corypheus furrowed his brows. A great flapping sound caught his attention, and he threw his head up to the sky. A dragon with brilliant sapphire blue scales hovered above him, streaks of gold trailing down either side of her neck. She was half the size of his dragon though.  

“Your arrogance knows no bounds. Good.” Amanatha laughed as she flapped her wings once more. “Savor your victory. Here’s your prize!”  

Before Corypheus could stop her, Amanatha whipped her draconic head towards the mountain behind the chantry and her jaws parted. “ STOP HER !” The Archdemon turned its attention towards the Dalish and snarled. Purple sparks started crackling with gold around Amanatha’s maw and she unleashed her attack but not before she felt sharp teeth sink into her abdomen. The Archdemon tossed her into the debris and loomed over the smaller dragon ready to finish her off when a rumbling caught their attention. Corypheus sneered as rock, snow, lumber came crashing down upon them. When he turned to look at his opponent, she was gone. Snarling once more, he leapt on to his dragon as it flew away from the chaos. Within moments, Haven was buried beneath the mountain, leaving hardly a trace of the once proud village.  

(Amanatha's dragon form)

Chapter Text

Her body ached and it felt wet. The smell of iron and salt was also not a pleasant scent either. Amanatha groaned and growled as she opened her draconic eyes weakly. She was in a cave of some sorts but from the smells that permeated the air, it belonged to the denizens of Haven. She let out a pained sigh of relief. That meant this was the escape route the others used earlier. Amanatha growled as she forced her body to move, ignoring the protest of her muscles screaming at her. Once on her feet, she took a moment to examine herself and winced as she lifted her right wing where a nasty bite, still bleeding, now resided. She gasped as she took a breath only to wheeze in the process. She didn’t feel any broken ribs so that was good, but the bite wound was refusing to close and Amanatha did not have enough mana nor potions or even a needle and thread to mend the wound. Though painful, she focused on her elvhen form and let out pained grunts as she shifted back. She was grateful that she was mostly clothed in her armor save for where the Archdemon attacked her. She limped over towards a crate where she found some torn cloth and immediately set to work patching herself up as best as possible. Once patched up, though it looked rather sloppy, Amanatha began to make her way through the passage.  

“Ah... there.” She panted, icy mist parting from her lips. “An exit...” 

The Dalish limped carefully towards the gaping maw that was the exit but just as she was halfway to her destination, three small, cloaked figures radiating a chilling aura appeared around her, eliciting soft shrilling cries. Despair demons ... The woman thought, feeling her teeth chatter. Just my luck . She reached for her daggers only to discover that they were nowhere to be found. More than likely lost in the debris from the battle. She took a defensive stance, right arm still clutching the bandage around her abdomen. She didn’t have the energy to fight them, but she wasn’t about to freeze to death from these demons. Suddenly, a voice whispered in her ear. It was so faint, she almost brushed it off. Instinctively, she lifted up her left hand and began to focus on the power the voice was whispering about. A rift opened above her and the three demons and like a supernova, exploded around them. Threads of Fade ether wrapped around the despair demons, ensnaring them like spider silk before yanking them back into the Veil. Not wasting any time, Amanatha hobbled out of the cave. 

She let out a shrill whine as she was greeted by freezing winds and a view of nothing but white snow. The woman swiveled her head from left to right, trying to get her bearings. She shielded her face from the biting snowstorm and decided to walk forward. It was the only thing she could do, though she prayed that someone was looking for her as she trudged through the snow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The air was so still and thick in his lungs, the night sky above flickering with tiny dots of stars was a small comfort for the group of townsfolk and soldiers. Solas was pacing restlessly about the edge of the camp staring in the direction of Haven. He could not sense the Herald’s presence, and he was growing more and more worried. His ears twitched when he overheard Cassandra speaking with Cullen. He walked over, being careful not to disturb the soldiers and Templars pitching tents for the villagers or the mages conjuring fires to stave off the bitter cold. He tugged his cloak around him tightly and approached Cassandra. 

“Still nothing?” He asked, doing his best not shiver. 

The Seeker shook her head. “The last search party has been unsuccessful, but the storm is getting worse. We must rest before we can venture out again.” 

“If we wait any longer, she will freeze to death.” Solas spat. Please stay safe, my friend . Those were her words to him before she rushed to defend Haven, and it made his chest hurt. Just like his friend, Mythal before she... No. Not this time . “I will go and look for her.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Solas! You’ll freeze out there before you find her!” Cullen shouted at the apostate, but Solas had already made up his mind. He collected his staff and turned towards the valley leading back to Haven. He drowned out the shouts of the humans and Varric. He cleared his mind of all distractions before opening his eyes and started trudging through the deep snow himself. Once he knew he was far enough away from the camp and could no longer hear the voices of the people, Solas quickly glanced around. In front of him there were billowing winds, blinding sleet and fields of snow as far as the eye could see. Even with his magic, traversing the land in this form was dangerous. Not to mention, he would never be able to find Amanatha using his eyes.  

Then he recalled something she had said while they were in the Hinterlands. Whenever I got lost in the Emerald Graves, the wolves were always the ones who guided me home . Rather than waste any more precious time, the elf closed his eyes once more, focusing on the form he had neglected for a long time and made a mental note to apologize to Amanatha for dismissing her question earlier at Haven. 

The snow blinding winds provided the perfect cover for him as he clutched the wolf jaw pendant around his neck, the teeth leaving faint pinpricks on his palm, as he finished casting his spell and it immediately took effect. Thick fur as dark as a starless night cascaded down his frame like a warm cloak sending a shiver down his spine. Bones snapped and reshaped to fit the form within his mind’s eye though it did leave him a little sore considering the length of time he had gone without even changing form. There was a crackling sound in his ears as they too, adjusted to the new form. Within minutes, all that remained of the elvhen mage was a large black wolf with a jawbone pendant around its neck shaking the snow from his body. Solas’ ears swiveled forward, and he opened his jowls, a howl leaving his throat as it struggled to climb above the roaring winds. Hold on, da’len . He thought as he sprinted through the snow drifts, focusing his hearing on anything that sounded like her voice. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha shivered violently when she stumbled over what appeared to be remnants of an old camp. The embers were cold but despite the winds, the elf woman was able to pick up faint traces of warmth from beneath the cold ashes. Someone was here but had long since moved on. She pressed onwards; her fingers buried deep under her arms to keep the chill away. Suddenly, she heard howling in the distance. It was not the icy winds biting at her face and body but a wolf’s howl. A locating howl. She stopped to listen, hoping it would sing again and give her a moment to find her path. She smiled weakly when the howl called out to her again. Perhaps she could make it easier for the animal or whoever was out here searching to find her by responding back. With shaking arms, Amanatha cupped her hands around her mouth and after a few shaky breaths, released a howl into the whiteout. 

A moment ticked by. Then another and the Dalish began to think that perhaps she was hallucinating from the blood loss and the freezing cold. The Dalish woman shivered again and hugged herself to try warming herself, but it was difficult. Her clothes were cold and wet from the snow and her wounded abdomen throbbed painfully. She swore the wound was still bleeding. She had walked maybe five feet when her ears heard another howl on the wind. It was crisp and clear almost like it was several feet away. Feeling hopeful, Amanatha mustered another howl before collapsing to her knees in the snowdrift, shivering violently then toppled over on her uninjured side, her eyes closing as exhaustion sapped away whatever energy she had left. 

“Solas....Falon... everyone, ir abelas.” She whispered as darkness clouded her vision and she fell unconscious. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

He carved a path as he bounded through the snowdrifts. The wolf skid to a halt, ears perked up as if something caught his attention. It sounded like someone howling. Solas swiveled his ears forward and caught the last bit of the call. It was feminine. Could it be? He shook the snow from his body turning his head as another gust of wind billowed in his face, blowing more snow in his eyes. Solas growled in annoyance but tilted his head back calling forth another howl. Amanatha, please answer ! He pleaded, his heart racing painfully in his chest as he scanned the area before him. Then he heard it again! This time on his right! A feminine howl, clearer this time! There ! He sprinted across the vast tundra until he nearly stumbled over her. He panted as he brought his head down and carefully rubbed his cheek against her face, brushing off the snow. Amanatha emitted a stuttering whimper when he pressed his nose against her neck. Her pulse was slow, and she was cold to the touch but still alive. 

“Amanatha...” He whispered softly but she hardly stirred. 

Carefully, he clamped his teeth along the scruff of her armor only to stop when he spotted the bandaged wound. Blood that had seeped through the bandages now froze to her skin. He had to act quickly. He readjusted his grip on her armor and managed to haul her on to his back. “Amanatha, if you can hear me, hold on tight.” He instructed. Solas felt her hands, though stiff from the cold, wrap around his neck. Once he was certain that she was stable, he started backtracking towards the camp at a brisk trot doing his best not to jar her wounds any further. Still, feeling her this close again had him sigh with relief. 

Chapter Text

The first thing she noticed upon waking up was that she was warm. Very much so. She let out a small groan as she felt something weighted and soft draped across her body followed by a pair of warm hands caressing her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open and though her vision was blurry, she could vaguely make out the faces greeting her as awoke. Mother Giselle was kneeling next to her smiling in relief. Solas sitting beside her, his hand radiating warmth as his fire magic fought off the cold. She tried to speak but his thumb caressed her cheek once more, silently encouraging her to just sleep. Amanatha, too tired to argue, obliged. Or at least tried to. Overlapping voices arguing were preventing her from even drifting off. She heard Solas emit an irritated growl in the direction of the voices. Amanatha opened one eye and lifted her head slightly to see Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana in front of a fire arguing. She glanced at Solas and the Chantry woman.  

“How long have they been going at it?” She asked hoarsely, accepting a water skin from Solas as she took a few tentative sips to soothe her parched throat.  

Solas snorted, shaking his head. “They have been like this since I carried you back to camp.”  

“You... carried me? You actually found me?”   

He nodded but he didn’t speak any further. The corner of his eye twitched again when the advisors at the fire continued to argue. If Amanatha didn't know any better, she would have thought the man wanted to freeze her advisors just for being noisy as though it were a waste of time. Her thoughts, however, were interrupted when Mother Giselle began to speak to her.

“They have this luxury to argue thanks to you; Herald and the enemy could not follow.” Mother Giselle whispered as she helped the elf sit up, her eyes softening sympathetically when she clutched her stomach. “The apostate mended the wound as best he could.”  

Solas patted her shoulder gently before taking his leave, needing to find some quiet having had enough of hearing the squabbles of the humans. Amanatha slowly scanned the camp, sighing softly. From the looks of things, most of Haven survived but their faces belayed their relief. They had lost their homes and loved ones. They had seen her, their Herald of Andraste, face a terrible foe, fight and fall. However, as Giselle continued speaking with her, the Chantry Mother added that they had also seen the Herald return . “The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear.” Giselle added looking up at the gaps in the tent to stare at the stars above. “That is hard to accept, no? And I believe the words you spoke were true as well.”  

“What do you mean?”  

Mother Giselle smiled once more. “Corypheus claims to have seen the Golden Throne and said it was empty, but you told a truth I have only read in the scriptures. Corypheus was not and never will be worthy to see what lays beyond the throne of the Maker. All the more reason to believe Andraste would choose someone like you to rise against the threat.”  

“I tried and failed.”  

Mother Giselle rested her hand on the elf’s shoulder. “No. You saved many. True we may have lost some of our friends and family, but we could have lost more.”  

Amanatha rose to her feet, staggering slightly before she glanced at the Chantry Mother. “Then why do I feel like I still failed?”  

The Dalish woman limped over towards her advisors. Josephine and Leliana were sitting beside the fire and Cassandra was examining a map or documents. Amanatha wasn’t sure. Cullen was pacing about, running his hand through his hair when he spotted the Dalish woman up and about. They all looked tired and Amanatha could not really blame them. They had to watch their base get wiped out by an avalanche along with watching their soldiers get obliterated. She turned her head where she spotted Sera fixing the fletching on her arrows and Varric laying on a bedroll resting his head. Blackwall was helping Vivienne carry healing poultices to the injured and the strange hulking qunari from earlier was tending to his men. Dorian and the strange boy Cole were sitting beside the late Chancellor Rodrick who had finally succumbed to his wounds. Everyone just looked so exhausted and defeated that it made the Dalish woman’s heart sink. Then a voice began to sing.  

Shadows fall 
And hope has fled 
Steel your heart 
The dawn will come 
 
The night is long 
And the path is dark 
Look to the sky 
For one day soon 
The dawn will come 

Amanatha whipped her head around as she spotted Mother Giselle slowly walking up beside her as she sang her song, a small hopeful smile on her face. Josephine and the others lifted their heads towards the Chantry Mother and Leliana closed her eyes. Soon her voice joined in with Mother Giselle’s along with some of the soldiers.  

The shepherd's lost 
And his home is far 
Keep to the stars 
The dawn will come 
 
The night is long 
And the path is dark 
Look to the sky 
For one day soon 
The dawn will come  

More and more voices rose above the camp, a symphony of sound. Amanatha became slightly uneasy when the villagers and soldiers calmly approached her, stilling singing the hymn and they bowed to their knees before the elvhen woman. She was taken aback by the sudden reverence and she turned her head towards Mother Giselle who continued to smile and sing. Solas was drawn to the chorus whose hymn rose higher and higher above the flailing winds and biting cold then he drew his gaze towards the center where he saw nearly everyone kneel before the elvhen woman, showing her more respect than he had thought possible for an elf.  

Bare your blade 
And raise it high 
Stand your ground 
The dawn will come 
 
The night is long 
And the path is dark 
Look to the sky 
For one day soon 
The dawn will come 

Finishing the final verses, his gaze met hers and though he had not intended it this way, his face could not mask the evident shock within his eyes. He felt himself well up with pride for it had been centuries since anyone raised one of his own. He allowed a small smile of his own form across his lips. When the singing died off, the dread that once laid siege on the camp had been replaced with hope and mirth. Solas walked over to her and gently tapped her shoulder. “If I can borrow a moment of your time.”   

He walked off, hearing her footsteps behind him as an assurance that she was following. As they approached the privacy on the edge of the cliff, he was guiding her to, he set up a torch then raised a hand, his power pulsing around his fingertips allowing him to set the torch alight with flickering bluish green flames of veilfire. He reached out for her when she stumbled slightly. He had to remind himself that she was still wounded and recovering but she didn’t seem to let it bother her. Once she steadied herself by standing beside him, he turned his head to face her.  She was obviously tired, but her eyes were alert as she glanced back up at him. He began to speak, his voice calm and even.  

“The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. That faith is hard won, Lethallin, worthy of pride... Save for one small detail.”  

“Solas... Corypheus... he was carrying an elvhen artifact. An orb of some kind.” Amanatha said softly, keeping her voice a whisper. “That is the threat he carries...”  

“I know...” Solas responded just as quietly. “I surmise Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived... and we must prepare for the people’s reaction when they learn the orb is of our people.”  

Amanatha furrowed her brows inquisitively. She wanted to ask him how he knew what it was, but the apostate seemed to anticipate her question and spoke once more. He explained that during the ancient times, such artifacts were foci used by the Elvhen Gods to channel their magic or store it, but such knowledge had been lost for ages. “But how did he come across such a relic?” She pressed him. “Weren’t such foci locked by the ones who made them?”  

Solas shuffled his feet subtly and held his hands behind his back. “However Corypheus came by the orb, it is Elvhen and with it, he threatens the heart of human faith.”  

Amanatha noted the slight flinch in the apostate’s stature as he shifted on his feet then deliberately placed his hands behind him. She had seen her father use a similar stature when he was hiding something or did not wish to speak about her mother when she left him. He’s hiding something . She thought before closing her eyes. “Even when we defeat that bag of bones, humans will still find a way to put the blame on elves... they always do.”  

He brushed his knuckle against her cheek, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. He meant for it to be a comforting gesture and was rewarded with a slight blush on her cheeks.   

~~~~~~~~  

The next morning, the winds were calm and the weather fair. Amanatha was mounted on Thestral who was hitched to a wagon hauling some of the wounded with Solas and Mother Giselle tending to them. The others also had mounts hitched to wagons carrying the elderly and young children. She scanned the terrain and inhaled the crisp mountain air. By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus had changed it. Changed her. She had spoken with Solas and after cross-referencing over Cassandra and Cullen’s maps decided to head north. A few hours had gone by and Amanatha had the caravan stop to rest the animals and the weary travelers. Solas was helping the Dalish with watering Thestral when he noticed her sit upon a large boulder trying to bandage her wound.   

“Is your wound bothering you again?”  

Amanatha huffed as the wrappings fell and she reached for some fresh cloth. “I have dealt with worse wounds, Falon .” She winced while trying to wrap the wound and failed then heard him sigh softly and before she knew it, he was standing before her.  

“Allow me to assist.” He said as he knelt down beside her then muttered as she lifted her arm so he could bind the wound again. “Stubborn woman.”  

“Says the raven to the crow.”  

“A fair point.” Solas chuckled as he tied the bandage but not before he spotted a jagged scar on her stomach. He narrowed his eyes at the scar for a moment then finished the binding.   

“Skyhold.”  

“Hmm?” The mage lifted his head to the sound of her voice.  

“That is where we are heading, yes? Although, Tarasyl'an Te'las was what it was originally called right?” She asked, lowering her arm and he sat down beside her on the rock.   

“Correct on both accounts. It has changed many hands since but how do you know about it?”  

Amanatha smiled a little. “My father often spoke of it, but he said not many know about its location nowadays only that those who have sought it never returned and that it waits for a worthy soul to occupy it.”  

“Hmmm an interesting notion.” Solas hummed as he turned to glance at the caravan behind them as though making sure no one was eavesdropping. “In truth, Skyhold was once often visited by the ancient elves during the peak of our civilization but after their disappearance, the original hold that once adorned the mountain was leveled by the early Fereldans to create the fortress. If I recall, the humans repurposed the enchanted stones to build the fortress.”  

Amanatha grumbled and shook her head. “Humans really hate elves it would seem...”  

He patted her head in sympathy.   

After another hour they were back on the trail. After five days of traveling, they arrived at an abandoned mountain trail. Solas smiled as he sat beside the Dalish woman in the driver’s seat and nodded when she glanced at him for confirmation. Just two more days and they would arrive at their destination. The Inquisition set up camp for the night and whilst gathered around one of the fires, Amanatha got to learn about the strange qunari who had aided in evacuating the rest of the villagers. He was called The Iron Bull but went by Bull more often than not. He was sent by his home country to investigate the Breach and the Inquisition as a spy or Ben’hassrath in his tongue but the qunari decided to do something better: he offered his company of mercenaries known as the Bull’s Chargers and himself to aid in the Inquisition. Amanatha wasn’t sure how she felt about Bull sending reports about her, but she was in no position to deny help. They were a day out from their destination and currently Solas was napping in the bed of a wagon free of occupants as the injured were transferred to a larger wagon with Amanatha driving Thestral who was happy to have a break hauling so many people. Solas had been up all night on watch-duty and needed some rest.  

Several hours passed and his eyes fluttered open to the sight of puffy white clouds dancing overhead then his ears twitched to the sound of a merry little tune being sung. He lifted his head and pushed himself into a sitting position as quietly as possible and found himself smirking. Amanatha seemed to be singing, unaware that he had awoken to it. They were still ahead leading the caravan but were far enough ahead that no one else could hear her. He remained quiet as he listened to her voice, finding it soothing to his ears.  

Let's walk together, following our hearts 
Let's mark the time together 
Our andante 
 
I ran fast on purpose 
To give you hard time 
You would laugh 
And bounce like a staccato 
 
Even the contrails seem suggestive 
Inviting us to the dazzling sky 
 
In our ordinary days 
The gently tickling melody 
You always want to hear it, right? 
 
Step by Step, even if our strides differ, it's okay 
I'll take you anywhere in the world 
It's my way, let's enjoy even the whimsical 
Because I want to see that rainbow with you soon 
 
Suddenly, if we turn around 
And our eyes meet 
Feelings overflow, 
Crescendoing into dreams 
 
Even the innocent wind becomes our ally 
Opening unknown doors for us 
 
A premonition that something will happen 
Let's jump in more freely 
And dance! 
 
Step by Step, feel your rhythm 
Take a deep breath, let's inflate our expectations 
Don't worry, if a passing shower comes 
Surely, new scenery awaits 
 
Ah, what can you see 
In the telescope held up to your heart? 
Beyond the future we envision 
Walking, singing, towards tomorrow 
 
Be with you, even in this never-ending journey 
It's okay, you can step forward slowly 
 
Step by Step, even if our strides differ, it's okay 
I'll take you anywhere in the world 
It's my way, let's enjoy even the whimsical 
Because I want to see that rainbow with you soon 
 
Our dreams will continue on forever 

Upon the last note, Solas started chuckling, which soon morphed into a full-on laugh when he saw the woman’s pointed ears turn a crimson red. From her expression, she was not expecting him to hear her. “You sing rather beautifully.” He complimented only to see her duck her head down shyly. “Did I say something that offended you?”  

“N-no!” She stammered quickly as he climbed over to sit beside her. “It’s just... I didn’t expect you to be awake. My father and I often hummed that when I was a child.”  

Solas frowned. In all their conversations, Amanatha spoke highly of her father, but never once had she spoken about her mother. He wanted to ask her but for some reason he could not find the courage to ask her. Instead, he busied himself with observing their surroundings before motioning towards a narrow valley. Amanatha held up a hand, instructing the rest of the caravan to hold back. She and the apostate disembarked from the wagon, hiking through the narrow crevice and Solas smiled as he spotted their destination. He gestured with his staff and Amanatha peeked around the mage. “By the spirits of my ancestors...” She gasped and a great big smile graced her face. In the distance, there was a massive castle-like fortress that was standing proudly on the mountaintop. Even at this distance, the Dalish woman could feel the ancient magic radiating from the stones of the fortress and from her lips, its name sprang forth. “Skyhold.”  

~~~~~~~~~  

The caravan arrived at the castle the next morning and was already bustling. Inquisition soldiers and villagers were still carrying in supplies. Dennet was tending to the mounts, including Thestral at the stables with Blackwall assisting him. Vivienne, Dorian and Josephine were busy ordering new furniture and drapery for the fortress. The Iron Bull, his chargers and Sera were busy repairing some of the dilapidated buildings. Amanatha spotted Leliana and her spies moving cages of ravens up a tower that would serve as the new rookery. Fiona and her mages were busy carrying books and tomes while following the spymaster to the level below the rookery where they started shelving their parcels. Solas had claimed the rotunda near the entrance and let out a grunt as he set down crates of his own supplies. He rubbed his brow as he hummed thoughtfully as he studied his new dwellings. The blank walls around were just blank canvases begging him to paint it. In time . He thought to himself. Outside, Cullen and the other soldiers were carrying the rest of the wounded with the help of the strange boy, Cole.  

Hours passed and soon it was nearly sunset by the time most of the wagons were unloaded. Amanatha and Cassandra were finishing up their patrol around the hold, conversing amongst themselves, mainly about the anchor on the elvhen woman’s hand. Corypheus wanted it, but it now that it was useless to him, he merely wanted the woman dead. Despite what had transpired, Cassandra remained optimistic reminding Amanatha of all they accomplished so far.  

“Your decisions let us heal the sky.” Cassandra said as she walked alongside Amanatha while they explored the grounds. “Your determination brought us out of Haven. By the Maker, we could have lost more than the few we did thanks to your efforts.”  

Amanatha spared a brief glance towards the Seeker. “I didn’t really do much. Besides, Corypheus still got away.”  

“True, but you are the creature’s rival because of what you did. We know it. We all do.”  

“Cassandra, speak plainly.” Amanatha sighed exasperated. “I’m nothing special. Just someone trying to do right.”  

Cassandra smiled as they strolled up the stairs leading into the main building where Leliana was waiting for them with what looked to be a decorated blade in her hands. The hilt of the blade was in the shape of a golden dragon, its tail forming the grip while its wings outstretched forming the cross-guard and its head rested in place of the ricasso. Cassandra turned towards the elvhen woman. “The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has already been leading it. You.”  

Amanatha stared at the blade then spotted a crowd forming at the base of the stairs. Among the crowd, Cullen and Josephine stood in the back, their gazes locked firmly on the Dalish woman. Amanatha swallowed slightly and turned her head back to the Seeker. “You’re offering this to an elf?” She reminded the human. “Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing, Cassandra?”  

“If it were anyone else, I would be terrified handing this power to anyone, but I have seen how you rose to the position though you never asked for it.” Cassandra admitted but then grinned once more. “I have no doubt that they will follow you. To them, being an elf shows how far you yourself have risen, how it must have been by Andraste’s hand. What it means to you, how you lead us, is for you to decide.”  

Amanatha rested her hand along the blade’s cold steel then dragged her fingers towards the hilt. Curling around the grip, she raised the sword up and stared at her reflection within the blade. Corypheus would never allow her to have peace. He made that clear to her in Haven but what he had not counted on was her determination. The creature aspired for godhood. To rule over the inhabitants of the world under an iron fist. She was not about to let that happen. She would not let anyone, be they elf or not, suffer under a tyrant’s rule. The Dalish turned towards the crowd as they raised their fists and own swords in the air, cheering with a determination that rivaled her own. She raised the blade in her hand into the air as well, her eyes faintly glowing with a renewed light as she was gifted a new title: Inquisitor.  

Chapter Text

Amanatha seemed to slip into the role of Inquisitor quite well in Solas’ opinion. She carried herself with grace and dignity. She handled dignitaries with the aid of Josephine and was the talk of the hold. However, there were a few things that the elvhen mage noticed over the past couple of months that seemed to bother her despite hiding her emotions. With her newfound responsibilities, she was more confided in the castle, having to deal with dignitaries and she hardly had any time to visit him. True, she often explored the grounds, checking up on everyone yet no one ever bothered to make sure she was alright. Currently, he was outside with Vivienne and Cassandra who were gawking at the strange spirit known as Cole. Cole had been sitting quietly at the base of the stairs leading towards the gate, picking at the blades grass in curiosity.

“This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet.” The Grand Enchanter huffed indignantly. “It has no business being here.”

“Wouldn’t you say the same of apostate?” Countered Solas as he folded his arms over his chest then spotted Amanatha walking towards them with Thestral trotting behind her.

Cassandra seemed to have noticed the Dalish Elf as well, for she turned towards the woman. Amanatha seemed more focused on Cole. She tilted her head towards the Seeker as she informed her of the situation. She had asked for Solas and Vivienne to give their opinions upon the young entity on whether or not he was a mage. Amanatha turned towards Solas, absentmindedly petting her dracolisk’s snout when the animal plopped his chin on her shoulder. “What do we know about him?”

“He can cause people to forget him or fail entirely to notice him.” The apostate informed her and Amanatha hummed curiously.

Vivienne frowned at both of them. “It,” emphasized the woman, “is a demon.”

“Cole also warned us about Corypheus and saved many lives.” Amanatha reminded the Grand Enchanter then held her hand up to continue speaking. “I am more than aware of the pros and cons of having him around however,” She turned her gaze down at Cole who briefly turned his head towards the camp where the rest of the injured lay. “I do not sense malice or hatred within him.”

“Speak plainly please.” Cassandra sighed, not quite understanding what the Inquisitor was saying.

Amanatha closed her eyes but thankfully, Solas spoke first. “Demons enter this world by possessing something or someone and when they reveal themselves in their true form, they appear monstrous.”

“Does that mean Cole is possessed?” Cassandra asked in alarm gripping the hilt of her blade and Amanatha shook her head.

“No. He’s very unique. Spirits adapt their forms to those who see them, but Cole is different in every aspect. He chose this form so by all accounts he is a young man.” Amanatha explained watching the boy wander towards the camp. “A spirit of compassion such as him is exceedingly rare.”

Solas glanced at her in surprise. Again, just how much did she know that she was hiding? When Cassandra and Vivenne attempted to argue, Amanatha merely ignored them and pointed to the spirit as he knelt down beside some of the wounded. Specifically, the gravely injured and dying. Solas watched as Cassandra began drawing her sword only for the Inquisitor to grip the Seeker’s wrist and shake her head. Cole seemed to be muttering something. “What is it doing?” Vivienne frowned and Amanatha smiled before turning her head to the woman.

“He’s feeling their pain. He senses the hurt in people, be it physical or emotional.” Amanatha made an educated guess. “Spirits of Compassion tend to mend the hurt, such as making passing easier on the dying as an example or unraveling the emotional pain someone is feeling.”

Deciding to leave the spirit to his work, Amanatha walked off towards the stables ignoring the stares from Cassandra and Vivienne silently confirming that Cole would be staying with the Inquisition. Despite the artifacts still needing to be examined in the rotunda, Solas found himself trailing after the Dalish Inquisitor, brushing past Blackwall who was chopping wood near the stables. He reached out and gripped her shoulder causing her to whip around in confusion, but she relaxed realizing that it was Solas. “Is something the matter, Solas?”

“Are you faring well?” Asked the apostate with concern. “I noticed that your duties have been rather taxing on.”

Amanatha shrugged. “I’ll manage. I usually do. Thank you for asking. How goes decrypting those strange tablets we found in the Hinterlands?”

Solas sighed with an amused chuckle as they returned to the rotunda and he brought forth a large stack of papers, each page describing the detail of each tablet. Amanatha lifted one of the small tablets and traced her hand along the surface. The tablet itself was chalky white with a pale blue skull etched in the center. When her left hand brushed against the skull, it would light up with a mysterious light. Solas explained that the tablets had a strange magic about them. Ancient really and even more odd Elvhen. He also seemed relatively certain that the tablets were actually keys to something though what that something was had him scratching his head. Still, they were indeed a fascinating, albeit creepy, discovery. The apostate was in the process of sifting through some maps when an Inquisition scout bolted into the room, causing the two elves to be pulled away from the research.

“Report for you, Lady Inquisitor!” The young man panted as he hunched over, hands on his knees as though he had been sprinting for quite some time.

“What is it?” Amanatha questioned the scout as he held up a missive.

He took a breath then exhaled as he spoke urgently. “Inquisition soldiers have gone missing in the marshy reaches of southern Ferelden. Scout Harding has requested your aid in the matter.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh! The Veil smells like arse here.” Sera grumbled as she hopped out of the wagon then crinkled her nose at the mud nearly coming up to the ankle of her boots. “So wet and squishy... hahaha! Right, I feel better, yeah... a little. Not really.”

Blackwall was next, shaking the rain out of his face. “Well, this is all very pleasant.” He huffed sarcastically.

Amanatha descended from Thestral’s back along with Solas as the two tugged the hoods of their cloaks over their heads. The Dalish scanned the mire before them. From what little information she was given about Fallow Mire, the bog was largely uncharted. Wherever the soldiers were now was going to be a challenge in finding them. Amanatha turned to gather her satchel from her saddle bag when Solas let out a surprise growl. When she turned around, she saw that the apostate was met with a mudball to the face followed by Sera laughing like a maniac. Even Blackwall was struggling not to snicker. Solas cursed vividly as he wiped the mud from his face, spitting flecks of dirt and he glared at the young city elf.

“Was that really necessary, Sera?” He asked as he accepted a handkerchief from the Inquisitor.

“Wat? It was funny, yeah?”

Solas exhaled sharply as he cleaned himself up. “Matter of debate...”

Amanatha patted his shoulder as they proceeded forward until they found Harding and her camp. The dwarf beckoned the Inquisitor over to the safety and dryness of one of the large tents. According to the dwarven scout, the missing soldiers were being held hostage by a tribe of Avvar. The Avvar or ‘hillsmen’ as they were also known as were actually a large entity that shared the same beliefs and culture but similar to the Dalish tribes each had their own tribes and operated differently. This one in particular lived in the bog and were being led by chief that apparently had an itching to fight Amanatha as the Herald of Andraste.

“Seems like a lil’ prick needs to be taught manners, yeah?” Sera stated as she cleaned her nails with her dagger.

Harding went on to explain that the Avvar were the least of their worries. Not only would Amanatha have to fight the chief’s warriors, but she also had to deal with hordes of undead that would rise from the depths of the bogs should their watery graves be disturbed. The Dalish just shook her head at the information. Fighting warriors was one thing but dealing with the undead was another. However, as Harding had stated the lost souls lingered beneath the waters, a simple barrier of ice on the surface would suffice should they have to traverse the waters. With their information in their possession, Amanatha pressed on.

They came across what appeared to be an abandoned building but after one sniff of the air, Amanatha covered her nose and mouth with her scarf around her neck. It reeked of death and plague. She cautiously peeked through a window and coughed backing away from the building hastily, motioning for the others to do the same. “Plague.”

“It must have been a terrible illness. No one has even returned to claim the land.” Solas noted as he, too, covered his mouth and nose. “No one living, anyway.”

Deciding to press on, Amanatha and her companions continued along the path. The rain poured and thunder raced overhead as they came across what looked to be a raised dock. In the distance, the Dalish spotted an isle with a strange pillar in the center. She was just about to take a step forward when she spotted the water beneath the dock. She looked ahead and noticed the path on the other side of the water. Sera and Blackwall cringed at a body floating right under them. Solas felt rather uneasy at the predicament but before he could offer a suggestion, Amanatha took a running leap and landed safely on the small isle. Sera mimicked the Dalish woman’s movements and landed beside her with a smirk. Solas was next. He managed to make it but had to use his staff to maintain a foothold. Finally, it was Blackwall’s turn. However, the Grey Warden was not nearly as graceful for when he stuck the landing, the three elves had to pull him forward with his armor so he wouldn’t fall into the murky waters below.

“So, how’s it end?” Blackwall suddenly asked Sera while Amanatha and Solas studied the pillar before them.

Sera tilted her head, rainwater dripping off her hood. “What? The tavern tale?”

“Come on! You left off elbow deep in...” He glanced at the two elves behind them before returning his attention back to the city elf, “circumstances. That can’t be it!”

“Well, that wasn’t her name, but yeah, that’s as far as the story ever gets.” Sera giggled mischievously. “Why you complaining?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about it!” Complained the Warden with a cheeky grin of his own. “I need to know how it ends!”

Sera laughed harder this time. “Why would you want to stop? The whole of the good bit is thinking about the good bit! If I tell the end, it ends.”

While the two misfits continued to banter, Amanatha held up a handful of veilfire towards an empty sconce fitted to the pillar and lit it. No sooner had she done that, everyone heard the sloshing of water followed by a flood of garbled moans and the shriek of a terror demon. There was quite the alarming amount of undead but luck seemed to be on the Inquisition’s side for when they monsters had Amanatha and her companions surrounded, lightning from the storm above struck the pillar, causing the energy to branch out and strike the waterlogged corpses leaving only charred remains that were whisked away with the wind.

“Fascinating.” Said the apostate as he moved away from the pillar to study the rune that suddenly made itself known on the stone. “It appears the veilfire on these pillars serve as a lure for the undead and demons.”

“And I don’t sense anymore undead in this area at all.”

“Perhaps we should find more of these beacons and use them to lure the bastards on to higher ground.” Blackwall suggested. “Might make the fights easier.”

And they did indeed find more of the beacons. A total of five and from what Amanatha could deduce, they now had a clear path through the bog without having to worry about the undead or demons. They found what looked to be a stone hedge of sorts in front of a cave and decided to make camp for the night. They were drenched, freezing and hungry from the several hours of trudging through damnable bog. Amanatha found some kindling in the back of the cave, possibly from the missing scouts before they were captured and got a fire going. She removed her cloak and hung it near the fire to dry along with her companions’.

“We will want to launder our clothes later.” Solas shivered as he huddled close to the fire then added in a semi-joking manner. “Or burn them”

“I smell the damp.” Sera whined and shivered as well. “Just... in everything. Ugh!”

Blackwall sneezed suddenly, looking rather miserable as he held his hands up to the fire, reveling in the warmth. The storm outside raged as Amanatha tended to her companions. She had a pot of water stewing over the flames and was rummaging through her bag when she pulled out provisions for everyone. She handed each of them some dried meats and fruit before removing the hot kettle from the fire. She set out four cups and poured the steaming water into each of them. Once done, she poured in a mixture of what looked to be powdered dirty and stirred it evenly into each cup. She handed Blackwall his cup first, the Warden relishing the heat from the cup. Next came Sera who took one sniff of the contents, and her eyes grew to the size of saucers as she took an eager sip, ignoring the scalding heat. Amanatha sunk to the ground beside Solas and offered him his share. Curious, the apostate stared at the earth-colored water and caught a bittersweet scent. He saw the Inquisitor drink from her mug and decided to do the same. He was expecting the taste of tea but to his surprise, he tasted chocolate. He let out a quite hum as the hot chocolate warmed his body.

“First time having hot chocolate?”

He nodded as he took another sip.

“Is it to your liking?”

Solas nodded again.

Amanatha smiled proudly as they enjoyed their warm drink. They would rest here for the night then continue on in the morning. Despite the misery from earlier, everyone seemed to be feeling much better after drinking the concoction she had brewed. After a few hours, both Blackwall and Sera had fallen asleep, leaving Amanatha and Solas to watch over the camp. It was blissfully quiet save for the rain and thunder outside the cave and the crackling fire had thoroughly warmed the freezing elves. “I wanted to apologize.” Solas said suddenly earning a perplexed look from the Inquisitor. “In Haven, you had asked if I was a shapeshifter and I had refused to answer your question.”

“You did.” Amanatha chuckled and shook her head. “No need to apologize, Solas. You can answer when you feel ready to. In the meantime, you can make it up to me by telling me any interesting tales of your journeys in the Fade.”

Solas stared at her in surprise. He had expected her to leap at the chance for him to confirm her assumption but instead she was willing to wait until he was comfortable. How rare. He tapped his chin in thought as he thought about her current request then a hum left his throat. “The Alamarri crossed the Frostback Mountains to escape a beast they called the Shadow Goddess in their stories. I met the spirit that they fled. She walks the Fade along the southern tundra, weeping, lonely and forgotten. The irony is great Ferelden formed because a lonely spirit drove her prey away.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Amanatha and her crew soon came across a tall Avvar the next morning. To their surprise, but mostly relief, this Avvar, known as Skywatcher, had no interest in fighting the Herald. He also informed the group that it was actually the chief’s son who wanted to fight the Dalish woman. The Avvar added that the Inquisition’s soldiers that were captured by the chief’s son were still alive and were being held captive in a castle on the far side of the bog. Amanatha had to admit, she was relieved not having to fight Skywatcher for he certainly looked like a difficult warrior to defeat. He even assisted the group in fending off a rift that suddenly opened before them. The Avvar allowed them to depart peacefully, but not before warning Amanatha that the castle was guarded by a legion of undead and they would need to finish them off before entering the castle. However, when they did arrive at what appeared to be a massive drawbridge to the building, there was more than a legion of soldiers. There was in fact much more than that and they were blocking the path.

“There is no way we can fight that many!” Blackwall exclaimed as thunder crashed overhead.

Solas and Sera were inclined to agree.

Amanatha, on the other hand, could not see another way but forward. There was deep water on either side of the bridge and even if they swam, she could not see a shore for them to climb on to reach the castle’s interior. She could use that spell, but she wouldn’t be able to use magic for the remainder of the mission as it was not meant to be used while in this form. The Dalish woman shook her head, steeling herself and barked at her companions. “Solas! Conjure a barrier around you, Blackwall and Sera! Blackwall, shield up!”

She didn’t even bother listening to her companions. Her focus was on the horde lumbering towards them. With her back to the group, lightning began crackling around her feet then it started spiraling around her body condensing near her outstretched hands. Her eyes felt like they were burning as they glowed brightly, and fire started forming in the center of the lightning ball. She let out a roar that was drowned out by another clap of thunder and she unleashed her magic, watching as it barreled into the horde until it was in the center. There was another bright flash as the orb of magic exploded, erasing the horde entirely.

Solas and the others felt their jaws drop at the display of power. They knew Amanatha was a mage, but seeing such a powerful demonstration left their minds reeling. Mainly Solas. He had never seen any mage with much raw power since the golden years of Arlathan. It both intrigued him and baffled him. He dropped the barrier he had created around him and the others then jogged over to the Inquisitor who panted from her exertion. “I may... huff... have overcharge... the spell.” She huffed as she placed a hand over her chest.

“That was reckless, Inquisitor.” Scolded the mage as the woman steadied herself.

“I am aware of how reckless it was, but I didn’t really see another way.” She grumbled as they jogged further in to the keep.

They did not have time to argue as they were stopped by another hulking figure in similar attire to Skywatcher. From the way he carried himself, this had to be the bastard who wanted to fight Amanatha. She glanced at the apostate who furrowed his brow in response. Fight first, scold later. Blackwall was the first to leap into the battle, his shield rising up to deflect the Avvar leader’s downward slash. The Warden slammed his shield into the man’s face stunning him before ducking, allowing Sera to throw a few daggers into the enemy’s hands forcing him to drop his weapon. The Avvar warrior snarled as he reached for his discarded weapon but was instead forced to retreat when Solas placed a rune of fire beneath it, daring the warrior to try and recover his battleaxe. Unfortunately, even though he was unarmed, the bastard still would not surrender and was swiftly defeated by the group though he perished from his wounds shortly after. The Inquisition managed to free the captured scouts and were relieved to find that they were not seriously injured. Amanatha even recruited Skywatcher who had followed them to the castle offering his services. Now they could leave the infernal swamp and return to Skyhold for a much needed bath and proper meal.

And for Solas, some much needed answers.

Chapter Text

“ Fenedhis , that woman is a bloody menace.” Solas grumbled as he finished cleaning his desk free of a strange sticky sap. “And of course, the Inquisitor would be pulled away by Cassandra upon returning to the hold...” 

It had been nearly two and a half weeks since the expedition in the Fallow Mire and Sera had pranked him once again. With the Inquisitor away on business dealing with a lead regarding the Lord Seeker Lucius, the city elf had decided to once again indulge in her favorite pastime of messing with Solas. This time, she recruited the Tevinter mage Dorian and the two managed to replace his ink with a strange spindleweed concoction while he was gathering some food for lunch. This latest prank caused his quill to stick in the inkwell and when he tried to use magic to thaw the ink, he was instead met with an explosion from the small bottle causing the liquid to spill all over his workspace. Thankfully, he managed to save his progress with some quick reflexes and had snatched the parchment before they could be ruined. He took a deep breath, willing himself to relax though after glancing at his desk he quickly realized that he would not be able to continue his research. The apostate wandered over to a large leather rack containing his portfolio of sketches and removed a rough sketch he had drawn while in Haven in his free time, gave it a once-over then set it back down and collected some paints Josephine had procured for him.  

The elf climbed up onto a scaffolding where he began conjuring his masterpiece. Solas rolled up his sleeves then collected his palette and brandished his paintbrush. The only sound he heard was the gentle scraping of the brush against stone along with the distinct humming from his throat. He was unsure how long he had been painting but a familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Solas?” 

He blinked, glancing at the artwork before he walked over towards the ladder where he spotted Amanatha looking around the room. He set his palette and paint brush down then descended from the scaffolding. “Hello, Inquisitor.” He greeted her pleasantly. “You returned to Skyhold much sooner than expected.” 

“The lead for Lucius turned out to be a dead end.” Amanatha sighed shaking her head. “I had some free time and realized I had yet to visit with you since the return to Skyhold.” 

Solas nodded his head in understanding. “I see. Am I right to assume that you are here for business or pleasure?” 

“Well, a bit of both really. I know we’ve discussed a little on the topic on the way to Skyhold, however since you have given me good counsel before, I thought you might know more on Corypheus.” 

Solas narrowed his eyes at first but soon softened his gaze. Even before their arrival to their new sanctuary, the young woman had often sought his guidance and wisdom. He brought a hand to his chin, a thoughtful expression on his stoic face. However, the voices he heard from the library upstairs reminded him that they were not alone. Seeming to catch on with his thoughts, the Inquisitor suggested they take their conversation to her quarters. Once they were within the confines of her room, the Inquisitor turned towards her door and placed her right palm upon the mahogany surface, a rune of magic sticking to door preventing unauthorized entry. If someone, such as Josephine or even Sera were to try to open the door, they would be met with an inscription that read: Do Not Disturb . 

“Alright, that should give us some privacy.” The Dalish woman hummed thoughtfully then turned and beckoned the apostate to follow her up the stairs. 

This was the first time he had been invited to her room and, in all honesty, he was left speechless at what he saw. The room brought back memories he had long since forgotten. Her room reminded him of the golden age of Elvhen culture in a sense as though there were subtle hints of Dalish mixed into the decor. The room itself was large with a bed pressed against the wall. It had four posts made up of shed halla antlers expertly woven with a canopy draping pleasant olive-green curtains around the bed. The blankets were a dark, earthy brown of the finest linen cloth from Orelais with a pale gray velveteen comforter donning elegant embroideries depicting halla and wolves along the borders. There was a door in-between the bed and dresser leading up to a small loft where a wall of books stood along with a small nightstand and a nest of pillows. Probably a little hiding spot for the woman. Right next to the dresser was a large dark blue privacy screen that was wrapped around a luxurious copper bathtub with rose gold leaves and vines acting as the feet and amber flowers under the lip of the tub adding a delicate flair. 

Across from the bed by a few feet with a couch from Fereldan was a massive fireplace with an impressive iron gate. Tucked near the balcony entrance was a decorated dark Cherrywood desk with a small pile of letters on it. Solas focused his attention on the faint gold archways around the windows and the gilded stain-glassed doors leading to the balcony. The doors themselves were interesting. The one on the left depicted a silver gryphon with blue eyes sitting peacefully in a forest of green and the other was a dragon with sapphire blue scales mirroring the gryphon. He even spotted an elegant tea table overlooking the vast mountains cradling Skyhold. “So, in regard to my questions?” Amanatha began as she leaned against her bedpost and crossed her arms over her chest. “When I mentioned that the orb Corypheus carried was Elvhen, you said that you already knew however you refused to explain how he came upon on it or how he came to unlocking said foci.” 

“I did.” Solas nodded, feeling his muscles tense slightly. 

Amanatha strolled over to him and her eyes bore through his as though searching for the truth. “I would like for you to answer honestly, Solas.” She said sternly, “What do you know about the artifact he wields and how did he unlock it? Because frankly, what I experienced during that battle with him was not normal. A Tevinter mage, even as ancient as he was, shouldn't even have the ability to wield such magic nor have the power to control an archdemon.” 

“As I stated before on our travels to Skyhold, such relics were vessels to hold one's power, usually as a precaution should one become weak for whatever reason. In truth, the orb was something I had been looking for during my earliest explorations in the Fade. My friends mentioned its location during my journeys and that is one of the reasons I was in Haven.” Solas explained. Not entirely a lie , he thought to himself. “As for how Corypheus came to unlocking it, I am not entirely sure myself and as you said most foci could not be opened so easily. Still, I never would have believed a Tevinter mage could have unlocked such a powerful relic...” 

Amanatha stared at the mage intently before her blue-green eyes closed and she exhaled softly. “Alright then, what do you think old Corypheus will do next?” 

Solas shook his head. “You shamed him when you destroyed Haven. It spoiled his glorious victory, and it would be worse for him to acknowledge that you had done so. He must continue on his course or show weakness. He will more than certainly return to his plans of throwing Orelais into chaos and then conquer it for Tevinter.” 

“You sound almost certain.” 

“You are assuming that I can plausibly predict a man who seeks to rise to godhood.” 

Amanatha batted her eyes playfully. “And can you?” 

Solas stifled a chuckle of his own. “The key is understanding this, da’len : No real god need prove himself. Anyone who tries is either mad or lying. His deception will undo him... as it has done countless fools before.” Amanatha noticed his pause and her gaze softened slightly. His words rung true and she recalled her father having said the same thing about the Elvhen gods. “Before we continue our conversation, may I please see your mark?” 

It was instinctive when she clenched her left hand into a fist. She could still remember the sharp pain from when Corypheus tried to forcibly remove the anchor and failed. But she quickly relaxed and held out her hand to him. She felt the tips of his fingers glide along her palm where the anchor resided and studied his expression intently. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration, magic radiating from the tips of his fingers as he traced the mark. What he was looking for, Amanatha was not sure, but she spotted a flicker of surprise and then, seemingly satisfied with his examination, returned her gaze with his own. “It would seem the anchor has fused with your own magic, melding into something new.” He commented curiously. “What is also fascinating is how it also managed to stabilize itself in the process.” 

“I just simply asked it to meld with my own so Corypheus could not steal it.” 

Solas felt his eyes widen in disbelief. He had never seen let alone heard of ancient Elvhen magic fusing with the elves of these times. It was unheard of, even if they were mages themselves. Deciding to be bold, he spoke once more. “That is quite impressive. I will admit, I had not thought it possible, but you continue to impress me.” He complimented her then added subtly. “Forgive me if this comes off as strange, but are you perhaps available?” 

Amanatha shook her head, eyes never leaving his. “I do not have any pressing appointments at this time. Do you have something in mind?” 

“Indeed.” He nodded with a coy smile. “Let us talk... preferably somewhere more interesting than this.” 

Before she could question the mage about what he meant, Solas removed his hand from hers and placed two fingers upon her brow. He muttered something so softly, the Dalish woman could not catch his words however, she suddenly felt tired and her eyes fluttered closed. He caught her as she fell asleep then carried her to her bed where he laid her down upon the soft blankets. Once certain she was comfortable, Solas moved over towards the fireplace and after he had a fire going in the hearth, he sat on the floor and closed his eyes as well. The warm and familiar sensation of the Fade wrapping around his consciousness like a blanket made his sigh in content. He opened his eyes once more and began searching for the Inquisitor’s own consciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha was not expecting to be thrown into a dream so suddenly, but she thanked her lucky stars that she remained as her usual elvhen self. Normally, when she dreamed herself, she often chose her draconic form as a way to ward off demons. She had learned that they were less likely to attack or seduce her in that form. She did not have time to dwell on the matter as the Fade suddenly shimmered and morphed into the outskirts of Haven. She turned her head just as Solas appeared next to her, a mischievous smile on his face. She huffed in feign indignation.   

“So, you are an I've'an'virelan as well.” Solas said, voice tinted with curiosity. “That explains how you came by the term ‘Fade Walker’.”  

“A little warning would have been welcomed but yes, I am a Dreamer just like you.” She grumbled and the mage’s smile grew. “Does this upset you?”  

“Quite the opposite.” He said waving his hand dismissively. “I am merely surprised that you did not tell me when we first had our talks.”  

Amanatha snorted, giving him a bemused smile. “You never asked.”  

“Touché.”  

“Why Haven exactly?”  

He walked through the gates as they wandered through the memory. “Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.”  

“We talked about that already.” She pouted as he let out his own chuckle of amusement.  

The two walked along the camp, echoes of memories of the villagers talking amongst the Inquisition soldiers. Snow was falling gently around them, adding a small sense of serenity. They soon made their way to the dungeons where Amanatha was first being held captive and a translucent image of her and Solas appeared. She blushed when she saw that she was leaning against the mage as he sat beside her, her marked hand in his own as he stabilized the anchor. He explained that he did indeed sit beside her while she slept as he studied the strange mark. She watched as the mage’s spectral self suddenly brushed a lock of her hair aside and quickly stole a glance at Solas. His face was stoic as usual but there was a hint of a blush forming on his own cheeks.  

“I’m glad someone was watching over me.” She said gratefully.  

“You were a mystery.” Solas flicked his gaze towards her. “You still are. I ran every test I could think of, searched the Fade, yet I found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity and threatened to have me executed as apostate if I did not produce results.”  

“If I were awake at that time; I would never have allowed that.”  

He laughed softly once more. “Unfortunately, you were in no position to argue.” He turned to leave the cell with the woman in tow. He pushed open the door and allowed her to exit first before trailing after her. “You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade?”  

Amanatha frowned slightly. “Well... if I might make a confession, the incident at Haven was not the first time I entered the Fade physically.”  

“Oh?” Hummed the apostate as he stared down at her. “How is that possible?”  

“It's... complicated.”  

“Try me.”  

Amanatha shook her head. “It would be easier for me to show you but that will have to wait until my father returns my letter.” She gave him a pleading look. “I promise it will be worth the wait, but I have to be cautious for the safety of my clan. I hope you can understand...”  

Solas felt his brow crease into a slight frown before he nodded with a brief smile of reassurance. After all, he was guilty of keeping secrets himself. Instead, he continued his explanation from earlier to her. How he was more than frustrated with the ever-growing storm and small rifts in the Veil the Breach was creating. He was also frightened. He had tried to contact any spirit he could, but the Breach had driven them away. In fact, he admitted that he was more than tempted to flee. When the Dalish woman inquired where he would have fled to, he merely shrugged stating that he wasn’t entirely sure. He glanced in the direction of the Breach, an outstretched hand reaching for it and he sighed. He had tried and failed multiple times to seal the rifts, but no ordinary magic had any effect on them. He had almost given up entirely until Amanatha had arrived, sealing the rift with a simple flick of her wrist.  

“You had sealed the rift with a gesture...” He stated with a mesmerized tone. “And right then, I felt the whole world change.”  

“Felt the whole world change?” She repeated, ignoring her now racing heart.  

Solas cleared his throat, a timid smile on his face. “A figure of speech.”  

“I am aware of the metaphor, Solas.” Giggled Amanatha as she took a few steps closer to him. “I’m more interested in ‘ felt ’.”  

Solas swallowed thickly as her eyes stared innocently into his. They seemed to shimmer with their own light. Her face was soft, angelic and her raven-colored hair which normally was tied back in a braid now hung freely, framing her face and draping just barely past her shoulders. He smiled weakly. “You change... everything.” When she turned away to glance at the memory of Haven, he felt a knot forming in his chest. He was getting too deep in this relationship, and he knew it. Knew what would await him if he continued. However, deep in his heart, he did not wish for it to end.  

“Sweet talker.” Amanatha hummed before turning to stare at the apostate only to find him staring off in the distance, a look of sadness on his face.  

She acted without thinking. Her hand cupped his cheek and turned him so that his face was staring directly back at her. Using the last bit of courage she had, Amanatha brushed her lips against his in a feather-light kiss. The stunned expression on his face made the Dalish woman’s own cheeks heat up in embarrassment and she quickly tried to retreat but instead Solas pulled her back to him. One arm was around her waist as he pulled her flush against him and soon his lips were upon hers, his other hand combing through her hair. She opened her mouth, a soft little gasp leaving her throat when his tongue invaded her mouth and swept across her own tongue leaving her feeling weak in the knees. When he finally allowed her to catch her breath, his hand caressing her hair trailed down to her chin and lifted it up so that the two elves were gazing once more into each other’s eyes.  

Amanatha marveled at the silvery blues within Solas’ gaze. They reminded her of the crystal-grace flowers she and her mother once planted together when she was just a toddler. But they also reminded her of Solas’ wolf form when she was thrown briefly into the future. There was so much she saw within those eyes too. Wisdom... oh yes, he had plenty of that. A protective gleam and a mischievous glint when he was being playful with her. But there was also a dark shadow, like a sadness he was carrying with him. Or was it guilt? She was not sure and yet she swore it looked familiar. However, her thoughts were once again interrupted when he kissed her again, this time much gentler. Softer. It left her mind reeling.  

By the time Solas finally regained some control of his actions, he saw that same look in her eyes that she gave him when he found training on the outskirts of Haven. That same fondness... No. Not fondness. Oh no. He needed to stop. Now. “We shouldn’t.” He said breathlessly. “It isn’t right. Not even here.”  

“Not even...” She trailed off then frowned. “Oh... this isn’t real... is it?”  

Solas flashed her a mischievous grin. “That is a matter of debate. Probably best discussed after you...” He lightly flicked her forehead. “ Wake up .”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha jolted upright on her bed, her head swiveling from side to side in surprise and alarm. A familiar chuckle soon reminded her what had transpired, and she gyrated towards the source of the laughing Elvhen man leaning against the back of her couch. Solas’ grin grew more pronounced when the Dalish woman grumbled under her breath, and he decided to tease her a little bit. “Sleep well, da’len ?” He asked watching her struggle to stifle an oncoming yawn. He ducked to avoid a pillow she tossed at him, rotating his head slightly to watch it land on the floor at the base of the couch. She gave him a sharp look which quickly morphed into an amused smile of her own. 

“I have never shared a dream like that before.” She admitted. “It is something I won’t soon forget.” 

The mage felt another bubble of laughter escape him. He was glad she enjoyed the experience but noticed the blush forming on her cheeks and soon he felt his own face growing warm. The memory of their kiss was still very fresh in their minds. “I apologize, by the way.” He offered and Amanatha tilted her head to the side. “The kiss was impulsive and ill considered... and I should not have encouraged it.” 

Amanatha’s shoulders sagged a little, however, she decided to get back at him. “You say that, but you were the one who started with tongue.” She countered with a smirk. 

“I did no such thing.” The man huffed indignantly, his cheeks and even the back of his neck was starting to turn red. 

“Oh?” Giggled the Dalish Inquisitor as she stuck out her own tongue at him teasingly. “Does it not count if it is only Fade-Tongue?” 

Solas’ face turned a bright red as he stumbled over his words trying to form a sentence at least. Damn it, woman ! “It has been a long time.” He finally managed to speak then added while rubbing the back of his bald head almost like a shy teenager. “And things have always been... easier... for me... in the Fade. Fenehdis ... I do not think this is the best idea. It... could lead to trouble.” 

“I am willing to risk it, if you are.” 

“I- maybe... yes.” He said a little hesitantly. “If I could take a little time to think. There are... considerations.” 

Amanatha nodded her head, flashing him another one of her brilliant smiles and Solas dismissed himself. Once the door to her chambers closed, the young woman finally slumped back on to her bed, a hand over her heart. What was this feeling now invading her thoughts?

Chapter Text

“By the Maker, this creature sure made a mess.” Said Cassandra with a disapproving click of her tongue as she scanned the charred remains of a bridge in the distance. 

“Sounds like this will be an exciting week.” The Iron Bull chuckled in excitement. 

The Inquisitor had recently received word that a High Dragon had suddenly decided to make the outskirts of Redcliffe its new nest and had been causing havoc on Leliana’s spy network and Cullen’s forces. Josephine had also informed Amanatha that the nobles of Fereldan had requested the Inquisition’s aid in slaying the beast. Now they were back in the Hinterlands searching for the beast. Amanatha’s group consisted of Iron Bull, Cassandra Solas and Dorian. They were still riding towards the forward camp where Leliana’s scouts had surmised was the dragon’s nest when the Tevinter mage spotted movement to his right. “It would appear that we have company.” He said as the sound of something growling approached them. 

“That’s a Shade...” Solas noted as the lumbering spirit made its way towards the group. “Perhaps there is a rift nearby.” 

Amanatha quirked a brow in confusion then turned her head slightly to glance at Solas. “I thought the Elvhen relics we found strengthened the Veil to prevent rifts from forming.” 

“You must remember, da’len , there has been a great number of deaths due to the dragon’s rampage, so the spirits are pressing against the Veil, weakening it.” Solas reminded the Dalish as she reached for her bow. “But we are in luck. I sense another relic nearby.” 

After taking care of the Shade, Dorian and Iron Bull took point in leading the group in the direction he saw the spirit come from. They were rounding a corner when the group heard someone shouting and spells being cast. A woman from the sound of it. Thestral tossed his head and growled as his nostrils flared and he pawed at the earth aggressively. The Inquisitor patted the dracolisk’s neck though she furrowed her brow in response. Thestral was usually a well-mannered mount. Even for a draconic equine. However, as Amanatha turned the corner and dismounted from the saddle, she found that the source of the woman’s voice was from a Dalish woman in Keeper robes, but it was someone she had not expected nor wanted to see. Amanatha suddenly went rigid. Solas noticed her hesitation even while the others rushed ahead to help the Dalish. “What is the matter?” He asked her in a whisper. 

“I was hoping that woman wasn’t someone I knew...” She muttered as she brushed her thumb against the skin under her eyes, like she trying to rub something off. “She’s the last person I wanted to see.” 

Solas frowned at her. “Who is she?” 

Amanatha didn’t answer. Instead, she steeled herself and approached Cassandra and Dorian as they tended to the woman. The woman called herself Mienassan and she looked surprisingly similar to the Inquisitor in terms of appearance but there were several major differences asides from the obvious age difference. This Dalish had pixie-cut reddish-brown hair, but her eyes were the same color as Amanatha’s. However, unlike Amanatha, this woman had the vallaslin of Andruil, Dalish Goddess of the Hunt, upon her face in a blood-red color. She was informing Cassandra and Dorian that she had left her previous clan and even claimed that she knew more about magic and the Veil than any shemlem or outsider and even tried offering them aid. That was until Amanatha finally spoke. 

“ Ma harel ,” Hissed the Inquisitor icily before she spat once more in voice dripping with venom, it had even Cassandra momentarily stunned. “Mienassan.” 

Mienassan ? Solas thought in confusion as he stared between the two women. The second woman merely stared at Amanatha, a momentary look of shock dancing across her features. 

“Surprised?” The Inquisitor growled when the woman scoffed then added rather harshly, “I don’t care why you here, but I suggest you move along before more demons show up.” 

Mienassan smiled coldly. “Come now, ashalan . Is that anyway to speak to your mamae ? Are you not going to introduce your shemlem and flat-eared companions? I thought I taught you better. Or do I need to remind you?” She reached to brush her knuckles along the Inquisitor's cheek only to have the younger Dalish smack it away angrily.

“ Nae! Ga rahn s'dael !” Ordered Amanatha as she backed away slightly from her. “I will not ask again. Leave.”  

Mienassan merely chuckled as she strolled passed Amanatha but not before whispering in her ear. “ Na din’an sahlin, ashalan. Ir emah’la shal .” 

Cassandra and Dorian were at a loss at the conversation, not well versed in the Elvhen tongue but when they spared a glance at the Inquisitor, she was clenching her fists so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Solas caught most of the conversation save for the whispering comment but when he turned to inquire what had transpired, Amanatha shot him a glance before entering the ruins. “What has the poor thing so tied up inside?” Dorian wondered curiously. 

Iron Bull merely shrugged his massive shoulders. “I don’t know, but she went from being as calm as a breeze to a snake ready to strike.” 

“I think it had something to do with that other woman...” Cassandra muttered back to the Tevinter mage. “What do you think So-? Solas?” 

Solas jogged after the Inquisitor as she made her way down a flight of stairs, her right hand radiating with Veilfire. She could hear Solas trying to catch up with her, but she just wanted to be alone. She found herself in a large chamber signifying that she had arrived at a dead end. Amanatha didn’t even realize that she was panting until she stopped before another one of the relics. Why did she have to be here ? Thought the Inquisitor bitterly as she felt her heart pound painfully in her chest. Her breathing was quickening from panic even as she stubbornly fought to keep herself calm but even that was hard. The memories of that day washed over her like a tsunami. Her left hand held her stomach while her right covered her eyes and she bit her lower lip hard, hoping that the pain would quash these feelings. Her ears twitched to the sound of voices making their way down to the chamber and Amanatha closed her eyes, held her breath and counted to ten then exhaled before turning her attention to the relic. 

“Inquisitor.” She heard Solas call out to her as she placed her left hand on the relic, activating it in that familiar green glow. She ignored his voice and sighed when the relic’s magical energy washed over her and raced outside.  

“Amanatha.” Solas called out for her once more. 

She turned her head, offering the mage a small smile but the light did not reach her eyes. “Come on. Let’s take care of the dragon now, shall we?” 

When she tried to walk past him, he gently grabbed her arm, his eyes pulled tight in a frown full of concern and worry. He had never seen her in such a state before. True they had encountered a few Dalish Clans that were traveling but she never reacted like this before, and it was obvious that whatever words the other woman said to her clearly unsettled her. It was more than a little concerning. “Dirtha em.” 

Her lips parted but just as she was about to speak, Dorian and Cassandra had already arrived and the Elvhen woman close her mouth, her mask of Inquisitor taking over. She hardly spoke as they made camp later that evening within a massive crag leading to an open field. They had seen their quarry fly over towards the area earlier and assumed that the beast would be resting too. While everyone indulged on some of the ram stew roasting over the fire, Amanatha had retired to her tent early with Thestral standing guard in front of it. One by one, the others soon retired to bed until Iron Bull insisted that he take the first watch. Deciding not to argue, Solas wandered into his own tent where he settled under the warm fur of his sleeping bag. He then recalled a message he had received while awaking from his shared dream with Amanatha and closed his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He found the location well enough along with his agent who was impatiently tapping his foot. Their location in the Fade quickly manifested itself into a reflection of a room within Halamshiral. Once the vision cleared, Solas folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve been waiting.” He pointed out and the agent bowed his head slightly.    

“Ir abelas, Fen’Harel but gathering information about the Herald of Andraste has not been entirely fruitful. Dismal at best but I will tell you what I can.” He informed the apostate who frowned further but gestured for the agent to continue. “She is well-known among the spirits of the Fade though they refused to explain how. So, you were right about her possibly being a Dreamer. The name Lavellan on the other hand is a more recognizable name to track but the notions and theories are absurd.”   

“I already confirmed the Herald’s secret of being a Dreamer. Explain, please, these theories you have in regards to her name.” Solas ordered calmly.   

The agent nodded his head. “The one thing that raised suspicion to me was the name of her clan: Lavellan. They are the only Dalish clan that has had the same leader for centuries, dating back to the era of Arlathan’s golden years, in fact. Does the name Athhon sound familiar?”    

Solas felt his eyes widen as he knew he recognized Amanatha’s name, but he still found it hard to believe that anyone lived for that long after the Veil was erected. Athhon was a name he had not heard of in a great while and even when he was asleep, he never found evidence that any of his people survived the events of Arlathan’s fall. Very peculiar. If this was true, and this agent has never once failed him, then that would mean Amanatha had some explaining to do and he was more than looking forward to finding some answers. But for now, the questions would have to wait as he could already feel the Fade rippling as his body awoke.    

“Ma serannas. Keep up the good work.” He said, “We will be in touch.”  

“Dareth shiral, Fenharel.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

As morning crept over the camp, Solas was the first to rise. He then heard shuffling in the tent next to his. Taking that as his signal to get ready, the mage quickly donned his armor and collected his staff. Solas pulled the flaps of his tent back to find Amanatha already leaving the camp and he felt a brow rise. He wanted to wait for the others to wake up but the thought of seeing the Inquisitor leave without someone to watch her back did not sit well with him. He crouched low and followed after her. As he followed her, the more nervous he became. Amanatha was literally making her way deep in to the dragon’s nest. Then she stopped and crouched low in the tall grass before turning to glance over her shoulder. “You need to work on your stealth, Solas. I could hear you since we woke up.” 

“Why did you think it was a good idea to come out here alone and with a high dragon on the loose?” He scolded the woman, ignoring her teasing. 

She merely grinned. “You’ll see in a moment.” 

Just as she spoke, a roar shattered the quiet dawn, and a great flapping of wings were heard above them. Solas whipped his head upwards as a golden blur descended upon the two elves. When he reached for his staff, Amanatha grabbed his wrist and slowly shook her head. “No. Not yet.” She said as the great creature landed upon the soft grass; its wings outstretched so wide that one would think it could block the sun. “I want to show you something.” Before he could even attempt to stop her, the Dalish woman stood up and made her way towards the beast. Is this woman insane?! He thought as he rushed after her. He nearly froze when the monster turned its head towards Amanatha and he swore his heart stopped when the dragon opened its maw, intent of devouring the elven woman only to find himself slack-jawed when Amanatha knelt before the creature! The dragon lowered its neck and brought its head down towards the woman, nostrils flaring as it sniffed her then it shook its head and laid down, folding its wings against its body. Amanatha reached up as the dragon lowered its head to her level and allowed the woman to glide her hands along its scaly cheek.  

Solas quickly turned his head around as he heard the others running towards them in alarm, calling out to the apostate. He quickly held out his arms quickly ordering the group to stand down as the Inquisitor was quite literally within biting range of the dragon and did not wish to risk agitating it. As Dorian, Cassandra and Iron Bull stared in disbelief at the sight before them, the Tevinter mage was the first to speak.  

“That’s a Fereldan Frostback!” Dorian exclaimed as he stared at the golden beast.  

“Aren’t they usually more... aggressive than this?” Iron Bull asked, soundly slightly disappointed at the odd display of affection between the Inquisitor and the dragon. 

Cassandra nodded her head. “I’ve read that this species of high dragon is usually extremely territorial but... Solas what exactly are we looking at?” 

“For once,” Solas began shaking his head, “I am at loss for even I have never been this close to a high dragon before.” 

Amanatha turned her head towards the group and motioned with her hands for them to come closer. “Come on over, my friends. She will not attack us until we have shown her proper respect.” 

The four of them exchanged confused glances, the same thought running through their heads. Proper respect ? 

They warily descended down the hill towards the Inquisitor as she stood beside the dragon’s shoulder, one hand still resting on the scaly hide. Iron Bull let out an impressed whistle as he finally got to study the powerful beast. Dorian was enthralled with its beautiful golden scales glittering the morning sun while Cassandra was staring directly at the dragon’s fangs that were protruding past its scaly lips. Solas didn’t know what to think nor did he have the words to speak. He had never heard of dragons needing proper respect. Amanatha grinned brightly as she glanced up at the dragon, moving slightly to avoid its wings as it extended them so that they would be warmed by the rising sun. “I wanted you all to experience something special when it comes to fighting with dragons. They are powerful, yes. But they are also beautiful and demand respect. I have seen two dragons fight before and usually before each fight, they would lay down like this and ‘talk’ for a lack of a better term.” She explained as the Frostback yawned loudly. “So often people rush to fight them and don’t even show gratitude or respect when fighting them. They just kill them and take their trophies.” 

“So... you wanted us to show this dragon respect before fighting them as a way of thanks?” The hulking Qunari inquired. “What’s to stop them from trying to kill us as soon as they see us?” 

Amanatha chuckled as she pointed at her bow that was still slung over her shoulder, then gestured towards her companions who had neglected to draw their weapons when approaching. “Believe it or not, High Dragons will not attack those who do not have their weapons drawn upon encountering them. They will fight once we draw our weapons. It’s their way of showing respect and honor to us.” The Frostback dragon snorted before rising to her feet and she bowed her head at the group then unfurled her wings once more, releasing a challenging roar in response. “She said to draw our weapons, so let us give her a worthy battle.” 

“Hell yeah!” Iron Bull yelled excitedly as he drew his battleaxe and brandished it. 

The battle was fierce. Solas had to take cover under a ledge to avoid a fireball while Cassandra and Bull focused on the dragon’s legs. Amanatha kept the Frostback’s attention on her by firing arrows at the wing joints to keep the beast grounded. Iron Bull let out a pained grunt when the dragon’s tail whipped around and knocked him aside, causing him to slide against the sharp rocky ground but he was laughing manically out of excitement. Cassandra was knocked unconscious shortly after receiving a headbutt from the animal after it had collapsed on the ground from having the Seeker slam her shield against her hind leg. Soon, it was just Dorian, Solas and Amanatha facing the dragon as she growled at the two, her wings outstretched defensively but her head was held high and her tail twitching. Blood was pouring from her limbs as she roared once more, only this time it was so loud that it had the human and two elves covering their ears to protect their eardrums. When the sound ceased, Solas only had a split second to roll out of the way of the massive snapping jaws. However, he quickly realized that he was now in a more dangerous predicament as he was now surrounded by two of the high dragon’s larger hatchlings. He blocked the first hatchling’s attack by raising his staff just in time to evade an incoming bite, but he let out a yelp when the second one bit his arm causing him to lose his grip on the staff.  

The first hatchling stole his weapon and snapped its jaws hard, shattering the wooden staff while the apostate grappled with its sibling. As the first one started charging towards him, and with one arm currently in the second one’s mouth, Solas had to think quickly. He focused on his free hand, feeling the Fade ether wrap around his palm. Just as the first hatchling lunged for his throat, the tip of a spectral dagger appeared through the hatchling’s head, and it collapsed in a heap allowing Solas to finish off the second one with a quick stab through its eye. He hissed when the hatchling released him, its fangs carving a few deep canyons on his right arm. Amanatha was aiding the Tevinter mage as he erected a barrier around the two of them when she spotted Solas wounded.  

“Dorian! Hold her off!”  

“On it!” 

The Inquisitor retreated towards the injured apostate and hauled him to his feet. “Can you move your hand?” 

Solas clenched his injured hand into a fist, wincing as he did so. Amanatha nodded as she tore the sleeve from the tunic under her armor and made a quick binding on his wound. “Ma serannas.”  

“Thank me after we finish the battle. Think you can get Iron Bull and Cassandra up on their feet without a staff?” 

He nodded as he sprinted towards Cassandra first. While he was busy with the two warriors, Amanatha returned to Dorian’s side just in time to let loose an exploding arrow into the dragon’s mouth as she was about to breathe fire upon them. The exploding arrow caused the gas she was about to release to combust too early, and the dragon thrashed her head from side to side in pain. “Well done!” The Tevinter mage laughed as the high dragon sputtered smoke as though it had eaten something spicy. Cassandra groaned as her head throbbed and she found Solas looming over her. When he asked about her injuries, she waved him off stating that she only had a headache. Rousing the Iron Bull took some time, mainly due to the fact that the Qunari had his horns stuck in bedrock and with his injured arm, proved difficult to dislodge him. Once Bull was freed, he watched as the Qunari charged right back into the battle. 

In desperation to deal with at least one of its adversaries, the high dragon quickly got to her feet and locked eyes with Solas. She snarled as she slammed her tail into the ground causing the earth beneath their feet to shake them off-balance and she opened her gaping jaws, fire spewing from within. One-handed, Solas created a barrier around himself as best he could to prepare for the inevitable attack but when he had to shield his eyes as a lightning bolt pierced through the high dragon’s head. Amanatha was panting as she and the others moved aside and the creature collapsed in a heap, its head lolling to one side as its eyes stared vacantly at them and the dust settled around them, coating them in a thin film of dirt. 

Silence fell around them as they stared at the once majestic creature before Iron Bull let out a happy shout. “We did it! That was the most exhilarating battle I had ever experienced!”  

“It was a glorious battle.” Amanatha smiled as she rested her hand on the high dragon’s eye and closed it reverently. “You fought valiantly, too.” 

Solas collected the pieces of his broken staff and sighed. True, this staff was not his original which was safely stored in the rotunda at Skyhold but he felt bad for having a tool destroyed so easily by mere dragon hatchlings. He shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps he’d have Blackwall repair it or even give it to Fiona to see if they utilize whatever magical residues remained within the broken staff. 

While Dorian, Cassandra and Iron Bull dealt with collecting materials from the massive creature, the Inquisitor slowly made her way towards Solas who was already mending his wound, though the grimaces and faint grunts he was making told her he was in quite a bit of pain. She held up her own hand, now glowing with golden tendrils of healing magic, and the mage nodded his head granting his permission. The two spoke no words as her magic stitched and mended the parted flesh back into place and she had finished, she lightly patted the healed limb and gave him a smile. When he tried to brush the soot and dirt from her face to return the sentiment, Amanatha quickly pulled away suggesting they return to camp and rest up before their journey back to Skyhold. Confused, Solas barely nodded before following her back to camp. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas sat by the fire with the others as they ate their meal. He was half listening to Iron Bull going on and on about their match with the Frostback when he spotted Amanatha sitting by the edge of the pond near their camp with her dracolisk laying beside her, his snout nudging her as though trying to cheer her up. She had not been herself since encountering that strange woman earlier and she once again isolated herself after their success with the High Dragon. Solas then noticed Dorian jerk his head in the Dalish woman’s direction, silently urging the apostate to check on her while he kept the Seeker and the Iron Bull occupied. Quietly excusing himself, the elf parted from the group and practically gravitated towards the woman. He was right behind her when she suddenly spoke up. 

“Solas... what were your parents like?”  

The question had caused him to almost stumble over his feet. He had not anticipated such a question, but his curiosity overwhelmed his need for caution. “They were loving and kind. My father was a brilliant teacher. He taught me the basics of spell casting.” He answered as he sat down beside her. “My mother was a kind woman. Very skilled with potions and herbal remedies. She was also very wise and always knew what to say whenever I felt lost or worried.” 

“They sound like they were amazing people...” 

Solas nodded, closing his eyes. “They were...” He sighed then cleared his throat and turned his head to gaze at the Inquisitor only to find her staring at her reflection in the water. “What brought this topic upon you?” 

Amanatha brought her right hand to her face. “You remember the woman we met earlier? Mienassa?” 

“The one claiming to be your mother?” 

“She wasn’t claiming to be my mother... She is my mother.” Amanatha said bitterly. “But we haven’t spoken let alone seen each other for over thirteen years.” 

“I noticed you were very agitated after we encountered her...” Solas recalled then frowned. “That still doesn’t explain what brought your previous question earlier.” His hand reached up to turn her cheek when he noticed something glinting under her eye. He brushed his thumb along her skin and found more gold under the dirt and what was left of what he now discovered was make-up. He noticed Amanatha hissed each time his thumb removed more of her ‘mask’. When he finally removed the last of the debris, his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Upon the Inquisitor’s face, just under her eyes was a golden vallaslin ! The tattoos were a simplified though a rather sloppy version of Mythal’s tattoos as though the artist who had done the branding had little experience. 

“You bear the vallaslin .” He finally spoke, his face unreadable but his tone sounded disappointed.  

Amanatha lifted her hands and gently removed the apostate’s grasp from her face as she nodded. “I bear them, but I never asked for them...” 

“Is that why they look so... angry?” He chose his words carefully, observing how she looked away, her head hanging low as though trying to hide a great shame then nodded her head once more. “Who did this to you?” 

“You met her... Mienassan... my mother.” Amanatha spat harshly, her arms wrapping around her stomach as she told the tale. 

Solas learned that Mienassan had left Amanatha and her father when the Inquisitor was only four years old and had returned to her original clan. When he probed for more information as to why her mother left, Amanatha shook her head as she was not entirely sure why her mother left in the first place. It explained why she spoke so fondly of her father now. Her father was the only parental figure she had who did not leave her. She explained that once she was sixteen, she was allowed to leave her home in the Emerald Graves to try and rekindle some sort of bond with her mother. Her mother’s clan at the time was residing in the Exalted Plains to the west but the visit took a dark turn. Apparently, her mother had tricked her into coming alone with her on hunt under the pretense of bonding only to ambush Amanatha. He saw the Inquisitor shaking as she hugged her knees trying to calm herself though it did little to help only calming down when Thestral placed his chin on her head as a way for the dracolisk to hug his mistress. 

“I fought with her… pleaded for her to stop but she didn’t.” Amanatha growled clenching her fists so tightly Solas thought she’d break her hand in the process. “Then to keep me from moving she thrust her sword through my stomach. I was too stunned to move let alone scream as she finished branding me… then she left me there…” 

 Solas decided that it would be best to not press her further and the two just sat in silence for a time. He was left speechless once more. He had seen the brutality of some Dalish clans but never something on this level. It actually made him sick to his stomach as he remembered the slaves from his time. To think that there were Dalish just as brutal as the Evanuris was appalling and disconcerting. “So you hide the vallaslin out of shame and hate for it?” 

“If I knew the spell to remove them, I would have done so long ago.” The Inquisitor sniffled, hissing when the back of her hand brushed against the tattoos. “Father couldn’t remove them either because he didn’t know the spell at all…” 

“I can remove them.” 

Amanatha shot Solas a cold glare. “Don’t give me false hope Solas.” 

“I am being honest, Amanatha.” Solas said cradling her cheek with care. “I can remove them and if you wish, when we return to Skyhold I will remove them.” 

“Promise?” 

He gave her a soft, reassuring smile. “I promise. For now get some rest.” 

Chapter Text

No sooner did they return to Skyhold, Amanatha received a letter from Scout Harding. The dwarven scout had sent out a call for help when several of her scouts went missing and from the contents, couldn’t risk losing any more. Dorian had opted to remain in the library to try and dig for more information on Corypheus. Cassandra had to remain behind to discuss some leads with Leliana. Solas wasn’t really interested in going to the coast but when he noticed Vivienne and Iron Bull insisted on joining her, he decided to go along with them. Thankfully, Cole decided to join as well. “You know, you don’t have to come along if you don’t want to Solas.” Amanatha stated as she finished grooming Thestral for the journey. 

“I insist, Inquisitor.” The apostate reassured her then glanced over his shoulder looking at the tavern across the way. “Besides, I have a feeling that if I do stay, Sera and Dorian might not live another day if they decide to prank me while I work.” 

Amanatha let out a laugh. “Fair point.” 

“Since we do not have to leave immediately, perhaps we can take care of that promise I made you.” 

The woman glanced at the mage, a hopeful look on her face as she instinctively placed a hand over her cheek then offered him a nod. “Perhaps after dinner.” The two then parted ways for a while and the Inquisitor made her way to the tavern where she spotted the Iron Bull sitting at the bar pouring what looked to be some kind of Qunari beverage. The Qunari seemed to sense her presence and beckoned her over excitedly as he poured her a drink. Apparently, he was celebrating their victory over the high dragon with a special drink from his homeland. She cautiously took a sniff of the drink before downing the mug, only to let out a cough at the burning sensation now flooding her throat. “ Fenedhis , that’s strong!” 

“Haha! Yeah! Puts some chest on your... well chest.” The Iron Bull laughed as he downed his drink with a happy sigh. “Ahhh, that gurgle before she spat fire at us! Oh, and that roar! Such lovely music! What I would give to roar like that! The way the ground shook as it landed, the smell of fire burning! Ataashi !” 

“I take it you hold dragons in high regard?” Amanatha asked as the giant poured her another drink.  

He grinned broadly. “Well, as much as we hold anything sacred. Ataashi as we call them.” 

“Ata-what?”  

“ Ataashi . The ‘glorious ones’. That’s our word for them.” Nodded the Qunari as he drank his entire cup then gestured for the Dalish to do the same. He lightly patted her back when she coughed again after drinking her cup, chuckling softly. “Yeah, the second cup’s easier since most of the nerves are dead after the first.” 

“So, why do the Qunari think of dragons in such a way?” 

Bull hummed contently as he finished his cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his head so that his good eye was looking at her. “Well, you know we have horns? So do we and that sort of makes us look more... dragon-y. The Ben-Hassorath have this crazy old theory about us. The tamassarans or leaders I guess you can call them control who we mate with...” 

“Like how humans have bred dogs or horses?” 

Bull nodded with a low almost happy sounding purr though Amanatha was more than certain it was the alcohol talking. “Yeah. So, what if they mixed a bit of dragon with us?” 

“When you say it like that makes me think it was a shame we had to kill her.” Amanatha said as she took another drink, a grimace forming on her face as the bitter herbs tickled her throat once more and her cheeks started to heat up in the process. 

“Hahahaha! It was a damn good fight though. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power, believed to be uncontrollable and savage so naturally, they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order from chaos...” Bull said refilling her cup once more. “But you changed that way of thinking, Boss. Well, somewhat anyway.” 

“Oh, with me showing you all that they have a culture in a sense?” 

The Qunari purred once more as he bobbed his drunkenly. “Yeah. Who would have thought dragons were more intelligent than we were led to believe and the battle she gave us after showing her that respect... I have fought a dragon before but never something like that before... it wasn’t just a battle of survival... it was-” 

“Something more?” Amanatha finished his sentence and the Qunari grinned as he held up his mug to her. 

“To dragons!”  

“To finding the biggest, baddest things in the world and showing them that we are better.” She laughed as they clicked mugs and finished off the drinks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas sighed exasperated when he found the Inquisitor shortly afterwards laying on the couch in the rotunda. He could easily smell the Qunari alcohol on her breath though he was not surprised by the outcome. What did surprise him was the fact that she made back into the castle without stumbling and somehow managed to find the rotunda well enough. He lifted his cloak off the coat rack next to the couch then draped it over the sleeping Inquisitor. He gently lifted her head and tucked a small pillow under her then brushed a lock of hair out of her face. He turned to return to his desk and continue his studies when he felt something grip his own hand tightly. He glanced down to find the Inquisitor had awakened and she stared up at him, dazed and tired. “Stay...please...”  

“Only until you fall asleep, da’len .”  

She managed a tiny nod as her fingers reluctantly slipped away from his and shuffled back under his cloak. He moved to sit next to the couch, and he pulled out his sketchbook from his pocket. The only sound to be heard was the gliding of the charcoal. He heard the Inquisitor shift slightly on the cushions seeming looking over his shoulder, but he willed himself to focus on the sketch before him. After about an hour, he turned to discover that she had fallen asleep finally. Smiling softly, the mage quietly rose from his position and rolled out the stiffness in his shoulders. The mage soon realized how late it was as he could not hear anymore chatter upstairs. He glanced once more at the Inquisitor silently debating whether or not he should move her to her quarters.  

I suppose she could sleep with me. He thought only to recoil in shock and irritation at himself for thinking of such a thing. He glanced at her once more. What am I thinking? That’s a terrible idea! He seemed to be warring with himself when he soon found his body moving on its own as he cradled the sleeping woman in his arms, a blush forming on his face as her head rested against his chest. Well... perhaps just this once? He thought once more and soon his doubt erased itself as he felt her smiling against his shirt seemingly making the decision for him.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“You dare defy your gods?!” The largest of the dragons snarled as he loomed over her. His scales were dark, almost blood red in color and his wings appeared to be set ablaze. “Answer your god, slave!”  

Amanatha laughed as she stood protectively over the injured wolf, lightning dancing around her like a protective cloak. Her claws dug into the earth, eyes glowing brightly. “I don’t see a god.” She spat defiantly, a snarl leaving her own throat. “I see the ghost of a man who has deluded himself and countless others.”  

The red beast let loose a terrifying roar as he lunged at her, but she was ready for the attack. She sank her fangs into the god’s nose, dug her claws further into the ground beneath her and pulled back against the resistance, leaving a nasty wound on her adversary’s snout. Blood spurt from the wound as he reared back in pain, the rest of the pantheon rushing to tend to their injured company. Using the distraction, Amanatha slid under the injured wolf, adjusted it so that it was resting comfortably on her back, and she took off to find refuge for them both. As she flew off, she heard the other dragons roaring in anger.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha woke up with a start, panting from the dream and she cradled her now throbbing head. That’s the last time I try drinking a Qunari under the table . She grumbled to herself as she dropped her hand down, her fingers gliding along warm skin. She blinked. Whipping her head down, she found that she was not in her own bed nor was she alone. Sleeping soundly next to her was Solas! She quickly gave herself a once over, silently relieved that she was still in her clothes. So, what was she doing in his bed?! She remembered drinking with the Iron Bull then she recalled returning to the castle. She recalled seeing Solas vaguely in the rotunda then nothing. A low groan reminded her that she was not alone, and she glanced back at the apostate. His brow was furrowed tightly, hand clenching the sheets tightly. He was muttering unintelligibly and soon his brow broke into a cold sweat.  

Is he having a nightmare? She thought to herself before turning towards the dreaming elf. He gritted his teeth, whimpering out apologies. The Dalish woman frowned with sympathy when an idea struck her. She quietly cleared her throat and began to sing a soft lullaby to him. 

Elgara vallas, da'len 
Melava somniar 
Mala taren aravas 
Ara ma'desen melar 
 

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

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

She brushed a cool hand along the expanse of his scalp in soothing circles as she continued to sing her lullaby and slowly but surely his soft whimpers settled back to a steady rhythm. Then he was no longer frowning. Amanatha was not sure what brought about the nightmare, nor did she know what it was about it, but she stayed with him, her hand continuing to glide along his head in comforting circles. A few more hours passed and Amanatha noticed that more and more people were waking up to begin their daily chores. The Inquisitor sighed inwardly before slipping out of the room, taking care not to be seen by any of the servants, then proceeded to her quarters to freshen up. By the time she had returned to the main hall, everyone was already digging into their food. Even Solas, though he had taken an empty seat away from the group and seemed to be going over some notes while munching on a scone. 

Iron Bull was laughing heartily with his men with Dorian seemingly enraptured with the stories being told by the hulking Qunari. Vivienne and Josephine were deep in gossip and Leliana was conversing with Cullen. Sera was laughing like a maniac over something Cassandra had said though the Inquisitor was unsure what was said. Varric seemed to be answering some correspondence. She was about to join the group when Cole suddenly appeared next to her and spoke softly.  

“It's loud and lively. Just like home. How I miss it. Father too. I hope they are alright.” He said then glanced at Amanatha. “You are homesick.” 

She nodded. “Yes, but soon I’ll visit them. Probably after our business with the Storm Coast.” 

“Can I come too?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Amanatha smiled. “Spirits are always welcomed in our home.” 

When her gaze landed upon the apostate, Cole followed her gaze then stared back at her. “Don’t worry. He did not mind last night.” 

Amanatha turned bright red and just as Cole was about to speak once more, she lightly clamped a hand over the spirit’s mouth. “Please, little brother, you are a big help, but I’m still embarrassed about last night.”  

“Okay.” Said the spirit, slightly disappointed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Later that afternoon, Amanatha had finished dressing in her armor for their journey to the Storm Coast when a messenger crow landed on her desk, cawing at her. The elf spun around and smiled brightly as she offered her arm for the bird to perch on while she fiddled with removing the parchment from its leg. She watched as it flew out the window and towards the rookery then proceeded to unwrap the paper. Just as she did, she sensed someone at her door and called out loudly. “The door is unlocked, Solas.”  

Her eyes scanned the parchment as she heard the door open followed by the footsteps of the elf making his way up to the room. She glanced up at the apostate as he wandered over to the couch. “I take it you are feeling better, da’len?” He inquired, noticing the light blush dancing along her cheeks. 

“I was about to ask you that,” she countered lowering the paper slightly, “You seemed to be having a nightmare earlier.” 

“Ah... you were awake for that...wait...” He paused, “you weren’t perhaps the one who was singing to me earlier, were you?” 

“I was also petting you as well.” She added teasingly before her eyes softened with concern. “Did it help?” 

He nodded slightly. “It did. Thank you. I do not often suffer from nightmares...” 

“I know the feeling.” 

There was an awkward silence between the two elves before Amanatha cleared her throat and offered him a glimpse of the letter she had just received. He carefully took the letter and began to scan the contents, a look of surprise on his face. The letter was from her father and from what he was reading, it seemed as though Atthon had agreed to have her bring a few guests to the Emerald Graves. In truth, he was expecting him to deny her request in favor of keeping her clan safe. “It says here that you will be celebrating a festival when we arrive there. What kind of festival is this?” He inquired curiously as he handed her back the letter. 

“It’s the Festival of Fen’Harel.” 

Solas blinked in confusion. “The Festival... of Fen’Harel? I thought your clan did not worship any of the Elvhen gods?” 

“We don’t.” Amanatha laughed softly as she set the letter down on her desk. “We call it the Festival of Fen’Harel because it’s how we celebrate our independence from the tyranny of the Elvhen gods. That and it rolls off the tongue better. Better than saying Festival of Independence from Tyranny.” 

Solas shook his head chuckling in amusement. “I suppose though you are aware of the superstition behind Fen’Harel.” 

“Ask me if I care.” She barked another laugh. 

“Do you?” 

“Nope. I don’t care about the superstition however,” She paused for a moment before finding her words, “Fen’Harel did what he believed to be right and whether or not he sees it, he did indeed do the right thing in more ways than one.” 

Solas frowned slightly but shook his head. He then gestured towards the Inquisitor’s face, silently reminding him why he was with her in the first place. Instinctively, she touched her face before looking at him nervously. “What is wrong, Amanatha? I thought you wished for them to be removed.” 

“I do... it’s just...” 

“Just what, da’len?”  

She gave him a nervous look. “Will it... will it hurt?” 

Oh ... His gaze softened in realization as he walked over to her desk and picked up one of her feather quills. Confused, she followed his movements then giggled lightly as the mage brushed the feather across her face. “It will not hurt though this is the sensation you might feel.” He reassured her, finding her reaction to being tickled oddly endearing. He then set the feather down and gently took her hand, guiding her to the couch where he had her sit down and sat next to her, slightly turning to face her. “Are you ready?” 

Amanatha nodded, feeling his hands brush along her skin. She stiffened slightly, her eyes squinting at the pale bluish-white light that was his magic. He kept his voice calm and soft as he ran his fingers along the path of the tattoos. He was careful, his touch gentle, applying little pressure. With each passing, more and more of the vallasin disappeared from her skin, leaving it as bare as the day she was born. He smiled as his brushed his knuckles across her cheeks in a final pass and nodded in satisfaction. Soon, the magic faded, and he cupped her cheek tenddering as she opened her eyes which she had closed when he started. “Did it work?” She asked nervously and he smiled gently at her as he nodded his head. 

“Ar lasa mala revas.” He confirmed then grunted slightly as the woman suddenly hugged him tightly. Unsure at first, he remained motionless then wrapped his arms around her in reciprocation. 

“Ma serannas.” She whispered. “You do not realize how much that meant to me...” 

Chapter Text

Amanatha’s dracolisk snorted as his mistress climbed into the saddle with Solas following suit. The Inquisitor urged the animal to a trot as they waited by a carriage for Vivienne and Iron Bull. Cole was wandering over to them, seeming to look over Varric’s shoulder as the dwarf stopped before her. “After seeing so much inspiration from everyone, I decided to jog my memory.” The dwarf said wryly before plastering a meek smile on his face. “I sent a message to an old friend of mine. They've crossed paths with Corypheus before and may know more about what he’s doing. They can help.” The Inquisitor nodded her head with a smile stating that once she returned to Skyhold she would meet with the dwarf’s contact. Varric seemed pleased stating that once his friend arrived, he’d introduce her to them. With his message delivered, Varric sauntered off back to the castle, walking passed Bull and Vivienne. As Cole and the others piled onto the carriage, Amanatha turned her head to glance at the apostate.  

“If Varric is bringing who I think it is...”  

Solas finished her sentence, a tight smile on his face. “Cassandra is going to kill him.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

It was raining by the time the Inquisitor and her companions arrived at the coast. The scent of sea water permeated the air along with the scent of fresh rain. Amanatha quickly found Harding and her scouts huddling under their tents when they spotted their company and quickly beckoned her and her companions out of the downpour. Vivienne merely grumbled in annoyance as she quickly walked under the tarp, shaking her cloak and drying it with a drying spell. Bull seemed not to mind the rain. Cole looked miserable but he was smiling up at the rain overhead. “So much water. Where does it go?” The spirit wondered out loud then sneezed. “It’s very wet... achoo!”  

Amanatha chuckled as she placed a soothing hand on the spirit’s head and cast a spell to dry him off. “Rain feeds the ground and helps the plants grow, little brother.”  

Cole nodded as he stood beside Solas while Amanatha talked with Harding. He looked up at the apostate and tilted his head curiously. “Shining like the stars, yet clouds of shadow wrap around me. I can’t help but be drawn to her. Yet I cannot stay. What to do?” He whispered then glanced at the Inquisitor. “She senses your emotions too. Likes seeing you smile.”  

Solas hummed softly, his eyes never leaving the Inquisitor as she shuffled through Harding’s reports.   

Soon, they were off once more, thankfully the storm overhead had ceased, even if it were a little while. They started at the coast where they found evidence of a scuffle. Bull had found a tattered note mentioning a house overlooking the coast that seemed to be an outlook for a group known as the Blades of Hessarian. So, the group began their journey there. Amanatha was ahead, laughing as she saw Thestral prancing along the crashing waves of the water. Vivienne and Bull had opted to stay closer to the hills not wanting to be drenched by the tides. Solas and Cole were the only ones that remained near the Inquisitor as she coaxed her mount back to the group, peals of laughter resonating once more when the beast decided to shake the saltwater off his body and onto his mistress.   

“My dear, do come away from the tides before you are swept away.” Vivienne sighed as though she were scolding a misbehaving child.  

“C’mon Viv, live a little.” Bull laughed shaking his head. “Boss is just making good on a bad situation.”  

Vivienne whipped her head to glare at the Qunari. “ You will address me as Enchanter Vivienne or Madame de Fer. Not ‘Viv’. Is that understood?”  

“Oh! Right, ma’am...” Bull said in surprise then went rigid when the Enchanter narrowed her manicured brow further. “Sorry, ma’am.”  

“Hmmm. Yes, ‘ma’am’ works as well.”  

They soon arrived at the house or rather what remained of it. Briefly, it appeared to be an old farmhouse with a stable that was now falling apart. A shed next door had two large crates containing supplies. Amanatha was kneeling before the locked door as she removed her lockpicks from her pocket and set to work. She suddenly shuddered just as Cole squinted his eyes slightly and lowered his head as though trying to avoid being blinded. “It’s brighter here. Glittering. Glaring. Glinting...”  

“It’s a mild tremor in the Veil, Cole. Nothing to worry about.” Solas said reassuringly. “Focus on what is here, in this world.”  

“But... what is here?” The spirit questioned uncertainly.  

Amanatha grinned as the lock clicked open before she rose to her feet, dusting herself off and she turned towards Cole. “Feel the ground beneath your feet, little brother, the breath in your lungs and the rustling of the fabric on your skin.” Cole took a breath and seemed to settle down. “Better?”  

“Thank you.” He nodded meekly.  

She smiled as she lightly patted his shoulder and wandered inside. However, she really wished she hadn’t. There were several bodies laying on display on the floor. All were wearing the uniform of the Inquisition. She shook her head in disappointment at the waste of life. She knelt down beside the body of one soldier, a letter clutched in his hand. She closed her eyes in apology before prying the crumpled note out of the dead man’s grasp. She vaguely heard Solas mentioning sending word to Leliana to inform the next of kin for the deceased. She unfolded the parchment listening to the others patrol the perimeter and furrowed her brow. It’s not our place to disagree. They’re attempting to set themselves up along the shore, and we have orders. We are the sword, not the hand that wields it. You taught me that. If they’re worthy, let them come with the Mercy's Crest. The Blades of Hessarian will listen. You will only get yourself cast out—or worse. She handed the note to Bull.  

“Any thoughts?”  

“The Chargers and I dealt with these guys before, but they usually left us alone. The Mercy’s crest is an amulet made from deepstalker hide and serpentstone.”   

“Deepstalkers... those little rascals are a pain to catch... however,” The Inquisitor glanced at Thestral who chirped at her in anticipation. “Think you can find us some, Thestral?”  

The dracolisk snorted before cantering off towards wherever he was going. Before her companions could question her on where she sent her mount off to, the Inquisitor suggested that they look for serpentstone in the meantime. If they were to find and deal with these bandits, then they should have at least something to keep the bandits from attacking until they found their nest. Thankfully, finding serpentstone wasn’t that hard. The bears that were hunting by the river where the ore was located, however, were another matter. Still, Amanatha had use for the pelts and Iron Bull seemed to enjoy bear meat. They made camp near the river that night.   

“So...” Vivienne began as she watched Solas ignite the kindling he had gathered, “an apostate?”  

Solas nodded curtly. “Yes, Enchanter. We did not train in your Circles.”  

“My dear, I was not talking about the Inquisitor. I was talking about you though now that you brought it up,” The Enchanter hummed glancing at the Dalish Inquisitor who was setting up the tents and was now staring at the human mage in confusion. “I hope you two can take care of yourselves, should we encounter anything outside your experiences.”  

Amanatha snorted but remained silent as did Solas who merely rolled his eyes. He nearly burst into laughter when Thestral trotted up behind Vivienne and dropped three rabbit sized lizards into the woman’s lap. Vivienne, though rather disgusted, kept her cool and stared at the dracolisk who chuffed proudly, expecting praise. Amanatha merely chuckled as she scratched her pet’s chin then collected the scaly eyeless lizards off of the Enchanter. While she worked on skinning the creatures, Bull was leaning over the fire roasting the bear meat for everyone regaling more stories that he and his Chargers had done over the years. It was quite nice listening to stories. It reminded Amanatha of her years growing up with her father.   

“What about you, Boss?” The Qunari asked as Amanatha weaved the deepstalker hide around the mined serpentstones. “Got any interesting stories to share?”  

“I do indeed.” She laughed as she handed each of her teammates an amulet, though Bull could only wear his like a bracelet. “I can tell you all the story on how I met Thestral.”  

The black dracolisk snorted with a disapproving look which quickly changed to a look of glee when the Dalish elf placed the skinned deepstalkers before him and he munched on his dinner contently.   

“I am curious as to how an elf managed to befriend let alone find a dracolisk as they are normally found in Tevinter.” Solas said thoughtfully.  

“Well, there are herds of wild dracolisks throughout Thedas because of Tevinter forces and Orlesian nobles bringing them over. Thestral is a dracolisk from the southern mountains.” The Inquisitor explained as she patted her mount’s shoulder as he ate his meal. “As for finding him, he was being sold at a market near the Emprise de Lione. Father took me there to gather rare herbs when I spotted the dracolisk as a young colt.” She frowned as she ran her fingers along a scar on the animal’s shoulder. “The Orlesians were not kind to him. His handler left a nasty wound on him because he refused to follow orders.”  

“A spirited one. I like it!” Bull said nodding at the beast who tossed his head to swallow another lizard.   

“So how did you come to be in possession of him?” Vivienne inquired.  

Amanatha grinned mischievously. “I’m not normally a thief but my father saw that we couldn’t leave the poor thing, so he walked up to the merchant and just began talking shop with him. While he did that, I untied Thestral’s lead and scuttled him towards the outskirts and into the forests where I waited for my father to return.” She laughed when Thestral nuzzled his snout against her cheek, lightly clicking his fangs affectionately. “We tried setting him free but...”  

Solas smiled softly. “You two bonded.”  

“And have been together ever since.” Amanatha stated proudly earning a shrill whinny from Thestral.  

They continued talking throughout the night, regaling stories of past adventures before the Inquisition until one by one, everyone retired to their tents. Except Bull, who volunteered to take the first watch. It was peaceful for most of the night, with the sound of the river washing along the rocks and the sweet scent of raindrops on the trees was a pleasant addition. Solas though had awoken several hours later just before dawn after having difficulty sleeping. He spotted Bull sharpening his battleaxe next to the fire and gave him a nod before leaving the camp to stretch his legs. The mage wandered down to the river where he was far enough away not to be disturbed but close enough to still see the faint glow of the fire. He knelt down by the water’s edge and removed the waterskin hooked at his belt then proceeded to fill it up.   

He jerked his head up when he heard the sound of a twig snapping and warily scanned his surroundings. He finished collecting his water and cautiously turned back towards camp when a whisk of air caught his attention followed by a sharp pinch in his neck. His hand quickly sprung to his neck where he felt a small needle sticking out. He winced as he removed it and found that it had a strange barrel on the end of it along with a strange bluish-green liquid eking out of the needle. He furrowed his brow when he suddenly felt dizzy. He tried to steady himself with his staff but everything started feeling heavy. First his legs gave out from under him and he barely had time to throw his arms out to protect his face as he collapsed on the riverbed. He watched helplessly as his staff clattering just out of reach and whispering voices came up behind him to blindfold and gag him.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Sunlight creeped along the camp as Amanatha was the first to wake up followed by Cole and Vivienne. Iron Bull greeted the trio gruffly and got breakfast going for them. However, the Inquisitor kept staring at Solas’ tent with a frown. Normally, the apostate was up before any of them. She turned towards the Qunari. “Hey, Bull?”  

“Yeah Boss?”  

“Did you see Solas at all this morning before we woke up?”  

The Qunari nodded and glanced towards the river. “He went down to the river two hours before you all woke up. I think he was gathering water or herbs.”  

“Did he say when he would be back?”  

Bull shook his head.  

Amanatha didn’t even bother eating. She made her way down the slope towards the river and immediately grew suspicious. Cole appeared next to her then pointed towards the discarded staff laying abandoned near the water’s edge. Immediately, the elf rushed over to the weapon and glanced at the spirit. Cole knelt down and held out his palm over the weapon as though trying to feel something. “Cloaked, shrouded in shadow. They attacked him from behind.” He said before picking up a strange needle. “Dull, numbing, sharp. Can’t feel my mana. Heavy like lead, hard to breathe. What is this? Why can’t I move?”  

“So, someone ambushed him from behind using a poisoned dart that not only nullified his ability to use magic but also paralyzed him...” Amanatha surmised as Cole finished explaining and the spirit nodded his head. “Think you can point me in the right direction?”  

Cole closed his eyes tightly then pointed towards a mountain east of the camp. “There.”  

“Inquisitor!” She heard Vivienne call out as the Enchanter and the Qunari trudged through the thickets. “Did you find the apostate?”  

“No, but Cole was able to deduce what happened. The Blades of Hessarian ambushed him and kidnapped him. Cole sensed his magic aura east of here over the mountain.” Amanatha said as she collected the staff then rummaged through her pockets until she found the Amulet of Mercy and donned it around her neck. “It’ll take too long for us to get to him by foot.”  

Vivienne shook her head disapproving. “I sincerely doubt Thestral can run that swiftly after the storm last night let alone carry all of us.”  

“True but he can carry you and Bull easily.” Amanatha said as she closed her eyes and glanced at the spot Cole was occupying, “Cole, I need you to get to Solas. See if he’s alright then keep yourself hidden and if you can, keep the Hessarians from hurting him but don’t kill them.”  

The spirit nodded before disappearing through the Fade.  

Before Vivienne or Iron Bull could protest, sapphire blue scales began appearing along the Inquisitor’s arms and they seemed to trail up her body like chainmail. Her neck elongated while the base of her spine twisted and extended into a dragon’s serpentine tail. Dark blue spikes formed behind her head and down the length of her spine as her face too elongated into a more reptilian appearance. Her fingers and toes snapped and reformed, nails lengthening into razor sharp talons. The Inquisitor arched her back as a pair of wings erupted from her shoulder blades in an explosion of iridescent colors, scaly feathers cascading down between the limbs in place of thin membranes. Amanatha fell on all fours, her dragonesque jaws snapping open, displaying her sharp fangs and she let loose a guttural roar that sent shivers down her companion’s spines. She shook her head from side to side as a pair of parallel gold streaks descended along each side of her neck.  

“Well, my dear Inquisitor,” Vivienne began a little breathless from what she had witnessed. “You are certainly full of surprises.”  

Iron Bull just stared as Amanatha turned her neck towards the pair, her reptilian blue-green eyes watching them with brief concern. She snorted before taking to the skies leaving the Enchanter and the Qunari momentarily stunned.  

“Uh... I guess we ride, ma’am.” Bull finally breathed. “Damn... now the respect thing makes more sense.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

He was facing them again, like he did every time he fell into this nightmare. Solas stared up at the group of dragons before him. All seven of them with the largest one being Elgara’nan. The red beast growled at him as he descended from his perch, wings outstretched in a violent display of heat and hate. He approached the wolf that was half his size and the two circled each other. The fur on Solas’ neck bristled, his lips curled back into a threatening snarl and his tail flicked anxiously from side to side. He pinned his ears back as Elgara’nan hissed aggressively.  

“Ir emah'la shal, Fen’Harel!”  

“Ma erui!”  

The wolf attacked first, leaping forward with his intent to sink his fangs into the Evanuris’ throat. The red dragon was faster. Solas let out a pained yelp when Elgara’nan snatched him up with his jaws clamped around his back and stomach. The Dread Wolf let out a pained howl as the jaws encasing him began to slowly crush him. Fangs pierced through his flesh, blood gushing like a wild river from the wound. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. He had to break free! Quickly! In a desperate attack, Solas sank his fangs into the dragon’s snout hard and tried to viciously tear the flesh or anything really to get the bastard to release him. Instead, he let out a choking grasp as the jaws holding him prisoner crushed him further and he screamed as he felt a few of his ribs crack then break under the pressure!  

“Na melana sahlin, Harellan!” Roared Elgara’nan as he threw the Dread Wolf back to the ground.  

Solas let out a pained wheezing whine as he tried to get back on his feet, but his body refused to respond. He was scared now. More so than he had ever been. This was where he was going to die. Someone... Hallani ... He thought weakly. He didn't want to die alone.

He then felt something gently nudging the back of his head and his eyes glanced upwards. Unfortunately, all he saw was a blue blur followed by a roar of anguish from Elgara’nan. “Any ally of the Dread Wolf will be punished by death! Stand aside or die!” The red dragon demanded the newcomer.  

Solas let out a weak groan as he tried to get his eyes to adjust and focus on the newcomer to no avail. Soon its- her- voice rang out with a fierce defiance he had missed hearing. “I will not bow to a tyrant!”  

“You dare defy your gods?! Such insolence!” Elgara’nan shouted as the area began to glow with an uncomfortable heat. Solas heard his ally laugh as she stood protectively over the injured wolf, lightning dancing around her like a protective cloak. Her claws dug into the earth, eyes glowing brightly. “I don’t see a god.” She spat defiantly, a snarl leaving her own throat. “I see the ghost of a man who has deluded himself and countless others.”    

The red beast let loose a terrifying roar and Solas watched in horror as Elgara’nan lunged at her, but she was ready for the attack. She sank her fangs into the god’s nose, dug her claws further into the ground beneath her and pulled back against the resistance, leaving a nasty wound on her adversary’s snout. Blood spurt from the wound as he reared back in pain, the rest of the pantheon rushing to tend to their injured company. Using the distraction, the strange dragon slid under the injured wolf, adjusted him so that he was resting comfortably on her back, and she took off to find refuge for them both. As she flew off, they heard the other dragons roaring in anger .  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Solas groaned weakly as the throbbing in his head finally subsided and opened his eyes expecting to see some form of light but instead, he was met with darkness. He frowned and tried to sit up only to discover that both his arms were tied behind his back. He grunted as he rolled on to his stomach and managed to sit up on his knees. He could hear the bustling of footsteps, overlapping of voices and what sounded like dogs barking. The mage suddenly remembered what had happened earlier. He had gone to the river to gather some water when he was ambushed from behind. Where he was being held, he did not know. The position he was in also brought back some unpleasant memories of his youth. He shuddered. I don’t know what is more humiliating: me getting outsmarted by humans or dealing with Anduril’s wrath . He frowned and twitched his ears as three sets of footsteps approached him, and he heard the sound of a metal door opening and shutting, making him realize that he was in a cell or some kind of room.  

“Here he is boss. The leader of the Inquisition, just like you asked.” A young male voice said almost proudly.  

Solas felt a pair of hands behind his head as someone untied the blindfold, and the fabric glided away from his eyes. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the afternoon light and he looked up to find three men staring at him, but it was the man in the center that had his attention as he was the one who spoke next. “You idiot!” The leader smacked his subordinate upside the head. “This knife-ear isn’t the Inquisitor. The leader of the Inquisition is an ELF WOMAN !”  

“Oh... oops...” The subordinate winced. “Well, the Inquisitor should be on her way to save her husband anyway so, no big deal.”  

Solas rolled his eyes. They thought of me as the Inquisitor? What a bunch of idiots. He then stubbornly fought the blush attempting to creep on his face at the second comment. Wait, husband?! Do they think she and I are- Are they really this stupid? The ropes binding his arms were tight as he tried to summon some of his magic to burn the material only to lift his head to the sky when his sensitive ears caught a roar in the distance. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one who heard the sound. His captors, having grown curious about the sounds approaching, soon left him in what he now realized was a large cage. The sound of flapping wings was also heard in the distance accompanied by loud roar that reminded him of rolling thunder.  

Then he saw her.  

She dove into the camp like a missile, skidding to a halt within the center of the fort, her wings catching the sun like a suncatcher. She swung her tail knocking most of the Hessarians off their feet, lightning and fire dancing around her body like a shield. Solas blinked once, then twice. The creature before him was from his dream a while back. How could he forget? The parallel gold streaks along either side of her neck flickered and glittered like polished gold. However, he was surprised to see that she was here in the flesh. Furthermore, he was surprised to find what looked to be an amulet of mercy around her neck, but he did not have time to dwell on the matter as he felt a slight tug on his arms behind him.  

“Cole?” He asked, sensing the spirit manifesting behind him.  

The spirit drew his knife and cut the apostate’s bindings before whispering. “She is here too but changed. Told me to help you but I have to help the Iron Bull.”  

Solas nodded briskly, keeping his hands behind him, maintaining the illusion that he was still bound as the spirit once again disappeared. The dragon growled as she slowly made her way towards the leader of the Hessarian warriors and folded her wings to her body. “I believe you have a companion of mine.” The dragon spoke with her fangs bared and her body poised, ready to fight. Solas shook his head in disbelief as he recognized the beast’s voice and yet he was not sure why he was not surprised either.  

The leader of the Hessarians narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “A talking... dragon?”  

“You already know who I am.” Amanatha spoke once more. “Leader of the Inquisition, I am.”  

“What sorcery is this? I expected an elven bitch not a scaly monster.”  

Amanatha laughed softly bringing a paw to her maw. “A monster, am I? How rude. I prefer the term shapeshifter.” The leader of the Hessarians suddenly lunged at her, bringing down his battleaxe to embed it into her shoulder only to flinch when her tail whipped around to block the blow. She then wrapped her tail around the man’s ankle and tossed him into his own throne delighting in the shattering wood. “It is impolite to interrupt someone when they are speaking to you. Solas?”  

“Aye?” The apostate called back as he opened the doors to his cell, ice dancing along his palm in a threatening display as the Inquisitor reverted back to her more familiar form and began dusting the dirt and woodchips off of her shoulder.  

“Do you wish to teach this brute some manners or shall I?”  

"If you do not mind, I would deal with him myself." He said and she moved aside for him. The mage did not need any more prompting as he drew a rune of ice in the air and within moments, the leader of the Hessarian was reduced to nothing more than a pile of snow. Amanatha approached the apostate and took his wrists as though assessing the damage. “Remind me, Inquisitor, when we return to Skyhold I believe I owe one of your questions an answer and you owe me one. But first and foremost: thank you.”  

Amanatha grinned. "Anytime Solas. Are there any other injuries I should know about?"

"I am fine, Inquisitor." Solas grumbled. "It is mostly my pride that has been wounded. How humiliating it must be for you to see me in such a state."

"Least they left you with your clothes on."

Solas opened his mouth then closed it before opening it again to reply with a sheepishly chuckle. "That... is a valid point."

Chapter Text

To their relief, the return to Skyhold was much less exciting. Amanatha was more than patient with her companions and advisors when they learned from Iron Bull about her other form, and she answered their question, but Solas knew that she wasn’t giving them the full truth. More than likely, she was trying to keep certain secrets away from the Inquisition as a means to continue protecting her clan. The young woman was soon able to slip away where she met Solas in her room on the balcony. The two admired the still impressive view of the mountains, the cold air a pleasant respite from the still lingering threat that was Corypheus. After a few more moments of meditative silence, Solas was the first to speak. 

“The answer to your question when we were in Haven?” 

“Which one in particular?” She inquired as she watched a hawk fly overhead, screeching excitedly. 

“The one in regards to me being a shapeshifter.” He clarified as he followed her line of sight. “I can indeed turn into an animal. A wolf in particular.” 

“Well, I think that form suits you.”  

Solas rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Pray tell, why do you think that?” 

She turned to face him, a bright smirk on her face. “Wolves are protective, but they are vicious to their enemies. They are loyal to those they trust though wary around strangers.” 

Solas chuckled shaking his head. There was one thing he wanted to correct her on, but he thought better of it. They wandered back inside, and he leaned his back against the couch while watching her disappear into her closet to change into something more comfortable. “Do you recall when we first met? How you asked if we had met before?” 

She emerged out of the closet in a nice dark blue tunic and dark brown slacks. “I remember and I still feel like we have met, but I can’t quite recall where and I usually remember any face I meet, whether in the Fade or in the waking world.” 

“Are you saying I am impressionable?” He teased her earning a playful laugh in return. 

“Oh, most certainly!” She answered as she leaned back against his chest returning the tease. “How could I not? Such grace and intellect are a rarity, even among the Elvhen.” 

Solas cleared his throat, another blush forming on his cheeks and creeping up to the tips of his ears. This woman certainly knew how to push his buttons in the best way. He even lamented to himself when she pulled away from him. Amanatha made her way up the ladder leading to her miniature library with the apostate in tow. “Do you remember facing against a demon of regret at all?” 

Amanatha climbed up the ladder scanning and tracing the spines of the books as she thought about Solas’ question. She plucked what appeared to be one of Varric’s novels and descended from her perch. “I remember coming across a demon before arriving at the Conclave...” She recalled thoughtfully, her mind wandering to the memory, but it felt broken. Like something was missing. “I also remember someone calmly facing it, but I can’t recall their face... It’s blurry.”  

Solas tilted his head as he reached for a small book behind her and glanced at the cover smirking in amusement. Tales of Fen’Harel ? He thought shaking his head before opening it up to find what looked to be tales of his adventures. Or at least what the Dalish thought were some of his adventures. “Blurry?” He asked her, turning the pages of his book. 

“Yeah... The same thing happens when I try to sift through my memories at the Conclave.” She said opening her book, eyes glancing at a particular chapter and frowned. “It’s like something was stripped from me. Like trying to grasp smoke. But I’m not worried.” 

“Why is that?” 

She looked up from her book noticing the curious gaze upon the man’s features and grinned. “In time they’ll return.”  

Solas was about to speak once more when a knock at her door caught their attention. Amanatha heaved a sigh when she heard Josephine’s voice. As the ambassador strolled on in, she looked up at the loft overhead and informed her that Varric was waiting for her on the battlements. She sighed silently, placed a feather between the pages of her book and returned it to the bookshelf. She rose from her nest of pillows and made her way down the ladder. She was not surprised to see Solas follow her out of the room. She figured the mage would part ways with her and return to the rotunda but to her genuine surprise, he accompanied her to the battlements where they met up with Varric. The dwarf leaned against the banister as the two elves joined him and he smiled slightly as more sets of footsteps approached them. However, Varric’s expression turned to one of shock. 

“What the- What are you two doing here?!” Exclaimed the dwarf, causing the Inquisitor and the apostate to turn their attention to their newest company. 

Standing at the top of the stairs was a human woman with fiery gold eyes and beside her was a tan elven man with strange bluish-white tattoos on his face and body. The woman was the first to speak. “Not even going to introduce us, Varric?” 

Varric flapped his jaws, but no words came out until he shook his head and cleared his throat. “Uh... Inquisitor? Solas. This is Anara Hawke, Riordan Hawke’s twin sister. Both are Champions of Kirkwall. The broody elf there is her husband, Fenris.” 

“Though we hardly use those titles anymore and most often my big brother is the one whom everyone is fond of.” Hawke sighed. “Nice to meet you.” 

Fenris merely huffed but offered a polite bow. 

“Where’s Riordan?” Varric finally asked in confusion. “I received his letter stating that he was going to be the one meeting us. Wait! Did something happen? Is Merril alright?” 

Anara laughed softly. “Riordan and Merril are fine. The little ones though, arrived sooner than expected though, hence why we’re here instead.” 

“Andraste’s flaming nickers! I didn’t know she was that far along! Boys or girls?”  

Fenris spoke this time in amusement. “Two boys and one girl.” 

“Yeah, Brother is going to have his hands full, and Bethany was there too and she’s absolutely beside herself with joy.” Anara laughed shaking her head. “Merrill is well and healthy too. You should visit them when you get the chance. Riordan is already calling you Uncle Varric.”  

“Ass... He totally would do that.” The dwarf scoffed but he was smirking, nonetheless. 

Solas cleared his throat. “While the Inquisitor and I are ecstatic for the glorious news upon the new arrivals of Hawke’s now growing family, might we get down to business?”  

Amanatha giggled slightly, finding the levity refreshing, but Solas was right. The dwarf coughed slightly in apology. He took his leave, allowing the Champion of Kirkwall and her husband to get acquainted with the Inquisitor and the apostate. The four of them stood in silence for a while before Amanatha finally decided to speak. “So, Varric said you and your brother faced Corypheus before?” 

“You dropped a half a mountain on the bastard.” Anara pointed out. “I’m sure anything I can tell you pales in comparison.” 

“We didn’t just face him.” Said Fenris narrowing his eyes, shaking his head. “We fought and killed him.” 

Solas and Amanatha turned to look at each other than glanced back at the two warriors. “Then... how did-” 

“The Grey Wardens were holding him within a strange cell, and he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them. Got into their heads, messed with their minds and got them to fight amongst each other.” Anara surmised before frowning further and rubbed her chin in thought. “And if the Wardens have disappeared, they could have fallen under his control again.” 

When the Inquisitor inquired if there was a way to reverse the effects, both Fenris and Anara shrugged their shoulders. They were at a loss, and they weren’t entirely sure if there was a way to reverse. Hawke then mentioned that she had a friend in the Wardens. Apparently, this ally of theirs had already begun seeking answers about the corrupted Wardens but until Anara’s younger sister returned her letter, the Inquisition would have to wait until they could continue their investigation on Corypheus. Amanatha ran her hand through her black tresses in annoyance. Just when she thought they were making progress, they were set back once more. Still, at least they had some more help. From what Anara told them, Corypheus had at one point been sealed away thanks to the Wardens using the blood of Hawke’s father to bind him. As luck would have it, that bloodline was also the only way to release him. Fenris added that they were tricked into going to the trapped Tevinter’s prison because of the corrupted Carta, dwarves who ran black markets and were the local thugs of Orzamaar. According to the tan elf, they used Anara’s brother Riordan to undo the binding, which explained how Corypheus was defeated the first time. 

“He sounded absolutely ridiculous. He had a high squeaky voice and to be honest, I think Anara, Riordan and I struggled to keep a serious expression when fighting him.” Fenris chuckled alongside the Champion of Kirkwall. 

Anara snickered, covering her mouth to stifle the laugh. “Yeah, honestly thought we’d die laughing. I still can’t believe he sounded like that.” 

“Trust me... he sounds a lot more terrifying now than you realize.” Amanatha grimace, absentmindedly rubbing her left wrist. 

“Not to change the subject,” Solas began before gesturing to the strange tattoos on Fenris’ neck and arms, “but those markings... they wouldn’t happen to be slave markings, would they?” 

Hawke turned her head towards Fenris who seemed to beckon tense at the question. “Aye.” 

“I’ve seen slave markings before, but nothing like those. They look more like scars than tattoos.” Amanatha pointed out. “And why do they glow slightly? Is that lyrium I sense?” 

“You are surprisingly more observant than you appear, Inquisitor but yes, you would be correct in that assumption. The markings are in fact lyrium burned into my flesh to provide the power phase through solid objects.” The elvhen warrior nodded in surprise as he held his arm instinctively. “I did not receive these markings by choice; however, they have served me quite well.” 

“And it got us out of more situations than we could count.” Hawke smirked lightly elbowing the elf who smiled fondly at her.  

Amanatha smiled a little at the exchange. “Do they hurt?” 

“Sometimes but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Fenris shrugged then glanced once more back at Hawke. “Besides, I have someone who helps soothe the pain.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

While the Inquisition waited for Hawke’s informant and after Amanatha managed to break up a fight between Cassandra and Varric, Solas was at the tavern for once needing a change of scenery and mostly due to the fact that the Inquisitor had warned him of a potential Sera-prank that might occur if he remained in the rotunda. He was sitting at a table in the corner watching Varric, the Iron Bull and his Chargers talking with Hawke, Fenris and Amanatha animatedly. From the conversation, it seemed as though they were regaling stories. He quietly ate the warm ram stew the tavern owner cooked while listening to the conversations on his right. 

“So, let me get this straight,” The Inquisitor chuckled, “You tricked Fenris’ old master into thinking you were going to give him up only to have Fenris finish him off as soon he was close enough?” 

Hawke snickered. “Well, only after I requested, he have his guards leave the three of us alone as an act of good faith.” 

“I’m still amazed he genuinely fell for it.” The lyrium warrior scoffed as he downed his drink. “Though I did not appreciate being the bait.” 

“At least I let you in on the plan.” 

“True.” 

Amanatha laughed softly as she finished her drink then turned to spot the sun setting outside. She rose from her chair bidding everyone a good night before making her rounds along Skyhold like she had been doing for the past few months now. It became routine for her. Solas recalled that she often patrolled the outskirts of Skyhold mainly to ensure everyone was safe and sound. Solas then felt the presence of another sitting in the chair beside him and turned his head to find the Champion of Kirkwall sitting next to him. “Can I assist you, Hawke?” 

“You keep staring at her.” She said with a grin then clarified her words. “The Inquisitor that is.” 

Solas felt his brow furrow slightly. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I’m not judging. Just saying you have good taste.” She chuckled and the apostate rolled his eyes. 

“My affairs are not your concern.” 

Anara suddenly laughed out loud. “By the Maker, you really have no sense of humor. It’s eerily similar to my husband in broodiness.” 

“I’m not brooding.” Solas protested at the comment. 

It was Hawke’s turn to roll her eyes. “No, of course not. Why else would a man such as yourself wear such a scowl around others except when in the presence of someone they are interested in?” 

Solas was about to make a remark when Hawke quickly returned to her table laughing as Fenris pulled her close to him. The apostate wasn’t sure what brought the behavior on, but he decided to chock it up to the drinks. Deciding he had his fill of rowdiness; Solas left the tavern and was making his way towards the main building when he noticed just how late it had gotten. The moon was almost full, shining high in the sky, bathing the empty courtyard in a beautiful pale white light. The stars were glittering overhead and with everyone at the tavern or in their barracks for the night, the area was quiet, peaceful even. He soon spotted someone else enjoying the moonlight and before he could stop himself, made his way towards her. 

He found Amanatha laying on the grass staring up at the endless sea of stars, only to tilt her head back to glance at the apostate. “Ah, had your fill of the noise too I see.”  

“Yes. Hawke seems to be hinting at something, though what that something is, I haven’t the slightest.” He huffed before looking down at the elf woman. “What exactly are you doing?” 

“Star gazing.” She replied. “You are more than welcomed to join me.” 

He contemplated her offer for a moment. He still had work to do but the look in her eyes made his mind go blank and he joined her on the grass, laying next to her as the twinkling lights above sparkled and glittered like diamonds. He felt her arm brush against his when she pointed at a cluster of stars to their left. “Look! Those stars look like a baby halla!” She giggled tracing an outline. “See the curly antlers?” 

He hummed thoughtfully as he could faintly make out the image. In truth, he had never given much star gazing much thought other than to get his bearings when he traveled at night. Most of the time when the dusk of evening crawled around, the apostate merely found shelter and went to sleep, journeying back into the Fade seeking wisdom. This was a new experience for him. He followed her fingers as she pointed out several other clusters. One looked like two figures dancing, and another reminded him of the tree of knowledge. Soon, another cluster caught his eye, and he pointed towards them. “Those clusters look like two wolves howling at the heavens.”  

“Oh yeah! They do!” Amanatha smiled brightly. 

Solas lowered his arm laughing softly. “I’ve never done this before.” 

“Really? Not even on your travels?” She asked in astonishment as he shook his head at her question. “My father took me stargazing a lot when mother left us. He told me, if I ever felt lost or alone while traveling all I had to do was look up at the stars. I didn’t quite understand it at first until I began my travels. He was telling me that in a world so full of life I was only as alone as I chose to feel. Seeing the stars above reminds me that there are people out there I care about and friends I haven’t met yet.” 

The apostate closed his eyes. “That’s a nice thought.” He said before sitting up with the Inquisitor mirroring him and he stared up back at the sky. “Though I still feel alone.” 

He felt Amanatha’s hand slip into his through the grass and she smiled sympathetically. “You aren’t alone anymore. I’m here.” She said before she blushed brightly and averted her eyes from his. “I mean... if that’s alright. Or rather... um so long as you don’t or aren’t seeing someone.” She froze when she felt his lips on her forehead.  

“ Ma serannas, vhenan .” He whispered before he retired for the night glancing over his shoulder as she beamed at him, her beauty only made more pronounced by the moonlight around her. He returned her smile before walking back inside the rotunda where he looked up at the blank wall before him. Smiling, he collected his paint and brushes then started crafting a new mural. 

Chapter Text

“Why is it always raining when we travel?” Blackwood grumbled, tugging his hood over his head before turning towards Lavellan who was scanning the skies. Solas seemed to be sensing the same thing as he too turned his head towards the sky. The clouds were strange, and the lake below was churning violently, with green lightning crackling off in the center of the water.  

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, Blackwall.” Dorian huffed. “I heard rain is good for the soul.” 

“This storm is not natural...” The Inquisitor observed as she ignored the two men bantering, feeling her palm tingling in response. “That’s a rift out there and it's causing the storm.” 

Harding suddenly jogged over to the group, huffing as she caught her breath. The dwarf soon brought them up to speed. She explained that Crestwood suffered from a horrible flood during the Fifth Blight almost ten years ago. She went on to explain that the rift in the lake was not the only one in the area and to further complicate matters, corpses began emerging from the lake and have been rampaging through the town. Harding then stated that Hawke and Fenris were at a cave on the opposite side of the town waiting for them. With her report finished, the dwarf scampered off with her crew to continue gathering more information. 

“I remember seeing the Hero of Fereldan passing through here during the Blight.” Solas commented as Lavellan guided them along the soggy road leading to the town.  

“I believe you mentioned that you saw him and Alistair light the signal fire.”  

Solas pursed his lips in a tight smile. “In a memory of the Fade, yes.” 

She raised a brow at him before hearing the sounds of a scuffle ahead. She quickly drew her bow before sprinting off. She shivered when she felt Solas cast a barrier around her, still not entirely used to having another’s magic surround her but she did not have time to dwell on it as she found several lumbering corpses attacking a group of soldiers. But not just any soldiers. Grey Wardens. The silver gryphons on their backs were more than a clear indicator. Amanatha unleashed three lightning arrows, each one hitting one corpse causing an electrical current to spark between the corpses and the undead bodies exploded into piles of ash. 

The leader of the small band of Wardens turned to face the Inquisitor and her men before he lowered his weapon. “The Grey Wardens thank you for your aid, Inquisitor Lavellan.” 

“What brings the Grey Wardens out here to Crestwood?” She inquired, lowering her bow slightly. 

The Warden folded his arms over his chest. “We are looking for a Warden by the name of Stroud. We also heard reports that the Hero of Fereldan was also in the area and had orders to detain both of them for questioning. We tried asking the town for information, but they have problems of their own.” 

“Why are you after them exactly?” The elf woman pressed curiously while fluttering her eyelids. 

“I’m afraid I do not know. Only that Warden-Commander Clariel has orders for their arrest.” The man replied before walking around her. “Excuse me, Lady Inquisitor but my comrades and I must continue the search. Perhaps we will cross paths again.” 

Once the Wardens were out of sight, Amanatha rested her chin on the back of her hand. Something seemed off about the Wardens, but she was unsure what that was. As far as she knew, if a Warden was passing through and spotted danger, they would assist at the drop of a hat. Something strange was going on indeed. However, a scream from the village pulled her from her thoughts and she barked an order at her companions as they rushed towards Crestwood. Unfortunately for the Inquisition, it wasn’t just corpses attacking the town, but also shades and wraiths. Luckily, they weren’t too much trouble. As Amanatha slew the final shade, she sneezed from being drenched by the rain and shivered. While applying a warming spell on herself, she overheard townsfolk mentioning that the dead were rising from where Old Crestwood was located which was at the bottom of the lake. 

“We should find the mayor of the town.” Dorian suggested as he pointed to a stately home ahead. “Maybe he can provide some answers as well as a warm fire. I’m soaked to the bone! Why must the south be so cold?!” 

“What’s the matter, Dorian? I thought Tevinters pride themselves at adaptability.” Amanatha teased as they made their way to the manor. 

“I’ll have you know, we mages from Tevinter are in fact adaptable!” Dorian preened only to shiver and pulled his cloak tightly around himself. “Although, I now see why you southerners wear so much fur clothes.” 

Amanatha rolled her eyes and shook her head as they found the mayor’s home easy enough. Before she even raised her hand to knock, the door swung open, and an older gentleman invited them inside. Dorian wasted no time making his way to the fire and warming himself up, sighing in relief. While her companions rested from their trek through the mud and from dealing with the undead, Amanatha sat at a table across from the mayor who passed her a warm cup of tea. “Do you have any idea how to stop the dead from rising and raiding what is left of our town, Inquisitor?” 

“We need to get to the rift that resides under the lake. Do you happen to know what resides under the waves?” She inquired after taking a sip of her tea. 

“The light on the lake?” The mayor frowned. “Must be coming from the caves below Old Crestwood... Darkspawn flooded it ten years ago during the Blight. It wiped out the village, killing the refugees we took in.” 

“I noticed a dam while traversing the road. If we could drain the lake, then I can get to the Fade rift and seal it.” 

The mayor’s eyes widened in horror. “Drain the- No! There has to be another way.” 

“I’m afraid not, my friend.” Dorian started, turning his head. “Not unless we swim and even then, I sincerely doubt the Inquisitor can hold her breath that long.” 

The mayor sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He informed them of a fort that connected to the dam, but it was currently overrun by bandits. He offered her a small bronze key that would open the mechanism that controlled the dam’s canals. She tucked the key into her pocket before calling out to her companions. As they wandered back into the storm, the group began following the back roads to the fort. Unfortunately, the storm overhead intensified and it was becoming difficult to see despite it being almost noon. “We must find shelter!” Blackwall shouted over the howling winds.  

“I’m inclined to agree! I can’t even tell if we are on the right path!” Solas hissed as the rain pelted the group. Amanatha shielded her eyes, shaking her hair that was sticking to her face. 

Her eyes caught something in the distance. It looked like a cave, and it was just within walking distance. “There’s a cave up ahead! Keep close!”  

She carefully guided them off the road, ushering them under cover. She was the last one to enter the cave when they soon realized they were not alone in the cave. They could hear the pitter-patter of many legs skittering on the floor and along the walls. The hungry snapping of pinchers also caught their attention and Amanatha was the first one to groan. “Spiders...” She grumbled. She really hated spiders. It also didn’t help that they kept trying to crawl on her and her companions. Blackwall and Dorian had just finished taking care of the trio of arachnids near the entrance while Solas dealt with incinerating the nest in the back of the cave when Amanatha spotted a shadow moving above the apostate. Before she knew it, her body was moving on its own.  

“SOLAS!”  

His only warning of danger was when the Inquisitor suddenly ran into him and shoved him towards the wall just as a massive spider as white as freshly fallen snow and the size of a cave bear descended from the ceiling attempting to pounce on him. Amanatha had rolled onto her back just in time to be pinned down by the white arachnid. She was using a pair of daggers to fend off the creature, but its sheer weight was too much for her as it snapped its mandibles, nearly missing her face. The spider chittered loudly before sinking its fangs into her piercing through her right shoulder and proceeded to inject its venom into her body. She yelled in pain as she felt a mixture of both freezing and electrifying sensations course through her body painfully. Soon the weight of the animal was forced off of the Inquisitor as the apostate sent a current of lightning through its body causing it to release its prey and curl up into a grotesque ball. Blackwall and Dorian did not waste any time cutting the beast into pieces but as the Tevinter studied the arachnid, he visibly paled. 

“Shit. It’s a Minrathous White Widow!” 

Whatever that meant would have to wait, for Amanatha was starting to convulse from the venom now coursing through her. Solas was already trying to expunge the poison from her with a spell but, like the others, was too tired and had nearly no energy to help her. He stared at the wound on her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the blackish green venom still oozing from the bite that was now making some of the blood vessels more visible and tainted the same color.  

“What is a White Widow, Dorian and how do we help her? Speak quickly!” 

Dorian swallowed nervously. “They’re giant white spiders from my homeland. They usually occupy the caves or sewers. Their venom is akin to having liquid ice forced into your body.” 

Solas glared at him. “How do we treat it?” 

“Ah... yes... well you may not like the answer.” Dorian shifted uncomfortably. 

“Dorian!” 

Blackwall turned towards Solas and frowned. “Heat.” He stated in a blunt tone. “You have to share body heat through skin on skin once you pulled as much venom as you can out. Overheat the body if you will. The venom thrives when the victim is cold, weak or both. It can’t withstand high temperatures.” 

Solas frowned, mortified, but managed to draw more mana from the Fade, though it left him with a splitting headache and continued to squelch as much poison as he could from the Inquisitor until only a small amount was visible. Amanatha’s teeth chattered as the convulsions ceased but her breathing came out in short, labored pants. Dorian handed Solas the Warden’s cloak along with his own while he got a fire going near the entrance to the cave with Blackwall standing guard at the mouth of the lair. Solas carefully hauled Amanatha towards a dark corner in the back of the cave. He hung the cloaks between the walls to create some form of privacy then quickly removed his bedroll from his pack along with hers. She stuttered softly, her eyes still sealed tightly. The elf cautiously moved Amanatha on to the furs only for his ears to twitch when she spoke in her delirium. It sounded like a name. He strained to listen as she whimpered and shivered. 

“Sethius Amladaris...” She repeated weakly.  

He was unsure why, but he felt the name was important and quickly jotted it down in his notebook. He then cringed when the woman shivered violently, reminding him that she was not out of danger yet. Solas muttered a string of apologies as he meticulously removed her armor. However, he left her with her underclothes not wanting her to be in a panic if she awoke anytime soon. He cursed Blackwall’s words, finding it highly inappropriate, but shrugged off his tunic and folded it neatly before slipping it under Amanatha’s head as a makeshift pillow. He methodically draped her bedroll on top of her then carefully laid down beside her under the blanket. He shivered when her cold clammy skin touched his own but dutifully pulled her close to him already feeling her warming up if only slightly. When she whimpered again, he instinctively caressed her cheek, words of reassurance leaving his lips as the Elvhen woman quieted once more. 

It was the rustling of the makeshift curtain that alerted Solas to Dorian’s presence and the apostate lifted his head, eyes alert and magic ready to fire if needed. “Thought you might like a little supper, Solas.” The Tevinter hummed as he handed him a bowl of stew and some bread. Careful not to move too far or wake her, Solas sat up and accepted the meal. “She’s regaining color. Good.” 

“Her breathing is still a little shallow but she’s no longer shivering. How long was I out?” 

“Several hours actually. It’s nighttime outside. Still dismal due to the rain but other than that, its been rather cheery.”  

Solas rolled his eyes as he ate quietly. Once he had his fill, he recalled the name Amanatha muttered and reached for his pack. He then offered the journal to the human mage who took the parcel in confusion. When Solas motioned for him to open it, Dorian’s eyes widen at the name written on the page. “I recognize this name...” He said, “but how did you come by it?”  

The elf flicked his eyes towards the sleeping woman beside him. “She said it in her delirium. Perhaps it might help us in the future.” 

“Well, whatever the case may be, I will let you continue nursing her back to health. Let me know when she wakes up and I’ll have another bowl of stew ready for her.” 

And with that, Dorian left him alone again. He sighed before turning his attention back to Amanatha. The Inquisitor still had shallow breaths, but she had more color in her cheeks at least. He laid back down, relief flooding his mind as the woman no longer felt cold to the touch though he did feel his heart skip a beat when she snuggled close to him and rested her head against his chest. He yawned softly deciding not to dwell on it and instead drifted back to sleep unaware that he had wrapped his arm around the Inquisitor.  

He awoke just before dawn and like clockwork, turned his head to check on Amanatha. He released another sigh when he felt her forehead and found that she was at a normal body temperature and her breathing was a strong steady rhythm. He untangled himself from her and retrieved his tunic from under her. She finally woke up a half hour later in dazed confusion but after dressing back into her armor, Solas informed her of what had happened. She frowned. “I told you spiders don’t like me.” 

“Dually noted, Inquisitor.” Solas remarked watching her roll up the bedrolls.  

With the Inquisitor feeling much better and everyone rested, they made their way to the fort. The bandits proved to be more a nuisance than a threat as they were completely eradicated by the three mages. As they waited for the rest of the Inquisition soldiers to show up, Amanatha and Blackwall opted to check out what looked to be a basement which actually led down to the dam. When the two entered the building and after reprimanding a young couple for their poor taste in rendezvous locations, Blackwall and Amanatha found the controls to the damn. However, Amanatha cocked her head in confusion. According to the mayor, the darkspawn had supposedly destroyed the controls ten years ago, but they looked properly cared for as well as expertly oiled. Not wanting to waste any more time, the Inquisitor had Blackwall assist her with the controls.  

There was a subtle trembling throughout the building followed by the muffled sound of rushing water. Upon exiting the building, Amanatha felt her heart sink at the sight beyond the damn. Shambled houses littered the base of the near empty lakebed. She and her company descended to the ruins of Old Crestwood finding the stench of wet rot and death permeated the air. More corpses and spirits were seen lumbering about the once great streets. There were piles of bodies still littering the shambled houses. They were in what looked to be a town square when a rift suddenly tore open causing corporeal shades to pour through, along with demons of despair wailing and reflecting the grief of the lost souls. A demon of wrath also emerged, radiating such immense heat from its hatred that it almost burnt Dorian’s robes. Green ribbons of Fade magic danced from the Inquisitor’s hand as she weaved the threads to seal the rift only to shake her wrist when the energy left her hand numb. “So much wonton death and pain...” She muttered as she examined the bodies before her. “But... if this was caused by darkspawn, why would the spirits and undead clamor towards the village?” 

Blackwall shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows.” 

“What plagues your mind Natha, my dear?” Dorian noted as he looked down at the bodies. 

Amanatha shook her head. “Something isn’t adding up. The mayor said that darkspawn destroyed the controls to the dam but when we got there, the controls were just fine, just merely locked up.” She then pointed to some spirits lingering about but calling about something. “Then there are these spirits that keep lingering and staring up at the village. Some even possessed the bodies of the dead and clamored up to Crestwood, yet they only attacked the townsfolk when they tried cutting them down. Why?” 

“You surmise that someone at the village is responsible for the deaths here and that the darkspawn are just the scapegoat?”  

“Precisely.” Amanatha nodded as they strolled up a beaten path leading into the caves. "My money is on the mayor of the village. I'll have Leliana look into it."

The caves smelled even worse than the village! It was damp and moldy too as they trekked through the winding tunnels with only the mages using Veilfire as a source of light. They found several caves with more bodies within them. Some were the size of infants or young children. Despite the grisly sight, the Inquisitor and her companions made it to the rift. It was located within an abandoned dwarven thaigh but unlike the others, this one was harder to close. When Amanatha thought she had sealed it, the rift would split open once more with stronger demons than before. Upon the third attempt, they had to deal with a large pride demon that nearly got the best of them until Amanatha held up her left hand and opened the rift once more, causing it to become ensnared by the Fade’s threads. With a sharp tug, the demon was forced back to the realm behind the Veil and without skipping a beat, Amanatha sealed the rift once and for all.  

“Everyone alright?” 

“A little flesh wound.” Blackwall grunted as he rubbed the cut on his head. 

Dorian was busy hauling Solas to his feet when he let out a shriek at the sight of a strange looking creature with floppy ears. Solas shook his head. “Afraid of nugs, are we?”  

“You have no idea how destructive those little beasts can be!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

They decided to return to Crestwood after meeting with Hawke and her informant. With the bandits already dealt with, the roads were relatively peaceful. They even came across an old cache with a strange hilt which fascinated Solas to no end. In fact, the apostate was still examining the sword hilt while they rode towards their destination. “You’ve been examining that thing since we found it , Solas.” Amanatha laughed as she heard the elf make another fascinated hum. “Care to enlighten us?” 

Solas hooked the hilt to his belt and grinned. “It is an ancient relic from the golden age of Arlathan. It’s actually a staff that functions as a sword.” 

“So, not so different from the daggers I used to wield... still pissed off they were lost in Haven...” She grumbled but shrugged. “Can you tell what element it is?” 

The apostate nodded. “Lightning is its base, but the rune slot is empty so it can wield another element if one so chooses.” 

“You should wield it.” Amanatha stated with a smirk. 

Solas frowned. “I have a staff.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to have an extra weapon on hand.” 

Solas grumbled as he sensed the subtle hint in her tone. She was right. There was no harm in keeping an extra weapon though he could easily craft one from the Fade. However, considering he nearly lost his arm when dealing with a flock of dragonlings, he knew his luck wouldn’t hold out all the time. “I am a bit unpracticed in wielding a blade.” 

“I can teach you.” Amanatha pointed out then nodded towards Blackwall who was riding beside them on her right. “Blackwall too. Even Iron Bull. You have options.” 

“You make a valid point.” 

They soon spotted Hawke and Fenris at the mouth of a cave and quickly made their way towards them. Fenris was leaning against the wall as Hawke approached them. She confirmed that her contact was in the back of the cave but frowned when the Inquisitor informed her of the other Grey Wardens in the area. She didn’t seem too surprised though she confirmed the suspicions of their intentions. Without wasting time, they strolled into the cave. Upon entering, Amanatha was met with a human wearing a dark mustache and the Warden’s sigil on his chest. He also had a scowl on his face as though he were expecting a fight when another voice, gruffer slightly more gravely spoke up.  

“Oh, put your sword away, Stroud.” Said a dwarf with a long beard. “They’re with Hawke.” 

Amanatha stared at the dwarf curiously. He looked oddly familiar as he sat on a rock sharpening his battleaxe. His beard was braided and pinned by bronze beads and clasps and his eyes were a stunning blue. “You’re the Hero of Fereldan.” 

“Name’s Dalkan, Inquisitor.” He gruffed as he set the whetstone down. “We are at your service.” 

Chapter Text

Leliana was the first to greet the Inquisitor at the gates as the company returned from Crestwood. Upon seeing her old friend, she rushed over and embraced Dalkan so tightly she almost suffocated him. “Oui! Lass! It’s good to see you too but let me go!” Dalkan snarked as he scrambled to escape the spymaster’s iron grip. Once she did release him, the dwarven Warden laughed happily as he shook her hand. Amanatha chuckled at the sudden change in Leliana’s demeanor. She hardly ever saw her so cheerful. She was always so serious and focused. Hawke and Fenris made their way to the tavern, intending to rest after the long journey. The Inquisitor then opted to have everyone reconvene the next morning, deciding to let Leliana catch up with the Hero of Fereldan. Blackwall and the Inquisitor took the mounts back to the stables while Dorian made his way to the library keen on searching through the Tevinter archives he had sequestered from his home to scry for more information on the name Amanatha mentioned while she was sick. This left Solas to his own devices.  

The apostate wandered towards the rotunda, nodding briefly at Varric who seemed to be writing another book. He poked his head into the rotunda cautiously. He just knew Sera was up to something, however whatever it was, he was unsure. Deeming the room safe, Solas approached his desk constantly checking for any traps that the city elf might have placed. He even went so far as to use his magic to scry for anything abnormal. To his relief, there was nothing. He then procured and unrolled a map of Orelais and continued his assessments on the tablets.  

A few hours had gone by, and evening had descended upon Skyhold. The main hall was starting to wind down as everyone finished their meals. Amanatha was carrying a small plate of food to the rotunda since she had overheard the cook mention Solas had not eaten anything since returning to Skyhold. Honestly, it wasn’t the first time according to the rumors whispered among the scullery maids. She lightly rapped on the door and waited in silence. When he didn’t answer, she tried calling his name only to be once again left in silence. She opened the door and quickly covered her mouth to keep from making too much noise. She quickly set the plate down and slowly walked over to the desk. Solas had fallen asleep in his chair, his head resting on his arms over the desktop, his sides rhythmically rising and falling with each breath. In all honesty, Amanatha found it the most adorable thing she had ever seen.  

Not wanting to wake him, she slipped through the door leading to his room and collected one of the blankets from his bed then returned to the apostate. Expertly, she draped the blanket around him over his shoulders then removed his pendant so it wouldn’t cause him any discomfort and set it down on the desk. He stirred slightly but did not wake, not even when she pecked a small kiss on his scalp.  

“Sleep well, Solas.” She said softly before departing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Wait, wait. You mean he was actually in a deep sleep?” Wisdom giggled as Amanatha finished regaling her of the events that had transpired, her feathery wings ruffling in amusement.  

The Inquisitor smiled as she nodded at the spirit. For as long as Amanatha could remember, when she encountered Wisdom, she often saw the spirit as a snowy owl. The spirit shook her head still amused at the situation. “I think he just exhausted himself with everything he piled on his plate.” She noted with a slight frown. “I know he works hard but I think he’s forgetting to take care of himself, absorbed in his research. It is a little concerning. Do you have any advice on how I can help him relax a little?”  

The spirit preened her feathers as she contemplated the woman’s words. “He seems to enjoy having your company. Perhaps start with that. Maybe when you awaken, bring him some nourishment for I am more than certain he will be ravenous as a wolf when he wakes.”  

Amanatha nodded with a smile. “You know, it’s been over twenty years since you and I first met.”  

“Indeed. You were a young child then.” Wisdom’s eyes seemed to smile brightly. “And now look at you. A leader. I am very proud of how much you have grown since then and it warms my soul to know you found someone to love.”  

“Who? Solas?”  

The owl bobbed her head in response. “You said that he kissed you when you shared a dream together.”  

“Well,” Amanatha blushed covering her cheeks in embarrassment, “I was the one who kissed him first. I didn’t not expect him to actually reciprocate.”  

“But now?” Pressed the spirit.  

“I think there may be something there that wasn’t there before.” The elf woman mumbled shyly. “But he requested more time, and I told him I would be patient.”  

She felt Wisdom lift her chin with her wing. “He’ll come around Natha. Of that, I am certain.”  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

The dawn rose sooner than Amanatha would have wanted but deciding to heed Wisdom’s suggestion, she made her way to the kitchens. She greeted the cooks while she got a simple breakfast going for the apostate. Within a few minutes, she had prepared him a simple meal with a small sandwich made with egg salad, a mixture of freshly picked berries and a glass of her favorite blend of iced tea that she hoped would be appealing to Solas. She made her way to the rotunda once more where she found the apostate still asleep at his desk and she shook her head. She closed the door and made her way towards the sleeping man. She rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. Solas let out a tired groan.  

“Good morning.” 

He flinched and jerked his head towards the Inquisitor’s voice before clearing his throat. “Ah, good morning, Inquisitor.” He answered then noticed the tray of food and before he could speak, his stomach growled. He blushed slightly as Amanatha giggled. 

“As I thought,” She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval, “You would be hungry after skipping dinner last night. Here.” She set down the plate for him.  

“Did you make this? For me?” 

She merely nodded then left the room to enjoy his meal in peace. She made her way to the war room where she spotted Stroud and Dalkan also walking towards the room. As they entered the room, Cullen was talking with Josephine while Leliana bowed her head in silent greeting. Once Cassandra joined them, the Inquisitor and her advisors got down to business. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas silently enjoyed his meal as he scanned the map before him. He glanced at one of the tablets he had been researching and scratched his chin in thought. He was certain he was about to crack the secret of the stone when a sip from his drink distracted him, and he peered down at it. The mixture was a dark pink at the bottom and grew lighter towards the top. It had a sweet floral scent as well as a refreshing sweet taste, like a blend of fruit. It paired with his meal perfectly too much to his surprise. He shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he became absorbed in a meal let alone one that was specifically made for him. Setting the now empty glass down, he noticed the tablet he was examining glowing faintly along with the others on a separate table across the room. Having an epiphany, he brought the last one over and began placing the tablets together. There was a strange humming as skull etchings on each one began to glow revealing a hazy map before him. Solas extended both his hands before the map and closed his eyes in concentration. Tendrils of pale blue and green magic poured into the stones causing the map to become clearer and more pronounced.  

“Finally.” He let out a sigh. “Now we know the lock to which these keys open.” 

With his task now complete for now, the apostate opted to take a break. He collected his plate and glass then made his way to the kitchen unaware that Sera had snuck in to his study while he was gone. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

“An archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal.” Dalkan explained as the dwarf shook his head in annoyance. “Stroud here believes this Corypheus bastard possesses the same power.” 

Stroud glanced between Hawke and the Inquisitor. “My investigation uncovered more clues than proof until suddenly all the Grey Wardens in Orelais began to hear the Calling.” 

Amanatha cocked her head to the side. “The Calling?” 

“The Calling is something we Grey Wardens hear.” Dalkan explained. “It tells us when the Blight is about to claim us. It usually starts off as dreams then it progresses into whispers in our heads. Which is ironic for us dwarves since we don’t dream. Anyway, once the Calling begins, we say our goodbyes and head to the Deep Roads to face our death in combat.” 

“So, let me get this straight: all the Grey Wardens in Orelais are hearing this so-called Calling which is making them think that they are dying?” Amanatha summarized, earning a nod from Dalkan and Stroud. “And if the Wardens fall and the next Blight occurs, we’re fucked... but one thing still doesn’t add up. How does Corypheus fit into this riddle?” 

“I don’t think Corypheus is controlling them exactly but merely bluffing.” Dalkan stated. “Mimicking the Calling to make them believe that they are dying. Like playing a song but slightly altered in a way that it sounds the same, but the notes are different to a more experienced mind.” 

Amanatha rubbed her chin in thought. This was something she had not expected but then she reminded herself that Corypheus was no ordinary enemy. He was a magister from ancient times and a darkspawn. A very intelligent and powerful darkspawn with an ego to match. What was more disturbing was the fact that even the Hero of Fereldan and Stroud could hear it, but they didn’t seem to listen to it which confirmed Dalkan’s suspicion that he and Stroud know the true song of the Calling and could resist. She silently wondered if Blackwall was feeling the same pull. But then another thought crept up on her. If the Wardens were hearing this false Calling and if her hunch about them being scared was also true, then they would try to attempt something drastic. Unfortunately, Stroud’s next statement confirmed her assumption. 

“Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights before we perished.”  

Dalkan scoffed. “Sod it. You and I both know that isn’t possible.” He shook his in anger. “Apparently, when Stroud tried to protest against the madness, his own comrades turned on him. Luckily, I was in the area and lent him a hand. We learned that the rest of the Wardens are converging towards an old Tevinter ritual tower in the Western Approach.” 

“A desert? That’s over two weeks away.” Cullen pointed out. “We’d have to leave immediately just to catch up.” 

Hawke and Fenris shook their heads. “Not quite.” Anara said as she traced a path along the map. “With a small taskforce we can make our way through the Exalted Plains then if we follow the old road, we can get there in about five days.” 

“If Fenris can set up a base camp for the Inquisition to reconvene and establish a stronger presence then myself and a small team can meet up with Hawke and the Wardens to investigate the tower.” Amanatha suggested. When the others voiced their agreement, a knock on the door caught their attention. “Come in.”  

To their surprise, it was Solas who looked a little distressed. “Apologies, Inquisitor. Advisors. But this is rather important. Have any of you seen an elder wood staff? It is imperative that I have it returned.” 

Amanatha and her company exchanged a series of glances before shaking their heads. “Last I saw it; it was in the rotunda. Is it dangerous?” 

“Not exactly.” Solas shook his head. “It’s a family heirloom of mine, passed down from father to son but the magic that resides within it can be volatile when used incorrectly since it is a relic from ancient times.” 

Suddenly, a massive explosion occurred, and the entire castle began to shake violently. Amanatha hissed when she felt the magic within the anchor send a brief wave of pain through her hand and her own magic flared up defensively. As the tremors settled, the Inquisitor rushed outside to the courtyard and noticed a plume of smoke wafting from the stables. Barking an order at the soldiers, she and the warriors rushed to evacuate the horses and Thestral who were shrieking and neighing in fear. Blackwall was hauling the horse-master out of the building while the mages, including Amanatha and Solas concentrated their magic into frost to quell the heat within the building. Once the smoke had settled and the animals were calmed, the Inquisitor and Solas wandered inside. The damage inside wasn’t as bad as it looked for the interior still stood though it looked like someone threw a paint bomb at the walls.  

They made their way up the stairs leading to the loft where the hay and food for the horses resided and scanned the area. Miraculously, nothing was on fire, but it certainly looked like something exploded. Solas spotted Amanatha kneeling down before what looked to be fragments of a staff and she frowned. “I think I found your staff, Solas.” She said regretfully as she collected the fragments along with what looked to be polished moonstone.  

“But who took it?” He growled as he collected one of the fragments.  

A groan from a haybale made them jump as they whipped their heads in the direction of the voice. They found Sera sprawled out on the bale, grumbling disoriented. “That wasn’t supposed to happen...” 

“Sera...” The two elves glowered in the city elf’s direction. 

“Wot? Oh shite!” Sera yelped as she tried to make a break for it only to find her exits blocked by Solas and Amanatha. “Look, it was an accident! I wasn’t trying to blow anything up! I was just trying to use it like a fishing rod, yeah! Dangle a wormy over Dennet’s head coz I heard he didn’t like worms.” 

Solas’ eyes seemed to be bleeding from blue to red with rage as he clenched his hands into tight fists. “So, you thought it was wise to steal from my study? Don’t bother asking if it’s dangerous or unstable?” 

“I didn’t know was a staff. Thought it was a knobby stick you kept around.” Protested Sera, “You never use it when we fight.” 

“It was more than just a stick!” 

Sera rolled her eyes. “Yeah, obviously. You use other staves here.” 

Solas was seething and even his fists began radiating a cold aura which slightly abated when the Inquisitor flashed him a look. Amanatha’s frown deepened as she stared at Sera. “Not the point Sera. You deliberately stole from Solas and not only that, but you also put nearly everyone in danger with this prank of yours.” Sera lowered her head, but the Inquisitor was not done reprimanding her. “On top of that, you broke something that can never be replaced. Until further notice, you will be Vivienne’s assistant in whatever she requires, WITHOUT complaint.” 

“But-” 

“Sera! You nearly brought all of Skyhold down with this blunder!” Amanatha snapped, her patience having all but disappeared. “We all have tolerated your pranks, even enjoyed some of them but this has gone too far. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Inquisi-tits.” Sera grumbled only to recoil when Amanatha’s eyes suddenly glowed an eerie light. “I mean... yeah...”  

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha followed Solas back to the rotunda where they laid the broken fragments on a clean table. He leaned over the desk, almost digging his nails into the wood in anger. He was cursing profusely in ancient Elvhen as he stared at the remains of his staff. His body visibly shook as he tried desperately to reign in his wrath. “Is there any way we can repair it?”  

“Repair it?!” He shouted, snapping his head at Amanatha. “No! Relics like these cannot be repaired! Not in this day and age!”  

Amanatha merely stared at his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions spiraling about them. Rage, sorrow. She chose her words carefully. “If it cannot be repair, then perhaps repurposed?” 

Solas shook his head once more, his hand cradling the moonstone tightly. He knew she was only trying to help. He knew that but his mind was not in the right place at the moment. He instead moved aside allowing her to collect the fragments. He gritted his teeth angrily but suddenly relaxed when she rested a hand on his shoulder. He glanced down at her before taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Make sure you're packed. We’ll be heading to my home tomorrow morning.” She instructed. “You need to get away from here. I’ll talk with Josephine and the others.” Then she left, leaving him to his thoughts. 

Chapter Text

Mienassan turned her head up towards the fortress in the distance. She had been traveling throughout the fringes of the Exalted Plains in search of the rumors revolving around the so call Venatori. She had heard from soldiers engaged in a civil war about the strange cultists making their home in an abandoned fortress just out of reach of prying eyes. If the rumors proved true, then the one she sought must be residing there for the moment. She collected her pack and continued her journey. Ever since she encountered her daughter in the Hinterlands a few months back, she had done a little digging and discovered that she was in fact the Inquisitor of the Inquisition. Mienassan scoffed bitterly. Her life had been so simple until she met the man she thought was her heart and soul. Then her daughter was born and that was when he revealed the truth. A truth she now wished to erase from Thedas. To do that, she needed to find this so-called Elder One.  

She finally made it the fortress late that evening where she spotted several Venatori mages patrolling the battlements as sentries. The Dalish woman rolled her eyes. This was merely another obstacle in her hunt. She rummaged through her satchel and removed a glowing rune. She brushed her thumb against the surface then threw it up on to the wall enjoying the sound of it clattering along the stones. There was a series of overlapping voices followed by the sound of lightning sparking. Then silence. Mienassan tied a hooked mace to a long rope then threw it over the battlements and proceeded to scale up the wall. The woman stuck to the shadows, like a thief in the night as she traversed the vast fortress. It was tricky, as she had nearly given away her position a few times, but she managed to remain concealed.  

Mienassan dropped down to the courtyard silently, like a cat and skulked around every shadow, avoiding the patrols. It wasn’t until she slipped through the large doors leading into the building that she was discovered by a human wearing glowing red armor. She cursed her luck but just as the human was about to strike her down, a gravel voice of old rang out.  

“ Samson... bring her to me .”  

The red knight growled before lowering his weapon and jerked his head in the direction of the voice. Mienassan smirked confidently as she slowly walked towards the looming figure sitting upon what looked to be a corrupted throne, a massive beast curled up partially at his feet. The being was frighteningly grotesque. He had feathers growing out of his shoulders like a fur mantle. His robes, though tattered, were glowing with black and red stones and crystals that gave off a sickening aura. His face also had red crystals growing from it, like a festering infection that refused to heal, and his eyes were black as cold with faint red pupils glowing like coals. He lifted a long talon like finger in a beckoning motion and the elf woman swaggered before him. Corypheus had to admit, this little insect certainly had confidence.  

“ You have quite the gall to storm within one of my strongholds. You are either very stupid or you seek something from the Elder One .” He rasped, his dragon lifting its head up to stare at the woman. “ Speak. What is it you desire from the new God of this era ?”  

Mienassan scoffed, planting a hand on her hip in annoyance. “I’m not here to worship you or any god. However, I hear you and I have a common enemy: The Inquisitor.”  

The mere mention of Amanatha made Corypheus sneer in disgust. The thorn in his side. His claws scraped along the armrest, leaving long grooves in the wood. “ How is she your enemy, Elf ?”  

“Let’s just say she is a stain in my life I wish to destroy both physically and emotionally. And how I plan to do that will also wipe out the stain in my people’s history that should never come to light. I do not care what happens to me in the process, just so long as she dies, I will be content.” Mienassan growled.  

Corypheus brought his hand to his face, a long finger tapping the red lyrium protruding from his face. He was not usually one to be intrigued by the whims of mortals, but this certainly caught his interest. Then another idea sprang to his mind as he adjusted himself to his throne. The fallen Magister riffled through his robes and produced a strange looking orb that pulsed with a familiar blue-green light. He nodded for her to approach and examine the relic. Mienassan warily drew near the being and stared at the sphere. The energy radiating from it certainly matched the magic she sensed on her daughter... as well as another in the Inquisitor’s company. He grinned darkly as the elf seemed to recognize the signature.  

“ You have seen this aura on another have you not ?” He asked tilting his head in feign curiosity. “ Another elf perhaps, aside from the so-called Herald of Andraste ?”  

The Dalish woman nodded her head. “A flat-ear that travels with her.”  

“ The Trickster God of your people ,” Corypheus nodded, his smile growing. “ I am not fluent in the guttural language of the Elves, so what do you call this god ?”  

“Fen’Harel.”  

“ He is another thorn in my side. So, little Elf, tell me ...” The Elder One leaned forward, his face mere inches from Mienassan, “ How do you propose we rid both of them ?”  

Mienassan scratched her chin in thought. There were many methods to kill someone but considering that it was two people instead of one, a more delicate approach was necessary. After a few minutes of pondering, the Dalish woman cut her palm open, her blood dripping on to the floor.  

“What do you know about soul-binding?”  

Chapter Text

Solas rode silently behind the Inquisitor as they finally arrived at the entrance to the Emerald Graves, the massive trees a welcome sight. Josephine and the others had already sent a small platoon to the Western Approach to get a base camp established and would await the Inquisitor’s arrival within the next two weeks. Amanatha turned her head slightly. The apostate had not said a word since they left Skyhold and his posture was more than a little stiff. It had her more than a little worried as they took a quick break near a river. She was sitting on a rock munching on an apple while Solas just meditated near the riverbank, silent as a statue. After a while, the silence became too much, and the woman spoke up. 

“I never had the chance to ask,” she began doing her best not to notice the subtle twitch of his ears, “but did you enjoy the meal I prepared for you yesterday?” 

Solas sighed. “I did. I especially enjoyed the drink that accompanied it.” 

“You actually liked the tea?” 

He whipped his head in her direction. “That was tea?!” 

Amanatha couldn’t help it. A laugh left her chest as she nodded her head in confirmation. “It’s one of my favorites. Hibiscus with dragon-fruit and it is a tea best served cold.” 

Solas furrowed his brow then relaxed and let out an amused chuckle. “Well played, Inquisitor. Well played.”  

It was her turn to chuckle as they settled into a more relaxed silence. The birds overhead sang a series of songs whilst the wind rustled the leaves. Amanatha took a deep breath, taking in the ambience of nature. How she missed being back in the forest. The smell of the wildflowers, the quiet sounds of the animals that dwelled within the forest’s embrace. She turned her eyes towards the river below her perch staring at her reflection. Her hair was tied up in its usual braid and she frowned. She was in her own home, so to speak. She wasn’t here on Inquisition business. She reached up behind her head and slowly began undoing her braid, shaking the tresses loose before combing her fingers through the locks. 

“You should leave your hair down more.” Solas suddenly blurted out and Amanatha blushed. 

She nearly forgot that she wasn’t alone, but she quickly smiled. “You think so?” 

“I do. You look more like yourself in this state.” He affirmed enjoying the way the sunlight pierced through the trees creating a sort of halo around her. “It is quite a breathtaking sight.” 

She averted her gaze, but he smirked to himself as he spotted the tips of her ears turning red. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

“We’re almost to the entrance.” The Elvhen woman smiled brightly. 

Solas followed the direction she was looking in and cocked his head to the side. All he saw was more trees. He was about to question her when his eyes caught something shimmering before him. It looked the Veil but not at the same time. He felt Amanatha slip from the saddle and hold Thestral’s reins before motioning for him to do the same. The apostate eagerly followed suit, walking towards the strange barrier where he placed a hand upon it and his eyes lit up. He felt magic surging through him so briefly, he retracted his hand as though he had received a burn. Although the contact was brief, it felt unbelievably familiar. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just so you know, the energy on the other side might be a bit intense.”  

He nodded his head watching as she placed her hand on the barrier and seemed to whisper a passphrase. The barrier shimmered once more, and she led Thestral through it though it looked as though she had vanished into thin air. Whatever magic this was, it prevented unwanted visitors from gaining entry. Noticing the shimmering distortion was beginning to solidify, the apostate quickly chased after the Inquisitor. 

The way the barrier fell away around them as the two elves passed through the Veil felt magnificent, bringing forth memories Solas had only dreamt and reminisced about. The Veil dissipated like a heavy cloak being discarded. His magic, once choked by the chains of his creation, now sprang forth like water that had been dammed up for far too long. Every breath he took, every exhale made him feel weightless and free. Solas felt his body tremble when he saw a thin blue-green veil of magic radiate from his skin like steam and it took every ounce of willpower not to cry out from sheer joy.  

“Are you alright, Solas?” Amanatha called out to him, her voice laced with concern. “Do you need a moment to catch your breath?” 

The mage turned his gaze towards the woman, and he nodded his head slowly. “Yes, da’len . I am quite alright.” He answered reassuringly, flexing his fingers as his magic thrummed vibrantly. “It has just been a long time since I have felt this... free.” 

“Exhilarating, isn’t it?” 

You cannot possibly imagine . He thought, admiring the way his magic had finally settled. It was then he noticed Amanatha’s own magical aura was resonating serenely around her. Sparks of lightning and wisps of fire danced around her playfully before it too settled back into her skin. Once they had rested from the surge of magic, they pressed onwards. As they walked, Solas got the strange notion that they were being watched and warily flicked his eyes across the pathways, staring deep within the sea of shrubs, trees and grass. He swiftly discovered that there were no grave markers along these massive trees like there were earlier. They must have been walking for quite some time because Amanatha suddenly pointed to something shimmering in the distance. Following her instruction, Solas swore he saw what looked to be some kind of tree house. Then he heard the sound of rushing water, like they were nearing a roaring river or waterfall accompanied by the sound of eagle cries? No! It couldn’t be. He jogged ahead, Amanatha doing her best not to smirk as the mage stood at the top of a hilltop looking straight ahead. Solas felt his jaw drop at the sight before him. There were houses that seemed to have been grown instead of built closer to where he and Inquisitor stood, some appeared to have grown around ancient arravals. Buildings of crystal, ivory and glass wove around the trunks of the massive trees. Towards the center of this well Solas couldn’t really call it a village more like a small city, were buildings of ivory, crystal and glass almost reminiscing of Arlathan but had a unique flair all its own. Like the old mixed with new.  

A screech overhead caused Solas to look up and soaring just under the tree lines were gryphons of every hue! He exchanged baffled glances with Amanatha who just allowed her smirk to grow further. “Where are we exactly, Amanatha?” He asked, finally finding his voice. 

“This is my home. Though some just call it Arlise’an .” She replied as she clicked her tongue, guiding Thestral back to the pathway with Solas trailing after them though he was more distracted by the overwhelming scenery before him. As they neared what looked to be the entrance to the city, elves working in the fields or just conversing with their neighbors suddenly turned their attention towards the newcomers. Many of them waved at Amanatha excitedly while some children ran up to her bombarding her with questions. After satisfying the younglings’ curiosity, the duo once again continued walking along the path. Seeing such a thriving community had Solas’ mind reeling. He saw a variety of spirits and even some demons wandering about the streets as though they were a common occurrence. There were also many elves with unmarked faces as well an alarming number of Dalish elves. The sight of them actually had him conjuring question after question. Why? How? 

Amanatha seemed to sense the mage’s confusion and began to explain the situation. He learned that a great majority of her clan consisted of mainly mages, including mages from other Dalish clans. From what she knew, Dalish clans did not have Templars. That meant that the clans could not have so many mages. Sometimes clans reached out to one another to try and find a place for the extra mages but most of the time, they were sent to Circles. That was where Clan Lavellan stepped in as they were remote enough and were comprised of mostly mages, they often adopted the extra mages. Now I understand what she meant by being raised Dalish but not being Dalish. Solas thought to himself. 

“And they know the truth?” Solas questioned, unable to hide his genuine disbelief. “About the true history of their ancestors?” 

Amanatha bobbed her head in confirmation. 

“And that didn’t cause any fights among the villagers?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Inquisitor explained shaking her head. “Sure, there were issues. It’s to be expected. Everything that the Dalish knew or thought they knew was turned upside down and inside out. There were disputes and some even left but they always came back eager to learn more about the truth and thus, we continue to grow. Come, there will be plenty of time to sight-see once we have met my father.” 

She slipped her hand into his and lightly pulled him back on to the road. Amanatha had to admit, seeing such child-like wonder dancing across Solas’ face was a sight she wouldn’t soon forget. They wandered under an archway that led into the main square where two warriors astride a pair of dark grey gryphons greeted them only to be stopped by the sound of a loud caw. Amanatha turned her head up to the sky and chuckled. “Father has come to greet us.” She informed the apostate and before he could question her further, a flash of silver caught his eyes followed by the flapping of powerful wings. They were greeted by a large gryphon with silvery white feathers and piercing blue eyes. He let out another screech before landing before them, his gaze locked firming on the two elves before him. Solas was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the gryphon glaring right into his soul when Amanatha scolded the creature.  

“Father, you promised you’d be nice.” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly and the gryphon started chuckling before it pulled a curtain of feathers around itself with its gray wings then a hand cut through the plumage and in a sweeping gesture brushed them aside revealing a distinguished older gentleman probably in his late fifties. He had rugged face that bore a look etched by centuries yet so retained a somewhat youthful light. His ears were large with proud points as well as a dark sapphire earring dangling from the left ear. 

“ Andaran atish’an, da’len . It’s good to see you again.” Atthon said fondly as he embraced his daughter with open arms as she hugged him tightly. As he hugged his daughter, Atthon’s eyes lifted towards the apostate, a flash of recognition apparent on in that icy gaze Solas remembered all too well. “You must be the famous Solas.” The hahren said gruffly as he released Amanatha then he extended his hand towards the mage. “My daughter spoke highly of you in her letters. Name’s Atthon, but you can call me sir .” 

Amanatha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Really, Father?” 

Solas felt a familiar urge to be rebellious against the elder’s blatant outright of command and even had a witty remark on the tip of his tongue, however, he clenched his jaw and swallowed his pride as he shook Atthon’s hand. Atthon raised a brow at the apostate but soon offered him a kind smile. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get you two settled in.” The old self spun around on his heels, waving a hand as he urged them to follow.  

Amanatha chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. “He hasn’t changed much at all.” She beamed another smile at Solas. “Come on, before he decides to make us hunt for him.” 

“You said your father is the leader of your clan, did you not?” Solas inquired as they trailed after Atthon, his hand holding Thestral’s lead though his eyes were still wandering in fascination at the scenery around them. 

“Mhmm. He does lead the clan despite its immense size, and he is highly respected.” 

“How does he protect such a large clan and on a different note, why does the Veil not exist in this place?” 

Amanatha flashed him a smirk. “Most of the clan are shapeshifters. He taught most of us to turn into animals and in turn, that is how we avoided dangerous confrontations. Most of the time. As for why the Veil does not touch here? I'm not entirely sure. It's always been like since I was a child.” She soon added that while many residents of the clan could shapeshift, only she and her father had to be wary when they used their beastly forms. While the other clan members took the forms of foxes, halla, wolves or even bears which were commonly found within the Emerald Graves, Amanatha and Atthon had forms that were out of the ordinary. A dragon and a gryphon were not very common. Secondly, most of the shifters stayed close to the village, hardly straying as animals unless necessary. No one wanted to risk becoming the hunted. On the other hand, shifters made excellent scouts as no one would suspect an animal of being a threat. Apparently, it was because of one of these scout shifters that Clan Lavellan was alerted to the gathering at the Conclave. When Solas prodded about how long Atthon had been leading the clan, she suddenly went quiet. Either she did not know or was unsure how to answer. Soon they arrived at what looked to be a humble cottage with a stable on the right and a garden on the left. Atthon was about to open the door when a black blur suddenly tackled Solas from behind.  

The apostate groaned but went still when a hard beak suddenly pressing against the back of his neck, followed by a nip that caused Solas to yelp in surprise. 

“Tarasyl!” Atthon snapped at the mass. “Get off him.” 

As the extra weight leapt off him, Solas was greeted by a pair of bright hazel eyes. Attached to the eyes was a gryphon. It had plumes of midnight blue feathers and black fur. The gryphon snorted before excitedly prancing in front of Thestral who seemed eager to play with the patch of felt. It was still a shock for Solas to see gryphons thriving when his attempts at finding them failed. I guess Amanatha’s words back than were true. They still live . He thought as he brushed the dirt and leaves of his clothes. Amanatha helped the apostate back to his feet before petting the creature fondly. “He’s gotten bigger since I last saw him.” She said as the black gryphon and the dracolisk made happy clicking noises. “Are you alright, Solas?” 

“Yes.” The elven mage laughed slightly. “Just surprised me.” 

While the woman dealt with stabling the creatures, Atthon invited the mage inside. Solas was expecting something of nobility but was once again proved wrong. The interior was rather humble in appearance and decor. Almost akin to that of a hunter and a craftsman. Atthon escorted him to his room while Amanatha could be heard brushing the animals outside. “This is our guestroom. Hopefully it will suffice.” Atthon said as he opened the door in front of them and left the man to his own devices. Solas slowly explored his new quarters in wonder. Crystal lamps hung from the ceiling of vibrant green lichen, lit up by orbs of light magic. The bed was covered with soft fabrics made from halla and cotton. There was a bookshelf next to the bed filled to the brim with books and a desk for late night studying. In a way, it reminded him of his old room when he was growing up. When things were simpler and before the Veil.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha was in the kitchen, preparing dinner when she spotted Solas emerging into the living room, the expression on his face reflecting purpose. “Are your quarters acceptable?” She asked as she diced some vegetables.  

“Yes, they are.” He nodded absentmindedly. 

“Father was called away to help some of the guards set up tonight’s patrol. He’ll be back later tonight.” She informed him as she unpackaged a few slabs of elk meat. “When he returns, we can ask him about your staff.” 

“I do not know why you are so insistent. I did say that it was unrepairable.” Solas rolled his eyes as he wandered around the room until he found a small painting on one of the nightstands and carefully lifted it up. It looked like a younger version of Amanatha with a familiar baby gryphon in her arms while nestled against a young dracolisk. 

“There may be someone here who can repair it.” She countered as she placed the vegetables in a pot. “But if it can’t be repair, perhaps it can repurposed.” 

Solas felt himself struggling not to smirk as he set the picture down. “You are a stubborn woman.”  

An hour past by and Atthon finally returned home just in time to find Solas helping Amanatha set the table, the sweet scent of venison stew wafting through the air. As they gathered around the table for their meal, Atthon noticed his daughter and the apostate’s hands brush when they both reached for a small loaf of bread. As expected, Solas allowed her to take her share first. In all honesty, the old elf missed having people to share a meal with and it warmed his heart seeing his daughter smiling again, despite all the turmoil going on outside the village. He listened intently as Amanatha regaled the adventures that had transpired since she left. He noticed the slight tension on Solas’ posture when she shared about some of their conversations, but Atthon was also aware of the fondness in the mage’s eyes when he glanced up at the woman or chimed in on some of the conversations. He certainly seems calmer since the last time I saw him . Atthon thought while taking another bite of the stew, humming in delight as he had missed his daughter’s cooking. Soon the discussion maneuvered over towards the festival that would be transpiring in two days. 

Solas learned that Clan Lavellan often held tournaments every year and each year was different. Some were combative, others were tournaments of the mind. The winner of the tournament won the title of Fen’Harel’s champion along with choosing the event for the following year. Apparently, many of the clan members always looked forward to the events, mainly the tournaments. 

“So, who do you think is going win the title of Fen’Harel’s champion this year?” Amanatha giggled as she looked at her father.  

Atthon raised a brow playfully at his child, a mischievously. “Oh? Are you not competing this year? You’ve been undefeated for nearly ten years. Do you not have an idea for the tournament” 

Solas coughed slightly as some bread got caught in his throat due to his shock. “Wha- *cough* I-I... I’m sorry. How many years undefeated?!” 

“I’ve been competing since I was eighteen.” The Inquisitor shrugged nonchalantly before answering her father. “No, I haven’t. I have been busy looking for a murderous and ugly darkspawn magister intent on killing me.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Amanatha then threw Solas a thoughtful look. The mage mirrored her expression then furrowed his brows suspiciously. “I hear you thinking over there...” 

“Perhaps you have a suggestion for the tournament?”  

“You’d have a stranger choose the event?” Solas questioned curiously only to turn his head towards Atthon’s laughter. 

“Why not?” The elder countered smugly. “I’m curious to hear what you have in mind.” 

The mage lifted a hand to his chin then tilted his head in thought. He then noticed the twinkle in Amanatha’s eyes, and a spark of inspiration hit him. “Have you ever done an event with both magic and melee?” 

Father and daughter looked at each other then back at Solas. At first, he thought he had the wrong idea but as they started to grin, he slowly relaxed. Knowing that the event was decided on, Amanatha began collecting the plates and pot. Atthon rose up from his chair and assisted his daughter by drying the washed dishes she cleaned. It was strange seeing the interaction between Atthon and Amanatha. The Inquisitor was often forced to keep up appearances as leader of the Inquisition and while she reflected grace, dignity and power, it always appeared tedious. From that he understood immensely. But here, away from the Skyhold, away from everything, she was just a young elvhen woman. As he continued observing Atthon and Amanatha he began feeling a strange sensation in his chest. It was warm and pleasant and every look the Inquisitor snuck at him, the stronger that sensation felt. What was this feeling? 

“Oh!” Exclaimed the elf woman as she finished washing the pot. “That’s right! I nearly forgot.” 

Atthon spun around as his daughter disappeared around the corner. A moment later, she returned with the broken staff fragments. “What’s this, da’len ?” 

“It's actually Solas’.” She explained as he plucked one of the fragments and examined it. “There was... an incident with one of our allies... we were hoping maybe we could have someone repair it.” 

Atthon frowned sadly before shaking his head. “You have a good heart da’natha but I’m afraid this particular staff can not be repaired. The reason is the wood that was used for this artifact no longer exists.” Upon seeing the apostate and Inquisitor slump their shoulders, he offered a knowing smile. “However, while it’s true the staff can’t be repaired, it can indeed be repurposed into a new one with the fragments becoming the core of the staff. Of course, that is only if Solas wishes for it to be remade into something new.” 

At first, Solas was hesitant. The staff was originally gifted to him by his father just as it had been for as long as he could remember. Still, he noted the determination in Amanatha’s eyes. She wanted to do him this favor because she seemed to understand the importance of it. His eyes danced between the two before he sighed, a tight smile on his face. “If it can be done, then I would like that very much.” 

((Below are renditions of Clan Lavellan's buildings and the room Solas is occupying within Amanatha's home.))

**First picture is what the inner most part of the city looks like.**

**Second picture is closer to the outskirts of the city.**

**Last picture is the guest room.**

Chapter Text

Amanatha was up before dawn had even crested over the mountains. The woman quickly got herself dressed and had her hair tied up into a braided bun then she quickly gathered the fragmented staff and moonstone as well as a sketch she had done just before going to bed the night prior. She needed to make a few stops before heading to the blacksmith. She was out the door just as Atthon had left his room to get breakfast going. She shouted a quick farewell and continued down the road, the crystal lanterns still shining with white-gold light. There was an ore that was needed for this new creation, but it could only be found just before the sun rose and near the river. She waved at a few guards who happily greeted the young woman before returning their patrol. Amanatha sighed, the magical energies of her home settling within her as though it was welcoming her back. This was where she belonged in her opinion. She slowed her run to a brisk walk and glanced down at her left hand.  

The scar still remained but no longer hurt except when ancient artifacts exploded. She surmised that it flared up when ancient was released too quickly or when someone purposely tried to tamper with it. “Like when Corypheus tried to forcefully remove it.” The elf muttered to herself but quickly shook her head reminding herself of her task. 

She slid down a slope leading to the river and set to work walking along the bank in search of her materials. The quiet sounds of the water running along the rocks was music to her ears and it was difficult for her not to just wade into the cold stream. Soon enough she spotted a pale silver glint ahead and immediately homed in on it. It was a large chunk of paragon luster, exactly what she was looking for. She dug out her mining knife and began to carve the stone out of the muck until she managed to remove a cantaloupe size chunk. “Okay... A little more than I need but I’m sure Dura can utilize the rest of it.” She laughed before placing the ore into her bag. She just needed to gather the wood for the staff. She had thought of using metal, but knowing how fond Solas was of the original, she opted to keep as close to it as possible. 

The only issue that Amanatha faced now was what type of wood she should use? From what she understood, Solas’ staff was originally crafted from ancient elderwood and that particular species of tree had gone extinct during the First Blight. At least... that was what she read in nearly every library she came across. Then she recalled something. Wisdom once spoke of an ancient tree that still thrived and still lived even before the First Blight and had survived the Fifth: The Sylvanwood. An hour later, Amanatha was now regretting not bringing Tarasyl or Thestral with her. The materials she was carrying were a bit cumbersome. Still, she managed to bring her haul to the blacksmith. “ Hahren Dura!” She called out to the smith as he pounded away at the red-hot sword he was forging. 

The smith rubbed his forehead with the back of his free hand then turned towards the elf woman. “Amanatha! I heard you had returned! It’s good to see you!” Dura laughed as he set his project aside and gave her a one-armed hug. Dura was an oddity among the clan. He was tall, even for an elf. In fact, he was just a head shorter than Iron Bull. He was tan and rather muscular, mostly due to handling the forge. His hair was a flaming red and cut short. His eyes were also a fiery red like the coals keeping his forge alive. Even to this day, Amanatha did not know his full story. Only that he was half-elf, half-Qunari. Not that she minded. She grew up seeing him as an uncle of sorts. “What brings you to my humble anvil?” 

“I was hoping you could help me forge a spearhead out of this.” She explained, presenting the chunk of ore she had collected earlier that morning. 

“Whoa.” Dura whistled excitedly at the sight. “Now that is what I call a paragon’s luster! But why a spearhead? You don’t use a spear, let alone a staff.” 

Amanatha shook her head. “It’s not for me. I’m crafting a staff for my companion since his original one shattered due to an... incident.” She then produced the broken fragments and moonstone for emphasis. “I was hoping to use these as the core too, if it's possible.” 

Dura lifted one of the broken pieces, an occasional hum or grunt leaving his throat as he listened to her explanation. He then collected the moonstone, his pointed ears twitching almost animatedly. Amanatha knew that twitch. If often meant he was amped up for a challenge and she grinned hopefully. “You get the base of the staff carved and I’ll have the spearhead ready within an hour or two.” 

It was nice being at the forge. Amanatha was busy carving and whittling away at the sylvanwood meticulously, adding careful engravings that she saw on the original staff onto the new one. When it came to the grip of the staff, that was the moment Inquisitor felt she could add the pieces of the original to the new staff. Dura handed her a special resin to preserve and protect the bigger fragments from any further damage or misuse. Miraculously, the grip of the staff remained mostly intact. However, the core within was destroyed and what it was, Amanatha could never replace but she could feel the magic within it. She chipped off a piece of the moonstone then grounded it up into a powder before mixing it with some dust from the splintered pieces. As soon as she poured the mixture into the hollowed part of the grip then added the resin, she felt a wave of energy wash over her. Like someone was relieved with her choice. The sun was almost halfway up in the sky, and she decided to take a break and stretch her limbs. Dura had taken the metal he had forged inside to add a few finishing touches and a final polishing. 

The woman exhaled softly, her hand running along the back of her head before she tilted it back grunting slightly as the muscles in her neck popped. She opened one eye to watch gryphons soaring through the trees or walking alongside their elvhen partners who were still prepping themselves for either patrol or training exercises. 

She lifted the staff and ran her hand along the surface. The engravings were finished, and the grip was properly protected. All she needed now were the spearheads. She greeted a few citizens walking by with a wave and smile before setting back to her work. Dura returned just as the sun hit the center of the sky signifying that it was noon, and he presented the pair of spearheads for the staff. Amanatha knew of Dura’s superb craftsmanship, but this seemed to go even beyond that! The metal had been expertly engraved with tiny elvhen runes of protection that shimmered with a faint glittering green hue. He infused the metal with Fade-Touched Veil Quartz... She thought, her hand resting over her heart. That should keep him protected and enhance his barriers immensely . She noticed a notch in one of the spearheads and instinctively, she set the moonstone into the slot smiling as it fit perfectly. While Dura finished fusing the first spearhead, Amanatha set another rune into the last one. She opted for a master spirit rune she had found while traversing Crestwood. She recalled the predecessor of this staff had a similar rune though it was lesser in terms of power. As soon she set the rune into the blade, a bright flash of green light briefly enveloped the two crafters, then as it calmed down, Amanatha handed it to the smith who smirked at the results. 

“I have to say, this is one gorgeous staff you crafted.” The halfling said as he applied a special varnish along the length of the weapon that would keep the wood and metal smooth and shiny. “If your companion does not appreciate it, then I’ll keep it.” 

“No, you won’t” 

Dura laughed as he placed the staff in a long box then tied it off for her. She handed him the left-over paragon’s luster as payment as he shooed her off. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas had just returned to the clan-leader's home after having a rather insightful chat with Atthon. He still was reeling slightly from the revelation but knew the old man was right. He still had been hesitant to commit to returning the woman’s feelings. He knew she was patient, but her father made a valid point as well. He needed to give Amanatha an answer and soon. She deserved that much. He felt a weight on his lap and found Tarasyl resting his head on the mage’s lap. Absentmindedly, Solas ran his fingers along the top of the dark gryphon’s head. I am torn between love and duty’s call but in her gaze, it’s as if my soul lays down bare for her. He thought to himself, feeling the creature lift his head and chirp confused at him. I find myself lost in her eyes filled with starlight. I see a world so bright yet shadows whisper in my mind and pull me to fight.  

Tarasyl crooned, his head tilting once more to the side, his feathery feline-like tail swishing from side to side as though he were listening to the mage’s inner thoughts. He continued to pet the animal, enjoying the purring he did in response. I want to give in and give her everything, but the price is the world from before. Do I want to pay that cost? Can I give it all up for love evermore?  

Could it really be that easy? Can I leave my past behind, join her world? Can I shed the wolf and let this love unfurl? He turned his head back up to the sky, the leaves of the trees swaying and making the sunlight shimmer and shift with each twist of the branches. He closed his eyes, his hand just resting atop the gryphon’s head. Since meeting Amanatha, conversing and interacting with her, the mage realized that this was more than just a fleeting fantasy. She was real. She saw him, even sensed his flaws and knew he was withholding some things, yet she was there to listen when he was ready to speak and give what was needed. Ready to offer her company when needed. He realized that his love for her cut deeper than any blade he had felt. He also discovered that he would give almost anything to feel her touch on his skin, for a kiss no matter how featherlight on his lips, to follow and bask in the warmth of her light that was her love. 

“Oh, Amanatha... you are the light that pierced my guarded heart.” Solas whispered, removing his hand from Tarasyl, ignoring the disgruntled beast’s protests. He glanced down at the gryphon as it chirped at him then watched as he let out a happy trill. Solas followed Tarasyl’s line of sight and saw Amanatha jogging towards the house though she let out a surprised hum when she saw him sitting in the garden.  

“Oh! I thought you’d be exploring the rest of the city.” She said bemused.  

Solas offered her a half smile. “Well, in truth, Atthon and I did explore the city, but we had to part ways. Something about finishing the final preparations for the tournament tomorrow.” He explained than added in an irked tone. “He also tricked me into competing in the tournament as well.” 

“Why do you sound so irritated, Solas?” The Dalish woman prodded before a teasing smirk tugged on her lips. “I thought you’d leap at the chance to see me ‘dominated’ in combat, especially at your hands.” 

Solas threw his head back in alarm, icy-blue eyes wide with shock. She threw his words from their first flirtations back at Haven back at him and that mischievous smirk of hers had him stumbling over his words. It also did not help when her smile grew, knowing that she had got him. Clever girl. He thought, very well. I’ll bite. “Well then, since you put it so eloquently, I’d be honored to put you in your place.” 

Amanatha laughed, amused, before she nodded for him to follow her towards a table that suddenly manifested itself in the garden. She set the box down on the table and motioned for him to open it. Not wanting to disappoint, the mage carefully pried the lid off the container and the sight before him almost brought tears to his face. The staff glistened as though carved from the purest of silver, as the tips glittered in the sunlight. While it was not the original, he saw that she saved the grip of his father’s staff and melded it seamlessly with the new posts. He ran his hand along the length of the staff, his fingers tracing the engravings along the wood, closing his eyes as he could read the words through touch. She even etched the words Mamae carved into my father’s staff. He thought as he lifted the weapon. The weight was perfectly balanced as he gave it practice spin. That was when he noticed what type of wood it was along with the spearheads. 

“Sylvanwood and Paragon’s Luster?” He nearly choked.  

Amanatha beamed at him as she felt pride welling up within her. “Ancient Sylvanwood to be precise. Branches from a tree that survived untainted by the First Blight. The paragon’s luster was freshly mined, and the blacksmith forged the metal as well as infused it with Fade-Touched Veil Quartz.” She then placed a hand over the grip, her palm resting on top of Solas’ hand. “The grip is from the original staff but within it are the fragments and crushed moonstone with resides as the core of the staff. I also took the liberty of enchanting it with a master Spirit rune and the last of the moonstone is set within one of the spearheads.” 

Solas was absolutely touched. Not only did Amanatha go out of her way to forge him a new staff, but she painstakingly tried to honor the original design his parents had gifted him. He allowed a small drop of his mana to flow into the staff, curious to see how it would react to him. The result was instantaneous as the etchings on the metal and wood began to illuminate with a soft pale-green light. The mage swore he felt her magic forming a powerful barrier around him. He had read somewhere... No... He remembered his father and mother mentioning something about this phenomenon. When a loved one crafts you something such as a weapon or clothes their feelings imbue it with a power that even the darkest magics can not touch . His mother said that once and now he knew what she meant simply by looking at the Inquisitor’s work. That wasn’t the only thing he noticed either. His chest felt extremely warm at the shy but beautiful smile on Amanatha’s face. He could feel the emotion from her creation. That affection... He set the staff down, still holding her hand and he leaned forward, his forehead brushing against hers.  

“It is perfect.” He whispered. 

Chapter Text

Amanatha leaned against a large boulder while Solas practiced with his new staff as she explained the rules of the tournament that was transpiring tomorrow. It was strange for her to be the teacher as normally she was the one who sought the apostate for advice. Once he finished casting a few more spells, he strolled over to her accepting the waterskin she offered. “So, to win each match, you have to knock out your opponent?” She nodded to his question, “And as this tournament is both magic and melee, we can use any weapon, magic or form so long as we don’t seriously injure our opponent?” He received another nod. “However, you as the champion, don’t change forms because you and your father believe it would be an unfair advantage?” 

“Correct again. Dragons and gryphons are a bit overpowering alone as it is.” She explained as she took the bottle back. “You and the other contestants can choose whether you fight as an animal or not. Heck you can even alternate. However, just because we have a set of rules doesn’t mean everyone follows. There may be an opponent or two that try to bend the rules.” 

“How so?” 

Amanatha rubbed her chin. “They might throw dirt at you in the arena to blind you and such but that’s about the worst of it.” 

The mage grumbled slightly. He wasn’t all that surprised. They stood there in relative silence, listening to the wind rustle through the grass when they heard the sound of children laughing and squealing over a hilltop. The two glanced at one another before curiosity got the better of them and the two elves jogged over to the source. What they found was a curious sight indeed. One of the local children, a young girl with bright blonde hair, was riding on a young tan gryphon trying to spook a flock of birds off a field and were failing miserably. She let out an exasperated sigh as she patted her gryphon. 

“What seems to be the problem, da’len?” Amanatha inquired when the little girl turned towards her visitors. 

“Mamae and Babae asked me to chase off the birds that keep eating the seeds of our wheat.” The elf girl whined. “Holo and I tried everything to keep them off the field, but nothing seems to work. Can you help, asa’ma’lin? Isa’ma’lin?” 

Solas gave the field a scan and narrowed his eyes. The field was quite large and seemed to crest over a hill. He could see the variety of birds already converging back to the ground to collect the wheat grains. He seemed to be contemplating the best strategy when Amanatha suddenly tossed a small orb of lightning to a group of birds. There was a loud pop, and some of the birds scattered in alarm. The little elf squealed excitedly, encouraging them to repeat the spell while she scared off the stragglers. Solas quirked a brow at Amanatha who grinned mischievously at him then motioned for him to try. Not wanting to be outdone, the mage mimicked the spell and threw an orb of ice towards another flock of birds. The orb made a loud breaking sound, like glass had shattered and the birds dramatically flapped their wings to escape. 

Amanatha laughed excitedly before racing over the hill with Solas chasing after her in confusion. The Inquisitor cast a thin sheet of ice down the slope of the hill and began to glide down the slippery surface, her mirthful laugh confusing the mage even more. They had scared the birds already, so why were they sliding down a slope? 

“Why are we doing this?” He asked her as he mirrored her movements on the ice. “What’s the point of this?” 

Amanatha spared a brief glance. “Got to have fun while you work!” 

“Fun?” 

The little girl they were helping glided between the two on her gryphon as she beamed excitedly at Solas. “Yeah, hahren! Fun!” She squealed as the young gryphon barrel-rolled into another group of birds, its rider squealing happily.  

Solas stared at the two perplexed. Fun? He thought to himself before he saw the two startle another flock of birds only to find himself bubbling with laughter when the two ended up covered in a variety of colorful feathers. He continued to chase after Amanatha on the path of ice, occasionally casting harmless spells to spook the remaining birds and for some reason he discovered that he enjoyed the odd game. The trio burst into a symphony of chortles and snickers as they descended down another slope, birds of every hue dispersing and squawking in alarm or irritation, but the three elves did not care. They were having too much fun! They were rounding the corner of a dried-up riverbank when they spotted a large mass ahead. Amanatha and Solas let out a shout of surprise as they skid to a screeching halt with the little girl clutching her gryphon’s neck in alarm. Before them was a large herd of bronto, one horned beasts that resembled rhinos, sunbathing in a clearing. The creatures narrowed their beady eyes at the three elves and gryphon then snorted angrily.  

“Uh oh...” The little girl grimaced.  

Solas cringed flicking his eyes to Amanatha. “Run?” 

“Run.” She agreed as the trio turned on their heels and began sprinting away. 

The brontos roared, their heavy feet making the ground tremble as they charged after the elves that disturbed their peaceful afternoon. The little girl and her gryphon were ahead gliding along the banks with Solas and Amanatha sprinting close behind. Of all the things to happen today, being chased by a herd of wild brontos was not one Solas anticipated occurring! He rounded a corner that the Inquisitor had turned only to find that she had disappeared along with the child. He could already see the horns of the brontos barreling towards the curve, but he let out a strangle yell when a hand snagged him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him into a small cave. Amanatha and the child managed to find a hiding spot and pulled him inside for safety. He grunted when her hand clamped over his mouth and the pounding of thundering hooves raced past the cave. As the dust settled and the trio were certain that the danger had passed, the three elves burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Let’s do that again!” The little girl shrieked mirthfully but her gryphon made a disapproving grunt. 

Amanatha chuckled slightly. “Let’s not. That was too close for comfort.” 

“Indeed, but it was fun.” Said the girl laughing softly. Solas also snickered slightly then winced as the gryphon and little girl squeezed out from behind him and he grunted landing on his back. With the support now gone, Amanatha also fell but was now unintentionally straddling the mage’s hips and they were only a breath apart. They remained frozen for a moment before Solas let out a breathy,  "Ir abelas...” 

“Ir abelas...” She said at the same time before she wiggled herself free and crawled out of the cave then offered her hand to help him up though he accepted the assistance just as timidly. 

They both were blushing profusely before the little girl suddenly called out to them, wishing them farewell before she disappeared with her gryphon back towards her home. Having had enough excitement for the day, Amanatha and Solas decided to return home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“What were you like before the anchor?” Solas asked as the two walked side by side along the dusk-lit street, the setting sun having dipped behind the mountains earlier. She turned her head towards him, a quirked brow of confusion on her face then she studied her left hand as he continued. “Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind? Your morales? Your... spirit?” 

She shook her head chuckling. “I don’t believe so. As I told you before, my magic just feels more powerful but nothing I can’t handle.” The mage sighed, sounding relieved. “Why do you ask?” 

“You have shown a wisdom I have not seen since...” He paused. Since the day I met Mythal. He realized that he had been silent for a few seconds too long and spoke up once. “Since my deepest journeys in to the deepest memories of the Fade. You are not at all what I had expected.” 

Amanatha tilted her head to the side, her hair falling as she did so. “Oh? What have I done that has impressed you?” 

Aside from lodging yourself into my heart somehow? He thought but closed his eyes, a tight smile forming on his face. “You have shown subtlety in your actions, a wisdom that goes well beyond my expectations. The fact that there is a woman with a spirit such as yours is nothing short of phenomenal. Most people act with such little understanding of the world. But not you.” 

They stopped before the river leading to their quarters and Amanatha turned to face Solas fully. Her eyes shimmered with curiosity and hope. “Tell me honestly, Solas. What is on your mind?” 

“I have not forgotten the kiss.” He smiled shyly. 

Amanatha returned the smile with her own. “Neither have I.” She giggled as she playfully held her hands behind her back and took a step forward.  

He stared into those lovely blue-green eyes of hers. The way her hair framed her face even after their little adventure in avoiding the herd of bronto enhanced the already natural beauty the young elf had. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin. He leaned forward, intent on kissing her once more, but he stopped. Atthon’s words from earlier echoed in his mind.  

~~~~~~~~~ 

“You can’t keep running from what your heart desires, Solas. Why deny yourself happiness?” Atthon asked leaning against the wall of the arena watching the apostate pace. “She’ll learn the truth either way.”  

“All the more reason why I can not go through with it.” Solas sighed. “She’s too precious to me and I do not wish for her to follow me on this path.”  

Atthon shook his head laughing. “No. That’s not it, at least not all of it and you damn well know it.” When Solas furrowed his brow at the elder, he walked towards him. “I understand that you want to fix the past, that you still pine for her. But you have someone now who sees you for you . Someone who is willing to listen and be there for you. Don’t push her away.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He opened his eyes, unsure when he had closed them and stared at Amanatha’s curious gaze. He sighed and turned to walk away, only to feel her hand catch him by the arm. He heard her whisper softly. “Don’t go.” He felt his face twist into a grimace. Her words were so soft and gentle. 

“It... would be kinder in the long run.” 

He felt her other hand cradle his cheek and he allowed her to turn his gaze back towards her. “Is it truly what you want? Just say the words and I will stop.” 

What I want? “No, it is not.” He said holding her hand then placed it over his heart. “But I cannot bear losing you.”  

Amanatha’s eyes softened. “You won’t have to worry about that. I’m hard to kill.” 

A ghost of a smile formed on his lips, and she grinned back at him. She certainly was a confident woman. Spitfire indeed. He thought before she kissed his cheek tenderly. He pressed his brow to hers and she exhaled softly. He pulled her chin upwards then covered her lips with his own. He wrapped his arms around her, her warmth chasing away the cold. When her arms wrapped around his back to pull him closer, Solas could feel more and more of his resolve slipping away. Maybe... just maybe. He pulled away, her eyes shining brightly as she held out her hand towards him.  

“Come. We have a long day tomorrow.” She stated, her fingers curling around his hand. “I am eager to see how well you do.” 

Solas rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I will endeavor not to disappoint.” 

“Solas?” 

“Hmm?” 

He glanced down at her once more. We’ll take things are your pace, vhenan. I am a patient.” 

“Ma serranas, vhenan.”  

Chapter Text

Solas was not surprised to be woken up early by Atthon and Amanatha. The sun wasn’t even out when the three elves left the house and walked towards the heart of the city. The mage hated to admit it, but he felt quite at home with Clan Lavellan. It actually felt like he was back in ancient Arlathan or at least close to it. As Amanatha had told him, there were obvious disagreements with the new arrivals who joined her clan but with time and patience, they managed to create something new. A new era for the Elves. He chuckled to himself earning a knowing smile from the Inquisitor as they walked past a few large pride demons. Solas glanced up at them and they stared down at him, shrugged then wandered towards the edges of the city. Before the mage could question either of his companions, Atthon was the first to speak.  

“Do not worry. Clan Lavellan actually gets along with spirits of all kinds. Those Pride Demons often patrol the streets at night but today, they will be guarding the barriers at the edge of the city during the tournament.”   

Solas turned his head briefly. “You’ll have to forgive my astonishment. It has been some time since I have seen this let alone be permitted to experience it.”  

“After a while, it just becomes an everyday occurrence. While not all demons are pleasant, for those that have stayed here, they have been a welcome addition to our family.” Amanatha smiled softly. “But as you noticed, they are free to come and go as they please and have no interest in corrupting the residents.”  

“I did indeed. I have seen many of the people treat them as they would want to be treated.” Solas nodded in agreement. “It is a pleasing sight.”  

Atthon listened idly to the mage and the Inquisitor chat and hid a smile. It had been quite some time since he had seen either of them so animated, so full of life. He missed seeing this side of them. He snuck another look at the two, the bright care-free smile on Amanatha’s face and the relaxed almost peaceful expression on Solas caused the old elf to soften his gaze. He could already tell the two would be just fine. Soon they arrived at the arena where Amanatha pulled Solas towards the combatants' changing rooms. Atthon was half tempted to stop the two but thought against finding it more amusing to see the mage flustered. Once they had disappeared, he made his way towards the arena.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Solas finished donning the combatant armor for the tournament though he felt a little over-dressed wearing what looked like Dalish warrior armor. He was struggling with a pair of gauntlets that didn’t want to clamp around his wrist when Amanatha’s hands glided around the metal and tightened the leather strap to secure it properly. When he lifted his head to thank her, he found that she was wearing Dalish rogue armor, similar to the outfit she wore when she was at the Conclave. However, her original armor was more earthy, allowing her to blend in with her surroundings. This set was black and gold with splashes of red in some areas. Donning her face was a black wolf mask with faint gold etchings outlining the canine-like features and four red eyes painted over the brows of the eye sockets.  

“That is an impressive mask.” He commented while she adjusted the second gauntlet. “Is it safe for me to assume that is the mark of Fen’Harel’s champion?”  

She lifted her gaze, blue-green eyes a stark contrast to the dark colors of the mask. “It is indeed. This is the only time I ever wear any sort of helm.”  

She patted his shoulder after finishing up his armor then turned her head as the other contestants arrived. Amanatha was more than a little surprised to see that there were only four. Two she knew were simply mages and the other two were warriors. One in particular she was neither surprised nor did she seem impressed to see him. The fourth warrior was roughly the same height as Solas and he, too, donned the warrior’s armor. He had reddish-brown eyes and the markings of Elgar’nan on his face. Solas had a distinct feeling he was not going to like this man. Then his hunch proved right when the man strolled up to the Inquisitor, a confident smirk on his face.  

“Good to see you again, Amanatha.” He said giving her a flourished bow. “You’re looking ravishing today.”  

Amanatha rolled her eyes. “Hello Ravellan.”  

“Hope you know this year is the last year you reign as champion.” Ravellan smirked. “And I look forward to claiming my prize.”  

“And what prize are you referring to, Ravellan?” Amanatha crossed her arms over her chest. “I do hope this is not another attempt to woo me. I told you before and the years prior that I am not a prize to be won.”  

Ravellan lifted her chin. “No need to hide your feelings da’natha . I know what you think of me.”  

Amanatha smacked the man’s hand away. “And I think you’re as delusional as the Evanuris who claimed to be gods.”  

Solas almost didn’t register the fact that he was clenching the staff so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He gripped Ravellan’s shoulder with his free hand, eyes glowering at the man as he spoke icily. “I believe the lady told you that she is not interested in you.”  

Ravellan turned away from the Inquisitor to glare right back at the mage. “You must be the new contestant I heard the Keeper conscripted into the tournament. Solas, was it?” The mage furrowed his brows deeply. “Hate to break it to you flat-ear, you don’t have a chance in Hell to beat me. She’s mine.”  

“Hey, Ravellan!” One of the other mages snapped at him. “Save it for the match.”  

The warrior scoffed, shaking Solas’ hand from his shoulder before he walked over towards the entrance leading in to the arena where he sat down on a bench and began sharpening his sword. Solas turned towards Amanatha who merely shook her head at the warrior. “Who is he?”  

“Ravellan. He’s from a clan located in the western part of Fereldan. He was also the champion before me.” She explained as she beckoned the mage to follow her towards another entrance. “He had never been bested until I came along. He thinks that the only way I’d be his, is if he beats me in these tournaments. However, as you can see, I remain champion.”  

“What are his strengths and weaknesses?” Solas inquired in a whisper as he kept his eye on the warrior.   

Amanatha shrugged. “He’s no slouch in sword and board. He’s decent with magic but what you really need to watch out for is his beast form. He’s a lot more dangerous when he takes on his animal form.”  

Solas was almost dreading the next question, but he was curious. “What, pray tell, is his animal form?”  

“A wolf.”  

The mage rolled his eyes and shook his head. That explained a lot. The man was a young male thinking he was top dog and was trying to impress a female. Solas flicked his eyes at the Inquisitor who seemed to be snickering at his expressions. Well, while he did not particularly like these pissing matches, he would gladly knock down this man a few notches.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

A few more hours ticked by and the sounds of voices chanting and cheering outside could be heard. Amanatha lowered her mask over her face and exhaled softly as she heard her father addressing the citizens, her heart beating excitedly. It was tradition. He was explaining the history of their people from the rise of their gods to their inevitable fall to the Dreadwolf’s rebellion and how they celebrate their freedom with the festival and the tournament. The tournament was going to be held first, signifying the struggle of the ancestors when they faced their tyrannical gods with the Champion of Fen’Harel representing the Dreadwolf’s victory. She glanced at Solas and the other two contestants, noticing that they were wearing nervous expressions.  

“Be at ease, everyone.” She said, her smile soothing the younger mages. “Think of this as a sparring match. You are training to become better than you already are. Don’t worry about the prize. Focus on having fun and showing what you are capable of.”  

The two younger mages smiled appreciatively.   

“Pretty words, Natha.” Ravellan smirked as he leaned against the wall next to her as the mages moved off to take their places. “Hope you hold the same sentiment when I win this year.”  

“You are welcomed to try.” Countered the woman as she turned her gaze towards the arena. “I don’t mind giving up the title, just not to you.”  

Solas observed the confrontation between the two and shook his head. Soon, the competitors heard the sound of a horn bellow overhead and they took their positions in the massive arena. Solas was facing off against one of the mages while Amanatha was pitted against the other warrior. The preliminaries were nothing special. In fact, the battles were over rather quickly with Solas winning his match relatively quickly, mainly due to the young mage putting too much power in their barriers towards the front. What surprised him the most was how willing they were to hear his advice when he assisted them up off the ground. Amanatha’s opponent was the second warrior in the bunch. She seemed to have some difficulty dealing with the man when he shifted into a great bear causing her to keep her distance from his powerful swipes, but she soon found the kink in the warrior’s defenses. He often swung too wide, leaving his abdomen open for counterstrikes. Within moments and a well place shock rune, the Inquisitor had subdued her opponent, and she stood over them with a smile. The warrior returned back to normal grumbling in disappointment but couldn’t resist smiling back at the woman as she gripped his wrist and hauled him to his feet, both of them knocking their gauntlets against the other as a sign of respect. Unsurprisingly, Ravellan won his match over the last mage though from what Solas observed, it was more than a little aggressive.  

With the first round completed, the victors made their way towards the barracks to tend to their injuries and recuperate. Amanatha tended to the participants who lost smiling as they chatted with her and each other about their flaws and how they could improve. Despite losing their matches, the three were ecstatic for the opportunity of being part of the festival. While Amanatha was occupied with her task, Atthon had walked into the chamber with results for the next match. He approached Solas and Ravellan with an amused expression. “It would seem everyone wishes to see you and Ravellan compete in the next round.”  

Ravellan rolled his eyes. “It won’t be much of a match, going against the flat-ear.”  

“Ravellan.” Atthon narrowed his eyes. “Need I remind you how to treat our guests?”  

The warrior averted his gaze at being reprimanded. “No sir.”  

Atthon turned his attention to Solas. “What say you, Solas?”  

“I have no qualms with the arrangement.”  

The Lavellan elder smiled as he departed from the chamber. Ravellan scoffed as he went back to sharpening his sword. “She disappears to that Conclave bullshit then returns with a flat-ear. Strange. You must be quite something to have her even consider having you as a guest to the clan.”  

Solas smirked inwardly. He could easily detect the jealousy in the young man’s voice. However, the apostate remained silent, his eyes wandering over to Amanatha as she finished patching up the injured warrior next. The excited cheers and shouts of the spectators outside started to grow in anticipation as Ravellan exited the barracks and into the arena. Solas was about to follow suit when Amanatha grabbed his arm causing him to turn in confusion. She mouthed two words to him. Be careful . He nodded before entering the arena, silently shaking his head as the young warrior on the opposite end of the arena brandished his sword.  

“Ready to lose?”  

Solas pointed his staff towards Ravellan. “On the contrary, lethallin, I believe this match is set.”  

Chapter Text

Silence fell over the arena, hushed whispers between spectators were barely audible to the two elves in the center of the ring. Ravellan had taken a defensive stance, his shield raised up in front of his body and his sword held close to him. Solas mimicked the stance his staff held behind him, glowing with ice while his free hand had a ward spell ready, the pale blue sparks flickering like an ember ready to ignite. The two men circled each other, trying to size the other up. A bird landed between the two, but neither man paid it any notice. Ravellan’s sword burst into flames, just as ice erupted from Solas’ staff. The sound of the ice crackling startled the bird and as it flew, a feather fluttered between the two warriors’ vision. Taking that as a sign to fight, Ravellan threw the first spell. He swung his sword, a wave of fire racing towards the apostate like a demon of wrath. At the same time, Solas held out his free hand, a pale blue shield of magic forming a dome around him and the flames danced harmlessly around him before flickering into nothingness. Before Ravellan could try and recast his spell, the apostate thrust the spear tipped staff forward and a stream of ice spewed forth around the Dalish warrior.   

Ravellan managed to raise his shield up to deflect most of the spell away but when he tried to advance forward, he felt his foot slide to the right slightly. He quickly turned his gaze downwards and found that he was surrounded by a sheet of ice. The warrior growled, locking eyes with Solas. The apostate purposely prevented him from advancing closer with the ice. Ravellan’s scowl suddenly morphed into a cocky smirk as he raised his sword, flames once again erupting from the metal and he slammed the blade in front of him. The heat from the sword evaporated the icy terrain creating a thick mist that covered the battlefield and hid the warrior with ease.   

Solas frowned as he scanned his surroundings. He was trying to find anything that resembled his quarry. He sought the glint of a sword, the shadow of his shield but found nothing. Then he heard the sound of paws charging behind him. The mage spun around, his staff raised high to protect his face and he was met with the muzzle and fangs of a wolf with golden-brown fur. The extra weight from the wolf caused Solas to land hard on his back. He grunted as he struggled to get a foot under Ravellan’s belly. Once he succeeded, the apostate dislodged the shifter off his body and quickly got to his feet. Ravellan was quite large for a wolf. Slightly smaller than a great bear. The wolf threw his head back, a challenging howl piercing the air before he glared at Solas with piercing burgundy red eyes. Solas hunched over, his left hand now glowing with sparks of lightning. He shifted his weight on his feet, eyes following the wolf as he paced slowly around the Elvhen mage.  

Amanatha was right about Ravellan. He was quite adept as a beast. Solas hissed when the shifter’s claws raked through his shoulder as he blocked another attack with his staff. He cast several runes of fire and lightning around him, trying to keep Ravellan at a distance but that proved to be in vain. Ravellan was more agile than he appeared, weaving like a snake just along the borders of the traps. Solas barely had a moment to cast a barrier to deflect the lunging attack of the wolf. He’s fast. He thought as he nimbly dodged another lunge. And surprisingly precise with his attacks in that form. He let out a yell when Ravellan managed to flank him, and his claws raked across the apostate’s hip. Solas countered the attack with a swift kick to Ravellan’s throat, knocking the young man a few yards away. Solas rested a hand along the wound on his hip and grimaced. The wound was not deep, but it stung like hell.  

Solas glared at Ravellan as the gold wolf smirked tauntingly at him. “What’s the matter, hahren ? Having seconds thoughts?” The wolf flicked his tail almost proudly. “Here I thought I would be proven wrong about you, but it would appear my assumption was correct. You are all bark and no bite.”  

“And you talk too much.” Solas huffed simply as he closed his wounds with a healing spell. “I have heard enough.”  

Ravellan tilted his head but leapt to the side when the apostate shot a spear of ice towards him watching it shatter into powder upon impact. When the warrior turned to berate the flat-ear, he was stunned to find the mage surrounded by a circle of blue flames. Each step he took towards the Dalish warrior had the young man’s fur standing on end. The flames seemed to intensify around Solas until his entire body was obscured by them. Ravellan flattened his ears and bared his fangs only to stiffen when a massive black paw planted itself right in front of his own. The warrior slowly lifted his lupine head, taking in the black coat that was now enveloping his vision. He backed up slightly at the black wolf now standing before him. His eyes were fierce and radiated an aura that made even ice look warm. Ravellan would never admit it, but now he felt intimidated by the apostate. He was a shifter, like he was and massive as well. He looked about the size of a horse, maybe bigger. He shook his head. No, he could not, would not falter now. He needed to win now more than ever. The two wolves glared at each other, deep throaty growls leaving their throats with Solas’ being much more threatening. Ravellan lunged forward, jaws snapping at the black wolf’s leg. Solas effortlessly evaded the bite and sank his fangs into the golden wolf’s scruff. He swung his head, tossing the young pup across the arena watching him catch himself and skid to a stop.  

The crowds watched with bated breath at the sight. The two wolves circled each other once more, the only sound resonating from the arena being the snarls of the two canines. Ravellan charged once more, his fangs grazing against Solas’ cheek as he evaded the attack again only to yelp when the gold wolf whipped around clamped his jaws tightly around the apostate’s shoulder. Solas snarled, gripping his teeth into Ravellan’s right thigh and once again tossed the young male off of him. The Dalish growled as he once again got to his feet, wincing as his leg throbbed from the bite. “I’m not going to lose...” He proclaimed as he bared his fangs once more. Solas flicked his tail nonchalantly, an unimpressed look on his maw. The apostate growled as Ravellan once again tried to charge him but when Solas hunched over, ready to leap to the side, however the young man barreled into his side, knocking him off-balance. Solas let out a strangled howl when the gold wolf dug his claws and fangs into his abdomen and struggled to keep him pinned down.  

The black wolf barked as he got his back legs pressed against the gold wolf’s belly and kicked Ravellan hard. When the young man failed to let go, Solas grabbed the back of the pup’s neck roughly, his fangs piercing through flesh and fur and he forcefully removed the Dalish warrior from his body. Before Ravellan could attempt to bite back, Solas slammed his head against the young shifter’s forehead then tossed him over his head, launching the Dalish high in the air. Solas then turned around just as Ravellan’s body hit the ground and he raced towards him, clamping his jaws around the gold wolf’s throat. Ravellan thrashed and growled as he tried to get his feet under Solas’ belly, trying to dislodge him. The black wolf held fast, his vice-grip tightening along Ravellan’s throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe yet Solas was being careful not to pierce the fragile skin. After a few more tense moments, Ravellan’s body stopped thrashing and he emitted a small whine of defeat, conceding to Solas and yielding to his victory.  

Solas released Ravellan and trotted over to his discarded staff, blue flames wrapping around his body as he reverted back to his more recognizable elvhen self. He collected his staff than returned to the young man as he too reverted back to normal. Solas offered him his hand, a gesture of truce as the battle was over. Ravellan narrowed his eyes at the apostate but gripped his hand and allowed the mage to haul him to his feet. “You fought well.” Solas commented sincerely. “But might I suggest reigning in your temper? A cool head will more often than not grant you victory.”  

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Grumbled Ravellan as he collected his weapons and solemnly walked back towards the barracks.  

The stands erupted in delighted cheers. It had been ten years since someone other than Ravellan had made it to the finals. Amanatha was more than thrilled with the results as she waited for the two elves to return to the chambers. She smiled at Ravellan and offered him her hand to which he reluctantly accepted it before departing to the stands. He did, however, accept the healing potion she had offered him. Once the warrior had left the room, Solas took a seat on one of the benches hissing as he rubbed his shoulder then began tending to his injuries. He bowed his head in thanks when Amanatha dealt with his shoulder wound while he mended his abdomen. Silence permeated the air around them, the soft tingling of their healing spells being the only thing breaking the quiet. Once he was fully healed, Solas glanced at Amanatha. “You were right about him being vicious.”  

“He really tore into you yet you shrugged it off as though his attacks were merely insect bites.” The Dalish woman noted and Solas chuckled in response.  

“I had a thick coat.” He told her simply.  

Amanatha chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, a thick wiry coat that could use a brushing.”  

“Bite me.”  

She smirked and he blushed at her comment. “Later, vhenan .”  

He huffed looking away from her trying to hide his red face.  

Chapter Text

Amanatha had already departed into the arena before he did. The deafening roars of the audience seemed to echo everywhere in the city. The spectators were eagerly awaiting this match. It had been a decade since they had witnessed someone new face against the Inquisitor. Solas leaned against the wall, admiring the woman awaiting him in the arena. Her hair was tied up in a braided bun, her wolf mask hiding her face and whatever expression she was bearing out of view. Atthon was in the center of the ring as well, expressing his delight in the turnout so far for the festival. He turned towards the apostate and waved him over as he finished his speech. Solas wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous welling up inside him as he strolled towards the elder and younger Lavellan. He slowly stood before Amanatha with Atthon standing between them. He noticed the Inquisitor motioning with her hand for him to take a breath and he did, willing himself to relax. 

“Now, the battle we all have been looking forward to: Solas!” Atthon gestured to the apostate first then swept his hand towards Amanatha. “Versus Fen’Harel’s reigning champion: Amanatha!” 

The Dalish woman smirked under her mask as she held up her armored wrist towards him. When the apostate returned the gesture, the Inquisitor spoke softly. “Ready?” He nodded in response and she beamed at him. “Don’t hold back.” 

“I was about to say the same to you.” 

They moved away from each other to take their positions in the arena. Amanatha brandished her daggers, sparks of lightning dancing along the blades surface. Solas spun his staff behind him as he hunched over, ice radiating around him while he kept his eyes on the woman. Unlike his battle with Ravellan where he waited for his opponent to strike, Solas had seen how Amanatha was in battle. She often started off with an explosive arrow, so he conjured a magical barrier around himself. He smirked confidently. If his hunch was right, she would try to bring the barrier down with her arrow then try rush in for a flurry of attacks. However, he was proven wrong when the elvhen woman rushed towards him then skid around behind him. He barely had time to react as he blocked the flurry of blades crashing down on him. He gritted his teeth at the power she had exerted on his barrier. He held out his palm as fire danced around his fingers and the woman immediately backed off just in time to avoid getting singed. 

She grinned confidently as she twirled her daggers before she charged towards him once more. Just as he was about to block with his staff, Amanatha got right in his personal space and landed a strong punch into the mage’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. She was about to tap the blunt edge of her dagger under his chin when he stepped backwards, his body becoming corporeal and he Fade-stepped out of reach. Her grin only grew. “That’s a neat trick.” She commented as he solidified a few yards away from her. “Perhaps you might teach me that in the future?” 

“Perhaps.” He smirked coyly. 

He let out a yell of surprise when she fired an arrow at him and raised his hand to deflect the projectile however, just as the arrowhead brushed against the translucent barrier in front of him, it exploded with a bright flash. His pupils narrowed at the blinding light and immediately shield his eyes with his arm. He growled when he felt his barrier dissipate and when he opened his eyes, he found his vision was still blurry. His ears twitched to the sound of footsteps rushing towards him and furrowed his brows intensely. He moved to the left, feeling a sharp gust of wind brush past him. Sensing another attack, he crossed his arms in front of his chest just in time to feel Amanatha’s boot slam into him causing him to almost stumble backwards. Solas twitched his ears again, detecting movement on his left! He ducked, avoiding another swipe of her blade and his palm struck her stomach as he used a Mindblast spell to repel her.  

He heard her let out a surprised grunt then opened his eyes once more, now blinking away the tiny dots of light littering his vision. He got into casting position once more when Amanatha grumbled and combined her daggers once more to create a bow. She took aim at the sky and unleashed several arrows made of lightning. Solas felt his eyes widen as he saw the tiny shadows of the projectiles above him. He glided away from each arrow only to soon find himself surround by them as they sparked with electricity. The apostate chuckled slightly. He could easily dispel them. He leveled his staff before him, another spell ready to be cast when he found himself staring at Amanatha in alarm. Her body was sparking with lightning and her eyes were focused solely on him. Before Solas could question her intentions, the electric arrows surrounding him started crackling to life as well. Solas spun around watching as each arrow sparked with light then felt goosebumps rising on his skin. He slammed the tip of his staff into the ground, another barrier spiraling around him in a silvery bubble of magic.  

Amanatha surged forward, her entire frame encased in lightning as she leapt through the electricity at a blinding speed. She collided against the barrier, delivering only glancing blows but each attack she landed, Solas saw his barrier visibly cracking. What surprised him more was the increasing speed the Elvhen woman was exerting. It was like she was riding the electric currents but how? Then he witnessed her following the path of the arrows she had fired earlier and laughed in amazement. Ingenius! She’s using the branches of lightning radiating from the arrows as platforms and markers ! He thought but his awe was short lived for Amanatha next strike completely shattered his barrier leaving him open for attack. Thinking quickly, the apostate cast a thin blanket of ice around him, freezing the arrows and cutting the Inquisitor off from her markers. 

“Very clever.” Solas gestured to the arrows as they ceased releasing mana. “You pulled from the Fade to manifest the arrows then used your own affinity for lightning to increase your speed.” 

She was panting as he observed her attack. “Indeed, I did.” 

“However, it looks like it took a toll on you as well. A gambit perhaps?”  

Amanatha remained silent though her smile returned under her mask. “Correct again.” 

Solas nodded silently as he removed his staff from the ground then with a sweeping motion sent a wave of fire towards the woman. Amanatha held out a hand, a small barrier deflecting it harmlessly away from her. As the flames evaporated, she let out a gasp. Solas had vanished! She quickly got into a defensive position, carefully spinning around trying to deduce where the apostate would try and ambush her from. A faint shimmer from the corner of her left eye was her only warning. She quickly brought her arms up to protect her chest only to growl when he landed a firm punch to her ribcage. Or so she thought. She felt her body seize for moment as electricity coursed through her and she blinked in surprised. She had expected him to use Mindblast again to knock her back but instead used lightning.  

“Finally stopped holding back?” She laughed happily.  

The apostate smirked. “After you trapped me in that lightning cage, yes.”  

“Good.” 

Atthon watched the match with great interest as well as the rest of the spectators. It was like watching a dance. When they thought Amanatha had the apostate by grabbing hold of his staff, Solas managed to block the incoming dagger with his wrist gauntlet and redirect the energy away from him and allowing him to free his weapon. He brought the spearhead of the staff to her throat causing her to falter her assault for a brief moment. She gritted her teeth in annoyance as she batted the offending metal away while also casting a small wave of fire in the process. The mage hated to admit it, but he was starting to realize just how formidable the woman was. When he believed to have her on the defensive she would always turn the battle to her favor. If he used runes to keep her at bay, she would transform her daggers into a bow to fire arrows at him or his barriers. Solas was also at a major disadvantage when she chose close-quarters combat.  

He hissed when she rammed her shoulder against his chest to gain more ground and he staggered backwards. He threw a frost rune beneath her feet and witnessed her become encased in the wall of ice. She glared at him from her prison. He was already breathing hard at the exertion. He had never sparred let alone battled this hard in a very long time and it was a little disconcerting to him knowing just how rusty he was in combat. Perhaps Amanatha was right about having him try asking Blackwall or Iron Bull to help him with melee and weapons… 

He warily approached the ice prison, keeping his weapon raised. He knew she was up to something just by observing her body language through the frozen crystal. Then he saw her place two fingers on the frozen barrier followed by another spark of lightning. He cursed as he saw the ice visibly crack and just as the prison shattered, the apostate stepped forward, Fade-Stepping towards the Inquisitor to avoid the daggers of ice flying rapidly towards him. She managed to whirl around and wrap her fingers along the cowl of his armor and she grinned. “Got you.” She stated as she tried to cast another lightning spell but Solas was not about to lose to the young woman. He smacked his head against her mask causing her to reel backwards. Taking advantage of her loss of balance, the mage swung his staff, bringing it to collide into the back of Amanatha’s knee. She fell flat on her back with a pained grunt, but before she could even attempt to scramble to her feet, she felt the cold bite of the spearhead touching her throat. She glanced up at Solas, his sides heaving from their battle but he was smirking. 

“Do you yield, Champion of Fen’Harel?” He panted, sweat trailing down his face. He saw that the Inquisitor looked just as ragged as he felt.  

Amanatha grunted as her head dropped to the earth, her throat exposed to him. Defeated and dominated. “Aye... I yield.”  

He smirked to himself. She still looked regal even after the loss. He removed the spear from her throat and offered her his free hand as the crowd cheered. Amanatha grumbled softly but smiled as the mage helped her to her feet. He held up his wrist, the metal gauntlet still gleaming in the sunlight and she sighed with a soft smile before clanking her own wrist against his. While she was disappointed that she lost, she was thrilled to have had such a challenge. Atthon swooped down to the center of the ring and held up his hands to quell the excited citizens.  

“What an exhilarating battle! I do not just speak for myself when I say that I was on the edge of my seat watching the two of you!” He said patting both of them on the shoulder. “I must admit, Solas, my money was on my daughter, but you pulled out quite a few tricks worthy of the Dreadwolf himself and Amanatha, you gave it all you got thinking outside the box as usual. But now we have a new Champion! Solas! Congratulations on your victory!” 

Solas bowed his head respectfully then blinked in confusion when the Inquisitor removed her mask and presented it to him. "Since you have bested me, I pass on the mask of Fen'Harel's champion to you. Congratulations, Solas."

"Thank you for such an invigorating battle." He smiled earning a smirk from the Inquisitor.

Soon the two elves departed to the barracks to tend to their injuries and to shed off their armor. They were greeted by the other contestants who immediately swarmed the apostate in excitement. They asked him so many questions as to how he managed to defeat the previous champion despite having never competed before. Amanatha snickered to herself as she leaned against the wall watching the apostate trying to avoid the questions and adoration of his new fans. When he flashed her a pleading look for aid, Amanatha clapped her hands ushering the others out of the room iterating that Solas needed some space to process his victory and that there would be plenty of time for questions once he had recovered from the battle. Once they were alone once more, Solas sighed, redirecting his attention to removing his armor.  

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He heard Amanatha inquire as she finished removing her own armor. 

Solas hummed thoughtfully. “It certainly was an experience I won’t soon forget.” He then peeked around the corner and found the Inquisitor had already changed back into her tunic and breeches. “Is that all there was for the festival?” 

“Hahaha! No, we still have the grand feast later tonight, then the festival will be over after the embers of the fire die. Sadly, after tonight, we will have to depart to the Western Approach to meet up with the others. We still have the sack of ancient Tevinter bones to deal with.” Amanatha explained as she noticed Solas struggling with the clasps on his back. She planted her hands on his shoulders in a silent order for him to remain still while she helped with the armor. She unclipped and removed the more complicated pieces of armor before he took care of the rest. They fell into a pleasant silence as he reacclimated to his usual attire before following Amanatha out of the arena. Already, the streets were packed with people heading towards the fields and other parts of the city. Amanatha smiled as she explained the reasoning. With the tournament now concluded, the citizens needed to start preparing the food and decorations for the grand feast tonight. However, Solas was interested in investigating the library beforehand. Deciding to part ways for the time being, the apostate waved a brief farewell before strolling towards one of the crystal spires. Amanatha chuckled watching the man practically jog towards the building. 

“If you give a mage a tome, he’ll seek a library.” She giggled. “Aptly put, Wisdom...” 

Chapter Text

Solas was beside himself with glee as he strolled the seamlessly endless halls of knowledge. Spirits of Wisdom were gliding along the shelves, returning scrolls and books to their proper places. The mage was currently engrossed in a rather engaging conversation with another spirit learning all he could when someone clearing their throat pulled him from his thoughts. Atthon was standing behind him with a knowing look on his face before he reminded the apostate of the feast that would be transpiring in the next hour and that he should probably freshen up. When Solas stole a glimpse outside, he was stunned to find that the sun was beginning to set. He quickly placed his books and tomes back onto their proper shelves and hastily followed the elder outside. Atthon guided him back to the house where they found Amanatha sitting in the living quarters, combing her damp tresses having already cleaned herself up. Not needing any prompting, the mage quickly disappeared to freshen up himself. When he returned to the room now dressed in a deep green and gold tunic that Atthon had lent him, he found himself alone in the house. He opened the door and discovered Tarasyl and Thestral waiting him instead. The dracolisk snorted softly before trotting off towards a congregation of lights in the distance.  

He attempted to follow but he let out a surprised grunt when the gryphon nudged his chest then turned his head towards his back. “You want me to climb on?” 

Tarasyl let out a happy coo of affirmation. 

Solas smiled as he climbed onto the creature’s back, just behind the wing joint. He ran his fingers through the soft feathers then scratched the fur on Tarasyl’s shoulders eliciting a playful chirp from the animal. The gryphon shook his avian head and leapt into the air, his wings unfurling as he caught a strong breeze then with a powerful flap, soared towards the gathering of lights. It had been a long time since he had flown on a gryphon. He had almost forgotten how exhilarating it was to fly above the land. He leaned over the side to look down at the earth below. He saw a massive bonfire in a large open field and a large circle of tents that could fit large crowds several feet away from the massive fire. Elves, gryphons and even other creatures arrived near the rim of the crowd. Tarasyl chirped as he made his descent towards the edge of the crowd where everyone was grabbing plates and bowls of food. Upon, landing, the mage gracefully slid off the creature to admire the sight. Many of the men were dressed in a similar fashion as he was, and women were dressed in simple but elegant dresses. He laughed softly when a few children ran past him to join their families. Solas was observing a few of the guards helping with hanging a vibrant tapestry of old. It depicted a familiar figure, and he quickly realized that it was an old tapestry telling the tale of the Dreadwolf but unlike the Dalish renditions of this tale, this one shared the true story of his past. 

His thoughts were quickly stolen from him when he felt someone tugging on his right hand and when he glanced down, he found the young elvhen child he and Amanatha helped before staring up at him with her bright blue eyes. “Sit with me and Natha!”  

“Alright, da’len .” He chuckled as he allowed her to guide him towards the front row. He quickly found Amanatha donning a deep blue dress already sitting down on a plush rug with an assortment of food in front of her. She stole one look at him and her face scrunched up in laughter as the little girl took a seat on his left while he sat beside the Inquisitor.  

“That’s a good color on you.” She whispered her compliment, eyes roaming over the apostate. 

Solas smirked. “Thank you, Inquisitor, though I must say that shade of blue is lovely on you.” 

She looked away, blushing slightly. Solas reached for an apple only to notice a scowl on the little girl’s face, and he flicked his eyes between Amanatha and the child. The Inquisitor leaned over and whispered to him that he still had to wait to eat. He feigned his disappointment but set the apple back down. Soon, everyone began to gather around and Atthon emerged from around the fire, his robes a resplendent silver and cobalt color. He spoke in both Elvhen and Common Tongue, ushering everyone to find a seat, even laughing when a little boy ran by him to sit in his mother’s lap. “My children... my family and friends.” He began as he circled slowly around the fire, as he made a sweeping gesture to everyone. “Let us give thanks for this bountiful food harvested by our amazing farmers and hunters, for which this feast could not have been made possible without them. Let us also give thanks for such an amazing tournament! Such a spectacular display of magic and more, though I am sure Amanatha is probably already plotting her strategies in reclaiming her title from our newest Champion.” Amanatha stuck her tongue out at Atthon earning chuckles and laughter from the other elves, though she didn’t seem to mind. 

Atthon soon stood before Solas, a soft smile on his slightly wrinkled face. “And finally, let us also gives thanks to Solas, not only as the new champion, but also one we honor here tonight.” 

“Ir abelas, but I wish you wouldn’t.” Solas said softly while shaking his head slightly, ignoring the soft applause of the other elves. “I have not done anything worth honoring.” 

Amanatha turned her head slightly in confusion, a small frown on her face. She caught a glimpse of what looked to be a sorrowful expression on Solas’ face and she placed a hand on his knee. Atthon offered the mage another smile. The elder Lavellan glanced fondly at his daughter then began to speak once more. “First you save Amanatha from the brink of death when she escaped the Conclave. Then you rescued her from freezing to death when Corypheus attacked Haven and finally, you found a way to remove her vallaslin wrongfully forced on her. You think that is nothing?” Atthon tilted his head then knelt down and like a father, turned Solas’ gaze back to his lowering his voice to that of a whisper that only he could hear. “It seems you have forgotten what is worthy of honor.” 

Solas watched as Atthon approached the tapestry and ran his fingers along the tassels and held onto a piece of string. When the hahren inquired what the apostate saw, Solas merely shrugged. “It’s just a piece of string.” 

“A single string indeed. Vibrant in color and yet unassuming at first glance.” Atthon chuckled before running his hand along the tapestry, his fingers gliding along each thread. “That is until you look at the pattern of the grand design.” He then pointed at the mountains in the distance. “And the stones that sit atop the mountains’ mighty faces... do you think they believe themselves to be more important than the ones that form the base?” 

Solas once again averted his gaze then glanced down at the hand still on his knee. Amanatha had a soft gaze on her features as she gave his knee a comforting squeeze. He glanced back at Atthon and shook his head to his question. “You know why that is?” The Lavellan leader pressed him and Solas shook his head once more but the words he spoke next had the mage glancing between Amanatha and Atthon. “It is a matter of perspective. You cannot see what your life is worth or where your values lie because you are living the experience. However, through the eyes of another, through the eyes of the heavens, they see your worth far beyond what you will ever see. Something to think about, don’t you think da’len ?” 

When the bald mage remained silent, Atthon patted the man’s head as though he were a young boy receiving advice from his father earning a slight annoyed look. The old elf stated that the mage ought not worry about looking for answers for in time as in all things, the answers one seeks will come to them in their own ways. Atthon soon waved at the minstrels and lively music began to play and he took his daughter’s hand to dance with her. Rhythmic beating of drums, the soft chirps of flutes and the playful vibrations of lutes began to resonate over the fires causing some of the villagers to dance and sing. The song they seemed to be singing had no lyrics, at least not Solas’ ears but he could feel the emotions behind the song. Liberation from tyranny. Freedom to fly like the gryphons and dragons. He spotted a few children dancing with their families along with young Elvhen couples shifting into animals prancing and circling each other as though in courtship dancing. 

He rose to his feet, feeling the heat of the bonfire flicker and roar as some of the villagers started doing a dance around the flames. He felt the little girl from earlier tugging on his sleeve as though urging him to dance as well, though he was relieved that her gryphon distracted her and swept her away to dance with her parents. The mage seemed content to stand near the tapestry, clapping with the other wall-flowers in sync with the music. It was breath-taking to watch such levity and laughter. He saw Amanatha dancing gracefully near the fire, a scarf of silk in her hand as she spun and weaved like a leaf on the wind as though her body was possessed by the music playing loudly in the air. The woman twirled elegantly around out of Solas’ line of sight, biting her lower lip in mischief. She lightly wrapped her scarf around his neck and lightly tugged him towards the group.  

“Dance with me.” She insisted. 

He shook his head with a soft laugh, hands reaching up to try and remove the fabric however the Inquisitor was not taking no for an answer this time. She gave the scarf another tug, causing him to step forward instinctively and she took his hands, eyes bright and full of life again. 

“Alright...” He relented as he followed her lead. 

In all honesty, Solas did not regret dancing with her. Nor did he regret enjoying the rest of the festivities. He and Amanatha circled one other with only the silk ribbon tying them together. The woman twirled closer to him, the scarf tightening as her back pressed against his chest. She batted her eyes, and he chuckled as he pulled the fabric causing her to slowly spin away from him. The two laughed merrily as the music continued to play around them. He didn’t know how much time had passed only that the music stopped playing when the moon was at its highest point. Atthon had shooed the two elves back home to rest as they had to be up at dawn to continue their journey towards the Western Approach.  

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Dawn came sooner than Amanatha would have liked but it couldn’t be helped. They had to get moving. The woman stretched her arms over her head, alleviating the stiffness from the night before then proceeded to get herself ready for the trip. She was finishing up her hair when she walked into the living room where she found her father sitting at the table with his paints and a small locket that he was painting in. She greeted him with her usual smile but her father could easily spot the hollowness within it. She didn’t want to leave home so soon but she had a duty to fulfill. She watched her father set down his brush and stroll over to her, holding her tightly in his arms. She knew he didn’t want her to leave either. 

He lifted her chin and flashed her a proud smile. Atthon was very proud of his daughter, but he was also very worried for her. She was only supposed to investigate the Conclave and instead she became entangled with human affairs. On top of that, an undead Tevinter Magister was on the loose intent on killing her for just being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, he knew his daughter well. Much like him, she would never allow such a threat to linger on the face of Thedas and luckily for her, she had plenty of allies to aid her though most of them were humans. His thoughts were interrupted when Solas wandered into the room, packed and ready for the journey. Atthon kissed his daughter’s brow and whispered for her to go and get Thestral ready while he got some supplies procured for the two elves. Before Solas could follow, the Lavellan leader held out an arm, halting his progress informing the mage that he wished to speak privately with him for a bit before they left. 

Amanatha removed her dracolisk from his stall then began prepping him for the ride. She glanced down at Tarasyl who bumped his head against her shoulder, Thestral’s saddlebag in his beak. She laughed as she took the bag then scratched the gryphon’s chin affectionately. Thestral snorted as he nudged his feathery friend’s head with his own. Once the mount was saddled and ready, Amanatha cleaned the stall then waited near the front of the house for her companion to arrive. She didn’t have to wait long as her father and Solas walked out of the building, though the apostate had a solemn look on his face. She gave him a worried look and he held up a hand, a small smile forming on his lips in reassurance. Amanatha glared at her father who laughed. “Do not worry, Amanatha. Just a father talking with a man interested in his daughter.” He grinned and the woman groaned burying her face into her dracolisk’s neck. Thestral made a snickering sort of growl at his mistress’ expense. 

“We should start our journey, Inquisitor.” Solas piped in before climbing up onto the saddle. 

Amanatha frowned, not really wanting to say goodbye so soon but Solas was right. They needed to get moving. She accepted his outstretched hand and he pulled her up on to the saddle in front of him and she felt him wrap his free hand around her waist. Atthon stood beside the dracolisk, eyes firmly locked on the apostate. A silent conversation seemed to transpire between the two men before they both gripped the other’s arm, a sort of promise that Amanatha was left tilting her head in confusion. Whatever it was, the two seemed to merely nod before Solas released the elder’s arm first. “Keep her safe, Solas.” Atthon said glancing at his daughter. 

“I will do my best.” The mage said before urging the dracolisk into a brisk trot and the two departed from the Emerald Graves. 

~~~~~~~~

(Above is Solas' attire for the festival)

(Above is the style Amanatha and the other female elves are wearing but hers is mostly blue.)

(Above is Atthon's outfit.)

(The tapestry on display near the bonfire.)

Chapter Text

The two had been traveling for about eight hours when they decided to take a break. They had managed to pass through the Arbor Wilds with little trouble but Thestral was in dire need of a rest from carrying his charges. Currently, Amanatha and Solas were near a lake enjoying a small lunch when they spotted someone traveling along the road. Or rather, two. The two elves were immediately on edge. Bandits were known for traveling along these roads and had a habit of ambushing unexpecting merchants. Worse yet, slavers had also been known to traverse the area kidnapping elves and selling them to Tevinter. As the strangers came into view, the Inquisitor suddenly noticed movement from behind several rock formations. Solas noticed it too, but he was observing first. Unsurprising to the elves, the movement they spotted was from bandits as the small group ambushed what appeared to be two humans making their way along the main road. Also, unsurprisingly to Solas, Amanatha was already racing towards the couple with her bow in hand, keen on helping the two humans.  

The bandits were no match for the mage and Inquisitor though the two did sustain a few injuries. Amanatha hissed as she tended to a few slashes on her arm and Solas was nursing a puncture on his shin. “Thank you so much Monsieur and Ma’dame .” The human woman said in a deep Orleisan accent.  

“Yes, thank you so much.” The woman’s male counterpart added in a Fereldan accent. “We thought we would be safe traveling these paths, but it would seem we were mistaken.”  

Amanatha glanced at the two. “Where are you heading? You two are a long way from both Orelais and Fereldan.”  

“We are going to visit my wife’s family in Emprise de Lione.” The gentleman explained. “We heard that they were dealing with some ruffians and thought we could aid them but with those Red Templars causing havoc throughout the lands, we thought to avoid the main roads.”  

The Inquisitor hummed curiously. It was true that the Red Templars had been causing trouble and even the Inquisition was struggling to keep them off the main roads, but it was still strange to see an Orelesian married to a Fereldan. Then again, love acted in strange ways too. She and Solas were about to depart, not really wanting to linger much longer when the woman suddenly stopped the two elves once more. She insisted on healing their wounds as a means of thanking them for their assistance. At first, Amanatha and Solas were hesitant. They could easily heal themselves with their magic, but they didn’t want to appear rude to a potential ally. The two elves quickly expressed their concerns amongst each other but ultimately agreed to allow the aid. The woman tended to Amanatha’s wounds first.  

“I must apologize in advance, my lady. I am still learning the trade of healing.” Said the woman as she dabbed the wound with a cloth dampened by a salve mixture of elfroot and dawn lotus.  

Once she finished with that, the woman wrapped Amanatha’s arm carefully and informed her that the wound would be closed by tomorrow morning. The Inquisitor then observed the human as she set to work on the puncture on Solas’ leg. Lucky for them, his wound only looked bad and was an easy fix. He muttered his thanks but quickly moved away from the humans to stand beside Amanatha. They waved farewell to the pair as they walked further along the roads and the two elves slowly made their way back to Thestral who gave them a scolding look for wandering off without saying anything. After another moment of rest, they set off towards the Western Approach, still a couple days away from their destination.  

~~~~~~~~  

“Do you think they felt for it?” Samson groaned as he felt the illusion spell on his body finally dissipated and he brushed off his pauldrons. He glanced at the woman beside him as she rubbed the make-up from her face revealing the tattoos of Anduril on her cheeks.  

Mienassan chuckled as the vision of the Oreleisian woman faded and the Dalish returned to her normal image. She tied her reddish-brown hair into a loose ponytail before leaning against the large boulder behind her. She turned her head towards the Red Templar general. “If there is one thing I know about my daughter, it is that she will always help a soul in need.” She then produced two cloths. One with blood from Amanatha and the other was from the flat-ear. “In the end, we got what we need.”  

Samson rolled his eyes as he followed after the woman along the road towards their camp which was located within an ancient elvhen ruin. The human shuddered as they passed through the magical barrier that prevent anyone but the two from entering. In the center of the camp, a roaring fire with pot of boiling herbs over the flames. Mienassan sauntered over to the pot and carefully pried the lid off. The liquid inside was glowing with a bright purple color and bubbled ominously. She set the pot down before her and planted herself in front of it watching Samson gag at the putrid smell emanating from the bowl. “By the Maker! That reeks!” He exclaimed, covering his nose and mouth.  

“It only smells because it’s missing the main ingredients.”  

“I thought soul binding was simply blood magic.” He coughed and Mienassan shook her head.  

She held the cloth containing the flat-eared apostate’s blood first and had her other hand hover over it while whispering a soft spell. The blood in the cloth slowly levitated out of the fabric and danced eerily around her fingertips. “There is a ritual among the Dalish that requires blood like this but its results only allow the couple doing the ritual to sense each other’s emotions.” She explained, guiding the hemoglobin orb into the pot, smiling as the liquid changed to a faint green. “What I have planned is a bit different. Can you pass me the small vial of red lyrium?”  

Samson huffed as he sifted through his satchel and produced a small vial the size of a tooth with a glowing red liquid within it. He strolled over to the Dalish woman and handed her the bottle. She gingerly plucked it from the templar’s hand and set it aside as she proceeded to extract the blood from the cloth she used on Amanatha. While the Inquisitor’s blood hovered over her hand, Mienassan popped open the vial and with a delicate hand applied half the vial into the pot then the rest into the floating orb of blood. She waited for a minute before guiding the orb into the bubbling mixture. She grinned when the contents changed from green to molten gold. “Is it ready?” Samson grumbled as the smell finally dissipated and he loomed over Mienassan’s shoulder to study the liquid.  

“Stop looming over me, shemlen or you’ll compromise the ritual.” Snapped the woman as she shooed him away. “This is where things will get complicated. Binding souls like this will take time and if not done right, the binding won’t work.”  

“So, what exactly makes this ritual different from other binding rituals?”  

Mienassan sighed in annoyance. “Unlike the blood ritual used by the Dalish for marriages like this, we aren’t binding them spiritually. We are taking it a step further. They will feel each other’s emotions, yes and there are other benefits that I won’t bore you with but ultimately, if one dies, the other will as well. Two birds, one stone.” She then shook her head. “Unfortunately, considering the complexity of the ritual, it will take a couple days to fully activate.”  

“You said the moon will be full and that it was a good thing.”  

Mienassan flashed a grin. “Oh, so you were paying attention. Yes, the full moon will be instrumental in this.” She watched as two gold threads slithered up from the pot swaying lazily from side to side. “The moon’s light is magical thing when it comes to soul binding. There’s a certain... energy it gives off and it has a powerful pull on those in love.”  

“Ah... that makes sense.” The templar rolled his eyes, unconvinced.  

The Dalish woman huffed at the man’s skepticism and returned to her work. She held up both her hands. Her left hand glowed with a faint red light while the right radiated the same gold color as the thread. She closed her eyes and flexed her fingers in way that was similar to weaving string in a tapestry, the spell leaving her lips as she spun the soul threads.  

“ Thar i backmadic-o gilith a anand, im pose hi covenant sublime. An Fen’Harel, a radag na naur hi wiladshina bui er na temper hon solas a ire. I isuenatha touched a tiichai mrith i rod tii rodyn -o Sou’tarasyl naud hi na a rod trii rodyn ú- hen kurjh na Fen- i letnic-o i garav. Bui asta jiquen re hain engrema unto kyri lyrik’s amarth malrak, bellanaris a uireb naud, a kyri lyrik’s naeg resound. ”  

The red sparks of her magic latched onto each of the gold threads still swaying about and as though she were sewing a piece of fabric, the red sparks drew the two threads together. She curled her fingers slightly, pulling the two threads closer. She smirked as the red flecks of magic seamlessly fused the golden tendrils together and the smile grew even more when the threads shifted into a brilliant silvery white. “Well, I wasn’t expecting this at all but this is perfect.”  

“What am I missing here?” The Red Templar general huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.  

“You see how the threads changed from gold to silvery white?”  

He shrugged. “What about it?”  

“Stupid human...” Mienassan grumbled under her breath before speaking a little louder. “It means that their bond is a Pristine one and that proves that they are a perfect match for each other.”  

“And this helps the Elder One how exactly?”  

“Think, you idiot!” She hissed. “Once they seal the bond tonight under the moon, all he needs to do is kill one of them and they both die! Life-bond if you will. When one falls, the other follows. Do you understand now?”  

Samson growled at the demeaning tone in the elf woman’s voice. He returned to his tent leaving the woman to her own devices. His master trusted her enough with this task and that was good enough for him. He would proceed with his mission while Mienassan completed hers. He wrote a letter for the Venatori’s faction leader in the Western Approach and left detailed instructions from the Elder One on how to proceed now that the Inquisitor was being taken care of.  

Chapter Text

Night had fallen over the two elves but they were still several hours away from their destination. Solas was just about to suggest the two push onwards when Thestral snorted and tossed his head, his nostrils flaring. The two elves quickly dismounted from the dracolisk and Amanatha patted his neck. She ran her fingers along the animal’s legs next, feeling them tremble from exhaustion. She lifted her head towards the mage as he, too, slid from the saddle. The animal was too exhausted to travel any further and the Dalish woman was not about to risk their safety traveling at night. The two were also along the borders of the Arbor Wilds and the Western Approach mountains. Bandits had a tendency to attack unwary travelers and she was not going be added to that list. Amanatha gripped the bridle on her dracolisk and guided the animal off the road close to a large pond surround by heavy thickets and trees. Solas did not sense any malicious spirits but he began setting up wards around the camp just to be safe.

While Solas was busy, Amanatha relieved her mount of his burdens and chuckled when the animal dropped to the earth and made an exasperated huff in the grass. The woman rolled her eyes and started pitching up a tent. By the time the mage finished his work, the Inquisitor was already igniting a fire to cook their meal on. They ate in relative silence on the dried goods Atthon had given them for their travels. Amanatha then caught a glimpse of light upon the water. Spotting her gaze, Solas turned his head watching what looked to be tiny gold wisps of light dancing along the surface. “Seems like the wisps are up to something.”

“More like they are interested in the moon’s reflection on the water.” Solas corrected. “A comforting sight before retiring to bed.”

Amanatha hummed in agreement before rising to her feet. “Do you wish to use the tent or shall I assume you wish to stay out here and enjoy they dance in the pale moonlight?”

“You know me too well, Vhenan.”

She patted his shoulder before closing the tent flap behind her. Solas turned his attention back to the wisps enjoying their playful dance along the surface of the water, smiling when they tapped the water to create ripples. They raced and bounced along the waves leaving a trail of glittering dewdrops in their wake. As he observed their ballet, the mage swore he saw pale blue wisps of light descending from the streaks of moonlight above. Thinking them to be just a trick of the light, Solas simply ignored them. The wisps of light spun and twirled over the water, mingling with the blue particles of light then fluttered over towards the mage and the tent. Confused, he held out his hand, a small smile on his face when several tiny orbs landed in his palm. They bounced excitedly as several blue wisps plopped on his shoulders sending warm shivers down his spine.

“What are you doing, my little friends?” He chuckled as the orbs bounced off his shoulders and disappeared into the Inquisitor’s tent.

The mage wasn’t worried about the spirits harming the Inquisitor but something compelled him to follow them. He pulled the tent flap and witness the little balls of light dancing around the sleeping elf woman under the fur blankets. It was a lovely sight to observe. The wisps would lovingly brush against Amanatha’s cheek earning a sleepy giggle from the woman. He found himself bewitched by the sight. Suddenly, he felt his body craving to touch her skin, to feel her warmth. He crawled up beside her under the furs and he slipped an arm around her waist, gently pulling her close to him. She stirred and rolled over so that her body was facing his and she burrowed her face against his shoulder. The moment her body touched his, the second he felt her breath against his skin, Solas made a soft hiss when her eyes fluttered open and she gazed into his eyes sleepily and confused.

“You alright?”

As always, she put his needs before hers. He gave her a small nod. “I am fine. I just thought you would like to enjoy this experience in the Fade as well.”

“Are you asking me to join you?”

He smiled coyly. “I believe I am.”

She snuggled closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her. She closed her eyes once more focusing on the soft thrumming of his heart and the comforting rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He counted down from three and the two fell into a deep sleep, the wisps still dancing over their bodies.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanatha was the first to emerge in the Fade. She willed her mind and body to focus on the dream before her causing the reflection of the waking world to fully manifest. She could already see the wisps from earlier circling the water’s surface with the moon reflecting in the center. She turned her head slightly as the dream shimmered, indicating another was joining her and she greeted Solas with a bright smile. The apostate returned the sentiment and they each found a nice spot to watch the spirits’ ballet. Amanatha was perched on a path of soft grass overlooking the vastness of the pond while Solas preferred to sit cross-legged on a flatbed rock. A few moments of silence slid past them and soon the wisps and spirits began their recital in full swing. Spirits of Faith and Compassion swayed like elegant dancers over the water as though they were gliding on ice. The wisps would weave between each of the spirits as though adding more emotion and depth to their ballet with their changing colors. Soon, spirits of Valor emerged from the depths of the water to join in the dance, the wisps changing from a pale blue or white-gold to ambers and reds. Amanatha had never seen such a display and was completely engrossed with their movements, occasionally swaying along with them. She let out a little laugh when a wisp spun around her when she started humming as though encouraging her to sing for them.

She rose to her feet and started to dance along with the wisps, enjoying the faint giggles and laughter from the other spirits. She even caught Solas watching her in amusement. She held out her hand as an orb of blue light bounced in her open palm then spiraled around her leaving a trail of light in its wake. Amanatha soon stopped her dance when she noticed Solas once again having that same solemn look on his face. Like he was dwelling on something. Even the wisps sensed it and were circling him like fireflies trying to cheer him up to no avail. He’s hiding something. I know it but what it is I can’t decide. I wonder why he won’t be the man I know he is, the one I see deep inside him. She thought as he spared her a glance and tight, thin smile. She smiled back then tapped her chin in thought before snapping her fingers, an idea popping in her head.

Solas was enjoying the dancing of the spirits and wisps. Truly, he was but as he studied the swaying corporeal figures and spinning orbs of light, his mind had begun to wander to times long since passed. He stared at his reflection in the water, a weak smile forming as he watched Amanatha dancing with the spirits. It always made him feel at peace watching her interact with them. He soon began to reflect on how close they had become, how she was willing to take things slow. How she asked what he wanted. Solas lifted his head once more, his eyes once again settling on her. Her spirit shone brighter than the rest of the spirits within the area. It was warm and inviting. So accepting and protective. Patient and loving. So many things to tell her. Yet I do not know how I can make her see it. I want to tell her about the past. He lowered his gaze back the water, a wisp whistling by his reflection. Impossible. She would turn away from me... No. Rather, I would probably run away from her. When he lifted his chin, he blinked to find Amanatha backing up along the shore. Perplexed he tilted his head, and had an equally confused expression on his face when she winked at him.

He watched as she took a running start and leapt into the water with a large splash causing the spirits and wisps to scatter, laughing in amusement. He leaned over the rock and scanned the waves disturbing the top. He soon spotted a flurry of bubbles appear on his left. The look of confusion quickly transformed into a look surprise when Amanatha rose up halfway out of the water and he felt her arms wrap around his neck and shoulders then before he knew it, he was pulled into the water too! He quickly resurfaced gasping for breath and he clung to the rock like his life depended on it. After climbing back on his perch and wiping the excess water from his head and face, he then glared at the Inquisitor as she followed suit, sitting innocently in front of him, drenched from head to toe in water with the irksomely beautiful grin on her face. He found the corners of his mouth twitch then curl into a smirk of his own as he gave her a playful shove, laughing when she flailed her arms and fell backwards into the water again. The spirits bounced and twirled, whispers of the laughter echoing around the pair.

“Was that really necessary, Vhenan?” Solas questioned as he assisted the woman out of the water for a second time.

She grinned mischievously while drying herself off. “Perhaps not, but I got you to smile.”

He laughed once more, his arms around his abdomen as he did so. She always seemed to know how to get him to laugh and smile. Solas shook his head as he reached out for her hand, then wrapped his fingers around hers when she obliged his silent request. As she gripped his hand, the dream around them shimmered and gleamed. Light from the blue moon shining through and enveloped the area in a serene and hypnotic glow. As though it was casting its own spell upon the two elves. Solas glanced down at Amanatha as she turned her gaze up towards his. Tiny wisps of blue light floated between them as he lifted his hand, two fingers caressing her soft skin fondly. His forehead brushed against the Inquisitor’s and he covered her lips with his own.

He moved to touch his lips along her jaw and to her cheek, the sweet scent of peppermint wafting from her skin was tickling his nose. She shivered, caressing her hands up his chest as she nuzzled his jawline in turn. She felt him purr heatedly as her warm breath tickled his ear. He hissed when she lightly nipped his pointed ear affectionately and he glanced down at her with a lustful look. She smiled innocently, a noise of amusement when his lips grazed the shell of her own pointed ears. Two could play at such a game. He lightly bit her ear, earning a small squeak of a laugh. One of her hands slid beneath his tunic, the touch eliciting a sharp breath at the brief chill of it. Solas slid his other hand around her waist, dropping low to press her tighter against him, craving the friction and heat. The hand that had caressed her cheek snaked to the back of her head, long fingers weaving and tangling within her ebony tresses as his lips once more captured hers, his tongue invading her mouth to do battle with hers.

Without breaking the heated kiss, Solas slipped the hand he had on the small of her back inside the woman’s breeches, tracing the smooth skin of her hips. Amanatha moaned against his lips as he trailed his fingernails up the inside of her inner thigh. The Elvhen woman shivered body-wide and the mage felt the dimpling of gooseflesh pebble along her skin. When he caressed upwards along her hipbone, Solas smirked at the way the Inquisitor’s hips rolled to meet his touch, almost begging him for more. He traced higher, teasing her with a delicate touch over her ribs until his palm came to rest upon the band of cloth holding her breasts in place. Her breath hitched and the mage could feel her heartbeat quickening. Solas swore he heard that tiny voice in the back of his mind ordering for him to stop, however, for the first time since their first kiss, the Elvhen apostate ignored it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside of the Fade, in the embrace of the waking world, the two elves dreamed, blissfully unaware of the silvery beams of moonlight slipping through the flaps of the tent. The tendrils of light bent and spiral around both Amanatha and Solas’ bodies like slithering serpents taking care not rouse the pair from their slumber. The threads of light soon formed a single looking ribbon where each end encircled the elves’ wrists in a seamless, unending circle. The binding threads frayed then coiled around the sleeping forms, each thread morphing into a small, frail looking chain. The ends of each chain clasped together with their partners in small little clinks, almost like a gentle snowfall.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanatha felt her breath quickening as she stared into the hungry gaze of the man before her. Her body involuntarily shuddered when his thumb padded against her clothed breast but her eyes remained fixated on his icy blue stare. The hand clenching her hair tightened slightly and she felt Solas guiding her head upwards to expose her throat to him. Her left hand clenched around the front of his tunic as he lowered his head. His nose trailed along the length of her smooth skin which soon pebbled when he started leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. When he lightly grazed his teeth along her throat, she felt her knees give out. Solas was faster. The hand that had been preoccupied with her breast quickly descended to the small of her back and he carefully lowered her down on to the soft grass beneath them.

He gazed down at her image, her hair splayed behind her head like an ebony halo of divinity. Her blue-green eyes shimmering like polished malachite in the moonlight giving her an even more ethereal visage. Amanatha looked like a goddess of old as she stared up at Solas with half-lidded eyes, her body caged under his. Solas was losing his mind. He had to stop. He needed to stop this before he hurt her further. He swallowed thickly. He needed to wake up.

“Solas...” She whispered, placing her left hand on his cheek. “Ar lath ma. Sul bel’annar’is.”

Her words were like spell all their own. They seemed to erase everything. All his doubt. All his guilt and regret simply evaporated. Solas felt a growl escape his throat and a breath left his nose as his eyes mirrored Amanatha’s. They also appeared to be glowing with a faint light. “The things you do to me, vhenan.” He muttered, taking hold of her face and he leaned in to kiss her soft, inviting lips.

Amanatha felt his tongue invade her mouth, tasting every inch of her. She moaned into his mouth, granting the mage access to her tongue. She made a meek whine when he broke the kiss to nibble her bottom lip. The Inquisitor soon felt the apostate’s teeth on her neck and she let out a cry when he bit down on her flesh, sucking on her skin. “Ah!” The cry fell from her lips and her body soon felt very warm to the touch. Soon, their clothes felt like prisons, restricting them. She fumbled with the buttons on her blouse only to giggle when Solas lightly slapped her hands. His fingers expertly undid the soft prison concealing her beauty. Layer by layer, their clothes were discarded, only the pale moonlight bathing them in its cold warmth. Laid bare before one another, the two became enthralled with the other’s forms. Solas reached out first, caressing her cheek and fiddled with a lock of her hair with a fond smile.

“Ma ane ir’ina’lan’ehn, vhenan.” Whispered the mage as he kissed her cheek fondly, taking his time to map out her lithe, supple body.

The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated the two of them further allowing them to further drink in the others form. It was the first time Amanatha had actually seen Solas fully disrobed. His broad chest rose and fell heavily over her and she was stunned to find that the mage was sporting quite a few scars of his own. She reached up to trace one on his abdomen when his pendant planted itself upon the valley of her chest when he rose up slightly. He tilted his head curiously when she carefully turned the pendant around then draped it over his shoulder though she gently thumbed one of the fangs thoughtfully. She blushed a beautiful shade of pink when his pelvis glided against her folds and a small little whimper left her throat. Amanatha twitched at the faintest touch but returned her focus back to the pair of eyes boring into her and she swallowed slightly. Both his arms were on either side of her head and his gaze was so intense she almost felt like she was prey. “Ane ma geal’un or em, ma vhenan?” Even his voice, now deep and rich, sent shivers down her spine.

“Ar ame tel’din.” She whispered shakily and she saw him raise a brow mischievously followed by that damnable smirk he wore when he often teased her.

“Ma ane.”

She shook her head with a grin of her own. “In a ón vir.”

He chuckled, practically clawing at her skin, starting at her ribcage stopping to rest on her hips. When she tried wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer, the damn mage smirked and moved slightly out of reach and instead started teasing her entrance with his fingers. She growled out a frustrated moan. Damn man was torturing her on purpose now. And worse yet, he was enjoying it. Mischief and lust swam in his eyes, now dark with passion and he continued to slowly twirl his fingers expertly along her clit. She bit her lower lip, her body shuddering to respond to the pleasure wracking through her. Amanatha felt her eyes close tightly only to open when Solas started chuckling again. “Do you recall our conversation in Haven?” He asked and she felt the corner of her mouth twitch upwards.

She did indeed remember. “The one where you found me graceful?” She thought coyly before adding with a sultry tone. “Or the one about my indomitable focus?”

“And how I would find it fascinating to see such a beautiful and powerful young woman dominated?” He added in an equally sultry tone as he lowered his head next to hers, still teasing her entrance as his breath tickled her ear. “Although, I have already seen you dominated in battle...”

Amanatha’s breath stuttered and she tensed when his thumb glided along her bud of pleasure, struggling to suppress another moan. The apostate’s smile grew. She bit back a few curse words but one slipped from her lips when he removed his fingers from her and replaced them the tip of his member. “Telamdys ma!”

“So defiant.”

She flashed him a lusty smirk. “I won’t make this easy for you.”

“Ma nuvinen.” He accepted with a smirk as he entered her and watched her stifle a groan in the process and in turn caused his ego to grow. “I do so enjoy a challenge.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The spectral chains suddenly snapped, growing taut, each chain pulling at each other tightly. The moon’s light seemed to be strengthening each link with each breath the sleeping elves took. Solas had his arm wrapped around Amanatha and their fingers were interlocked as well. Silvery threads began to wrap around their wrists, forming words of sort upon their skin, almost like tattoos. Still, the two remained asleep, their minds still wandering the Fade.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moving within was utterly fantastic. Every slight movement, every twitch of her muscles as she forced herself not to make a sound, not even a little scream, drove him wild. He could see it in her eyes that she was enjoying this but was stubborn. Like she refused to be dominated so easily. It stirred up something primal within him. He growled at her. Amanatha returned the growl along with a shaking smirk of her own. Oh, she was a temptress in her own right. Solas both hated and adored her defiance. He stole a kiss from her lips as his rhythm increased, catching her by surprise and it earned him a melodic gasp followed by a sweet little moan of bliss. He could feel her losing her battle. She wanted to give in. Solas decided to give her a little incentive. He pulled from their kiss and began gently nipping and sucking on her neck leaving little bites and bruises. Amanatha whined, her will visibly cracking under the pleasure. Just another little push.

“Sul’enma em, da’natha, ma vhenan.” He whispered into her ear, trailing his tongue along the shell of it. “Ar ema ma.”

That seemed to shatter her, for Amanatha arched her back in response, a fragile moan echoing into the world around them. It was a voice so sweet to him as she called out him, his name sounding like a prayer, a wish on her lips. Her fingers traced his skin, so tenderly it was like being touched by silk. She cradled his face with both her hands, her lips crashing back onto his all while meeting his thrusts and more. Growls and groans of pleasure left their throats, gripping and clinging to one another as they rapidly approached the precipice of their passion. Faster, harder they climbed until the coils of passion snapped, sending the two over the edge, howls of delight and love singing through the echoes of the Fade in a beautiful symphony. As they drew down from their passions, the two stared at each other for what felt like eternity before the two closed their eyes, snuggled close to each other and the Fade shimmered then distorted around them with only the moon’s light fading last. The two weren't even aware that the memory of their joining would Fade away with the setting moon almost like a midsummer's night dream.

Chapter Text

Upon the next morning, Amanatha and Solas awoke feeling refreshed and well rested, though they were confused when they tried to recall the events of what transpired in the Fade. They could remember the spirits doing a ballet and the Inquisitor’s ploy of pulling the apostate into the water but the rest felt like a blur. They decided not to dwell on it. They needed to get a move on and meet up with the rest of their companions in the Western Approach. Luckily the ride only lasted for three hours and the Inquisitor was already guiding Thestral towards a camp bearing the crest of the Inquisition located near a large pond of water. Harding was the first to greet them, along with Dalkan as the rest of the companions emerged from their tents. Even Cullen was waiting for them. Hawke and Fenris were also waiting for them. After a short greeting, Amanatha and her companions gathered under a large tent where Cullen unrolled a map of the area. According to Dalkan, Stroud and Fenris had spotted Grey Wardens converging in the southwest, however they were unsure about what they were doing and that Stroud was currently hiding near the location awaiting their arrival. There were also sightings of a high dragon on the warpath. Cullen suggested that it was probably competing with the rest of the wildlife for food. Hawke then handed Amanatha what looked to be a Venatori missive. According to the missive, Red Templars had been skulking a mine alongside some bandits known only as the White Claws. Other than that, they were in a very hostile environment.  

“Fenris?” The white tattooed elf turned towards the Inquisitor as she spoke. “Think you and Hawke can show us where you and Dalkan found the Wardens?”  

The lyrium warrior, Hawke and Dalkan nodded their heads before heading to the edge of camp to gather their supplies for the trek. Amanatha then glanced at the others. She pointed at Dorian, Blackwall, Sera and Solas then gestured to the horses near the pond. The group nodded their heads and proceeded to gather last minute supplies. Amanatha looked up at the sky, her hand shielding her eyes as she got a triangulation of the camp’s location then returned to her allies where she mounted up on Thestral with Solas sitting behind her. Hawke and Fenris were already taking point on their mounts. Dalkan was trudging along the sand, grunting with difficulty when Thestral trotted up behind the dwarf and plucked him up by the collar of his armor, carrying the Hero of Fereldan like he was some sort of kitten. The dwarf snarked and wriggled to get free from the humiliating situation but soon resigning himself to the sorry state.  

The heat was intense upon the group, more so on the mounts though. The horses would snort or grunt in discomfort but Thestral seemed to be doing just fine, happily trotting along the sand like it was nothing. Amanatha would often cast a cooling spell around her entourage to keep them and their mounts from passing out due to heat stroke. They were enjoying the silence when Sera glanced at Dorian with a smirk on her face. “You don’t laugh like a Tevinter.”  

Dorian quirked a brow at the city elf. “How is a Tevinter supposed to laugh exactly?”  

“Cruel and stupid.” She stated then threw her head back laughing manically like a madwoman. “Like that, yeah?”  

The Tevinter mage snorted with a laugh. “Oh no. You’re not allowed to laugh like that until you get your magister license.”  

“ KNEW it!” The city elf huffed out loud in a sing-song voice. “Varric owes me a sovereign!”  

Blackwall let out a cough along with a sputter. The sound caused Amanatha to turn her head and crane it around Solas to spare a worried glance at the Warden. The human waved his hand dismissively stating that he had accidently inhale sand when a gust of wind stirred up one of the dunes they were riding by. He then made a sarcastic quip about naming the dust storm Gerald of all things. Another hour ticked by and Amanatha noticed her companions and their mounts were struggling to press on. She found a shady area for them to rest by and brought everyone to a halt. She could hear everyone quickly descending from their saddles to stretch their legs. While they did that, she was busy scolding Thestral for refusing to put Dalkan down. She had only managed to coax the dracolisk to release his quarry with the aid of Dorian when she overheard Blackwall calling out to Solas. She felt her body suddenly tense and she blinked in confusion. She hardly ever tensed up when someone called her name. Save for her mother.  

“So, Sera and I were talking about you while you and the Ladyship were away.” The human Warden started off causally, propping his back against the rocks behind him. “We need you to settle a question for us.”  

Amanatha felt a brief twinge of annoyance yet it did not feel like her own emotions. Odd. She saw Solas heave a sigh, his eyes flicking towards Sera who was grinning brightly next to Blackwall. “Sera’s involved?” Solas asked, earning a nod from the bearded man. “So, this question will be offensive, I assume?”  

“Yes, probably or it might warrant a fireball to my arse.”  

The Elvhen apostate furrowed his brow further. “But you’re going to grit your teeth and work through it?”  

The man shrugged then spoke when the elf motioned for him to proceed. “You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So... uh, are there any that are more than just friends?” Solas raised a brow suspiciously at the question before Blackwall added with a wink. “If you know what I mean.”  

Amanatha had, unfortunately, decided to take a drink of water just as the warrior made his inquiry and started choking in shock. Dorian patted the ailing woman’s back as Sera cackled at the horrified and irritated expression on Solas’ face as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh for- really?!” He snapped at the two. Sera fell backwards, landing on her back in the sand, laughing and gasping for breath all while clutching her stomach. Clearly, the city elf was enjoying the mage’s reactions immensely.  

“Look, it’s a natural thing to be curious about.” Blackwall goaded with seemingly innocent expression.  

The mage did not look amused. “For a twelve-year-old!”  

“Blackwall,” Amanatha chimed in trying to deescalate the situation though her voice was slightly raspy from her choking fit. “Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple, especially in that regard.”  

“Yes, well put, Inquisitor.” Solas nodded firmly.  

“Aha! So, you do have experience in these matters!” The human man pointed out with another satisfied smirk. Solas merely glared at the man and the glare deepened when the Warden had the audacity to wrap an arm around the mage’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Solas. It’ll be our little secret.”  

“Ass.” Grumbled the apostate.  

Blackwall threw his head back in laughter. “Now who's being the twelve-year-old?”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They were nearing their destination when they spotted Stroud waiting for them just a several yards away from a strange looking ritual tower with a pair of silver gryphon statues on either side of the bridge. They could faintly hear the sounds of chanting though the Dalish woman had no idea what spell was being cast. Amanatha guided her companions behind a large boulder, keeping to the shadows before clicking her tongue at Thestral who had continued to carry Dalkan like a kitten. The dwarf grumbled huffily before grunting when the animal unceremoniously dropped him. The Hero of Fereldan dusted himself off and glared at the animal then shook his head as his fellow Warden jogged over to them. “I am glad you all are here. I fear that they have already started the ritual.” He informed them as they gathered around him.  

“Alright. Stroud, you, me and the Inquisitor will take point.” Dalkan informed the others. “Fenris and Anara will guard our flanks.”  

Amanatha nodded as did her companions and the group slowly trailed after the dwarf. While slowly making their way across the bridge, the Inquisitor couldn’t help notice the massive black gorge spanning across the area with the ritual site seemingly dangling over the abyss. “The Approach seems to still be recovering from an old Blight...”  

“Blights scar all they touch, I’m afraid.” Solas said solemnly then noticed some wildlife seemingly hunting down below. “Though seeing wildlife thriving is deeply unexpected.”  

Dalkan chuckled softly and turned his head to glance at the apostate. “Life is a wondrous thing, my friend. It always finds a way to thrive.”  

The moment of awe was soon shattered when the company heard shouting at the end of the bridge. Amanatha sprinted on ahead much Solas’ dismay. Dorian, Blackwall, Stroud and Dalkan tailed after her with Sera, Fenris, Hawke and Solas bringing up the rear. Amanatha arrived to find a small pile of dead Wardens along with four live Wardens paired with Shades and Wrath demons. The smell of blood left her feeling nauseous but she gritted her teeth and followed the trail of blood upwards where she found a man with black hair and goatee to match in white and bronze robes seemingly wrapping his ritual when he spotted the Dalish woman. His eyes were a cold stormy gray as they fell upon her and she quickly drew her bow, aiming it at the adversary.  

“Lady Inquisitor! You arrived earlier than expected.” He began with mock respect before giving her an overexaggerated bow. “Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service.”  

“Sod it with false pleasantries, you piece of Venatori shit!” Dalkan snarled brushing past the elf woman, his battleaxe drawn and Stroud standing beside him. “Release my fellow Wardens now! Before I run you through!”  

“Ah! The Hero of Fereldan! And Stroud! The one Clarel let slip.” Erimond shook his head in disappointment. “So instead of stopping me yourself, you sought out this Elvhen bitch to try and stop me. How convenient.”  

“We know you’re using blood magic but I wonder for what purpose.” Amanatha growled as she sensed her companions drawing their weapons as well. “Allow me to garner a guess?”  

Erimond smirked. “By all means, Elf. Tell me what you think I’m doing.”  

“From the amount of blood on the ground and the alarming amount of bodies and demons, you tricked the Wardens into using it under a false Calling.” She then nodded towards the vacant eyes on the Grey Wardens staring up at him. “You are using blood magic to bind the Wardens to Corypheus so he can control them like puppets on strings. But that’s not all, is there? Amassing a demon army too, I’d wager?”  

Erimond blinked in astonishment but maintained a dark smile. “Well... your skills of deduction are rather alarming and even more surprising, accurate. But you are correct. My master and I are planning on storming the Deep Roads with our demon army and eliminating the Old Gods while they sleep to prevent future Blights. No more Blights. Ever. And the Wardens would save the world.”  

“That’s madness!” Solas shook his head disapprovingly. “For all we know, killing the Old Gods could make things worse!”  

Amanatha held up a hand in silent order for the apostate to calm down before turning her head back to Erimond. “While many of us would love to have a world with no Blight, you aren’t going to do that. You and your master aren’t going to the Deep Roads. At least, not immediately. You plan on striking Orlais and assassinating the Empress once you have amassed the amount of soldiers you need. But I wonder, what’s in it for you?”  

“The Elder One commands the Blight. He is not commanded by it, like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is neither unstoppable or uncontrollable. It is simply a tool.” Erimond folded his arms across his chest pridefully. “As for me: while the Elder One rules over the Golden City, we, the Venatori, shall be his God-Kings ruling over this world.”  

Sera snorted under her breath. “He’s the tool.”  

Amanatha was inclined to agree as she raised her bow once more. “Release the Wardens from their bindings and maybe I’ll let you live. I won’t ask twice.”  

“No, you won’t.” Erimond scoffed. “The Elder One taught me how to deal with you in the event of your inevitable interference. When I bring him your pretty little head, his gratitude will-” He ducked when Dorian and Solas flung two orbs of fire at him. He snarled flicking his wrist as though attempting to throw something back in retaliation. At the same time, the Inquisitor had shot her arrow. She let out a hiss when something sliced across her cheek along with the Venatori screaming in pain. Her arrow had pierced through his hand with a satisfying squelch. A string of pained curses barreled off his tongue as he ripped the offending weapon out of his flesh glaring coldly at the Inquisitor and her company. When he spotted Dalkan rushing towards him, he shouted at the bewitched Wardens, sprinting towards the tower door. The Hero of Fereldan yelled in frustration as his path was blocked by a demon of wrath so he buried his axe into the creature’s skull as chaos ensued.  

As the last Warden fell, Anara and Fenris shook their heads in disgust. The Wardens were too far gone to listen to reason. Amanatha looked at Dalkan as he knelt before his fallen brethren, curses leaving his lips as he shook his head. She then glanced at the bodies and growled lowly. Human sacrifices, demon summoning... who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea ? She was barely aware of Fenris and Anara arguing with Stroud about the Grey Wardens’ actions until Dalkan snapped at them, ordering the three of them to kindly shut up. He glanced at the direction Erimond had fled and frowned.  

“What is it Dalkan?” Amanatha inquired noticing the frown.  

The dwarf turned his gaze up at the Inquisitor. “The direction that bastard fled. The only structure out in that direction is Fort Adamant. But it’s been abandoned for years. Long before my Joining.”  

“Luckily for us,” Fenris grinned as he pointed at a desk with what appeared to be maps and a layout. “Erimond left these. Perhaps you can have your experts do some cross-referencing and pinpoint the fortress’s location, Lady Inquisitor.”  

Amanatha nodded her head. “I’ll send a raven to Leliana to start her search. In the meantime, I want to explore the Approach and get some footholds established here. The more forces we have amassed here, the better prepared we’ll be for Adamant.”  

Chapter Text

Solas had to admit, Amanatha certainly had a way around things in the Approach. They managed to secure an old keep occupied by corrupted Wardens known as Gryphon’s Keep and rooted out some stray darkspawn before they scampered through fields of poisonous gas preventing further pursuit. The Inquisitor had a sneaking suspicion that the damn creatures were hiding somewhere out in the fields but until the Inquisition could find a way to safely traverse the area, they were out of luck. However, with the outposts they had set up for the time being in the Western Approach, Amanatha and her companions returned to Skyhold. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor had to deal with passing on judgement to some of the Inquisition's prisoners. One included an Avvar chieftain from the Fallowmire who was actually happy to be banished to Tevinter to do some chaos. Then next was the former mayor of Crestwood who was also exiled. The third one was the most amusing one. Amanatha and her companions had captured a Venatori smuggler who was surprisingly not loyal to Corypheus but had instead been stealing and smuggling out the Elder One’s own relics to make a profit. Amanatha decided to put those skills to use by having him smuggle artifacts to the Inquisition for further study. Currently, the Inquisitor had just finished talking with Cassandra and several mentors for Amanatha to increase her skills further. She was now sitting in the rotunda, silently going over books on Knight-Enchanters while fiddling with building small elemental grenade traps all while Solas was painting another section of plaster.  

“Hey, Solas?”  

The apostate twitched his left ear and turned his head slightly to indicate that he was listening to her while still focusing on his painting.  

“I was wonder-”  

She didn’t have a chance to ask her question for Cullen had barreled into the room with a stack of papers in his hand. “Inquisitor. Hawke and Fenris have returned from their scouting of Adamant. I have their report and we are awaiting your council.”  

Solas felt a wave of disappointment wash through him followed by a quick spark of anxiety. He fully turned around to find the Inquisitor with a brief nervous expression on her face. It was quickly replaced with what he called her Inquisitor's mask and she ordered Cullen to summon the rest of her companions. She turned towards the mage and jerked her head towards the war room as well. “That includes you too, Fade Expert. I have a feeling your expertise will be needed too.”  

Solas set his paints down, then collected a rag to clean the lingering paint from his hands before following her to the war room. It was strange seeing everyone in the room. Amanatha stood between Cullen and Solas while everyone circled around the war table. She glanced at Hawke and Fenris after finishing up reading the report then turned towards to Leliana, gesturing that she had the floor. The spymaster and Dalkan nodded at each other and the woman spoke carefully. According to Dalkan, the fortress was constructed with the help of dwarves. The building was described to be not very large but quite sturdy, with tall walls made of dark jet-stone, massive gate with archer towers on both sides, and metal ramparts. Adamant Fortress has withstood the darkspawn since the time of the Second Blight and had long since been a symbol of the Grey Wardens’ miraculous achievement.  

“Fortunately for us, the fortress was before the age of modern siege equipment. A good trebuchet will do massive damage to those ancient walls. Thanks to our Lady Ambassador.” Cullen stated with a brief glance to Josephine along with a proud smile.  

“Luckily for us, Bull and I managed to find choke points while going over the records of Adamant’s construction with Dalkan.” Leliana pointed out as she planted a finger on the sections of the blueprint. “Here. Here and several in this area.”  

Cullen folded his arms over his chest, the armor clicking as his gauntlets scraped against the metal. “The only issues we have is this: how are we going to breach the main gate? We do not have any battering rams at disposal currently.”  

“What about the Boss?”  

Everyone stared at the Qunari in confusion at his proposal then turned their heads towards the Dalish woman. It took Amanatha a moment to finally catch on to Bull’s suggestion and soon everyone else understood it as well. Since Amanatha could transform into a dragon herself, she could use her own mass as a means to break through the door. The Inquisitor didn’t appear to dismiss the thought but Solas swore he felt feelings of apprehension and concern welling up within him. Then he frowned for these emotions weren’t his. Strange. Amanatha rubbed her hand under her chin in thought before folding her arms as well. “The problem with that plan is that I might be mistaken for an archdemon and the Wardens might try to kill me before I can reach the gates.”  

“My dear if that’s the only issue you have, perhaps have someone ride on your back to provide cover while you fly?” Vivienne suddenly chimed in.  

“I’ve never carried anyone on my back in that form before, but I am not against the idea.” Amanatha stated thoughtfully. “Provided the one who rides on me isn’t afraid of heights. Then once we breach the gate, my team and I will proceed with hunting Clarel.”  

Upon hearing the word heights, many of her companions took a step back from the table. All except Solas and Blackwall. The elf and human glared at each other for a good long while, clearly sizing each up. Blackwall tried to reason that he should be the one to accompany Amanatha believing that she needed a warrior’s blade and shield more than a mage’s spells. Solas, on the other hand, made several counterpoints. The first was obviously logical. Since the Inquisitor had never had a rider before, having a warrior in full heavy armor could hinder her whereas a mage in light armored robes would provide more mobility. The second point he made was in regards to skills. The apostate agreed that while Blackwall and even Cassandra could block most physical attacks, they could not, however outmatch a mage on the ground. Especially a Grey Warden. He then finalized that even with Dorian and Vivienne’s skills as a mage, neither of them had the experience he had from his wanderings in the Fade to execute such a feat on the back of a dragon.  

While watching Solas and Blackwall argue, which Inquisitor Lavellan found both rather amusing and surprising, Amanatha turned her attention to her commander with a serious expression. When she inquired how soon Cullen would have the soldiers mobilized, the commander smirked, informing her that he could have them armed and ready in a few hours. With their plan set, Amanatha dismissed everyone and made her way to the armory to collect her armor that was being repaired. She was soon joined by Cassandra who assisted her with donning her armor. She was just about done strapping her gauntlets when Cullen arrived. She nodded her head knowingly as she followed her commander outside. Amanatha smiled a little when she saw her companions waiting for her.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

It was nightfall by the time the Inquisitor and the Inquisition arrived at Adamant. Already the soldiers and some of Iron Bull’s Chargers were making advance after advance towards the fortress. Trebuchets were firing flaming boulders and large pots of flaming oil upon the occupants within. Dalkan and Stroud were currently with Fenris and Hawke sneaking through the blind-spots of the building while Amanatha had Cullen and her companions advance towards the gate. The Inquisitor had already taken on her dragon form and was nervously staring down from her perch on a hillside. She glanced down at Solas as he stood by her and nodded his head in a silent confirmation that it was time. She lowered her head down and waited for the apostate to climb on. Once she was certain that he was safely onboard, Amanatha unfurled her wings and leapt off the stone ledge, a strong wind catching her as she glided upwards into the sky.  

Below them, Inquisition soldiers perched on siege ladders latched onto the walls, engaging with the Wardens on the battlements. She quickly evaded a cloud of arrows hurtling straight towards her and Solas though the mage had to deflect the small few that came in too close for comfort. Solas tapped her lightly on the head with his staff, instructing the dragoness to climb higher into the sky. They needed to have enough speed in order for her mass to fully break down the gates and allow the rest of the soldiers into the fortress. Amanatha flapped her wings several times until she felt she was high enough and she spun around, leaned forward and began her dive with her wings tucked close to her body, ignoring the fact that Solas had pressed himself as flat as he could against her neck.  

Upon seeing the dragon rapidly approaching, Blackwall whistled at Cullen who ordered the soldiers near the gates to scatter. Amanatha unleashed an orb of lightning before she slammed her head into the doors with a loud crashing sound and skid to halt in the courtyard. She almost stumbled, feeling dizzy along with a headache forming from the impact but she quickly regained her composure by sweeping her tail around her and clearing a pathway for her companions to join her. She shook her head with a slight growl before lowering it to the ground allowing Solas to quickly descend. She had just reverted back to normal when Cullen jogged in and informed her that Dalkan and Stroud would meet her further inside while Fenris and Hawke aided the Inquisition warriors on the battlement. He then informed her that the remaining troops would keep the demon army busy for as long they could before he wished her luck and departed to aid his men.  

“Next time Bull suggests using me as a battering ram, remind me to decline.” Amanatha groaned as she readied her bow.  

“I’ll be sure to remind you, my dear.” The Tevinter teased as he readied his weapon.  

Varric, Cole, Dorian, Solas and Blackwall quickly joined the Dalish woman as they proceeded through the fortress. It was utter chaos really. Demons flooded the area, snarling, clawing and eviscerating both ally and foe alike. Amanatha and her team had just finished helping some sympathetic Wardens when they heard Hawke and Fenris shouting for aid on the battlements. They spotted three sections of the battlements under siege by demons. Amanatha barked at Varric and Blackwall to aid Fenris on the eastern battlement then had Cole and Dorian aid Dalkan and Stroud on the western section while she, Solas and Hawke dealt with a Pride demon on the north end.  

“What is with me getting the Pride Demons?!” Hawke grumbled as Amanatha finished off the beast with a well-placed arrow between its eyes.  

Amanatha huffed out a breathless laugh. “Which would you prefer? An ogre or a pride demon?”  

“Neither if I had the choice! Though I’ll say this, a pride demon smells better than an ogre.”  

Soon, the battlements were cleared and the Inquisitor’s companions returned to her side along with the Champions of Kirkwall and the Hero of Fereldan. They gave each other a brief once over and after confirming that their injuries weren’t life-threatening, they made their way towards the inner sanctum of the fortress. Much to their dismay, they found themselves before another set of large doors. Dalkan cursed vividly as he, Blackwall and Stroud tried to break it down. Not even Solas or Dorian could break it with their spells.  

“We need to get in there!” Shouted the dwarf as he swung his battle-axe against the door.  

Stroud and Blackwall rammed their shields into it with the two mages casting fire spells to no avail. “And how in the Maker’s Name can we do that without a means to get inside?!”  

They were running out of time and Amanatha could already smell blood along with a massive rift forming on the other side. There was no choice. She ordered her companions to back away, her body already shifting back into her dragon form. Amanatha backed up as far as she could then threw her weight forward, the wood doors breaking slightly from the mass pushing through. She snorted as she repeated the process with a loud roar.  

~~~~~~~~~~  

“Wardens,” Clarel began as she paced before an altar, her fellow Grey Wardens looking up at her, “we are betrayed by the very world we have sworn to protect.”  

Erimond slowly approached her, his eyes glancing at the door in the back as it bent and moaned in protest. “The Inquisition is inside, Clarel. We have no time to stand on ceremony!”  

The Grey Warden leader glared at the Tevinter magister coldly. She quickly reminded him that her brothers and sisters in arms were giving up their lives as part of their sacred duty. They had right to be given respect. She was just about to slit the throat of one of her oldest companions when the doors to the inner sanctum shattered and a sapphire dragon emerged, letting loose a screech so loud that it had her and many of the observants covering their ears in response. Erimond was about to shout a command at the Wardens when Amanatha roared once more silencing him as she and her companions rushed through. She stood before the group of Wardens as the stared up at her in awe. Dalkan and Stroud jogged to stand before their brothers and sisters while the Inquisitor’s companions, Hawke and Fenris hung back beside the dragon.  

“Clarel!” Dalkan shouted up at the Clarel, “don’t do this! If you continue this, if you complete the ritual then you’re doing exactly what that piece of Tevinter shit wants!”  

Erimond quickly stepped forth. “Fighting the Blight? Keeping the world safe from darkspawn? Who wouldn’t want that?!” Amanatha bared her fangs as the Tevinter magister continued. “Yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Feel free to hate me but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty!”  

Clarel narrowed her eyes at the Hero of Fereldan. “We make sacrifices no one else will, Dalkan. Our warriors die proudly for a world that will never thank them.”  

“And Tevinter-ass there takes our brothers and sisters’ minds for his master, Corypheus!” Spat the dwarven hero. “Being a Grey Warden is not glorious. It’s not poetic. It’s not even heroic. We do not seek fame or wealth. We do what is right. And we continue to do that again and again. Until our dying breath. But it seems you have forgotten that.”  

A rift opened before them, the tear growing bigger and bigger until Amanatha finally caught a glimpse of what laid beyond it. She saw a flash of a multitude of eyes staring back at her and a low growl left her throat in response. “Listen to me!” She shouted fiercely. “I have no quarrel with the Wardens! Hell, I even spared those I could!” Her wings unfolded protectively over her companions. “I don’t want to kill you, but you are being used. Some of you already sense it too, I bet.”  

Erimond could already see the doubt in the unswayed Wardens eyes. He even watched as they glanced at each other questioningly and turned away from Clarel to stand beside Dalkan and Stroud. Even Clarel was having second thoughts. He sneered in disgust. Corypheus was correct about Amanatha interfering once more with his plans but unlike at the ritual tower, he had an ace up his sleeve. He slammed his staff into the ground and a guttural screech filled the air. “Corypheus sent me this to give to you.”  

Amanatha snarled as Corypheus’ archdemon came into view above the fortress. Lightning and fire danced around her maw as the monster dove down, corrupted flames spewing from its mouth but the Inquisitor was ready this time. She unleashed her power just as the flames came into view, her flames purifying the archdemon’s at the same time. It landed on a tower and glared at the sapphire beast. Amanatha roared, springing upwards and with a great flap of her wings, knocked the archdemon off. She whipped her head at her companions. “Get Clarel and Erimond!” She ordered as she leapt into the air to chase after the archdemon. Dalkan and Stroud soon took command of the untainted Wardens and they sprang into action dealing with the remaining Wardens. Solas motioned for Cole, Varric, Dorian and Blackwall to follow him as they pursued after the Tevinter magister and Clarel.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

As Solas and the others raced after Clarel who was pursuing Erimond, Amanatha was dealing with the archdemon, trying to keep away from the fortress. However, Amanatha hardly ever fought another dragon in this form before and she wasn’t nearly as powerful but she wasn’t about to let it get its prey easily. She saw the archdemon latch itself to a wall where Solas and the others were trying to get to Clarel and when she saw it rear its head back to release its corrupted flames, Amanatha shot down from the sky and slammed her body into the archdemon, forcing it to retreat once more. Solas let out a sigh of relief when he saw the Inquisitor chase the foul beast off but quickly reminded himself of his task and broke into a run with others behind him. They were rounding a corner just in time to witness Clarel facing off against Erimond on what was left of an ancient bridge.  

“You destroyed the Grey Wardens!” Shouted the woman as she slammed a lightning bolt into the Tevinter magister causing him to nearly slide off the bridge.  

Erimond hissed out a weak laugh as he staggered back to his feet, a hand over his chest. “You did that to yourself, you pathetic bitch.” He looked at the woman with a cold gleam in his eyes. “All I did was dangling a tiny string of power in front of your eyes and you just couldn’t wait to get your hands bloody. A pity. You could have served a new god.”  

“I will never serve the Blight!” Clarel snarled as she cast another dose of lightning into the man, watching him let out a strangle grunt as his head smacked hard against a large stone slab and he fell unconscious just as Solas, Dalkan and the others arrived. Clarel was about to plunge the spear tip of her staff into Erimond when the archdemon suddenly landed behind her and clamped its jaws around the Grey Warden’s torso, jumping up onto the archway like a cat, thrashing its head back and forth, tearing Clarel up badly before spitting her back on to the bridge. Solas and the others had their backs to the edge of the bridge as the demonic dragon snaked its way towards them, growling and snarling with each step. It was standing over the injured woman as she bled out underneath it, oblivious to her muttering weakly to herself. The dragon jumped, keen on pouncing the Elvhen apostate and the others when Clarel’s body suddenly exploded in a violent display of sparks, knocking the archdemon off balance and over the edge of the bridge but not before its tail slammed into the stonework causing it to crumble.  

Amanatha witnessed the bridge collapsing, along with her companions plummeting towards the ground. She pinned her wings to her body and dove after them. Her eyes began glowing a bright green as a rift opened beneath Solas and the others. She reached out and caught them all within her arms, her wings enveloping around them like a protective cloak as they all disappeared into the Fade, the last thing they saw of the waking world being the night sky before that, too, disappeared and the rift she opened quickly sealed itself shut.  

Chapter Text

Amanatha let out a pained grunt as she landed on her back. Her voice was soon joined in by the chorus of her companions as they rolled out from the shelter of her wings. She groaned, rolling over onto her side as Blackwall helped Stroud and Dalkan to their feet. Fenris pulled Hawke up while Solas took a moment to gather his bearings. Cole was pacing frantically as Amanatha got to her feet, hissing from the impact. Swirls of magic danced around her as she reverted back to her normal elvhen self and she winced as her vision cleared. The scene around them was eerie, bathed in a sickly green hue. The sound of water could be heard in the distance followed by the faint crackling of fire and lightning further ahead. They were surrounded by stalagmites that shimmered with a dark green hue. Almost like veridium crystals.  

“Where- we were falling.” Fenris recalled and he began studying his surrounds, keeping Anara close to him. “Are... are we dead?” 

Solas shook his head, his voice soft and in awe. “No, this is the Fade. The Inquisitor opened a rift, we came through and... we survived.” 

“Don’t know why you sound so shocked.” Amanatha grumbled then tilted her head at a strange floating structure in the distance. “Is that-?” 

“The Black City, yes.” The apostate nodded. 

Amanatha noticed Cole’s pacing started getting a bit erratic. He almost sounded like the poor spirit was hyperventilating. “This place is wrong. I made myself forget when I made myself real, but I know it wasn’t like this!” The young spirit whimpered and continued to pace, his hands on his head, digging his fingers into his scalp. “No, no, no, no, no! This is the Fade, but I’m stuck! I can’t... why can’t I...? This place is wrong!” 

He went still when the Inquisitor pulled him into a hug and his breathing calmed down slightly. “Focus on me, Cole. We’ll make it right. I promise.” Cole looked up at her with wild frightened eyes but he bobbed his head as she released him. Once he had fully calmed down, the Inquisitor spared a glance at everyone then motioned for them to press forward. Neither she nor Solas were familiar with this part of the Fade and she was not keen to linger with a massive demon lurking about. Dalkan soon recalled the rift producing demons from the waking world was somewhere in the courtyard of Adamant. When he suggested using that as a means to escape, Amanatha hummed thoughtfully before she tapped her chin. The Inquisitor then gave the dwarf a knowing smile.  

“How are we even alive?” Dorian finally asked as they traversed a strange looking marshland. “Is the Inquisitor’s mark keeping us alive?” 

“Possibly.” Solas stated though he carefully threw Amanatha a knowing glance. 

“Solas? Am I right in assuming that this part of the Fade belongs to a fear demon?” 

The mage scanned the area once more before narrowing his eyes, warily bobbing his head in confirmation. He warned the rest of the group to maintain their guard but he had a smile of excitement on his face as he added that they were about to have a fascinating experience. Dalkan and Stroud were not so optimistic. Dorian was wary already along with Cole. Fenris and Hawke kept close to Varric. Blackwall, Dorian, Stroud and Dalkan drew their weapons as they followed the Inquisitor, Solas and Cole. They came across what looked to be frightened spirits calling out for help to quell their fears. They had just finished settling down the spirit of a young child at the top of some stairs by bringing her a stuffed toy when Stroud and Dalkan let out a startled gasp. Standing against a wall, gazing serenely at them donned in robes specifically reserved for the Chantry’s Divine was Divine Justinia. She bowed her head before the group. 

“I greet you, Wardens.” She said calmly at the Grey Wardens then glanced at Amanatha. “And you as well, Champion.” 

Amanatha stood there in shock, like a baby halla before a bear. It couldn’t be. There was no way yet here she was, staring at them with such kind eyes. She was about to speak when Dalkan and Stroud spoke first, voicing their disbeliefs. “That’s not possible.” The dwarf said warily, his fists tightening against the haft of his axe.  

“I fear the Divine before us is not the true Divine.” Stroud said firmly. “That is more likely a demon.” 

Justinia tilted her head to the side, her hood giving off a strange golden shimmer. “You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves.” She then shook her head slowly. “In truth, proving my existence either way would require time we do not possess.” 

“Then simply tells us what you are.” Fenris growled warily, already feeling tense when Hawke gripped his shoulder and he relaxed albeit slightly. 

The Champion of Kirkwall redirected her attention back towards the Divine. “Surely you can understand our concerns and explain what you are.” 

“I am here to help you.” The Divine stated simply before turning towards Amanatha, a sad expression on her face. “You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor.” 

Amanatha shook her head in response. “I do not remember fully. Only bits and pieces and even those were fragmented.” 

Justina nodded solemnly, her eyes closing before she gestured towards her right, pointing through a valley ahead. “The memories you have lost were taken by the demon that serves Corypheus. It is a Nightmare you forget upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror.” 

“Does that mean that it’s been feeding off the Grey Wardens fears from the False Calling that caused them to commit such atrocities?” The Divine Wardens to Dalkan’s question with a sad but curt nod. “Good, now I know the target to bury the end of axe in for this shit-show.” 

Something wasn’t adding up to Amanatha. Corypheus had plenty of demons. Many of them he had under his control through his connection to the Blight but this Nightmare Demon was a different kettle of fish altogether. From what she remembered from her own explorations of the Fade, the Nightmare demon was one of the oldest demons in recorded history and according to Solas, fear was even more ancient than love or even desire. However, demons of such power were not so easily swayed by the whims of mortals or even ancient undead Tevinter Magisters. Justinia noticed the contemplation on the Inquisitor’s face and explained that Corypheus merely stated that the demon would have a glorious feast of devouring fears if it helped him, thus why it was happy to comply. When a child cried at the sight of the archdemon, when a dwarf whimpered when traversing the Deep Roads, and now with the Grey Wardens. The demon certainly feasted well. 

“Perhaps you can answer this question for me then, Ghosty?” Dorian finally chimed in, causing the Divine to adjust her attention to the young Tevinter. “Who was Corypheus?” 

“He was one of the Magisters that unleashed the First Blight upon the world but he was once known as Sethius Amladaris, Unforturnately that is all I know about him.” 

Dorian, Blackwall and Solas then turned to Amanatha who raised a brow at them. “What are you three looking at me like that?” 

“When you were attacked by that giant spider in Crestwood and suffering from its venom, you muttered that same name.” Solas explained then chuckled slightly. “It would seem that in that state, the fear demon unintentionally let slip Corypheus’ actual name but upon waking you did not remember.” 

Dorian smirked. “Now we know he was a just a man which means when we return from the Fade, I will have a starting point.” 

Hawke then reminded the man that they needed to first escape the Fade in order to continue their hunt. The Divine Justinia was inclined to agree. Soon, green wisps of energy surged passed the group spiraling around frantically about the Inquisitor before racing through the canyon. Upon seeing them, Justinia informed them that Amanatha needed to recover the memories the Nightmare stole in order for them to escape. With that, the Divine suddenly disappeared leaving the group to seek out the lost memories. Finding the memories wasn’t difficult, but catching them proved to be a different story. They always seemed to dance just out of Amanatha’s reach. It did not seem to frustrate the elvhen woman though. To her, it was like chasing and catching fireflies back home. She soon managed to collect four of the memory wisps before the rest scattered further, diving deeper in to the realm. Once she caught the four wisps, they merged together, forming a full memory and without hesitation, Amanatha wrapped her hand around the orb feeling the haze in her mind clearing and a ghostly vision of the past emerged before the group. 

A vision of the once great hall of the Temple of Sacred Ashes came into view. Divine Justinia was suspended in the air by spectral chains of red magic. Casting the spells were Grey Wardens staring blankly at the old woman as she struggled against her bindings. Corypheus’ laughter echoed around the room. Justinia glanced around in horror, begging the Grey Wardens to tell her why they serving such a monster. She received no answer from them. Instead, her eyes now focused on the grotesque being sauntering over to her, a strange orb in his hand. “ Keep the sacrifice still .” He ordered the Wardens, his long talons pulsing with a strange magic. The orb crackled to life, pale green energy warping around it in a deceptively peaceful cloak. The Divine whimpered as the same energy from the orb wrapped around her, almost as if it were absorbing something from her.  

“Someone!” Cried the old woman. “Help me!”  

Suddenly, the doors to the inner chamber burst open, an arrow of lightning piercing into Corypheus’ shoulder. “Let her go!”   

Amanatha emerged into the room, her bow trained onto the Magister. The monster ripped the arrow out of his shoulder, glaring at the elf. “You again!” He sneered. “Slay the elf!”  

But before the Wardens could heed the command, Divine Justinia used the distraction to smack the orb out of Corypheus’ hand. The orb landed into Amanatha’s outstretched hand, sparking excitedly. Corypheus’ eyes widen in horror as the orb’s magic seeped into the elf’s hand. He discarded the Divine and raced towards Amanatha but it was too late. An explosion occurred, the shockwave wrapping around her and the Divine in a pale green light.  

The vision ended and Amanatha hissed feeling her head throb slightly from the memory rushing forth. She noticed Solas was mirroring her gesture as well, but she assumed it was from the bright light dissipating. Her thoughts were interrupted when Stroud suddenly spoke. “So, Andraste didn’t bestow her mark on you. It was placed on you by the orb Corypheus carried.”  

The Divine reappeared before them, holding her hands in front of her. She explained that Corypheus was attempting to rip open the Veil and enter the Fade through use of the orb he possessed then thrust open the doors of the Black City. Not for the Old Gods but for himself. She further explained that it wasn’t the first time Amanatha had foiled the Magister’s plans, only that her stealing the Anchor from him was the final straw. That surprised not only Amanatha, but her companions as well. As far as she could remember, she had never met Corypheus prior to the Conclave being destroyed. The Inquisitor narrowed her eyes before glancing at the Divine. “You said we can’t leave the Nightmare’s realm until I’ve regained all my memories, correct?” The Divine nodded once more. “Then let’s press onwards. I’d very much like to reclaim what the demon has stolen from me.” 

“A word of caution, Inquisitor.” Justinia motioned gently. “Now that you have recovered a portion of yourself, know that the demon has been made aware of your presence. Make haste. I shall prepare the way ahead for you.” 

After the Divine vanished once more, Dalkan glanced at Hawke and Fenris. The two both wore concerning expressions on their faces. The lyrium warrior rested a hand on Hawke’s shoulder, inquiring if she was alright and Anara shook her head. The sight of the Divine being held hostage and almost sacrificed was unnerving. However, seeing that was thanks to the Grey Wardens was even worse. Even Dalkan was mortified. When Stroud attempted to reason with the three of them, stating that the Grey Wardens were not in the right mind, the Hero of Fereldan shook his head. It was no excuse. Solas then confirmed that the Nightmare demon was in fact an ancient Fear Demon as he had suspected but that still left more questions than answers. 

Amanatha turned her head towards her companions. “Why would a Fear Demon do this?” 

“It wanted to help at first. Untangle the pain that many wished to avoid accompanying their fears. They forgot and over time, it began to enjoy its feast. It wanted more. So much fear, like flies trapped in a sticky web. Tangled, writhing. Such a delicious feast.” Cole said shaking then vigorously shook his head. “No! That’s not me!” 

The Inquisitor felt the spirit stand closer to her, like a child staying close to a parent for comfort and safety. She rested a calm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I know Cole. We’ll get through this. I promise.” She told him, glaring at sky. “This demon won’t be feasting for long. We need fear just as much as pain and other emotions. If those get taken away, we can never grow. Learn. We can’t learn without failing. Without fear there is no courage. In truth, there must always be a balance.” 

“A wisdom many forget, I’m afraid.” Solas muttered quietly. 

After some time had passed, the Inquisitor and her companions found themselves staring down a massive crevice. On the far side of the chasm was another stone stairway leading towards what they hoped was a rift connected to the waking world. They had only stepped onto the chasm floor when the air seemed to tremble and quake, like someone taking a breath or awakening to a realization. The air before them shimmered with a slight distortion until it cleared itself and the group quickly drew their weapons to the sounds of something skittering around. A deep, resonating laughter rang out around them followed by an even deeper voice. Ancient and somewhat proud.  

“Ah, we have a visitor. How quaint. It would seem we have some silly little girl come to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. Hehe, you should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten. Do you truly believe that pain will make you stronger? What pathetic fool filled your mind with such drivel? You should know that the only one who grows stronger from your fear is me.” The disembodied voice rang out in what could only be described as amusement. “But as you all are guests within my home, please, by all means, let me return to you what has been forgotten!” 

Amanatha growled slightly as she took a step onto the floor, warily observing her surroundings. Something was off. They should be swarmed by demons by now. One by one, the rest of her company followed her. Just as Fenris was the last one to step foot on to the floor, the ground began to quake and tremble. Confused, everyone tried to steady themselves but cries of shock were soon the song that sang in the area. Rock walls shot up from below, dividing the group up and blocking their means of back-tracking. Shouts of frustration and anger resonated off the tall walls. “Everyone alright?!” She called out. One by one, she heard the voices of each of her companions calling out to her, confirming that they were all alive and well just split up by what they soon discovered was a labyrinth. 

“We appear to be in a maze of some sort!” Varric huffed. 

Stroud and Dalkan grumbled in frustration. “If we’re in a maze, then the paths must diverge to the stairs we saw.” 

“Stay alert.” Amanatha ordered. “We don’t know what this creature has in store for us, but I can assume that it will not be pleasant.” 

With her warning given, everyone began to tread through their hallways with caution. Above them, a shadowy figure sitting upon a hazy throne watched his prey navigate the maze like they were rats. He rested his chin on his hand. Now the fun and feast can begin. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Cole:  

The Spirit of Compassion whimpered as he practically clung to the walls. This place was wrong. This was not home. He did not want to be here. It was dark, dank and cold. The air felt stagnant and oppressive. Memories began flooding his mind. Memories of a tower spire. A young boy, battered and bruised crying out for help. To anyone who would listen. Muffled voices echoed in his head as he spun around, a lost look on his face and he tried to hide his eyes under the brim of his hat.  

“Are you afraid, Cole?” The fear demon taunted. “I can help you forget. After all, we are so very much alike, you and I.” 

“No.” Replied the spirit, albeit shakily. 

Cold, cruel laughter bounced off the walls, like the laughter of the templars. Cole tried to drown them, clutching and covering his ears to muffle the foul voice taunting him overhead. He instead tried to focus on the people that he had helped. The hurts he mended. The relief was short lived for he saw tiny versions of despair demons skittering and crawling along the walls towards him. He tried to turn back but found the way blocked by more of the fear demon’s minions. “Poor unfortunate Cole. You thought you were helping those poor souls. It never mattered in the end. They still have more pain that you can never fix or mend. Just like you couldn’t save that poor little apostate in the tower .” The demon laughed. “I can take that pain away for you. Wouldn’t you like that, Cole?” 

“Leave me alone!” Cole cried out, covering his ears once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Dorian  

The Tevinter mage held out a fistful of flames, slowly making his way through the maze. He could overhear the Fear Demon taunting the poor spirit, Cole. He could even picture the beast chipping away at the poor thing. He was about to the turn a corner when he heard the hissing of wind behind him, forcing him to glance over his shoulder cautiously. After scanning the path behind him, Dorian continued on his way only to run into a small horde of small demons taking on the shape of mini desire demons dressed rather scandalously. He threw his orb of fire at them watching them scatter and chitter almost like they were laughing at him. Then the damn demon began talking to him. 

“Greetings, Dorian.” It said then paused thoughtfully. “It is Dorian, isn’t it? For a moment I mistook you for your father.” 

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Well, that was rather uncalled for.” 

He rounded another corner then froze. He saw a vision of his father and a younger version of himself. From the looks of things, this was a version of himself being put through a blood-magic ritual. He went rigid, the demon overhead laughing softly. “You know he would have done it, Dorian. He would have preferred it too. But then again, you can’t seem to avoid temptation.” 

Dorian chose to ignore the jab but the damage was there and he couldn’t stop the shudder chasing down his spine. That fear of being changed had him fighting bile deep within his stomach. In truth, he was uncertain and that made things even more terrifying to him. He pressed on, still rattled by the demon’s words. He was more than eager to leave this realm. The sooner, the better. He thought. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Varric  

The dwarf clutched Bianca tightly, the crossbow creaking within his grasp. This place was worse than the time he, Riordan, Anara, Fenris and Bethany were traversing the Deep Roads with Bartrand. At the moment, he was actually preferring that memory over this Fade shit. He needed to find Hawke and Fenris. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but the dwarf was fairly certain that Hawke and Broody were just a few corners away. He spotted movement and his reflexes kicked in. He fired the crossbow and watched a mini version of creatures covered in red lyrium screech in pain before evaporating into nothingness. Varric shuddered. He never would get used to the sight of those things. He shook his head once more, quickly dispelling the image of the former Knight-Commander Meradith back in Kirkwall, how her body had become encased in the vile stuff transforming into a twisted statue of herself.  

“Hahaha... once again, the Hawke family is in danger because of you, Varric. You found the red lyrium and then you roped Hawke’s sister in to it.” The fear demon snickered in delight. “What will you do when Anara dies here, Varric? Send a poetic letter to her brother explaining how you failed her? Or will Fenris kill you first?” 

Varric gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on Bianca. “Keep talking, Smiley. Keep talking.” 

He let out a shout when a large version of a red lyrium beast leapt at him from around a corner and he fired once more, watching the bolt pierce through the demon minion’s skull. He broke into a jog, his voice calling out to Fenris and Anara at first, then he called out for Amanatha and the others. He promised himself that once they all got out of this place, he’d buy everyone a drink. Maybe he’d rope the Spitfire into a round of Wicked Grace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Blackwall  

The Grey Warden kept his shield raised and his sword at the ready. He was practically tiptoeing around the maze looking for any signs of the Inquisitor and the others. The man turned his head towards the green sky and frowned. He couldn’t see over the walls but he could hear the demon taunting his companions, tearing them down from the inside emotionally. He suddenly felt an icy feeling clutch at his chest when he saw what appeared to a mongrel looking dog with a twisted neck lumbering towards him whining. His eyes widened in horror as he slammed his shield into the creature when it lunged at him. Blackwall panted slightly as he began to run through the halls. He swore he saw a familiar figure bearing the Grey Warden’s symbol on their back and rushed to join them only to stop when it morphed into a grotesque looking monster with many tentacles for a face. 

“Perhaps I should be afraid, facing the Inquisition’s most powerful members. Like you, Blackwall. Ah, there’s nothing like a Grey Warden? Am I wrong?” The creature said licking its lips... maw... face? Did it even have a face? Blackwall blinked and the creature was gone. Of so he thought when he felt something cold and slimy next to his ear. “Oh, but you are nothing like a Grey Warden. If that.” 

Blackwall let out a yell, swinging his blade at the entity only to discover he had sliced nothing but air. The human sneered, biting hard and hearing his teeth grind against each other in frustration. “I’ll show you a Warden’s strength, beast!” 

“Oh, will you now? Then by all means, Blackwall show me this so-called Warden’s strength . I am certain we are all eager to see such a demonstration.” Blackwall heard the demon challenge brightly and that caused the man to falter. He was really starting to hate this thing as well as the Fade itself. He just wanted to wake up from this nightmare! 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hawke and Fenris  

Anara growled in frustration. She had just arrived at yet another dead end and she swore the hallways purposely kept changing. She was starting to think Merril had the right idea of carrying around a ball of string to keep from getting lost. Maybe she’d do that too once she got out of this hellhole. She gripped her daggers tightly, glancing down at the one Fenris had made for her on their wedding and nodded firmly to herself. She’d find him soon enough. She pressed on. Maybe Riordan would be nice enough to lend the manor for a couple days for her and Fenris. Or perhaps she and Isabella could cause some mischief at the Hanged Man tavern. She chuckled to herself. Yeah, that would work. Maybe mess with Aveline, too. 

“Did you think you mattered, Anara? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t save your city. Hell, you couldn’t even save your own mother! How could you expect to strike down a god?” The fear demon taunted, its voice echoing around her. “Face it, girl! You will never amount to anything. Your big brother Riordan has to save your hide again.” 

“We’re twins, you stupid demon.” Anara sneered at the sky above. “Get your facts straight!” 

Fenris overheard his wife snap from the wall on his left and he planted a hand on the stone. He smirked at Anara’s comment to the demon. She hated being compared to her twin. The lyrium warrior closed his eyes and began to focus on his markings. He was almost about to phase through the wall when the demon suddenly whispered in his ear causing him to flinch at the breath on his markings.  

“Little Leto thinks he’s free but he can never be free. He still wears the collar on his skin. I imagine they sting a bit. Do you really think they are enough to save your precious little jewel? After all, you couldn’t even save your family, pathetic little runt.” 

Fenris ignored the remarks and continued focusing on his task. It hurt... a lot. Phasing through solid objects was always painful but right now, he was more concerned about the woman on the opposite side of this wall. He could hear the demon sneering in anger as the elf emerged on the other side of the wall and was now standing before Anara who grinned up at her husband. She grunted when the warrior pulled her close to his body. The two shared the brief moment of comfort before remembering where they were. “This fear demon certainly knows where to hurt us most.” 

“Indeed, but fears are only scary when we’re alone.” Fenris pointed out as the two drew their weapons once more. “But when we stand together, fears struggle to find a foothold.” 

Anara chuckled in agreement. “True. Now let us find Varric and the others so we can get out of here.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Dalkan and Stroud  

The Hero of Fereldan and Stroud managed to find each other quick enough, though Dalkan somehow managed to break through several walls of the maze to get to his fellow Warden. They weren’t really affected by the Fear Demon’s antics. True most of the minions they saw looked like different kinds of darkspawn. No matter what the Fear Demon did, it could not put a dent in the dwarf’s emotion armor. It even tried to bring his old flame into the mixture by saying he’d lose them either way and Dalkan merely laughed. He had dealt with an archdemon trying to kill him. He dealt with his brother, the king of Orzammar, betraying him as well and both had failed. Stroud found his companion’s strength of will extraordinary. Soon enough, the fear demon abandoned its taunting of the dwarven hero and Stroud for the time being.  

“Ah, what’s the matter demon?” Dalkan grinned. “Not used to having an ornery dwarf ignore the shit out of you?” 

Stroud rolled his eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit.” 

“And I don’t plan to, Stroud. Someone has to keep a bright tone in all of this.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas  

As he wandered through the labyrinth, the mage kept a cool head as he traversed the winding halls. He spotted what looked to essences of loneliness scampering about before him. This was not unfamiliar to him. He had, after all, dealt with these sorts of feelings from this creature before. However, unlike before, he no longer felt that pain of loneliness. When that fear tried to settle within him, it was as though something chased that cold away. His thoughts briefly lingered towards the Inquisitor and the thought of her evaporated the ice-cold grip of isolation. Odd, but not unwelcomed. He hardly flinched when the grotesque image of fear manifested before him, leaning against the wall with its arms folded over its chest while its spindly appendages on its back quivered like fragile wings. 

“Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din.” It said with a shrug. 

Solas held his hands behind his back, his gaze hardening. “Banal nadas.” He just knew it would try to jab at his past mistakes, but he was prepared for that at least. He maintained a neutral expression though he was smirking internally.  

“Soun dirth, Harellan, oli ar eolasa lyriknao. Ma enfenim har ash. Sjerit ma fortroga wux mar myathem falon.” The demon grinned noticing the subtle flinch of the apostate followed by the frown accompanying his face. "Not only will you fail in your ambition, but you will lose her in the process as well.” 

Solas growled as the demon vanished as quickly as it appeared and he felt a pain in his chest. It tightened further when he recalled Mythal’s last moments before her demise at the hands of Elgar’nan and his pantheon. How he begged for her not to go, how he pleaded for her to just stay with him and yet she refused. Suddenly, he had a horrible thought. He recalled the conversation he had with Atthon, his words echoing within his mind. She doesn’t know what she is, but you can sense it within her. He recalled. For once he prayed the elder was wrong. However, if he was right, then he would strive to keep history from repeating itself once more. Soon the image of Mythal's destroyed body laying before him was replaced with an image of Amanatha laying motionlessly before him. The light that once burned so brightly within her from her spirit now gone. Fear gripped even tighter, making his breathing even hard to obtain. He couldn't let that happen. But then another question wandered into his mind. Where was the Inquisitor now? 

Chapter Text

Amanatha finished setting the small fear demons ablaze, shivering as the spiderlings curled up into charred husks. She rubbed her shoulder, turning her head up towards the sky and shaking her head. The demon had been systematically chewing away at her friends fears and doubts to the point where she could still hear Cole’s whimpers over the walls. She felt a tightness of fear in her chest and she closed her eyes trying to locate the source. It felt familiar but she wasn’t sure who she was sensing. She knew she had to get everyone out of the maze and soon. The Elvhen woman took a running leap and started bouncing off the walls, scaling them until she was perched on top. She could hear the fear demon growling in annoyance but found it odd that it had yet to pick on her. The Inquisitor opted not to worry about it for the time being. Right now, her friends needed her. Closing her eyes, she began to listening for the voices of her companions. Cole was the easiest and she raced towards the spirit.  

Cole let out a startled cry when she landed in front of him. She found him curled and hunched over like a frightened child, whimpering. He nearly flinched when she knelt down beside him and pulled him into a hug. It was warm, like a blanket. Comforting like fire chasing the shadows away and bright like the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds. The Spirit of Compassion felt his breathing slow and even out then when his eyes focused solely on her, he hugged her back. She rose to her feet with him mirroring her movements and she smiled calmly. “ Ir abelas, da’len . I did not mean for you to suffer this long.” She said reassuringly. “But I need your help. Can you find our friends by locating their hurt?”  

He nodded. 

“Then let us retrieve them before the demon finishes his meal.” 

The spirit nodded again, finding his resolve. It took them quite some time, but they were able to locate Varric, Hawke, Fenris first. Then shortly afterwards, they nearly lost their heads encountering Dalkan and Stroud. Blackwall was a little harder to convince that they were not the demon’s minions but the Warden soon came out of his fear haze. Dorian was easiest to find. He loved talking about himself and that actually was a boon in finding him though he appeared more than a little rattled. The only one they were missing now was Solas. Cole muttered about the apostate being close but far away at the same time. It took some time to piece together what the spirit meant but Amanatha soon discovered that physically, Solas was close by but spiritually he was far away. Possibly trapped within his own fear or nightmare. Whatever it was.  

The Inquisitor urged her companions forward to find their friend. All the while, the Nightmare demon took special care to study the woman. It had to admit, Amanatha was certainly a hard shell to crack. The creature watched as the Inquisitor slew more of its minions, always being the shield for her companions. It knew she feared losing those she cared about. That was a common fear among all creatures but she seemed to always be the one to chase those fears away. Then, as the Elvhen woman drew closer to the apostate, a thought began to form. Neither believed in the Evanuris as gods but... There it was! It had her. What she feared the most was becoming exactly like the beings she hated. 

Amanatha waved her hand in front of Solas’ face causing the mage to shake his head as though dispelling a thought and he glanced down at the woman. “You alright?” 

“I am alright. Fear demons are a trying bunch.” He said as he acknowledged the others quietly. “We should make haste now. I doubt the fear demon will have much power over us now that we are all together.” 

Amanatha and her companions let out a sigh of relief as they navigated through the maze once more and finally arrived at the staircase. They also found Justinia once more waiting for them atop the summit. She had a look of worry on her features. At a guess, Amanatha assumed that the demon was angry that its food was both fighting back and almost near enough to the rift to escape. They found more fragmented memories flying around erratically until the Inquisitor held out a soothing hand and coaxed the memories to return to her. This time, as the fragments melded together then settled back within their owner, there was no pain this time. Silently, Amanatha flattened her hand in front of her, like she was trying to push a wall and a vision came into view.  

“The demons!” Justinia cried out looking over her shoulder.  

The elf woman didn’t even look back. Instead, she grabbed the old woman’s shoulder and pushed her forward. “Just keep running!”  

Amanatha and the Divine were sprinting away from a horde of spider demons and they were rapidly gaining on the two women. The Dalish woman spun around, throwing a streak of fire at their pursuers causing them to stagger backwards allowing the women to continue running. They found a rather steep looking staircase leading to a strange portal on top. Not wasting anytime, Amanatha gave Justinia a leg up, ordering her to keep climbing. The Dalish took out a flask and threw it at the demons now advancing towards her watching it shatter and burst into flames. The spiders screamed and crumpled up under the heat. Panting, Amanatha quickly began scaling up the staircase like it was a rock wall. She could hear the demons screeching hungrily at her. She nearly missed having one bite at her foot. Divine Justinia reached out her hand, intent on pulling the elf up.   

Amanatha gripped the offered hand and the two grunted as she climbed to the summit. Not wasting any time, the elf and human sprinted towards the rift. They were almost to the rift, mere inches really when the Divine let out a pained scream. Amanatha whipped around and saw the fear hand snatched the woman in its clutches, its talons ripping into her flesh. Amanatha had a spell ready to cast but the old woman shook her head as if knowing her fate. “Go.” Was all she said as the demon yanked her deeper into the abyss. The elf cried out in dismay but was forced to retreat as the small beasts swarmed after her. She leapt through the rift and the memory faded after that.  

Lavellan rubbed her head as her vision cleared. She remembered now. The scouts who found her at Haven believed that it was Andraste delivering her out of the Fade but in truth, it was the Divine who was behind her. She lowered her head. The Divine died so she could escape. The being before them nodded sadly. That meant, this woman aiding them was actually a spirit reflecting the late Divine’s image. A spirit of Faith, Amanatha deduced. When the spirit tried to apologize, the Inquisitor shook her head with a smile. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re helping us. That is good enough.” She said to the spirit and the Divine smiled softly at her before her body became enveloped in a brilliant fiery gold light and she hovered over the group protectively. 

“What we do know is that the real mortal Divine perished at the Temple.” Fenris growled turning his head to Stroud and Dalkan. “Thanks to the Grey Wardens.” 

Stroud frowned at the lyrium warrior. “They were being controlled by Corypheus. You and Hawke saw this happen when you all faced the bastard before.” 

“It doesn’t matter if they were being controlled, Stroud.” Dalkan sighed, shaking his head. “They still killed the Divine. Either way things don’t look good.” 

“We can discuss this further once we return to Adamant.” Dalkan’s companion huffed disappointedly. 

It was Hawke’s turn to be snarky. “Oh, yes, Adamant, where the Inquisition’s forces are facing a demon army raised by the Wardens.” 

Stroud sneered at the woman. “You and your family tore apart Kirkwall and started a mage rebellion!” 

“To protect innocent mages! Not madmen drunk on blood magic!” Anara defended harshly then jabbed a finger into Stroud’s chestplate. “But you’d ignore that, because you can’t imagine a world without the Wardens... even if that’s what we need! The Wardens have gone mad. Maybe they always were. Either way, someone has to stop them!” 

“Now hold on missy!” Dalkan growled. “That’s uncalled for!” 

“No,” Solas began with a gentle shake of his head, “Hawke is correct. The Wardens may have served a greater good, but they are far too dangerous now.” 

Cole glanced between the Wardens and the Heros of Kirkwall. “The blood sings softly. It never stops, and then it’s all they hear. We can’t let them hurt more people.” 

Blackwall was aghast! “You cannot be serious! You want to get rid of the Wardens? Everyone makes mistakes and they would have died to save us!” 

“I am inclined to agree with Blackwall, Natha. They might still be useful.” Dorian chimed in gesturing at Dalkan and Stroud. “What if Corypheus conjures up another Blight? You never know.” 

Everyone turned towards Varric who rolled his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to tell them. He wasn’t blind to the good Wardens but he also reminded them that an awful lot of Grey Wardens he once knew wound up going crazy. Amanatha felt her eye twitch in annoyance. Deciding she had heard enough, she held up a hand and a small bolt of lightning struck between the group, emitting a loud crack silencing everyone. “Av’ingalas orn dan Fen’harel! Will everyone please shut up?!” She snarled earning several stunned glances. She hardly ever invoked an Elvhen God’s name, but before anyone could speak, the Inquisitor immediately shut them down. “We can argue about this once we’ve escaped from this giant fear demon. Is that understood?” The silence was answer enough. Amanatha glanced at the spirit of Faith and nodded for her to continue guiding them.  

As the spirit led them through a narrow passageway, Amanatha couldn’t help but notice that the Fear demon had suddenly gone quiet. She wasn’t certain why but she had a hunch that it was either contemplating something or setting a trap. Perhaps both. Upon emerging from the passage, Hawke pointed at the rift ahead. It was closer now and resting on another summit several miles beneath the Black City. “There’s the rift! We’re almost there!” 

“And now the demon knows it too.” Fenris stated gravely.  

Varric chuckled wryly. “Yeah, Hawke. Why not just dare the Old Gods to try and stop you?” 

“Do not tempt them.” Amanatha and Solas muttered under their breaths. 

They were almost at the base of the summit when a muffled hiss echoed around them. The air was stranger. Like a predator was stalking behind them. Amanatha was standing in the back of the group, making sure they wouldn’t get flanked when the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. She wasn’t the only one who felt the presence. Cole was the second one to feel it then Solas when he felt a cold sensation wash over him. However, it was Hawke who shouted in alarm but her warning came too late. Amanatha felt a pair of cold arms wrapping around her shoulders and waist from behind and eight fragile looking spider-like appendages came into view. “I’m not finished with you yet!” Sneered the demon, its slimy tendrils caressing her cheek. Before she could even attempt to break free, a scabby hand clamped over her mouth and a stone dome encased her and the demon within. 

“Inquisitor!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha thrashed in the Fear Demon’s grasp, her legs kicking and dangling as she tried to break free. It was only luck when she elbowed the demon’s ribcage and it was forced to drop her with a snarl. The Inquisitor quickly ignited a fistful of veilfire to give her some light within the confines of the dark dome only to have it almost get extinguished when the foul beast lunged at her with a screaming laugh. “Release me, demon!” The elf demanded as the demon cackled once more. “You’ve lost and you know it.” 

“Have you forgotten whose domain you are it, da’len?” The demon taunted. “ For a mortal, you certainly act like the Ancient Elvhen gods.” A subtle flinch. “Did I strike a nerve?” 

“I’m not like them!”  

The Fear Demon’s limbs quivered excitedly. “Yet here you are, in my realm, flaunting your prowess just as they did.” 

“I’m trying to save the souls you have harmed while in service to your master!” She countered sharply. 

She suddenly flicked her wrist, a hidden dagger shooting forth from her sleeve and the demon hissed when the blade lodged itself in its shoulder. It had to glide backwards to evade the Inquisitor’s fireball and it growled slightly. It was about to throw the dagger in its shoulder back at the woman when another fireball exploded in front of its face, inflicting a nasty burn. The Fear Demon shook its head then it smiled at her. Just as Amanatha rushed forward, intent on driving her dagger through its stomach, the demon snagged the woman by her throat and lifted her in the air.  

“Put me down!” She demanded the creature, fingers wrapped around the appendage. 

“Hahaha. In due time, da’len.” The demon chuckled darkly, relishing in the woman’s discomfort. “I was curious as to why you were so afraid of yourself and it would appear you are correct to do so. You are certainly powerful. Just like the Evanuris.”  

“I am nothing like those tyrants!” 

It tilted its head, grinning sadistically. “Do you honestly believe that you are just a gifted mage?” 

Amanatha glared at the demon, her fingers trying and failing to pry the scabby, bony fingers from her throat. “Do not pretend to know me, demon.” She spat. 

“Oh, I understand you perfectly, da’len.” It smirked insistently while trailing one of the tendrils from its face across her neck making the woman shudder. “You can be in denial all you wish. It will not change what you are. You are what you because after all, you are your father’s daughter.” 

“Shut up!” She cried out angrily. 

The Fear Demon laughed once more, sensing the Inquisitor’s fear rising. “Even if by some miracle you were to defeat Corypheus, you’d soon fall to your Inquisition. Do you honestly think they would accept you, an Evanuris, as their leader? Once you have sealed the Breach they will kill you.” The Demon stated with a small shrug of its shoulders. “You know that. Maybe you should just destroy the world yourself. End the world before it can tear itself apart but you won’t. Know why?” She hissed as the monster tightened its hold on her. “Because you are WEAK!”  

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Shield cracks and breaks unable to withstand any more blows. She defends so many but the shield can only take so much. Who defends the shield when it finally shatters?” Cole whimpered as he slammed his fist on the dome. “She’s scared. She doesn’t want to use it but she has to! We need to get her out!”  

Blackwall was already swinging his blade at the black crystal dome with Dorian and Solas casting spell after spell to try and sunder the prison. “Hold on, Inquisitor!” Blackwall shouted. “Don’t listen to that piece of shit, whatever it’s saying to you isn’t true!” Stroud and Dalkan joined in the fray, chipping away at the prison with Hawke and Fenris adding their strength as well.  

“VHENAN!” Solas shouted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha finally heard enough from the demon and in a last-ditch effort to get it to release her, she sank her teeth into its hand. With a scream, the fear demon flung her aside, gripping its injured hand. The Inquisitor started panting heavily. Her heart pounded in her chest, cold sweat beading down her face. She covered her ears as the demon’s taunting continued to echo in her head. I’m not like them! I’m not like them! I! AM! NOT! THEM! She shook her head. It’s not true! There’s no way! There is just no possible way!  

“He would leave you if he learned the truth.” The demon taunted as he circled her, absolutely delighting in its success but it was that simple sentence that ensnared her thoroughly. “You are no different from those you pretend-” 

But it could not finish its sentence. In fact, the last thing it saw was the Inquisitor glaring at it with cold, glowing green eyes. Next was the sound of rocks falling catching its attention. It watched in horror as its body started transforming into stone. It crept slowly up its body like a cascading waterfall and the demon roared in anguish as it tried in vain to halt the process. Within moments, all that remained of the demon was a petrified statue, looming over Amanatha in an attempt to thwart her. She stared up at the statue, eyes dimming then widening and she hugged herself, choking back sobs.  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

The dome encapsulating the Inquisitor suddenly began crack and crumble. The Spirit of Faith pulled the Inquisitor’s team back just as the prison shattered and Solas felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight. There was the Fear Demon, trapped in stone looming over her. He ignored the stunned silence of the others and slowly approached Amanatha. He reached out, and rested a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and whipped her head in his direction. He said not a word but he didn’t need to. Amanatha cleared her throat, composing herself before ordering the others to press on. They were almost out anyway. They jogged up the stairs, the visage of the Divine guiding the way and just as they neared the portal, a demonic spider descended before them. It was the size of a mountain and had so many twitching eyes.  

“I really hate spiders...” Hissed the Inquisitor. 

“You and me both, Inquisitor.” Dalkan grumbled, “You and me, both.” 

The Spirit of Faith did not hesitate. She flew straight into the beast, her corporeal form exploding in a brilliant display of golds and reds. The spider screamed as its massive body erupted into flames but it did not fall. It skittered maliciously in front of the portal clicking its mandibles menacingly. They needed to form a path but the demon before them seemed to be taunting them, daring them to proceed. 

Fenris groaned in exasperation. “Of course, the damn thing won’t make it easy.” 

“Go! I’ll cover your escape!” Hawke urged as she reached for her blade. 

“Like hell you will!” The lyrium warrior and Varric shouted. 

Dalkan was already strolling towards the demon only to be held back by Stroud. “Dammit, Stroud! Let me at him!” 

“No! You need to the lead the Wardens, Dalkan! They need a hero to look up to!” Stroud snapped before charging towards the demon. He took a running leap, sword drawn and he plunged it into the vile demon’s face. The spider reared up swinging its body around to throw the Grey Warden off of it. Amanatha gave her team an insistent shove, urging them to escape through the rift. Once she was certain they all escaped through, she saw the Spirit of Faith appear before her once more. 

“Tell the Wardens they are needed in Weisshaupt.” Said the spirit before departing to aid Stroud once more while Amanatha leapt through the rift herself. 

Chapter Text

Amanatha was the last to emerge out of the Fade, her eyes hard and devoid of emotion as she snapped her fingers. Her left hand pulsed with the power of the Anchor and the rift behind her sewed itself shut with little thought. She stared intently at the surviving Grey Wardens. Her companions were also gazing up at her mixtures of relief and concern lacing their features from their ordeal. Hawke confirmed that without the Nightmare to control them, the mages were free and Corypheus no longer had his army. Fenris stated that as far as the Wardens were concerned, Lavellan had broken the spell with blessing of the Maker. While Amanatha would rather speak the truth, she noticed her companions giving small shakes of their heads trying to dissuade her from doing so. There had been so much death. They needed something to look up to. Now that they saw Amanatha emerge from the Fade twice and virtually unharmed , they had something to believe in. 

She hardly had a chance to catch her breath when one of the Inquisition scouts rushed towards her panting heavily. “My Lady Inquisitor! The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared.” 

“What of the Venatori magister?” 

“He lives, though he is unconscious. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself.” 

Amanatha nodded her head firmly. “Have Cullen deliver him to Skyhold.” 

“What of the Wardens, my Lady?” The scout inquired gesturing to the Grey Wardens staring at the group, nervously shuffling their feet. “Some of the Wardens, that is, those that weren’t corrupted helped us fight the remaining demons. They wish to atone for the terrible mistake they made under Clarel’s judgement.” 

One of the Wardens stepped forward. “Where is Warden Stroud?” 

Amanatha cringed inwardly but thankfully Dalkan spoke instead and turned towards his fellow warriors in arms. “Warden Stroud died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight. We will honor his sacrifice, and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens. Even as Corypheus tried to destroy us from within.” 

“Inquisitor, we have no one left of any significant rank. What do we do now?” 

Amanatha shook her head, gesturing towards Dalkan. “You do actually. Dalkan, the Hero of Ferelden can lead you.” She then closed her eyes. “As for what you can do, you are needed in Weisshaupt. Before leaving a Fade, a Spirit of Faith asked me to deliver this message.” 

“Weisshaupt? But what about Corypheus?!” Another Warden cried out. “What if Corypheus summons a Blight here?” 

Amanatha opened her eyes slowly and exhaled softly. “The Inquisition will handle Corypheus, my friends, but your duty lies within Weishaupt now. I know not what is to come but I believe that the Maker would not have a Spirit of Faith give such a message. Something foul is afoot and Weisshaupt is in dire need of your aid.” 

Before any of the Wardens could try and protest, Dalkan barked at the others firmly. He reminded them that if the Maker’s Chosen said that the Wardens were needed elsewhere, who were they to defy such a holy order. The dwarf gave the elf a wink and she smiled gratefully. She added that Hawke and Fenris would also accompany them as added security. The two warriors thumped their chests in agreement. Amanatha then instructed that everyone just rest for the remainder of the evening before departing. They did, after all, endured quite the hardships and needed to replenish their strength.  

A few hours later of removing rubble, tending to the wounded and burying he dead, everyone was decompressing from the chaos that occurred earlier. Amanatha was sitting by a fire, stirring a pot of soup when her left ear twitched and she glanced over her left shoulder to find Blackwall standing behind her. “What’s wrong Blackwall?” 

“I know you ordered the Grey Wardens to leave for Weisshaupt but if you don’t mind, your Worship, I would very much like to stay with the Inquisition.” He requested. “If you would allow it.” 

“You may stay, Blackwall.”  

He nodded with a weak smile before departing from her camp. She lifted her head, smiling as she saw Varric, Hawke and Fenris exchanging stories amongst each other. Cullen, Blackwall and the other soldiers were huddled close by the fires enjoying a nice meal. Dalkan and Leliana were hanging out with the other Wardens, the younger recruits completely entranced with the legendary Hero’s tales. Cole was busy at the infirmary tents doing what he did best: healing. Dorian was seen talking with a senior Warden while going over some scrolls. Solas was around somewhere, probably trying to find quiet spot to sleep. Not that she blamed him. Everyone was trying to forget what they endured in the Fade, herself included. She continued to stir the pot until she was certain the soup was ready and collected a bowl for herself.  

However, she hardly ate a bite. All she did was stare at the contents, lost in the winding roads of her thoughts. Soon, she began to notice that the others were watching her, so she forced herself to drink down her meal though her stomach just wanted to rebel. She couldn’t get the demon’s taunting out of her head. It took every ounce of energy not throw the empty bowl against the ground. She quickly cleaned her pot and doused the fire before swiftly retiring to her tent for the night. She didn’t even bother undressing from her armor. She just curled up on the furs, hugging herself. I’m not like them... am I ? 

As Solas returned to the camp, he was walking past a fire where Varric and the others were huddled against the warm flames. He then spotted Cole standing near the Inquisitor’s tent, the fire of her camp was out and the tent flaps were closed. He turned his gaze back to the spirit who had his head down sadly. 

“Cracked, hardening, isolated. I can’t mend her hurt. She tries and tries to fix the cracks but she can’t.” He said shaking his head. “She recovered more of herself but she is afraid. Maybe you can help mend her hurt?” 

“I will endeavor to try, Cole. Thank you for helping her. I shall take it from here.” 

The spirit bobbed his head slightly, a small smile gracing his features before he departed back to the infirmary to help the wounded. Solas pulled the tent flaps aside and felt his heart tighten at the sight before him. Amanatha was curled up in a tight ball, her eyes puffy and stained with tears. She had cried herself to sleep, it would seem. He set his gear down and knelt down beside her. He merely intended to brush the strands of hair covering her face when her eyes partially opened, and they stared up at him almost blankly. She sat up slowly and exhaled sharply through her nose before speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. “Are you alright, Solas?” 

“I should be asking you that.” The mage countered. 

She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m fine.” She lied. “I have to be.” 

The mage frowned. She was more than a little rattled from the events that occurred. He leaned back, planting a palm onto one of the walls of the tent and whispered softly. A pale blue wave of magic raced along the fabric and enveloped them. A muffling spell, the Inquisitor deduced, designed to keep ease droppers from listening but allowed the occupants to remain aware of the outside world. “ Dirtha em, Vhenan .” He whispered to her as she sat up and crossed her legs under her. “Please. I cannot help you unless you speak.” 

There was a long pause followed by a painful silence. Amanatha glanced down as she folded her hands into her lap. She opened her mouth, closed it, then took a deep breath and opened it once more. “I remembered...” 

“Remembered what, Vhenan ?” 

“Why Mienassan left me and my father...” She said refusing to lift her head. “Along with the other memories the demon took from me. May I ask you something?” 

Solas nodded softly. “Of course you can.” 

“Do you ever have moments where you hate yourself for being what you are? Like being a mage or an elf, or whatever reason?” 

The mage felt his brow sag sadly but he gave her a quiet nod. “I have had moments that linger on those thoughts at times.” She placed her left her hand on her shoulder and clenched it tightly. Solas wasn’t entirely sure how, but he could sense that the woman was struggling to find her words while also processing the newly restored memories the demon had stripped from her. He reached out to her, gently cradling her chin and slowly, he lifted her gaze so it met his. “Would it be easier for you if we were examining these memories in the Fade?” He barely heard the soft ‘yes’ leave her lips and he brushed her hair behind her proud pointed ears. He then suggested she at least take off her armor so she could be more comfortable and even gave her the privacy to change by turning around. He heard the soft thumps of the armor being laid down behind her and when she lightly tapped his shoulder, the two laid down on the soft furs. Solas felt his breath hitch when the Inquisitor practically curled up against him, but he draped an arm protectively around her as they drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Solas was found himself back in the Lavellan family home, much to his surprise. He soon felt a hand on his shoulder and found Amanatha standing behind him, holding a finger to her lips before nodding towards a crack of light coming from a door. Solas soon discovered that they were in a bedroom or more specifically, the bedroom of a child version of the Inquisitor. There were sounds of a muffled argument occurring outside the room. It sounded like Atthon and Mienassan. He strained to listen to the conversation but it proved difficult until his ears caught the sound of blankets rustling. The little Lavellan had been awoken from her sleep to the commotion and like any curious child, waddled through the door to find the source. Amanatha nodded her head at the hedge mage and the two followed after the child quietly.  

“You’re not serious about leaving, are you Vhenan?” Atthon’s voice rang out. “Amanatha is only four. She needs her mother!”  

“That thing is not my daughter! Not anymore!”  

Atthon growled in shock. “Assan!”  

“No! I’ve tried to ignore the fact that you hid your true form from me but no more!” The woman snapped. “If I had known she would turn out to be like you, I’d never would have had her!”  

Atthon shook his head. “That’s not fair! So, what if she is gifted with magic? So, what if she is a Dreamer?”  

“She is a monster! Guaranteed, she will become just like those tyrannical Elvhen Gods!”  

“Vhenan!”  

Solas saw glanced down at the little Amanatha hiding behind a corner listening to everything. His heart ached at the shock and pain lacing the child’s face. Hearing one’s parent calling you a monster was worse than a dagger in the heart. At least the dagger only hurts for a moment. Pain like that lingered. He watched as Amanatha’s younger self wandered into the room and Atthon gasped, realizing that his daughter heard the entire conversation. “Mamae?” Amanatha called out sadly and she flinched when her mother shot her a glare so cold that it had the tiny thing hide back behind the wall. Mienassan turned her attention back to Atthon. She brushed past the man and collected her bag by the door then slung it over her shoulder. She didn’t even look back as she slammed the door behind her. Atthon rushed towards his daughter who was crying. He scooped her up as she clung to his shirt, and he rested his chin on her head.  

“Shhhh. It’s alright da’len.” He whispered to her, stroking the back of her head. “She’s wrong about you.”  

He cradled the child back to his room, Amanatha refusing to release her father and return to her bed.  

As the memory faded into an empty field, Solas turned towards the Inquisitor and found her sitting in the tall grass, looking up at the blue-green sky. “I was so young, and afraid of that day that I had wished it was just simply a bad dream I had. The Fear Demon took it, and I forgot about it, but the pain was still there.” She felt him sit beside her. “I think it was after that incident I began learning more about melee weapons. Archery, dual-wielding, you name it. I hardly used my magic because I was afraid of becoming like the Evanuris. I even avoided going into the Fade after that. But in truth, I knew deep down I was only fooling myself, saying that I was just gifted in the fields of magic.”  

“But you weren’t fooling yourself. You truly are gifted in magic.” He pointed out softly. “There is nothing wrong with that.”  

“What if she was right, Solas?” She asked, choking back tears. “What if I am no better than they were? Fenedhis! I can’t! I can’t become that!”  

“Natha, diana!” Solas grabbed her shoulders, gently turning her towards him then he planted both his hands on face feeling his heart ache painfully at her distress as tears trailing down her cheeks. He brushed his thumb across her skin, wiping them away. “Ma ane banal aron Evanuris! Ma ane a tundra ina’lan’ehn sal. Ma ane soun, lathal. Vhenan, ma sulrahn esh’an ju fullio hartha!”  

“Thu?” She whispered softly, leaning into his touch seeking assurance. “Thu elana ma ea nadas?”  

He wiped the remaining tears from her eyes, then pulled her close to him feeling her hand rest on his chest. “Esh’an tel din eolasa lath aron ma. Ma sul’ema enlea irassal ma dara. Su ga, sulema las.”  

Amanatha lifted her head up, her eyes searching his intently before she graced him with a weak smile. “How do you do that?” He tilted his head at her question. “How do you know exactly what to say?”  

“I do not always know what to say, Vhenan. But know that I speak from the heart when I say that you are perfect and beautiful as you are.” He stated simply.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Outside the tent, Cole wore a smile on his face. He could sense the tangles of the Inquisitor’s hurt disappearing. He turned his head slightly as Varric stood beside them. “It’s alright Varric. She is feeling better.” The spirit reassured the dwarf. Varric glanced between the tent and the spirit before patting the kid’s shoulder and ushering him back to the group so they could leave the two elves in peace. The rest of the Inquisition soldiers soon began putting out their camp fires and retired to their tents. Blackwall and the other Wardens remained on guard as the moon rose high up in the sky. Dalkan leaned against the wall on one of the ramparts, his mind wandering fondly through the memories of his own adventures. He glanced down at the tents below and smiled crookedly. “Maker watch over you, Inquisitor.” 

As morning rolled over the fortress several hours later, the Inquisitor and the rest of her Inquisition watched and bid farewell to the Grey Wardens as the force made their way north to Minrathous. Varric was giving Fenris and Anara a final farewell too, promising them that he would write to the two of them and Riordan soon. Amanatha stood beside the dwarf while the lyrium warrior and the Champion of Kirkwall trailed after their charges. She glanced down at Varric and patted his shoulder sympathetically. “You’ll see them again.” She stated matter-of-fact as she smirked. “I’m certain Riordan is dying for Uncle Varric to see his new niece and nephews.” 

Varric gawked at the Dalish woman but threw his head back in laughter and swatted her arm playfully. “Yeah, you’re right Spitfire.” He said then muttered softly. “And thanks.” 

Chapter Text

The Inquisition’s forces had returned to Skyhold a few weeks after dealing with the Grey Wardens in Adamant and were busy sending out scouts to gather more information on Corypheus’ whereabouts. Amanatha had just finished her meeting with Josephine and Leliana. They needed to inform Empress Celene of the dangers and quickly, however the Antivian ambassador had been unsuccessful. Either her letters were being intercepted, or the Empress is aware of the danger and is being watched. Oddly enough, the Empress of Orelais had sent the Inquisitor an invitation to the Winter Palace for their Winter Ball. Unfortunately, the ball was not going to occur for another three months and the Inquisitor also did not have a proper gown for the occasion either. She also had to deal with Erimond soon too. Right now, however, she was needed by her commander. She knocked on the door and waited. Upon hearing Cullen reply, she wandered inside. 

She noticed her commander was hunched over his desk, a look of pain on his face as he rubbed his temple with one hand while the other held several papers. His eyes glimpsed up at the Inquisitor and he immediately put on a neutral expression. “Oh, Inquisitor. Good. You received my letter.”  

“I did, but are you alright?” 

“Never mind that,” He brushed off her concern with a smile though she wasn’t fooled. “I’ve found where the red templars come from. Therinfal Redoubt. The knights were red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over after their corruption was complete.”  

Amanatha tilted her head curiously. “How exactly do you know this Samson?” 

“He was a Templar back in Kirkwall before he was expelled from the Order. He and I shared quarters together. I knew he was an addict... but Red lyrium? It’s nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry. Its power comes with a terrible madness.” 

The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough, not to the mention the trouble . Amanatha thought rubbing her chin. Then she recalled something. “I noticed Samson’s armor was glowing with the stuff. Do you think he’ll go mad soon enough?” 

“He seemed clear-eyed at Haven. Even so, a deluded commander is no less worrisome.” Cullen pointed out and the Inquisitor shrugged stating it was wishful thinking. This earned a little chuckle from the Commander. “Anyway, like normal templars, the Red Templars still require lyrium. If we can find their source then we can cripple them and their leader.” 

Amanatha noted the heated hiss at the end of Cullen’s sentence. Does he hate Corypheus more or this Samson fellow? She wondered then decided to add a little mirth to the tension. “I like finding the Red Templars vulnerabilities before having to fight them. We’ll need every advantage against them. I assume you have an inkling of how to deal with them?” 

“Indeed, I do.” Cullen confirmed, “Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it’s being mined. If you confront them, be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out for you.” 

With her business with the Commander concluded, Amanatha made her way down the stairs from the battlements down towards the stables. She smiled brightly as Thestral popped his head out his stall and growled happily at her. She nodded at Dennet as she led the dracolisk out of his stall and brought the animal into a makeshift paddock near the tavern and infirmary where she began to groom her companion. She was gliding a soft brush along Thestral’s scales, enjoying the calm morning, listening to the birds sing in the empty courtyard. Thestral turned his head to gaze fondly at her and purred softly, wanting chin scratches to which the elf happily obliged. She was currently cleaning and sharpening the dracolisk’s clawed feet when she heard a sharp voice coming from the stairs leading from the main castle. 

“No!” 

That was Solas’ voice. 

“But you like demons!” 

And Cole’s? 

“I enjoy the company of spirits, yes, which is why I do not abuse them with bindings!” Solas sounded irritated. 

Cole spoke once more sounding frantic. “But it’s not abuse if I ask!” 

“Not always true.” The mage countered. “Also, I do not practice blood magic, which renders this conversation academic.” 

The Inquisitor wasn’t sure what was going on but opted to speak with them both once she finished Thestral’s grooming. She clicked her tongue and had the animal lower his back foot and rose up with a soft grunt. She let out a startled yelp when Cole suddenly appeared on the dracolisk’s back and she nearly lost her balance had Thestral not turned his head and lightly grabbed her scarf with his teeth. “Cole!”  

“He won’t bind me!” Cole whined. “He’s a mage and he likes demons but he won’t help!” 

Thestral growled and snapped his teeth at the spirit as he dropped down from his back. Amanatha rested a hand on the dracolisk’s neck as she stared wide-eyed at the spirit. “Why would you want Solas to bind you?” She inquired finding the spirit’s request strangely bizarre. Most spirits and demons loathed being bound to anything or anyone. To hear Cole, a spirit who didn’t like to be tethered, practically begging to be bond was a bit unsettling but when he stated that he just wanted to be safe, Amanatha felt her shock wear off and a look of sympathy fell on her face. The spirit whimpered and paced back and forth between the Inquisitor and the apostate like a lost child. He was still being tormented by the aftermath of Adamant. He turned towards the Inquisitor, his head hanging low, almost as if he was ashamed. 

“I’m not me anymore!” He bit his lower lip. “Walls around what I want, blocking, bleeding, making me a monster.” 

Amanatha glanced at Solas then back at the spirit. “Cole, isn’t it a bit extreme what you’re asking? You’re asking Solas to bind you. What if that takes away the part of you that makes you… you?” 

“Helping makes me who I am. I help the hurting. That is what I do, all I do, am, me!” Cole snapped, his body trembling as he spoke. “I won’t become that thing too!” 

Just as the woman was about to counter Cole’s argument, Solas chimed in, his tone firm but full of concern. “And if binding you erases your mind? Your consciousness?” 

“You wouldn’t make me hurt innocent people.” The spirit nearly cried out, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to hurt innocent people again.”  

Thestral snorted softly gently nudging the young man with his snout, trying to soothe his distress. Cole wasn’t sure what the animal wanted but the dracolisk lightly gripped the spirit’s sleeve and gently pulled him closer to him. Thestral then had Cole’s hand rest on his scaly shoulder, moving his head slightly from side to side, silently instructing the spirit to pet him. Cole obliged, tentatively. While the spirit was incapacitated, Amanatha lifted her eyes at Solas. “There has to be some middle ground between do nothing and bind Cole with blood magic .” She stated before resting her chin on the back of her palm. “Weren’t you mentioning the other day about amulets that were used to help spirits, Solas?” 

“You are correct.” Solas answered thoughtfully. “I recall stories of amulets used by Rivaini seers to protect spirits they summoned from rival mages. A spirit wearing an Amulet of the Unbound was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect Cole as well. The resources of the Inquisition could be used to find such a talisman.” 

“Or the dignitary who’s coming to visit in the next few hours might have one on hand.” Amanatha smiled slightly. She turned towards Cole as he grumbled appreciatively under his breath and wandered off back to the tavern. The woman than exhaled sharply. “It felt like we were dealing with a moody teenager for a second.” 

“He’s a spirit, Inquisitor. Not a child.” Solas reminded her as she turned her attention back to grooming the dracolisk. 

Amanatha rolled her eyes. “I am very well aware of that Solas. However, the way you two were speaking earlier sounded a lot like a father reprimanding a son.” 

Solas gawked at her, a word of protest threating to spill forth but as he replayed the event in his head once more, he could easily see how she came to that conclusion. He then shook his head, his lips threatening to curl into a crooked smile, but he stubbornly held that down. Damn it, she’s right. It did look like that . He held his hands behind his back, turned on his heel and returned to his little dwelling, ignoring the chortling of the Inquisitor and the amused nickering of the dracolisk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha waved farewell after her visit with the Rivaini dignitary, a small box in her hand. Not only was the ambassador willing to share some interesting findings about the Venatori movements, but they did indeed, have an Amulet of the Unbound in their inventory. The dignitary was originally from Nevarra. Particularly near a necropolis of all places. Amanatha made a mental note to send a letter of gratitude to them. However, at the present moment, Cole was in need of her aid more. She clenched the box tightly and made her way to the tavern. It was noisy as ever. The bard was singing, Bull and his Chargers were busy drinking with each other and Sera was on the second level causing mischief. The Inquisitor strolled up the stairs to the third story and looked around. She spotted a corner with boxes where Cole was currently sitting silently on top of one of them and slowly made her way over towards the spirit. 

“We were in luck, Little Brother.” Amanatha smiled as the spirit hopped down from his crate. “The dignitary did indeed have the amulet that Solas told us about. Would you like to try it on?” 

Cole’s eyes widen in excitement, and he nodded his head. “Yes! But not here. I like it here. We need someplace that can go away if it becomes sharp.” 

Solas was sitting at his desk, writing some more notes on the strange keys they had found on the Storm Coast as well as in the Western Approach when he heard Cole and the Inquisitor stroll in. Cole was trying to peek over Amanatha’s shoulder as she fiddled with the box containing the amulet. He quickly got up and with a quick stride approached the pair. He was surprised that the dignitary actually had an amulet on hand. He cleared his throat, extending his hand towards her in a silent request. She handed him the box and the mage carefully opened it, quietly admiring the beautiful silver piece with opaque moonstones embedded in the metal. “What do I do with it?” Cole asked curiously as the mage returned to his desk and removed a long thin steel chain then slid it through an opening on the amulet. 

“It is simple enough.” Solas began as he returned to the spirit watching as he removed his hat and allowed the mage to drape the jewelry around his neck. “You put it on, I charge it with magic, and you should be protected.” 

Amanatha rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Are you ready, Cole?” 

Cole nodded his head firmly. “They can’t make me a monster.” 

Solas motioned for the Inquisitor to move aside, and he held out a palm. Pale blue, tranquil looking wisps of magic danced from his fingertips and latched on to the amulet. All seemed to be going well when then there a was sudden pop and Cole let out a yell of pain. He stumbled, but Amanatha caught him quickly, her eyes widening in shock and concern. Before she could inquire what had just happened, Varric came running in to the room upon hearing the sound and looked around in confusion. When he saw Amanatha helping Cole steady himself and Solas was rubbing his wrists in bafflement, the dwarf let out an exasperated sigh. “For the... what are you two doing to the poor kid?” 

“Stopping blood mages from binding me like the demons at Adamant. But it didn’t work.” The spirit answered, shaking his head slightly as though he were dizzy. 

Amanatha glanced at Solas, the question already dancing on her lips, but the mage answered it swiftly. “Something is interfering with the enchantment.” 

“Something like Cole not being a demon?” Varric huffed, folding his arms over his chest. 

Amanatha slightly frowned but took a small breath. “Varric, Cole may look like us, but he is not. Remember, he’s not human.” 

“Neither am I, Spitfire.” Varric pointed out then gestured towards Solas and the Inquisitor. “Neither are you two, for that matter.” 

Solas exhaled sharply through his nose. He informed them that regardless of what Cole’s unique attributes and special circumstances are, the young man was still a spirit. The dwarf, however, was inclined to disagree. While the two men argued, Amanatha noticed Cole getting frantic again and the poor thing started pacing anxiously. “ I don’t matter!” Cried the spirit as he pointed at Solas urgently. “Just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow.” 

Amanatha then had an idea. “Cole, can you focus on the amulet?” He tilted his head at her. “Trust me. Just focus on the amulet. Tells us what you feel, please.” 

Cole lifted the pendant into his hand, then he lowered his head and closed his eyes. He clenched the amulet tightly as a wave of emotions washed over him and he spoke softly. “Warm, soft blanket covering, but it catches, tears, I’m the wrong shape, there’s something…” He lifted his free hand, walking over towards one of the maps laying on Solas’ table and pointed at Redcliffe. “There... It's there.” 

“We’ll find whatever it is preventing the amulet from working and make it right, Cole. I promise.”  

Cole turned his head to look at the three of them. When he asked if they would come with him, all three of them offered the spirit a smile confirming that they would travel with him. The Spirit of Compassion nodded his head a little before departing from the room. Once he was gone, Varric turned his attention back to the two elves. Keeping his voice low, he approached them and frowned. “All right. I get it. You two like spirits. But he came into this world to be a person. Let him be one.” 

Amanatha shook her head. “Cole is a spirit. He has magical abilities and magical vulnerabilities. We cannot ignore that. I don’t want to risk him getting hurt either.” 

The dwarf sighed. “Fair enough, Spitfire. But that ritual only works on demons, right?” 

“This is not some fanciful story, child of the Stone.” Solas folded his arms over his chest adamantly. “We cannot change our nature by wishing.” Varric and Amanatha glanced at Solas with skeptical expressions before he continued. “However we deal with this problem, our next step is to track down whatever is interfering with the enchantment.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha, Solas, Cole and Varric soon arrived to Redcliffe later that afternoon. The town was surprisingly quiet and most of the shops were closed for the day. The only thing the group could hear was the gentle creaking of ships in the port and the waves lapping at the stone docks. They were halfway up the stone stairway leading to the Gull and Lantern Inn when they spotted two figures standing in front of the great stone gryphon in the center of the square. It looked to be a human male talking with a dwarf. Amanatha strained to listen to the conversation but failed to catch anything useful. However, they were soon spotted by the gentleman who bade his companion a brief farewell and slowly approached the group. He greeted them politely and was about to inquire if he could be of any assistance when Cole’s face contorted in recognition, and he growled darkly. 

“You!” The spirit snarled as he suddenly appeared before the man and grabbed his throat angrily. “You killed me!” 

The man stared wide-eyed at Cole, clenching the young man’s grip so that he could still draw breath. “What, I don’t… I don’t even know you!” 

This just escalated quickly ! Amanatha thought as she and the others rushed over to the two. “Cole!” 

The spirit did not listen. He just continued to glare daggers at the man. “You forgot. You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot, and I died in the dark!” 

“The... Spire?” 

“Cole!” Solas commanded urgently. “Stop this!” 

The man broke free and made a run for to the temple. Varric huffed as he panted and stood next the kid, his run leaving him slightly winded. “Chuckles is right, kid. Take it easy.” 

Cole violently trembled pacing back and forth, one hand on his head and the other pointing in the direction the stranger bolted. “He killed me. He killed me. That’s why it doesn’t work. He killed me, and I have to kill him back!” 

That can’t be possible. Amanatha thought to herself before turning her head towards Solas. He was inclined to agree with the Inquisitor’s thoughts. His gaze was locked onto the spirit, and he calmly reminded the spirit that the man earlier could not have killed him for Cole had not even possessed a body. The spirit trembled once more, wrapping his arms around himself, shivering. Whimpering. The Inquisitor could tell that the spirit was more than agitated, more than stressed. Something clearly didn’t make sense. Then the spirit spoke.  

“A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank, a captured apostate. They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He starved to death. I came through to help… and I couldn’t.” Cole whispered, a look of despair in his eyes. He could still see that poor boy looking up at him, reaching for his hand because he didn’t want to be alone. Then he slipped away, leaving the Spirit of Compassion shattered. “So, I became him. Cole.” 

Then everything clicked into place. Solas and Amanatha stared at Cole in shock. “If the real Cole was an apostate then that makes the guy we just saw a Templar.” Varric voiced what they were thinking. That means that when Cole chose this form after the original died, he absorbed some of the fallen apostate’s memories. Amanatha theorized but felt her heart ache. From what she remembered Spirits of Compassion were uncommon and incredibly fragile spirits. When the spirit failed to help the apostate, he, in a sense, became Cole. 

“We cannot allow Cole to kill him.” Solas stated firmly. 

Varric nodded. “No one was suggesting that, Chuckles, but the kid’s angry. He needs to work through it.” 

“Cole is a spirit .” Solas insisted. “The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” 

“Come on, Solas! You don’t just forgive someone for killing you!” 

“Spirits can.” 

“But he isn’t a spirit, is he?” Varric pointed out. “He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person.” 

Amanatha was also starting to feel a bubble of rage within her despite feeling rather calm. Her brow crinkled in annoyance as she had to push the two apart as she sensed that it was clear the apostate and the dwarf were about to throw punches. She glared fiercely at both of the men, stating that their differing opinions were doing nothing to help Cole who was already on the verge of tearing himself apart on getting revenge. She pulled the spirit aside and instructed him to sit down under the quiet shade of a tree for a moment while she finished deciding what needed to be done. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in the process. 

“I understand both your concerns. I do and you both have good points.” Amanatha stated between the two of them. “However, Varric, I do agree with Solas on this. Cole was originally a spirit and right now he’s tearing himself apart. I see it in his eyes. The one who wants revenge is the sliver of the real Cole within him and its warring with the Spirit of Compassion that he is. He cannot lose that part of himself. He needs to let this go. Not just to heal himself, but to grow more as a spirit.” She glanced at Solas and gave him a nod. “ Hallani hon, Solas.” The mage bowed his head and quietly walked over towards the spirit then knelt down and offered Cole his hand. 

“Cole?” He said gently, the spirit looking up at him. “Come with me.” 

Cole took his hand and allowed the mage to lead the way. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The man suddenly came to a stop towards the edge of a cliff just several feet away from the Chantry. He let out a shocked gasp when Cole emerged from a strange mist. The man shook his head in disbelief. He tried to retreat back the way he came only to yell out in surprise when Solas blocked his path and held his hands behind his back. Seeing that he had no way out, the man fell to his knees in defeat. “Not possible. It’s just not possible.” He whimpered as he turned back around to face the spirit. Solas frowned slightly but after a brief moment of silence, relaxed and strolled over to the pair. He motioned for the spirit to focus on the man, to feel his pain. Cole lowered his gaze back to the man who quaked in fear before him. The spirit glared at him. 

“He remembers now.” Cole hissed venomously. “He knows he killed me.” 

Solas shook his head softly. “No, Cole. Feel his pain. His guilt. The shame that drove him from the Templars.” 

Cole narrowed his eyes at the elf but returned his gaze back to the shaking man before him. He stared long and hard into his eyes, then he closed his own as he felt a wave of anxiety and worry wash over him. “ Don’t worry, we’ll erase his records. They clap me on the shoulder, smell of oiled metal and blood. They smile like Louis did when he made me drown the kittens. Laughter bounces off the walls like a thin child’s fists.” He opened his eyes, watching as the man had tears falling like rivers from his eyes. 

“I’m sorry...” He whispered. “I’m so sorry...” 

Solas felt his heart ache slightly before he turned his head back to the spirit. “He’s hurting, Cole and you are a Spirit of Compassion.” 

Cole glanced between the elf and the Templar. He felt the man’s pain. He walked over to him and place a cool hand upon the man’s brow. He could finish him off. Right here. Right now. But he couldn’t leave the man like this. He could feel and see all the turmoil he was under. The memory that still haunted him. The Templar never wanted the real Cole to die. He never meant for it to happen. The Spirit closed his eyes, and a flash of white mist danced before the Templar’s eyes. “We forgive you... now... Forget...” Cole whispered. After a few seconds, the man rose up from the ground, dazed and confused but staggers off holding his head as he recollected his thoughts but he seemed to be happier. 

Solas smiled proudly as he stood beside the Spirit. “I believe we are finished here.” He draped an arm around Cole’s shoulder and the two slowly made their way back to the Inquisitor and Varric. 

The dwarf jogged over to the kid with concern while Amanatha glanced at Solas who smiled and nodded his head reassuringly. Cole was free. The real Cole and the Templar. The spirit’s amulet began to glow with a tranquil blue light from before and the spirit smiled in relief. “Come on, let’s go home.” Amanatha said as the four returned to Skyhold. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“It’s good to see the amulet working.” The Inquisitor said as she sat on the couch, going over another book about Knight Enchanters. 

Solas wiped his brow as he finished another section of plaster and he hummed in agreement, feeling a sense of peace washing over him. “Yes. Cole will be protected now.” 

“Have you two heard the kid lately?” The two elves turned their heads to see Varric strolling in, looking worried once more. “Have you two talked with him?” 

Amanatha closed her book and smiled. “Yes. He sounds like a spirit again.”  

She watched the apostate set his paints down and wander over to his desk, taking a drink of water from the glass on his desk. He hardly batted an eye when Cole suddenly appeared on his desk glancing at Varric. “Nonsense words, like Bartrand at the end. Just need to hear the song again. Just for a minute. I’m all right, Varric. I am well. There is work, wounded to help, hurts to heal, but the weight is off. The old chains have fallen.” The spirit reassured and when Varric inquired if the boy was still mad at the mad who had killed him, Cole shook his head, a soft smile on his face. He had helped the Templar forgive and forget. In turn, that set the sliver of the real Cole he held within him free as well. He disappeared once more as he sensed more hurts around him and went to work. 

Varric sighed. “He could have been a person.” 

“Possibly.” Said the apostate before he countered with a question of his own. “Would that have made him happier, child of the Stone?” 

Varric looked like he wanted to snap at the mage when Amanatha suddenly spoke up and the two turned their heads towards her. “I recall a similar conversation Solas shared with me in Haven. Are we defined by what we look like? Solas and I with our pointed ears? You with your chest hair or Cassandra by her cheekbones?” She questioned aloud before she saw the gears seemingly turning in the dwarf’s head. “No. We are defined by are actions, our personalities. Solas, by his wisdom. You by your wit and Cassandra by her faith. Cole is defined by his compassion. True, spirits do not have a physical form, and the chantry says that they are not truly people, but yet they exist. Things to think about.”  

Varric felt his lips twitch into a smile. “So, you’re saying that it’s a matter of perspective?” He received a grin and wink from the woman. 

Chapter Text

Amanatha sighed as she finished sifting through the reports handed to her from Cullen and Leliana. She shook her head at the results as she walked with a slight limp through the main hall. While they managed to uproot most of the Red Templars throughout the Western Approach and the Hinterlands, they still had yet to find out where they were being created. Then there was the incident that occurred when Amanatha and her team dealt with lyrium smugglers near the Exalted Plains. She had gotten her leg seriously injured from a dagger and upon returning to Skyhold, learned from Cullen that Solas had gotten injured as well. At first, she thought it was from one of Sera’s pranks but dismissed that thought because the city elf was with her along with Cassandra and Blackwall. When she questioned the hedge mage about his injury, he was just as clueless as she was. He had been wandering around the garden for a change of scenery when he suddenly felt a sharp pain slash across his shin and the next thing he knew, he saw was blood pouring from the wound. But what was really baffling was the fact that his wound was exactly like the Inquisitor’s wound. It was in the same spot as her own wound. Stranger still, the two elves swore they knew what the other was thinking and feeling, yet they couldn’t understand why or how for that matter. Solas opted to ask any spirits in the Fade if they had any ideas, but Amanatha ordered him to be on bed rest until the wound healed fully. Just to be safe. He wasn’t happy but heeded her request.  

She was just finishing up reading a letter from Felix when she nearly ran into Mother Gisselle. The elf bowed her head in apology before the Chantry mother waved her hand serenely. It had been some time since she had spoken with the reverend mother but it was always a welcome distraction. “Ah, Mother Gisselle. What can I do for you?”  

“My Lady Inquisitor, it’s good of you to speak with me. I have news regarding one of your… companions. The Tevinter.”  

Amanatha couldn’t help but let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell me Sera roped him into pranking someone around the castle again...”  

Mother Gisselle shook her head, a little chuckle leaving her throat. “No, thankfully. It’s nothing like that, though I do understand your concern on their mischief.” Her eyes than creased slightly. “I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qarinus. Are you familiar with them?”  

“He’s mentioned his family. They don’t appear to be on good terms.” Amanatha nodded recalling the conversation she had with Dorian when they had escaped from Redcliffe after dealing with Alexius. She knew things were complicated with the Tevinter and his family. She was able to garner a few guesses as to what that was, however, she was a bit fuzzy on the details. She gestured for Mother Gisselle to continue only to be handed a piece of parchment.  

Your Reverence, 
ㅤㅤ ㅤ 
I understand that you feel inadequate to the task of bringing Dorian to a secret meeting. Even in the asking, I find it difficult to believe myself. Considering my son has rebuffed all contact, this is the only way. I know him; he would be too proud to come if he knew—even just to talk. That is all we wish to do. The thought of Dorian in the south, placing himself in the path of such danger, alarms us more than I can express. 
ㅤㅤ ㅤ 
If this somehow succeeds, we have a family retainer at the Vandral Hills watching for Dorian’s arrival. He will bring the boy to us, somewhere private. If Dorian utterly refuses to go with him, it ends there… and there is nothing we can do. We are at our wit’s end. 
ㅤㅤ ㅤ 
Graciously yours, 
Magister Halward of House Pavus 

Amanatha frowned before lifting her head up from the letter.  

“The family sent this letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid. They’ve asked to arrange a meeting. Quietly, without telling him. They fear it’s the only way he’ll come. Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man, I’d hoped…” Mother Gisselle trailed off hoping the elf woman would pick up on what she was implying. Amanatha, unfortunately, did catch on. The old woman was hoping the Inquisitor would try and trick Dorian into going to the meeting. Amanatha frowned. She wasn’t going to do that to a friend; however, she did inform Mother Gisselle that she would at least inform Dorian. The Chantry mother bowed her head gratefully then slowly departed for the gardens for. The Dalish woman made her way up the stairs winding around the rotunda until she came to the library landing. She walked past Fiona who was going over some ancient texts alongside Alexius. Ever since the Magister had been sentenced to serve the Inquisition, he seemed to be doing better. He was even excited to read the letter from his son to the point where he couldn’t stop thanking her for everything.  

She circled around the library in search of Dorian then walked up to the young Tenviter, whose back was turned to her and she was just about to speak to Dorian when she had to duck to avoid having a book being thrown at her. “You have remarkably little here on early Tevinter history. All these gifts to the Inquisition, and the best they can do is the Malefica Imperio? Trite propaganda. But if you want twenty volumes on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, this is evidently the place to find it.” The young Tevinter hissed in disappointment as he held another book, scanned the cover then shook his head and tossed it behind him as Amanatha gasped leaning over the railing and heard Solas give out a yell of surprise as the tome landed on his desk. The elf looked up, glaring at her. She shook her head and pointed at Dorian who continued to grumble and toss books around. Solas huffed before retiring to his quarters to get some rest.  

“That’s the Dorian I know. Critiquing everything in my library.” Joked the Inquisitor who huffed, catching another book.  

“Did I see something from Genitivi?” The human grumbled, “I could have sworn...”  

Amanatha dropped the book next to him, causing him to jump. “Dorian, what is this about?”  

“What else could it be about? What happened at Adamant, of course. We went into the Fade.  Physically went in !” He snapped running his hand through his hair frantically. “Then we faced an ancient Fear Demon that you managed to turn to stone ! How did you even do that?”  

Amanatha held her arm. “I honestly don’t know how. It was just an instinct. It’s common for mages to pull off spells like that when they react on instinct instead of training... Isn’t it?”  

Dorian frowned slightly. Petrification was not a spell common among any mage, be they human or not. However, his gaze softened slightly as she looked rather uncomfortable talking about it. She then quickly apologized to him about dragging him along, but he patted her shoulder. When he questioned her on how she was feeling, the elf merely shrugged. It still haunted her, but she was glad that most of the team escaped, and she did regain the stolen memories. A victory, nonetheless. They chatted and bantered a little more until Amanatha questioned Dorian on his progress with Corypheus’ real name. While they got his name, they still knew little about him. The Tevinter sighed shaking his head in disappointment. He didn’t seem to have the right book but informed her that he would keep searching.  

“Before you do, Dorian, there’s a letter you need to see.”  

Dorian spun around, a gleam of mischief in his dark brown eyes. “A letter?” He teased. “Is it a naughty letter?”  

“No.”  

“Is it a humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?” He giggled and Amanatha shook her head, her soft chuckle fading.  

“I wish it was but... no.” She said handing him the parchment. “It’s from your father.”  

The mirth disappeared instantly from Dorian’s face. He brought a hand to his mustache and began to twirl anxiously. “From my father?” She nodded at him and his brow creased further. “I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?” She just nodded at the letter, and he snatched it from her hand. A few short minutes ticked by followed by an uncomfortable silence. Then Dorian began to tremble, gritting his teeth in anger. He clenched the paper tightly, crumpling it in his fist. “ I know my son. What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical! I’m willing to bet this retainer is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter. Come on, we’re going to meet this retainer. If I don’t like what has to say, I want to leave and if they attack, we kill them.”  

The elf hissed when he grabbed her wrist a little too tightly and tugged her along after him. She had Dennet saddle Thestral for her while Dorian mounted a dapple-grey mare. The two rode in painful silence as they descended upon the road leading to Redcliffe. Amanatha narrowed her eyes and finally spoke up. “Dorian, what exactly is this all about?” She inquired calmly. “I mean, I know that there’s bad blood between the two of you but that’s all I know.”  

Dorian laughed bitterly as he turned his head slightly. “An interesting turn of phrase, my dear. But you are correct. You recall me saying that my parents tried to force me into an arranged marriage?” She nodded her head. “Well, that was one of the reasons I left home.”  

“Dorian, I think you should at least hear what the retainer has to say and learn what your family wants.”  

Dorian whipped his head in her direction in anger. “I didn’t ask what you thought , did I?!” The woman froze and Thestral snarled at the man with an angry snort. Dorian cringed, noticing the flash of hurt dance in Amanatha’s eyes. She was only trying to help. “Natha... I... That… was unworthy, I apologize. You’re right, though. There’d be no harm in hearing what this man of my father’s has to say. If I don’t like it, however, I want to leave.”  

The elf nodded and the two galloped forward. They left their mounts near a hitching post next to the building and opened the door. When they entered the tavern, Amanatha was immediately on edge. The building was empty. Not even the tavern owner was around. She kept her hand on the hilt of her daggers as Dorian reached for his staff. Someone was supposed to be here. They waited for a moment then attempted to back out of the building when they heard footsteps descending from the stairs. A man who looked strikingly similar to Dorian emerged from the shadows and held his hands in front of him. “Dorian.” Said the man and her companion growled lowly.  

“Father.” He seethed.  

Amanatha was confused. They were supposed to be meeting a family retainer but instead, they were greeted by Dorian’s father. Clever . She thought, not taking her eyes off the elder mage. He used the retainer as a smokescreen, but I don’t sense anything or smell anyone else with him. He came alone . She narrowed her eyes as Halward approached the two, apologizing to the Inquisitor for the deception but claimed it was necessary then added that he did not intend to drag the woman into his family affairs. Dorian scoffed. Amanatha glanced at her companion as he shook his head in disgust then she turned her head to Halward. “Dorian is family to me, too, Sir.” She stated simply. “And I don’t blame him for being angry considering you lied to him just to lure him here.”  

Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it my dear. But maybe you should.”  

Halward frowned. “Dorian, there’s no need-”  

“I prefer the company of men.” Dorian stated, folding his arms over his chest. “My father disapproves.”  

Amanatha chuckled. “That explains the adorable exchanges you and Bull have been making lately.”  

“You’re not mad?”  

“Why would I be, Dorian?” She smirked. “Now, if you had a thing for Solas, then I’d have a problem with you.”  

That at least got a chuckle from the young Tevinter. “I’m afraid, my dear, your apostate lacks a certain flair with his outfit. That outfit is absolutely horrendous! Is it a Dalish thing? Or does he just like dressing like a hobo apostate?”  

She shook her head. “I like the way he looks. It feels... homey to me.” Realizing she got off track, she glanced between the father and son. “Back to the matter at hand, who you sleep with is a big concern in Tevinter? And humans say we elves are the strange ones...”  

“Only if you’re trying to live up to an impossible standard.” Dorian clarified. “Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw—every aberration—is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden.”  

Halward tried to reach out to his son. “Dorian, just listen to me.”  

Dorian swatted his father’s hand away from him, a look of pain contorting on his face. “Why?! So, you can spout more convenient lies?” He turned his head towards Amanatha then pointed an accusing finger at the man before them. “ He  taught me to hate blood magic. The resort of the weak mind. Those are his words!” He then glared icily at Halward who turned visibly pale. “But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to change me!”  

“I only wanted what was best for you!” Halward shouted back, taking a step forward but found himself blocked by the elf woman. Dorian shook his head, his eyes glistening with unfallen tears as he backed away.  

“No. You did what was best for you!” The mage choked, “For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!”  

Amanatha turned towards Dorian and rested her hand on his arm, and he stared into her eyes. He got a lot off his chest. The way he was panting told her as much. He wanted to leave, but her eyes were silently suggesting that he try and mend things or he’d regret it. When he shook his head, she nodded her head in understanding. His father never told them why he came, so the two thought it was time to take their leave. They turned to leave through the door when Halward spoke up once more, his voice cracking in the process. “If I had known I would drive you to the Inquisition...”  

Dorian froze and kept his back to the man. “You didn’t. I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do. Once I had a father who would have known that.”  

They were just one step out the door and Halward sighed. “Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed. I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me.”  

This got Dorian to turn his head. He glanced at Amanatha who smiled at the Tevinter. She gestured back towards Halward with her head. He nervously walked into the tavern to chat. She decided to wait for him outside with the mounts. After a few hours, both men exited the tavern and exchanged farewells. Once the Pavus elder disappeared, the two turned their mounts back towards Skyhold. Thestral snorted as he trotted alongside Dorian’s mare while Amanatha looked around, keeping vigil. Another hour ticked by of silence and soon the Tevinter cleared his throat. Amanatha turned her head towards him.  

“He says we’re alike. Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that.” He said with a sad chuckle before clenching the reins tightly. “Now I’m not certain. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”   

“Why did he try to change you exactly?” She inquired gently. “If you don’t mind me asking?”  

Dorian shrugged his shoulders. “Out of desperation. I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory private and locked away. Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside. He was going to do a blood ritual. Alter my mind. Make me… acceptable. I found out. I left.” He shuddered softly. “It could have left me a drooling vegetable. It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal. Part of me has always hoped he didn’t really want to go through with it. If he had… I can’t even imagine the person I would be now. I wouldn’t like that Dorian.”  

She rested hand on his shoulder, her question laying in her eyes, but the mage shook his head. “Forgiveness takes time, Dorian.” She said sagely before pulling her hand away.  

“Thank you, Amanatha.” He replied gratefully. “For bringing me out there. It wasn’t what I was expecting but it was something.”  

Silence fell once more. Then Amanatha spoke up. “For what it’s worth, Dorian... I think you’re very brave.”  

The human stared at her quizzically. “Brave? Me?”  

“It's not easy to break from tradition.”  

He smiled at her. “You’re a remarkable woman, Inquisitor. I mean that in the best way. In another life... perhaps I should cease these flirtatious banters.”  

“Dorian Pavus if you insist on desisting with our flirtatious banter, I shall make you wear the same apostate robes as Solas.” She smirked deviously. “And you will be bare-footed.”  

Dorian gave her an exaggerated gasp of horror. “Oh, my dearest, you are a wicked little elf!” The two friends laughed happily before stopping to rest by a small pond to let their mounts drink. “You certainly are like the little sister I’ve always wanted, Natha. I mean that.”  

“Now don’t get all syrupy on me, Dorian.” The Inquisitor hummed, gently swatting the Tevinter’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get back to Skyhold. It’s been one hell of a day and we could both use a drink. Just so you know, I’m not carrying you back to your quarters.”   

Chapter Text

Solas entered Wisdom’s study later that evening before the Inquisitor returned from Redcliffe. He felt guilty for disobeying her request, but his thirst for discovering the strange connection he shared with Amanatha was too strong. He glanced around as the Fade morphed into a familiar library scene. He saw Wisdom shelving some books on to a bookcase when she turned her head towards him and smiled at him. “Solas! To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked as she descended from the ladder and strolled over to the apostate. Her smile then faltered slightly when she noticed her friend’s worried expression. “Solas, what’s wrong with you?”  

“I was hoping you could tell me.” He said as he sat down at a table.  

The spirit briskly approached him and lifted his face in both her hands with a motherly touch. She listened to his worries, what had transpired during and after Adamant. She made a series of small hums, and an occasion click of her tongue but after a few minutes, she pulled away from the mage and folded her arms. Physically, Solas looked fine, but she swore she noticed something off. The mage waited quietly for his friend to finish her assessment when she finally snatched his right wrist. Startled by the sudden movement of his friend, Solas instinctively tried to pry his hand free only to stop when he spotted a faint silver gleam, like a bracelet seared into his flesh. His eyes widened as did Wisdom’s. “You’ve been bound.” She whispered as she lifted a delicate hand, and a thin thread glittered between her fingertips. “Soul-Bound to be exact... but this color indicates that it’s a Pristine bond.”  

“Aren’t those rare?”  

“Incredibly so.” Wisdom nodded as she gave the string a slight pull. “And you said Amanatha has been experiencing the same symptoms?”  

Solas cringed inwardly. “I admit we have only been able to sense each other’s thoughts so far as I know. Then she was injured while I still remained in Skyhold and I too received the same injury.” He then added a little too smugly. “Unlike the Inquisitor, I do know how to avoid getting injured.”  

“Except when you managed to get yourself captured by bandits mistaking you for the Inquisitor.”  

The mage groaned, not really wanting to relive that memory. He then let out a gasp when Wisdom tugged on thread once more and he felt a wave of panic wash over him. Immediately, he felt a surge of confusion followed by a brief twinged of fear. Amanatha must have felt the tug and started to panic. He focused on the thread, willing a calming aura to travel through the connection and after a moment, felt the Inquisitor’s anxiety disappear. After a few more moments, Solas redirected his attention back to Wisdom. He had so many questions but the one that took priority in his mind was... how? How did he get Soul-Bound to the Inquisitor? As Wisdom explained the bindings properties and how this particular binding would usually come to fruition, the mage struggled to keep his emotions in check. The ritual used on them required a sample of blood from both him and Amanatha. But that couldn’t be possible unless they willing offered their blood or had it forcefully taken.  

“Did you and Amanatha have a battle where both of you got hurt?”  

The question hardly had a short list. He and the Inquisitor have had many battles together. When Wisdom inquired about any travelers that had offered to aid the two, Solas felt his blood turn to ice. Come to think of it, when he and Amanatha left the Emerald Graves to meet up with Hawke and the others, the two elves did encounter someone. Two, in fact. The traveling Orelisan and Fereldan! They had tended to the elves’ injuries, and they were the only ones who had a sample of their blood! Seeing the horrified expression on her friend’s face, Wisdom frowned in sympathy for she still had more news to share. “I know that look, Wisdom.” Solas noted as he rubbed his temple. “There’s more to it, is there not?”  

Wisdom nodded her head gravely. “I’m afraid so, my friend. This particular binding has a fatal consequence. You both are linked in a way that if one of you dies, both of you perish. If one of you receives a fatal blow in battle, both will fall.” She explained. “The only few good things about this binding are that you both can sense each other’s pain and pleasure. You can help ease each other in a way that few ever get to experience.”  

Solas unfortunately, did not seem to share her sentiment. Not entirely anyway. He did secretly enjoy knowing that Amanatha could pick up on his emotions and as always find ways to ease his worries, but he was more concerned about the lethality of their predicament. He was more than certain that she was starting to figure out the link but if she were to discover the dangers, he feared that her advisors would try to find every possible way to keep her confined and out of harm's way. He chuckled weakly. He knew that she would more than riot. Or, like the spitfire she was, blatantly disregard his and their warnings. He glanced up at Wisdom. “Is there a way to sever the connection? If not entirely, then perhaps remove the fatalistic properties?”  

“There might be a way, but you won’t like it...” She replied solemnly. “Do you recall Elgar’nan’s relics in the north? Specifically, his pool of vitality?”  

“Unfortunately...”  

Wisdom closed her eyes. “The pool has properties that can remove the negative aspects of the binding or if you wish, you can fully remove it there. The only problem you’d have to deal with aside from the obvious perils, is convincing Amanatha that you need to leave.”  

“If it means keeping her safe, then that appears to be my only option.” He sighed as he stood up.  

“Or you can just speak with her and talk with your companions about looking for another solution?” Wisdom suggested with a small chuckle.  

Just as she was about to continue speaking, the area around began to shudder and distort. The spirit gave out a pained groan as though something or someone had struck it. He tried to reach for her, but she was suddenly yanked from the Fade, a scream tearing from her throat as she cried out for help. The cry of pain struck him to his core as he heard her shout where she was. He heard her voice like a faint whisper as she cried out. “Hallani!”  

Solas shot up from his sleep, drenched in cold sweat hand over his heart and the other holding his head.  

~~~~~~~~~~~  

Amanatha slowly steeped her iced tea, staring blanking into the pale pink drink, hands shaking. She had a terrible nightmare the night before and needed to soothe her nerves. She poured herself a glass of the tea then decided to pour another cup for Solas. She set the empty pitcher into a washtub and carried the drinks to the rotunda. She shifted one of the drinks carefully into her other hand and opened the door. She found the mage leaning back tiredly against his chair, a cup of tea in his hands. From the smell of it, she deduced it was an oolong. Not the best tea in her opinion. She watched as he took a long sip, only to make a grimace followed by a near silent gag as he set the cup down and shook his head. The woman then set a cup of her own brew in front of him, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin as he was not expecting her to just suddenly appear before him.  

“This probably will help you better.” She said calmly.  

He studied her face with concern. She had bags under her eyes and her skin looked a little pale. Solas swore she was shaking a little as well when she took a seat on the couch. He could only deduce that she did not sleep soundly last night either. Still, he took the cup and drank the iced tea, a soft smile washing over him. “Thank you...” He said as the sweet taste of dragon fruit and hibiscus lingered on his tongue, chasing away the horrid oolong.  

Solas took another sip from his glass, his posture relaxing more and more. Once the cup was finished, he felt Amanatha’s eyes fall on him. “Judging from the dark circles under your eyes and the fact that you are drinking tea nonetheless, I assume you had a restless night as well?”  

He nodded solemnly to her inquiry. “And I may be in need of a favor.”  

“You need only but to ask.”  

“One of my oldest friends has been captured. I am most certain it was mages who have forced it into slavery.” He explained as the woman indulged in her drink, her eyes never leaving him. “I heard the cries for help as I slept.”  

Amanatha frowned slightly. “You mean, you went into the Fade when I had requested that you shouldn’t until you were healed?”  

The mage cringed. Figures she wouldn’t be fooled. “I... Yes.”  

“Haha... I guess I’m not surprised. Stubborn man.” She teased, trying to cheer him up and she caught the hint of a smile. She then set her glass down. “You say mages captured your friend. Am I correct in assuming that this friend is a spirit?”  

“My friend is a Spirit of Wisdom.” He explained, noticing a subtle twitch of her ears. Recognition? “Unlike the spirits clamoring to enter our world through the rifts, she was dwelling quite happily in the Fade.”  

Amanatha frowned once more, a sinking feeling settling in her chest. As Solas stated, unlike certain spirits and demons who wanted to enter this world, there were in fact many that preferred to stay put. Mostly spirits of Wisdom and Sloth demons. If the spirit was summoned against its will, there were two possible outcomes and neither were pleasant for the being. Considering this was a Spirit of Wisdom, the first potential outcome would be that the spirit had knowledge the mages wanted but the spirit was not willing to share it. The second, and the one she was most dreading was that the mages might twist it against its nature. She saw the anxious look on Solas’ face and she smiled. “I’d be happy to help.”  

The worry lines on his face smoothed over as he bowed his head in thanks. He then pointed at the location he sensed his friend on the map and noticed Amanatha almost dropped her glass, a look of horror on her face. The location was in the Exalted Plains, not too far from her mother’s clan. When he was about to question her behavior, the woman simply ordered him to meet her on the battlements. She briskly left the room, exiting the door leading outside. He made sure to have his knapsack and staff on hand when he arrived at the battlements. He spotted briefly what looked to be Thestral galloping over the bridge and into the wilderness below with a saddlebag on his back but no rider. He found the Inquisitor where she said she would be but not as an elf. Instead, she had taken on her draconic form, her head scanning the horizon before her.  

“Thestral will meet us in the Exalted Planes but if we are to save our friend in time, this form will be detriment.” She said lowering her wing in a silent gesture for the mage to climb on.  

Solas didn’t argue as he situated himself on the dragon’s back. She leapt off the battlement, wings spread in full as the wind caught her and she soared through the air. The two elves were silent as Amanatha glided through the clouds with ease. She had to veer to the side when another dragon appeared beside them but after a moment of exchanging chuffs and low growls, it quickly left them alone. Solas was lost in his thoughts, worried about his friend. He hoped they were not too late. He then felt the Inquisitor curl her wings and begin to dive towards the ground. She slowed her descent when the two came across an ancient bath house and she landed with a soft thud. Extending her wing, she allowed the mage to dismount before reverting back to her elvhen form. She drew her bow and glanced at Solas.  

“Thank you for this, Vhenan .” He said gratefully as the two jogged along a beaten path. The sun was high in the sky now, signifying that it was noon. “We aren’t too far from where my friend is located.”  

Amanatha merely kept quiet. She was constantly scanning the plains for danger when they came across a body. From the robes the body wore, the Dalish woman was able to confirm the poor sod was a mage and judging from the arrows protruding from his back, killed by an archer. When Amanatha removed the arrow, she sighed in both relief and annoyance. She was relieved that the arrow was not of Dalish make, which meant that her mother’s clan wasn’t responsible however the arrow was crudely made and that told her that the assailant was a bandit or possibly a group of bandits. They pressed on until they came across more bodies. However, unlike the body from earlier, these bodies looked to be bandits. Also, unlike the dead mage’s body, these bodies had claw marks raked across them along with burn marks from lightning. “These aren’t mages... and these wounds...” Solas noted then felt the blood drain from his face. “No. No, no, no!”  

He sprinted forward along the trail with the Inquisitor behind her. They heard a series of growl like screeches and as they rounded a large stone spire, the sight before them made their hearts sink. Sealed within a circle of four spire-like seals, was a demon. At first appearance, it looked to be a pride demon but as they drew nearer, they saw that it also looked like an owl albeit corrupted. It had black feathers that fell like oil to the ground, pooling-like blood beneath it. It had crippled, tattered wings that twitched frow pain. Its face was more akin to a pride demon’s appearance though. Amanatha could hardly suppress the gasp leaving her throat while Solas covered his mouth in horror.  

“My friend!” He managed to choke. “Oh, my friend”  

“They corrupted her...” Amanatha exclaimed quietly, still in shock. “The mages corrupted her... but she’s a Spirit of Wisdom! How?!”  

Solas glanced at her, startled at the pain on her face. “A spirit becomes a demon when it is denied its original purpose... I take it my friend was yours as well?”  

“I often called her mamae after Mienassan abandoned me more or less.” She nodded sadly then she gritted her teeth slightly. “If they weren’t looking for knowledge then she must have been corrupted by being forced to fight which is against her very nature...”  

Her body suddenly tensed as she aimed her bow, an arrow of fire pulsing along the bowstring and she aimed it at the rock formation beside the demon. Three mages emerged from hiding, each holding their hands up in surrender. They were all human too and the leader was a stout looking man with short black hair and a thin mustache. Amanatha only lowered her bow slightly as the man approached them, a look of relief on his face. “Mages!” He said in tired relief. “Judging from your attire, you’re not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We’ve been fighting that demon…”  

“You summoned that demon!” Solas snapped, not even caring if the Inquisitor was present now. “Except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time. You made it kill. You twisted it against its purpose.”  

The mage nearly staggered backwards at the verbal accusation being thrown at him, but he cleared his throat seemingly trying to de-escalate the situation. “I… I… I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can…”  

Solas bared his teeth, a low, dark growl emanating from his throat. “We are not here to help  you !”  

Amanatha swore she saw Solas’ eyes bleed to a glowing blood-red and she reached out to him, her hand resting on his shoulder. He jerked his head in her direction before adverting his gaze, the red fading from his eyes. The elf woman than turned her attention back to the mage before him and with great effort, suppressed her own growing anger. “Word of advice?” She offered diplomatically, “I’d hold off on explaining how demons work to my vhenan here.”  

“Listen to me! I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle-”  

The mage didn’t get to finish his sentence as the Inquisitor suddenly slammed him against the rock, her eyes glowing with a dark green and blue light. Her fingers curled around his throat; her nails now sharpened claws pinching against his flesh. “The next words you speak that insult his intelligence or mine will resort to you receiving a fate worse than dying to a horde of demons.” She snarled so icily, it felt as though the air around her froze. “Do I make myself clear, shem ?”  

The mage quickly nodded his head.  

“Good.” She said, releasing him while retracting her claws. “Now, I’m guessing you summoned the spirit to protect you from the bandits?”  

The human nodded his head again.  

“But she refused so instead you bound her to obedience then commanded her to kill.” She finished, earning another nod followed by a growl from Solas. “But that was when she turned, wasn’t it?” She didn’t wait for the human to answer. Instead, she and Solas turned their attentions to the spires binding their friend. Amanatha was familiar with these rituals and after a quick scanning of the runes glowing on the rocks deduced that they just needed to break the bindings. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon. Solas seemed to have the same idea. However, the human mage suddenly found his voice again and immediately began to protest.  

“The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us!” Shouted the mage. “Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!”  

Amanatha slowly turned her head towards the mage and the man shrunk at the intense glare he received. “The only monster I see is you.” She spat before turning her attention to the bindings. She glanced at Solas. “Think you can break those bindings while keep her attention on me?”  

Solas nodded. “We must hurry!”  

Amanatha surged forth, whistling at the demon who snarled at her. The elf danced out of reach of its claws while Solas worked on destroying the seals. She let out a grunt when the creature swiped her into another binding spire, breaking it in the process. Solas let out a pained wince, holding his side as a pair of claw marks appeared under his shirt. Amanatha held her own side, grimacing but she didn’t see his injury and he was grateful for that detail. The Inquisitor once again shot forward in a cloak of lightning catching the demon’s attention. She dodged the creature’s lightning whips just barely, shuddering as her hair stood on end from the static energy crackling around her. “ Mamae ! Snap out of it!” Amanatha pleaded, side-stepping out of the way of another attack. She saw the demon’s eyes narrow slightly then it widened its gaze as though it recognized her. But the moment was short-lived when the pride demon lunged at her once more.  

“How’s it coming Solas?!” The woman yelped rolling out of the way, narrowly missing a claw that sliced a hair from her head. “I can’t keep dodging forever!”  

Solas sighed as the final binding stone crumpled to dust. “Finished!”  

As the demon began to shrink, Solas quickly mended his wound and rushed over to his friend as she reverted back to her original form. Amanatha hissed slightly as her own magic closed her wounds and she knelt beside the apostate. Wisdom stared blankly at the two elves in a daze before she shook her spectral head and smiled weakly. “ Falon .” She said to Solas, then turned her gaze to Amanatha. “ Da’len .”  

“ Lethallin. Ir abelas .” Solas apologized sadly.  

Wisdom shook her head. “ Tel’abelas. Enasal. Ir tel’him. Ma melava halani. Mala suledin nadas. Ma ghilana mir din’an .”  

“ Mamae ...”  

The spirit lifted her head to gaze fondly at Amanatha. “ Ar ame mah ma ta uvena alin. Mala, teltas ma ema tu be u .” She lifted her hands, one cradling the Inquisitor’s cheek and the other resting on Solas’ shoulder. “ Britha or itha my alin sul mal is iras ju vena mar irmor .”  

“ Ma nuvenin, ma falon .” Solas whispered as he held up his hand, a tranquil green light enveloping Wisdom. Amanatha felt the coolness of the spirit’s hand disappear. When the last of the Fade magic billowed away in the wind, both elves muttered a prayer of safe travels to their fallen friend.  

Solas felt his heart breaking. He knew Amanatha was feeling the same thing. He felt her kneel behind him, wrapping her arms from behind him and her head rested against his back. “ Ar harthem ahn ra... Ra dea deal de den gonun .” She whispered softly. “ Ma hallani ra .”  

“Now we must endure...” He whispered back, closing his eyes tightly, fighting back the tears. He felt Amanatha hug him tighter.  

“ Lasa em eolasa vis ar elana halani .”  

He smiled weakly, reaching up to weave his fingers through hers as her hand rested over his heart. You already have, Vhenan . They stayed like this for a moment, quietly grieving together the loss of their closest friend. Amanatha tightened her hold on him once more before the two rose to their feet. She cupped his chin, offering him a sad smile. Solas was about to reciprocate the gesture when the human mage emerged from his cover with his fellow mages. His eyes bled back to red once more, the fires of rage and hate seething beneath his skin. “All that remains is them.” He muttered. The mage tried to offer his thanks in the aid he received but the two elves only glared at him. Thanks to this shemlen’s stupidity, they had lost a great friend and family member. These mages tortured and killed their friend.  

“We didn’t know it was just a spirit!” Pleaded the man.  

“She was more than just a spirit!” The Inquisitor snarled, her own fire of rage boiling over.  

Solas didn’t want to hear anymore. A cloak of fire wrapped around him and a dark growl left his throat. He held up a fistful of fire, feeling the heat growing with every plea from the human. “ Dy ar pasicorh mrith shemlen ?”  

“ Vin .”  

The last thing Amanatha saw that remained of the humans were the ashes of their bodies as Solas incinerated them. The wind picked up, taking with it the ashes and scattering them across the skies. Solas was panting angrily, fists clenched tight to his sides as he glared at the charred circle before him. “Damn them all.” He snarled in a shaky voice. “Damn them all!” He all but roared in to the air. The elvhen woman felt her heart ache for the man. It ached for the loss of Wisdom. So much pain and she didn’t know what she could do. She stiffened slightly when Solas turned his head slightly to glance at her. She could still see the red in his eyes despite them returning to their usual blue. “I need some time alone, Vhenan .”  

She nodded her head understandingly. “I will be at my grandfather’s camp further up river. I will send a raven to Skyhold explaining our... abrupt leave.”  

He nodded.  

And with that, he was gone.  

Chapter Text

It had been quite some time since Amanatha visited her mother’s clan. Clan Ghilain was more traditional in terms of Dalish beliefs but her grandfather, Hawen, had always been kind to her despite how different she was raised. When he had learned about what her mother had done to her, Amanatha was stunned to find that it was he who exiled her from the clan. Upon seeing his grand-daughter's mount arrive at the camp then shortly saw her arrive, he was overjoyed to see her. As evening started to fall over the camp, Amanatha told her grandfather what had transpired and the events that led her back to the Exalted Plains. Hawen listened intently while he cooked some fish over the roaring fire. He occasionally had to turn his head to reprimand the younglings getting too rambunctious around the halla but other than that, he kept his focus on his grand-daughter. While he may not have shared the same sentiment towards spirits like Amanatha, he knew how precious they were to her. The old elf felt the younger lean against him and heave a heavy sigh. Hawen pulled his grand-daughter closer, his hand caressing the back of her head.  

They enjoyed the quietness of the night when Hawen suddenly jerked his head to the sound of rocks clacking into the river. A figure emerged from the shadows, his head hanging low as he approached the fire. Hawen noticed the stranger was an elf but he bore no vallaslin on his face. Amanatha rose to her feet and walked over to the elf. From her posture, the elder assumed that this flat-ear was her companion she mentioned earlier. 

“How are you, Solas?” 

The bald elf lifted his gaze slightly to the sound of her voice. “It hurts.” He said, rubbing his left arm, fingers digging into the sleeve of his tunic. “It always does, but I will survive.” 

“You didn’t have to come back so soon.” She whispered, holding his cheek. “But I appreciate you coming back.” 

Solas smiled, but the light didn’t quite meet his eyes. Of course, he came back. She did everything she could to save their friend. He wouldn’t abandon her now. Hawen cleared his throat with a hearty chuckle, reminding the two that he was still present. Amanatha guided Solas to sit with her by the fire. The elder and the mage made some small talk, mostly introducing themselves but there was a somber ambience among them. After some time, the Keeper excused himself for the night, allowing the two some privacy in the comfort of the fire. Amanatha swore she caught a look of excitement on her grandfather’s face and she had a hunch that they would be in for a treat the next morning. Solas hardly moved, even when Thestral trotted over to him and laid down next him, the dracolisk’s head resting on the apostate’s lap.  

“Where did you go?” Asked the woman as she scooted closer to him. 

The elvhen mage rested a hand on the dracolisk’s head as he closed his eyes. “I found a quiet spot and went to sleep. I visited the place in the Fade where my friend used to be. It’s empty, but there are stirrings of energy in the Void. Someday something new may grow there.” 

“I’ve always wondered... what happens if a spirit dies?” 

Solas spared a brief glance in her direction. “It isn’t the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again.” He saw the hopeful look in her eyes, the question that wanted to spring forth: they can come back? He shook his head slowly, and her eyes saddened. “A spirit’s natural state is peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something similar may reform one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember us. It would not be the friend we knew.” 

Amanatha bit her lip, saddened by the news but soon a smile graced her lips. “True, but it would mean that we would have a new friend to make.” 

Solas felt his eyes widened but he chuckled. That was an unexpected answer. “An interesting perspective and a very positive one at that.”  

A long silence passed between them, the only sounds being the quiet running of the river nearby, the crackling of wood on the fire and the soft breathing of Thestral as Solas continued to pet the creature. “The next time you have to mourn...” Amanatha started quietly, resting her head on his shoulder, “you need not to mourn alone.” She felt him lean his head to rest atop hers. He wanted to thank her, but his words failed him. Thankfully, he did not need to speak. She could feel his gratitude and sense how much she meant to him.  

~~~~~~~~~ 

As the sun rose over the Dalish encampment, Solas was the first to rise up from the bed of furs he was laying on. Amanatha was still dreaming beside him, her hand still entwined with his. He noticed stirrings coming from the other arravels and he gently shook the Inquisitor awake. The woman stretched out her body before sitting up and shielding her eyes from the rising sun in the distance. She took out of a comb and began taming her ebony mane while staring at the dawn lotuses floating along the riverbed. She was about to begin braiding her hair when Solas sat behind her, offering to do it for her. At first, she was taken aback by the gesture but soon handed him the comb and sat in front of him. As Solas glided the comb through her ebony tresses, Amanatha couldn’t stop the small blush creeping on her face.  

His fingers weaved through her hair as he separated the locks into segments. The mage noticed the Inquisitor’s ears twitched as more and more of the other Dalish wandered about the camp doing their daily chores. He noticed a couple women whispering while glancing at the two outsiders. His fingers brushed against her ear as he weaved another lock into place. He heard their whispers but ignored them nonetheless. He was used to such distrustful leers.  

“You get used to that.” She said knowingly. Solas hummed with a slight eye roll. Oh, he was used to such hostility. He tied her braid up and smiled at his handiwork. He patted her shoulder as she turned her head with a smile. “Thank you. It looks amazing. Where did you learn to braid like this?” 

“I did have hair at one point, Natha. My mother actually taught me this style.” He pointed out.  

She cocked her head to the side. “What made you decide to cut it?” 

“I... it was out of grief, among other things.” 

“Ever thought about regrowing it?” 

“Haha, why?” He teased, “Do you wish to return the favor?” 

She blushed and scratched her cheek. “Yes...” 

“Hahahaha!” 

He couldn’t help it. The meek little response was too adorable. She buried her face in her hands only adding to his laughter. While he was laughing at her expense, she was glad that he was smiling again. Soon, the laughter died down when Hawen approached the two, carrying what looked to be a small chest. “I trust you two slept well?” The elder asked and the two nodded their heads in response. “I was doing some cleaning in the arravels when I came across this.” 

He set the chest down and Amanatha knelt down to examine it. The box was small and carved out of a dark ebony. There were carvings of hummingbirds etching the borders of the box along with a herd of halla running at the base. On the top of the box was a sun symbol almost reminiscing of the Andrastinian faith. Amanatha glanced up at Hawen in confusion. “What is this?” She inquired curiously. Solas also shared her curiosity as he loomed over her shoulder. The old elf sat down on a large rock as he watched his grand-daughter study the parcel. She frowned noticing a lock on the chest and she stared at her grandfather incredulously. He smirked as he brandished an old key that looked to be carved from a dragon’s tooth. He tossed it to Amanatha watching as she snatched it out of the air. 

“That contains a history of your family line from my side of the family.” Hawen explained. “It spans over eight-hundred years of family history. My great grandfather instructed me to give this to my descendant. I believe you might find the contents intriguing.” 

“What should I expect to find?”  

Hawen’s grin grew. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.”  

“Sadist!” The young elf woman huffed with a smirk. “I know you have a story to tell.” 

Hawen laughed before tapping his chin. Perhaps he could indulge a little bit of the history behind the chest. He sat cross-legged on the stump while Amanatha excitedly sat down before him like an eager child. Hawen always loved her curiosity and eagerness to learn new things, even if she didn’t follow the beliefs. He watched as the flat-ear took a seat beside her, his ears twitching in excitement as well. Well, it would seem the share a fondness for history. The old elf thought as he took the chest and opened it up. He pulled out an old looking letter, gave it a quick glance then handed it to Amanatha. With a careful hand, the woman looked over the contents. 

My darling Lingrean,  

I hope this letter finds you well. You are probably four maybe five summers old now. I am so sorry that I am not there to see you grow, to hear your laugh and more. The search for your father has not borne fruit but I am determined to bring him home so that he may lay eyes upon you. You do not yet realize just how much you resemble him. His passionate nature. He always strove to be someone others could rely on. He cares so much about this world. His friends... his family. I will write again soon, but should you ever feel alone or when things seem too much to bear, simply watch the hummingbirds dance in the sky for they are your father and I watching over you even from afar.  

Sincerely your mother,  

Telana  

Amanatha passed the letter over to Solas before glancing up at her grandfather. She had so many questions. However, Hawen merely smirked at the two. He returned the letter back into the chest and sealed it up. “So, this chest has been passed down from generation to generation?” Solas inquired and the old Dalish nodded his head. “That’s quite the accumulation of history.” Hawen grinned proudly as Amanatha took the chest and set it down beside them. Hawen explained that the chest was probably the most cherished heirloom he possessed and that he had tried to figure out what had happened to Telana. From what he could remember, his ancestor was left with the clan when he was still a young babe. His mother had apparently left to find her husband who had gone missing but never returned. He grew up and had a family of his own but he often wondered what had happened to his parents. Time flowed onwards until the tale of his family became just that. A tale.  

“However, my grandfather stated that only Dreamers could find the truth as they are able to traverse the Fade more freely than most mages.” Hawen said glancing at Amanatha and Solas. “In fact, the clue lies within the hummingbirds flitting around in the Fade.” 

“Hummingbirds?” 

The elder nodded once more. “That is the only clue I can give for the rest of the answers lay within the chest.” 

Before his grand-daughter could press him further for answers, the old man departed away from the two to attend his duties as the Keeper. Solas turned his head slightly to find a pout on the Inquisitor’s face. He heard her grumble under her breath before rising to her feet and collecting the chest. He opted to get Thestral ready for travel but as he was about to climb onto the dracolisk’s back he noticed Amanatha staring at something above the river’s surface. Amanatha blinked when she heard Solas call her name and after taking a quick look at the water, shrugged and climbed up on to her mount with the chest in front of her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Once they were far enough away from the encampment and safely on their way back to Skyhold, Solas cleared his throat earning a curious hum from the woman in front of him. There was still the matter of the binding still plaguing them. Sensing his hesitation, Amanatha urged Thestral to rest under one of the massive trees in the forest and turned to gaze at the mage. She obviously spotted the look of concern on his face because she began to mirror his expression. However, Solas couldn’t bring himself to tell her and merely turned his attention to the serene landscape of trees around them. “It's... quiet here.” He stated sheepishly. “I like it.” Amanatha’s brow rose suspiciously before she examined the sunlight piercing through the leaves above. The gentle shake of the leaves as the breeze whistled through the branches did indeed add a peaceful tranquility to the area. She hummed in agreement before urging the dracolisk onwards. Solas felt a wave of guilt wash over him but it was only briefly, as he did not wish for the woman to catch on to his discomfort. He knew keeping this a secret would return to bite him in the ass but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the curse on them. He’d tell her... once he removed the fatality off them. 

Amanatha wasn’t sure why, but she got the sense Solas was hiding something. She tilted her head to the side before sighing silently. Deciding not to pressure the mage, she glanced down at the chest with fascination. She couldn’t wait to explore the secrets hidden within. But one thing puzzled her. If only Fade-Walkers could see the so-called hummingbirds, did that mean that most of her grandfather’s ancestors were unable to walk in the Fade when the slept? And if so, did that mean since she was a Dreamer she could find out what had transpired in the past? So many questions ran through her mind but also anticipation and excitement. “I can hear you thinking there, Inquisitor.”  

She blushed upon hearing Solas’ voice in her ear. “I’m just excited to learn more about my grandfather’s family history.” She then chuckled. “It’s amazing what history can teach you. Don’t you agree?” 

“Indeed. Learning about one’s origins is always fascinating though I am amused that he teased you quite a bit.” 

“That’s nothing new. He’s always been like until I stopped visiting.” Her tone turned sad for a moment but she quickly smiled. “Still, it was nice to see him again.” 

The ride was mostly uneventful and they returned to Skyhold without much delay. While Solas returned to the rotunda, Amanatha tended to her mount. She had just finished getting the animal settled into the clean stall when she noticed the barn was empty and a finished wooden gryphon laid unpainted on a work bench. She wandered over to the bench and traced a delicate hand along the sanded masterpiece. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Blackwall was a toy-maker. She smiled before deciding to make her rounds throughout the hold. A few hours later, evening had fallen over the castle and she turned her head towards the dark purple sky, specks of light speckling the sky as the day gave way to the stars. She was halfway up the flight of stairs when something fluttered in the corner of her eye.  

~~~~~~~~~ 

The next morning, Amanatha was sitting near the training yard where Cassandra normally resided going over more letters from within the chest. She had learned very little from most of the letters. The most she learned was that Telana and her husband were on a dangerous mission from what she garnered from the oldest letters from the woman to her clan. She was just about to examine another letter when Cassandra approached her. The elf set the parchment back into its case and closed it, locking it tight. The Seeker had an anxious expression on her usually stoic face. Amanatha set the chest down before rising to her feet. “What’s wrong Cassandra? Still no luck on finding the Seekers?” Ever since the incident at Haven, the Seeker had been hard at work trying to find the rest of her fellow Seekers but had no luck. They had seen many Red Templars that day as well but as Cassandra had stated, they did not see Lord Seeker Lucius. Since then, the woman believed that her companions had been captured by Corypheus. 

“Is there any other place we have yet to check?” Amanatha pondered watching the Seeker pace around. 

Cassandra halted mid-step as she squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to remember. When her eyes opened once more, a flash of realization shone in her eyes followed by a frown. “Caer Oswin... It’s a fortress in Fereldan and owned by a Bann Loren.” Cassandra then shook her head. “I didn’t see Bann Loren as the sort of nobleman that would become involved in this war. The sooner we go there, the sooner I can put this search behind me.” 

“Then let’s saddle up and get going. I’ll grab Bull and Cole.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It took about a day to reach the fortress for it was on the other side of Fereldan and it was late in the evening when they arrived. Amanatha quickly dropped down from the back of a stallion she borrowed from the stables and quickly followed after Cassandra with Iron Bull and Cole in tow. The fortress was impressive but some of the walls had crumbled due to erosion. They followed a fresh trail leading to the back of the building and decided to follow it. They found a door that was locked and the Seeker growled in annoyance. They needed a key. Amanatha merely chuckled gently moved the woman aside and knelt down before the door, removing a pair of lockpicks from her belt. While she worked the lock, Cassandra paced around anxiously. “Bann Loren is a pious, unassuming man. What has he become involved in?” 

Amanatha, ever the hopeful one, suggested that the man was probably a victim in the matter. Bull, not so much. The Qunari stated that the man was involved with something crazy like everyone else. Either way, they would have to wait and see. The subtle click of the lock told them that the Inquisitor managed to open the door and the four of them wandered inside. It was dark and dank in the room. From the cells on their right, they deduced that they were inside a dungeon, but before they could even examine them, they found themselves facing against a strange group of soldiers. Their armor was similar to the Seeker armor Cassandra wore but instead of the fiery eye in the center, their armor had what appeared to be a phoenix rising from the ashes. Cassandra instantly recognized the emblem. 

“Promisers. I should have known.” The Seeker growled as she stared at the emblem. “The Order of Fiery Promise is a cult with… strange beliefs about the Seekers. They’ve hounded us for centuries.” 

Amanatha glanced at Bull who shrugged his shoulders then turned her head back towards Cassandra. She had called them cultists. “I am almost afraid to ask, but what ‘strange beliefs’ are we talking about here?” 

“They believe  they  are Seekers or rather the only rightful ones.” Cassandra explained as they pressed onwards. “They say we robbed their powers long ago, preventing them from ending the world.” 

Now it was Iron Bull’s turn to scoff. “How do they plan on doing that? With dragon fire?” He quickly turned his head towards Amanatha who quirked a brow at him with a smirk. “No offense, Boss.” The Inquisitor rolled her eyes with a smirk. 

“They believe the only way to truly eradicate evil, in their eyes. ‘The world will be reborn a paradise.’ It’s all nonsense.” Cassandra waved her hand in disgust. “But this might explain why the Seekers might be here, but not the connection to Corypheus.” 

They managed to find a flight of stairs leading out of the dungeon when Cole spotted a corpse near the door. The armor was most definitely from the Seekers but from the wounds on the body, it was clear the poor man was tortured with some wounds looking older than the killing blow. They saw light up ahead leading to what appeared to be a courtyard. Cassandra took point once more as they cautiously made their way outside. It was quiet. Too quiet and the moon was high in the sky illuminating the entire courtyard. They spread out around the yard, cautiously waiting for more Promisers to make themselves known. They didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, they were being swarmed by more and more of the strange cultists. Thankfully, Bull managed to keep most of the estranged knights away from group with his battleaxe. Cole and Amanatha managed to finish off the stragglers while Cassandra sifted through one of the bodies. When the woman produced a partially bloodied note, the others gathered around her. 

“ As the Seekers of Truth have proven resistant to the effect of red lyrium, the Elder One has seen fit to place them in your care. Reclaim your destiny, and know that the Elder One expects your devotion as repayment .” Cassandra read aloud before showing the Inquisitor the signature at the bottom. “It’s signed by Lord Samson, commander of the Red Templars.” 

“It would seem Samson sold out the Seekers to the cultists...” Amanatha growled as she pocketed the letter, claiming Cullen would want this information too. Cassandra seemed to have more questions brewing within her head. This did not make any sense. Nor did it explain how Samson or Corypheus captured her brethren so quickly. They had to be missing something. The woman went rigid when Amanatha touched her shoulder. “We’ll keep looking. With a place this big, we’re bound to find something.” 

While they continued their search through another section of the fort, Amanatha removed the letter from her pouch and reread the contents. The letter said Seekers were resistant to red lyrium. She recalled Cassanadra mentioning that Seekers did not use lyrium so the elf deduced that the Seekers’ abilities granted them many gifts. Perhaps this resistance to red lyrium’s corruption was one of them? That seemed strange. Although it would explain why none of Cassandra’s faction have numbered among the red templars. Amanatha concluded that the Seekers would be useless to Corypheus. He would have no leash to hold them by. After searching several empty sheds in the courtyard, Iron Bull found a door leading deeper into the fortress. The halls were dimly lit by torches that seemed to be fading. Amanatha wandered towards a few that were almost extinguished and whispered into her palm, small flames dancing above her skin. She brought her hand to the torch, watching the embers roar to life once more and illuminating another hallway leading towards what appeared to be an audience chamber with a grand staircase made of stained black marble. 

“Slime, prickly and sharp. Tastes like oil and tar. I can feel it crawling under my skin, eating away at me like a dog gnaws at bone...” Cole suddenly spoke, is eyes focused at the base of the stairs. “I don’t want to be alone...” 

Cassandra glanced at the spirit than at the Inquisitor who pointed at a figure slumped at the foot of the stairs. The figure donned the Seeker’s armor but their body was pale save for the very visible black veins of corruption seemingly writhing beneath their flesh. The Seeker’s eyes grew wide with recognition and shock, nearly abandoning her sword as she raced towards the dying man. “Daniel!”  

The man’s eyes struggled to open as he lifted his head weakly to the sound of Cassandra’s voice. His gaze at first seemed to reflect that he thought he was hallucinating, seeing specters instead reality. When he felt the woman kneel down and prop him against a pillar, he could barely form a smile. “Cassandra?” He mumbled as her image came into focus. “It is you... Thank the Maker... You’re alive.” 

“As are you, my friend.” The woman said softly. “I’m so glad I found you.” 

“Writhing, clawing, chewing. It wants to get it out, wants control but it can’t find a foothold.” Cole said anxiously. “He fights it, but his strength... can’t hold on. Maker, please... just a little more time. Give me the strength...” 

Bull narrowed his eyes at the kid. “What’s wrong with him?” 

“Cole says there’s a demon within Daniel...” Amanatha explained sadly, “and the boy is stubbornly holding on.” 

“What?” Cassandra snapped in disbelief. “You can’t be possessed! That’s impossible!” 

Daniel shook his head. He winced feeling the demon within him claw at his insides and he coughed, causing thin trails of black and red blood to trickle down his lips. He groaned, explaining that he wasn’t possessed exactly but rather, the Promisers forcefully fed him strange liquids and food and that they growing a demon within him. Iron Bull had to move away feeling his stomach betray him when he saw some the tainted veins move around Daniel’s neck. When Daniel mentioned the Lord Seeker, Cassandra’s eyes lit up hopefully. She exclaimed that if they found Lucius than perhaps, they could save her fellow Seeker. However, Daniel shook his head earnestly and fearfully. “Lucius betrayed us, Cassandra.” The dying Seeker hissed both painfully and angrily. “He sent us here, one by one. “An important mission,” he said. Lies. He was here with them all along. He’s still working with them.” 

“But we saw him in Val Royeaux.” Cassandra pointed out. 

Once again, Daniel shook his head. “No... that was a demon of Envy masquerading as the Lord Seeker.” 

“That explained the smell I detected... I had hoped the demon had marked him but looks like I was wrong.” Amanatha growled in disgust. “Either way, the Lord Seeker is a dead man.” 

“Please!” Daniel coughed, another bubble of blood leaving his throat. “Don’t... don’t leave me like this...” 

Cole looked up at Cassandra and the Inquisitor. The elf nodded her head then motioned for Cassandra to aid the spirit. The Spirit of Compassion knelt down next to Daniel then placed a soothing hand on the man’s brow and a bright mist enveloped the Seeker’s eyes. “Quiet, tranquil and serene. The leaves on the trees swaying beautiful in the afternoon light. Cassandra’s voice strong and firm sounds so different when we enjoy a drink.” Cole said, finding a soothing memory to distract the man from the pain. “Sweet, warm, like honey, the mead tastes even better after the training we did. She’s amazing. Like a big sister. Think I will ever surpass you, Mentor? I ask her and she laughs. Perhaps, she says, but you need to train harder to accomplish that. I grumble under my breath but flash her a cocky grin.” As he finished the memory, Cassandra had already ended Daniel’s life, a small smile on his face as his last moments were peaceful and calm. 

“Go to the Maker’s side, Daniel.” Cassandra whispered, sheathing her blade. “You will be welcome.”

Chapter Text

The party trudged up the stairs, a heavy silence dwelling upon them all. This was just monstrous. How anyone could perform these types of rituals in hopes of bringing a new world was beyond the elf. It was almost like seeing the history of the Evanuris. She wouldn’t even be surprised if they, too, did this. The thought still made her unsettled. They made their way through another door that led to what looked to be a magnificent garden. But they weren’t alone. The sound of heavy metal footsteps shattered the tranquility of the garden and three men in heavy armor donning the Seeker’s emblem slowly approached the Inquisitor and her companions. Amanatha and Cole were already hunched over, weapons drawn and a cold look in their eyes as they eyed the Lord Seeker.  

“Lord Seeker Lucius.” Cassandra all but hissed at her former leader.  

“Cassandra,” Lucius returned coolly as he held his hands behind his back, his eyes briefly scanning the Dalish woman beside her. “With a woman I can only assume is the Inquisitor.”  

Amanatha growled faintly. “You must be very proud of your handiwork harellan . Working for Corypheus, luring men who trusted you, believed in you and then you slaughtered them.”  

“Corypheus is a monster with limited ambition. As for those men... there was no other choice.”  

Cassandra gritted her teeth. “No other choice? Have you gone mad?!”  

“Did you know we Seekers of Truth were once the original Inquisition?” Lucius ignored her jab and a frown formed on his brow at the confused expression on the Inquisitor’s face. “Oh, yes. We fought to restore order in a time of madness long ago, as you do now. And we became proud. We sought to remake the world—to make it better. But what did we create? The Chantry. The Circles of Magi. A war that will see no end.”  

“What a load of crap.” Bull growled. “The Boss’ Inquisition is nothing like the Inquisition of old.”  

Lucius shook his head. “You say that now but over time, history will repeat itself.” He then turned his attention back to Cassandra, seemingly pondering her words before laughing bitterly. “Maybe I have gone insane. Maybe not. The truth is: We Seekers are abominations, Cassandra. We created a decaying world and fought to preserve it even as it crumbled. We had to be stopped.”  

Seeing the denial and doubt in the younger Seeker’s eyes, the Lord Seeker held out a hand to his subordinate who placed a very old and worn book into it. It looked similar to the Writ from the Divine. He threw it at Cassandra’s feet, a soft thump echoing as the book landed on the dirt. He nodded his head in a silent order for the woman to read it. Cassandra flashed a look at Amanatha, then collected the book, prying it open with shaky hands. The pages were old and worn with the ink nearly faded but the book itself seemed to have an enchantment that kept it from deteriorating. Within it, Cassandra saw the secrets of the Seeker Order, passed to Lucius after the former Lord Seeker was slain. The current Lord Seeker stated that the war with the mages had already begun by the time he received the tome, but it was not too late for him to do the right thing. According to him anyway.   

Lucius then held out a welcoming hand towards Cassandra. “What Corypheus did with the templars does not matter. I have seen the future. I have created a new Order to replace the old. The world will end so we can start anew–a pure beginning. Join us, Cassandra. It is the Maker’s w-”  

An arrow suddenly pierced through the man’s skull and just as the Lord Seeker’s body toppled to the ground, the other two warriors charged to engage the Inquisitor. The fight barely lasted more than ten minutes as Bull and Cassandra made short work of the two. Cole picked up the discarded tome and handed it to Amanatha who shook her head silently to herself. “He had to be insane... He just had to be.” Cassandra muttered before glancing at Cole. “Tell me Cole, do you think it was Corypheus’ influence? Or perhaps the envy demon?”  

The spirit stared at the body of the former Lord Seeker then back at Cassandra before shaking his head. Iron Bull spoke first. “I’ve been a spy for a long time, Cassandra and I’d know if he was lying.” The one-eyed qunari said, frowning. The woman shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that the leader of her faction was right. She knelt down to collect the book and brushed off the blades of grass. She stared hard at the cover before turning towards her companions. She then marched off with Amanatha striding beside her. They had found the Seekers and what had happened to them. But they also gained a piece of history too, and the two were more than curious to see what was hidden in this book of secrets.  

~~~~~~~~~~  

They had returned to Skyhold later the next morning and after she had rested for several hours, Amanatha made her way to Cassandra’s quarters within the barracks of the fort. She did not need to travel as far as she thought, for she found the Seeker sitting at a table, staring with disgust at the book. From the bags under the woman’s eyes, she had yet to sleep and possibly spent the entire time reading the book from front to back. The Inquisitor took a seat across from her and reached out a hand to grip the Seeker’s shoulder. Cassandra barely met her gaze before folding her hands under her chin, her scowl deepening.  This tome had passed from Lord Seeker to Lord Seeker, since the time of the old Inquisition, apparently. And now it fell to her. When Amanatha noted the bags under Cassandra’s eyes, the woman merely shrugged. “Do you know what the Rite of Tranquility is?” She didn’t bother to wait for the Inquisitor’s answer. “The last resort used on mages in the Circle, leaving them unable to cast but depriving them of dreams and all emotion. It should only be used on those who cannot control their abilities… but that has not always been the case...”  

“It sounds horrible...” The elf said, gesturing to look at the book.  

While she took a gander at the contents, Cassandra waited patiently for her to finish. The writing in the book looked oddly familiar to Amanatha. Almost identical to some of the letters within her family chest. Her fingers tentatively glided along the pages of the book, quickly scanning the contents until they found the Rite of Tranquility two thirds into the book. It showed in detail how to severe a mage from the Fade with the use of an incantation and a lyrium brand. The result was the mage could no longer dream, cast magic and their emotions but they still retained their memories from before. From what she had heard from Vivienne and even Fiona, they believed Tranquility was permanent. As Cassandra stated, it was supposed to be a last resort. Then Amanatha turned a few more pages and felt her eyes widen. This part of the book revealed how to reverse the effects of Tranquility. The elf lifted her head at the Seeker then back at the book.  

“What finally began the mage rebellion was a discovery the Rite of Tranquility could be reversed...” Cassandra paused for a moment. “The Lord Seeker at the time covered it up—harshly. There were deaths. It was dangerous knowledge. The shock of its discovery in addition to what happened in Kirkwall… But it appears we’ve always known how to reverse the rite. From the beginning...”  

“So, the Seekers are the cause of a rebellion that could have been avoided...” Amanatha growled slamming the book shut then she stared at the woman. “But from the looks of it, Seekers go through the Rite of Tranquility as well. I recall you mentioning that you spent months in a vigil with no emotion?”  

The Seeker nodded her head. She was made Tranquil, and did not even know. Then the vigil summoned a spirit of faith to touch her mind. That broke Tranquility and gave her the abilities she now possessed. The Seekers did not share that secret. Not with her, not with the Chantry. Not even with the mages. That wasn’t all either. Lucius was not wrong about the Order. In truth, Cassandra thought to rebuild the Seekers once victory was theirs. At least, that was her hope. Now? She was not certain it deserved to be rebuilt. She got up from the table and stared out of the window looking down at the training yard. “At some point, power becomes its own master. We cast aside ideals in favor of expedience and tell ourselves it was all necessary. For the people. Will that happen to us, Inquisitor? Will we repeat history?”   

Amanatha stood next to her before answering honestly. “It is possible that it could happen, but I don’t plan on letting it happen if I can help it.”  

“I do not think the Seekers have been doing the Maker’s work. Not truly. Perhaps we believed it, once. The original Inquisition came to be during a terrible time. But now? We harbored secrets and let them fester. We acted to survive, but not to serve. That is not the Maker’s work.” Cassandra said with a crestfallen tone.  

“Cassandra, no one knows what the Maker’s true work is. We are mortal. The best we can do is strive to be the best person we can be. It’s your decision to rebuild the Seekers but if you do?” The elf smiled when the Seeker glanced at her. “Make it better. If anyone can, it’s you. Do you mind if I borrow this?”  

Cassandra chuckled nodding her head as the Inquisitor collected the book. She shook her head with a small smile when the elf reassured that she had no intentions of using the Rite since after all, she was a mage herself.. The Seeker had much to think about but for now, she was just relieved that they found the truth about her companions and the rest of the Order. The Seeker also knew that the elf was right about her choice in regards to the Seekers. For the moment, she would wait until they dealt with Corypheus. Then another thought crossed her mind. There was also the matter of the new Divine... Maker, she needed a break.  

~~~~~~~~~  

Solas had heard about the Inquisitor’s return but he was not in the rotunda that afternoon. He was actually in the tavern avoiding Dorian. The insufferable Tevinter had been pestering him about his supposed ‘hobo’ attire. The apostate had heard it more than once and it only got worse when Vivienne decided to join in on the teasing. Solas didn’t think he looked odd. Hell, Amanatha had even stated that she liked the way he looked. Found it comforting. He collected his dinner, a plate of chicken and potatoes, and made his way to a quiet corner on the second floor. As he took a seat, he pulled out a small book from his pocket and conjured a piece of charcoal in his hand. He flipped through the pages of his sketches, most of them consisting of the Inquisitor with her dracolisk or elvhen ruins they encountered. He set to work, enjoying the ambience of the tavern patrons talking and the bard singing below. The elf had recently finished another mural in the rotunda but had run out of paint and was now sketching ideas for the next section of plaster.  

He had finished his meal and was so absorbed in his sketch that he almost didn’t see Sera sitting across from him until he lifted his gaze. He felt his eyes narrow at the city elf who beamed at him. “Hey, Droopy-Ears! I have an ‘Elfy favor’ to ask. Just a little thing, really. A little march-around. It’s nothing for you, right?” Before Solas could even attempt to inquire what was going on, Sera continued babbling. “It’s a Red Jenny thing. I got a tip that some noble stiffs are arguing over Verchiel. Land squabble. They’re getting little people beat up, so I need you. Well, really, I need Inquisi-tits but she’s busy with Cassandra. Anyway, just a walkthrough, yeah? Pretty simple, right?”  

“Why me and not Cullen or the others?” Solas asked suspiciously.  

Sera’s smirk grew wider, and the apostate began feeling uncomfortable. “Inquisi-tits made a good point. We should learn to work together. So, I thought why not investigate this together?”  

“I suppose that makes sense...”  

“Great!” The city elf beamed at him before vaulting over the banister and jogging out the door. “Meet me at the stables!”  

Solas had a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He just knew that this little excursion was going to head south but considering how busy Amanatha was becoming, it made sense for him to try and work with the others. Though he was still wary of working with Sera after the whole debacle with his family staff. He collected his staff, running his hand along the runes infused on the haft then made his way back to the stables where Thestral gave him and Sera a baffled expression. He looked at the city elf who was strapping her daggers to her belt. She nodded her head towards the dracolisk and Solas rolled his eyes glancing at the animal. “Do you mind giving me and Sera a lift?” He asked petting the draconic steed’s snout. The animal made a low growl at the city elf but nodded his head at the apostate allowing him to get a saddle on his back. Solas stubbornly fought to keep a neutral expression on his face when Sera climbed up behind him, giggling like a madwoman as he urged Thestral into a trot.   

They arrived at the mouth of a forest that led towards Val Royeaux and the apostate turned his head slightly towards Sera. “You sure this is the place?”  

“Yeah.” She nodded pointing into the woods. “My friend is located on the other side. Said that was where the drop-off would be.”  

Solas clicked his tongue and Threstral began to walk along the beaten path, making wary chirps and growls of his own. Dark clouds had rolled in overhead, and thunder could be heard, threatening to rain as the two elves made their way cautiously towards the drop point. They were just a few feet away from the entrance when Sera suddenly spoke up. “Hold on... I was expecting a village or something. The people that leave me stuff don’t trek out to places like this. Give me a city, and I’ll give you a tour, but—surprise, surprise—I don’t know stupid woods or ruins.”  

“And unfortunately, these woods are not familiar to me either.”  

Sera scoffed. “That’s great innit?!”  

Their banter was soon cut short when the shuffling of feet through mud caught their attention. Thestral snorted, tossing his head and champing his fangs in wariness. Approaching the two was a human man. The man was acting strangely, constantly looking over his shoulder then back at the elves. He waved his hands in the air, showing that he was unarmed. Solas and Sera spared a glance at each other in confusion before the mage helped the rogue down from the saddle all while the man was shouting about someone named Harmond ordering him to intercept them. Before the two could even question what was going on, two arrows protruded through the raving man’s chest and Thestral screeched, rearing up and nearly toss the mage off had he not readjusted himself in the saddle. Several men suddenly emerged from the brush and the apostate exhaled sharply through his nose. And of course, things go sour. As they always do . He thought as he brandished his staff. He called out for Sera to stay close before the air turn frigid.  

Sera, however, ignored the mage and threw her daggers, each one hitting a warrior in the shoulder and head. She laughed as she started to rush forward with another pair of daggers when their attackers suddenly stopped moving, their bodies encased in a thick layer of ice. The city elf approached a frozen rogue and rapt the hilt of her blade on his head earning a soft clink. The mage dropped down from the saddle and nodded at his handiwork then tilted his head at the city elf who looked irritated. “What?”  

“Why must you mages always use magic-y shit?” She grumbled.  

Solas tilted his head. “Why must you use daggers or a bow for that matter?”  

“I... well... Shut it!”  

“I was not aware the Inquisitor was personally involved! This is a tragic misunderstanding!” Another voice joined in on the conversation. The two watched as a noble strolled over to the pair, hands held up in front of him. “Let’s all sheath our swords, you walk out, and we’ll conduct this like business!”  

“You started it!”  

Solas gripped Sera’s hand gently and shook his head before lowering his weapon. Reluctantly, the Red Jenny did the same. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” The noble said calmly, lowering his hands as well. “We identified the confusion, and we worked past it. I’m Lord Pel Harmond. I do hope, Inquisitor, that you continue to respond to reason. After all, your choice of company is hardly virtuous.”  

Sera bit her lip in amusement when Solas felt his brow twitch in annoyance. First bandits mistook him for the Inquisitor, now this human did the same. “You wish to speak with me, yet you attacked a friend of my ally? That does not exactly sow good faith.” Solas stated deciding to use the situation to his advantage. “This ambush was your doing, was it not? Or am I mistaken?”  

“Granted, it wasn’t a direct attack, but the first move was hers and, apparently, yours.” Harmond explained with a shrug. “Honestly, previous to this very moment, I thought you’d also been tricked by these Red Jennies. Despite your foreign nature, as Inquisitor, you are a social peer. I attacked them on behalf of us both.”  

Solas glowered at the man’s choice of words. Foreign nature , he thought icily. Just because I am Elvhen . “Arse-biscuit!” Sera barked at the human. “Least Droopy here has manners!” Hearing the rogue defending him was a genuine surprise to Solas. Most of the time he had dealt with her, she was always the one mocking her ancestors’ culture and history. Maybe, underneath that veil of piss and vinegar, there was as a trace of the Elvhen in here... Just a trace.  

“Quite...” Harmond scrunched his nose slightly in disgust at Sera then turned his attention back to Solas. “Inquisitor? Herald. I don’t want to be your enemy. I am barely invested in being hers. If you are willing to recognize an opportunity, we could be exceptional partners.”  

Solas’ frown deepened. He stated to the man that Sera had informed him about an incident occurring in the area of Verchiel. Harmond rubbed his throat sheepishly. “If you mean bettering my wealth and positioning , I am always seeking that.” When Sera countered the noble’s words by stating his endeavor was getting innocent people hurt, Harmond sighed in defeat. A noble woman by the name of Lady Chelle Morveau and him were jockeying for the land south of Verchiel. To claim land, he stated, one must populate it. His people encouraged hers to leave. “Her people answered in kind. Et cetera. Really, it was all terribly standard displacement until your troops seemed to change the balance. Well played, my friend. Well played.”  

“As I see it, I have plenty of able allies.” Solas stated gesturing to the city elf beside him. “What exactly can you contribute to the Inquisition?”  

“Because a leader needs such information to make informed decisions. My family has ties across lower Ferelden. Our presence in Orelais is recent, which is why I resorted to subterfuge. We have militia elsewhere, and they can be made expendable for your purposes.” The apostate did not appreciate the fact that the man called his militia expendable, and he subtly clenched the grip on his staff. “And what I want in return for exchanging the valuable knowledge I possess; I wish to gain access. Your diplomat, Lady Montilyet, was wisely chosen. She knows a wise acquisition. Or perhaps can be made to see one.”  

“The servants you killed, they did nothing except talk about what was going on.” Solas snarled, ice radiating along his fingertips. “They were friends to my companion here.”  

“True as that may be, You’re the one who empowered them. Made their complaints a threat. Perhaps you should have warned them about talking to  you .” Spat the noble. Solas’ eyes gave off a dangerous gleam. Elgar’nan had said the same thing once to him... The apostate glanced at Sera and when she saw him nod his head towards the noble, her eyes glittered excitedly. She threw her knife, watching it bounce off his chest as the flat end hit his clothes and fell to his feet. Harmond, amused, knelt down to pick up the blade then foolishly held the sharp end towards him. “Now, what was the point of that?”  

Sera gave the dagger a kick and it embedded itself into the man’s groin causing him to topple over on the ground, his face contorted in a silent scream. The city elf practically went to town on the human’s face. “Mother pusbucket frigging bastard shitebag pissface! Eat it, you lop-eared, son of an arse-nut rot-suck piece of… ugh!” She was about to swing her fist once more when Solas grabbed her wrist. “What?!”  

“I think you’re done, da’len .” He said nodding at the bloody pulp beneath her. “At this point you’re making wine.”  

“Eww... that just makes it worse...” The city elf groaned, shaking her hands free of blood, even accepting a rag from the apostate. “Friends, Egghead. Thanks for this. Better you than his lot.”  

~~~~~~~~  

They returned to Skyhold just in time for the storm that had been holding itself back began to unleash its burden upon the area. Solas had dropped Thestral off back at the stables and made his way back to the tavern with Sera. The two found a good corner in the back to enjoy a drink. Well, Sera had ale while Solas enjoyed a nice warm cup of hot lemon water. “Hey, Solas. Know what?” The city elf smiled at him, and he quirked his brow warily only for them to receed up his head at the next words leaving her mouth. “Thanks. Felt good to stomp the smile off that pisshead’s face. It doesn’t go bad like that often, yeah? But when it does, they deserve it.”  

“As risky as it was, it was worth the price.” Solas stated as he took a drink then chuckled. “Though I do recommend keeping it in the Inquisition and I am certain the Inquisitor will continue to support you.”  

“Even though this puckered around us?” The city elf asked wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  

He nodded. “Despite our vast differences and even greater oppositions in opinions of Elvhen culture, you are truly a great ally and I’m certain the Inquisitor would love to have you continue staying with the Inquisition.”  

“Ohhh. No, we have… too much in common, yeah? Because we both like women?” Sera smirked teasing at the elf who frowned then he blushed as she continued her rant. “Well, you are all up in Inquisi-tit's skirt, yeah? Can’t fault you for that. Lovely thing she is, but not my type. So… right. Not letting you take back the staying part, though.”  

And there’s the insufferable woman ... Solas merely finished his drink in silence unaware that Amanatha, Varric and Dorian were watching the exchange. The Inquisitor and Dorian held out their palms to the dwarf who grumbled, rummaging into his shirt and plopped a small pouch of gold each into the awaiting hands. He shot Spitfire and Sparkles a glare before smirking and the trio returned to the main castle.  

Chapter Text

The next few weeks had been chaotic. Amanatha had passed judgement upon Erimond after receiving a majority vote to have the man executed. Then the poor elf had to deal with an assassination attempt on Josephine that led to an encounter with the House of Repose. Amanatha opted to have Leliana eliminate the contract they were honoring and any copies she found as opposed to having Josie attempt to elevate the family trying to kill her. The elf had a hunch that even if her ambassador would succeed, the family who set the assassination in the first place would still have her killed to get rid of loose ends. Currently, she was with Varric trying to convince the dwarf to write the sequel to his romance serial Swords and Shields . Varric glanced up at Spitfire in disbelief when he received the news. 

“Apologies, Spitfire but I must have heard you wrong.” The dwarf laughed shaking his head. “It sounded like you said Cassandra read my books.” 

The elf nodded with a smirk. “I did indeed. She is a huge fan.” 

“You sure we’re talking about the same Cassandra?” He asked still trying to wrap his head around the reveal. She nodded her head. “Tall, grumpy Seeker? Likes stabbing things?” Another nod. “Well, shit... Wait, did you say the romance serial? She’ll be waiting a while, then. I haven’t finished it and wasn’t planning to. That book is easily the worst I’ve ever written. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink.” 

“Oh, come on Varric!” Amanatha laughed, leaning against the wall next to the crackling fire. “Cassandra’s hooked on it!” 

The dwarf laughed shaking his head, staring at the flames in contemplation. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before he flashed the Inquisitor a devious smirk. “So… you want me to finish writing the latest issue of my worst serial. For Cassandra. That’s such a terrible idea; I have to do it. On one condition: I get to be there when you give her the book.” 

“Oh, that was the plan.” 

Apparently, the next morning, Varric actually finished it having been given the right incentive. He approached the Inquisitor as she was finishing her breakfast and held up the finished copy. The two grinned at each other before making their way to the training yard where Cassandra was doing her usual warm-up. The Seeker smiled at the sight of the woman, then frowned when she spotted the dwarven author behind her. She sheathed her blade and warily approached the duo, inquiring what was going on. Varric took the first step forward, holding the book in his hand, stating that he had a peace offering for the whole Hawke debacle. Cassandra glanced at the elf woman noting the smug smirk on her face. “This is your doing...” 

“Oh, you’re damn right.” Amanatha grinned. “Do you really think I’d miss this?” 

“Well, if you’re not interested, you’re not interested. Still needs editing, anyhow.” Varric shrugged his shoulders turning his back to Cassandra. He had only taken three steps when he heard the Seeker order him to stop and he smirked, giving Amanatha a wink watching the Inquisitor struggle to keep from snickering. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder. “You’re probably wondering what happens to the knight-captain after the last chapter...” 

The Seeker gasped. “Nothing should happen to her. She was falsely accused!” 

“Well, it turns out the guardsman...” Varric began, his smug grin only growing further when the Seeker snatched the book from his fingers faster than a horse with an apple and hissed at him, not wanting any spoilers. “This is the part where you thank the Inquisitor. I don’t normally give sneak peaks, after all.” 

Amanatha couldn’t stop the snicker from escaping as Cassandra grumbled a faint ‘thank you’ before wandering off back to her quarters to do some reading. Varric and the elf glanced at each other, and they were both thinking the exact same thing. “Totally worth it?” She asked the dwarf who bellowed in laughter. Oh, yes. Totally worth it. 

That evening, Amanatha was in the rotunda admiring another one of Solas’ paintings. The first one depicted what could only be described as the Breach when it occurred. The second one had four wolves and the Inquisition’s symbol above them like the moon. She deduced that the four wolves were her, Solas, Cassandra and Varric when they first met however she also theorized that it could have been her, Leliana, Cullen and Josephine when they formed the Inquisition, but she later assumed it was her first guess. The third panel described her and Dorian’s ordeal through Redcliffe when she dealt with Alexius and helped the mages. She was surprised that behind the image of Alexius were two depictions of the castle. The one on the left was dark and dreary while the one on the right was bright and colorful. Both signifying the possible future and the current future. Amanatha shuddered at the fourth panel. It showed Corypheus destroying Haven. She didn’t dwell on that section for two long, gripping her left wrist as though she could still feel the sting of him grabbing her hand. The current panel that was recently finished revealed the events of what transpired at Adamant. She saw the Grey Wardens’ emblem away from what looked to be a rendition of the fort, symbolizing their exile from southern Thedas. At the top of the fresco was what could only be described as the Black City encompassed by a ring of many eyes, representing the Ancient Fear Demon and the Fade. 

“Admiring my work, ma vhenan ?” A voice whispered in her ear. 

It might as well have been a shout for the way Amanatha jumped in alarm and quickly spun around to find the Elvhen mage behind her. “I- yes actually.” She cleared her throat, her hand over her heart as though to prevent it from leaping out of her chest. “Your style is rather intriguing. It is straight to the point, yet the colors add more depth almost as though the decisions made impacted the art.” 

“I was not aware that you had an eye for art, but you are quite correct in all your assumptions.” 

Her eyes flicked over to him. “I do have another question.” 

He tilted his head, his ears twitching ever so slightly that the Inquisitor almost missed it. “Ask.” 

“Whose story are you writing? The Inquisition’s?” She inquired before turning her gaze to her left hand. “Or mine?” 

Solas rested a hand on her shoulder. “A bit of both. You lead the Inquisition and as such the frescos depict your story as the Inquisitor as well as what you have done so far. Now, it’s late. You should get some rest. I shall accompany you to your room.” 

Once he left her alone, Amanatha began her usual routine in getting ready for bed then once bathed and dressed, the Inquisitor climbed into bed, the only light illuminating the room coming from the roaring fire in the fireplace. She drifted off easily enough, curled up under the fur blankets and the crackling fire in the hearth was a soothing lullaby to her ears. As her eyelids closed fully, she swore she heard the fluttering of wings overhead. She took a breath, exhaled and allowed herself to fall into the Fade’s embrace. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

As she opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar area and luckily in her draconic form. She was in a dense forest but it was incredibly different compared to her home in the Emerald Graves. Instead of towering redwoods, birches and firs, she found herself under equally massive trees such as lupuna, mahogany, ironwood, cocoa trees and even humbia canopy trees. The air tasted moist and there was humid heat to it too. She inhaled deeply, sweet, invigorating scents invading her senses. Carefully, she wandered about the forest floor, her eyes catching a variety of birds and wildlife. She growled slightly when she spotted several large black spiders crawling over her paws before proceeding towards a river. She was uncertain as to why she was here. Suddenly, she heard something. A flittering sound, like wings beating too fast followed by a series of playful little chirps. The dragon turned her head and found three little hummingbirds hovering before her. The largest of the group had vibrant purple and blue feathers with a hint of emerald, green on the wing tips. The second one was smaller than the first and it had a purple face but a pale earthy green body. The last was the smallest, probably the pair’s offspring and it was odd compared to the pair. The little one had purple markings on its body, but the rest of its feathers were a white gold. Its eyes, like the largest and like her were a blue green. She tilted her head, a curious croon leaving her throat as she brought her nose to the small avian creatures. The tip of her nose had just barely touched the long needle like nose of the largest hummingbird only to watch all three of them fly away at an alarming speed.   

Amanatha ran after them, unable to fly without her wings slicing through the woods. She weaved around many large trunks, leapt over many fallen logs and skid through a winding river until the largest hummingbird perched himself upon a branch at her eye level. He tilted his head, a series of soft little chirps leaving its throat, almost as if he were calling to her directly. She furrowed her brow. She felt that she could understand the creature, but the voice sounded too far away to comprehend the words. The bird extended a wing towards an opening in the thick brush, so she decided to take a peek. She spotted an island far out from the shore of a beach. Amanatha allowed her draconic eyes to focus on the island and she spotted a small shack where the purple-faced hummingbird hovered about but before she could even take a step closer, the large hummingbird flew in front of her eyes and fluttered to the left at an incredible speed, only stopping once to glance at the dragon, urging her to follow once more.   

“Where are you taking me?” She asked the bird.  

The hummingbird led her to a large wall of ice and proceeded to land on her head when she, too, stopped. He chirped again, pointing his beak towards the wall of ice. It wasn’t natural. That much Amanatha could deduce but there were also humans in strange black and white war paint patrolling the area. There was another human, larger, almost as tall as a qunari warrior wearing a strangely crafted animal skull. The bird chirped once more but Amanatha could not fully understand him. The only thing she picked up on was the name Hakkon.  

“Who is Hakkon?”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“How long has she been like this?” Solas inquired as he stood next to Josephine and Cassandra.  

The elf had been pulled from his studies late in the afternoon when the Seeker informed him that the Inquisitor had not awaken from her quarters. Solas was not entirely worried. Some Dreamers would occasionally wander longer in the Fade then most mages but considering how she sensitive she was, he believed it would not hurt for him to monitor the Dalish. Currently, the trio was standing around the bed where Amanatha was sleeping quite soundly, no signs of distress or pain eminent on her face. “We are not certain.” Josephine said as she glanced at the Seeker. “We were supposed to discuss what we were going to do with the issue in the Exalted Plains that you two managed to take care of on your own.”  

Solas brushed a lock of hair from Amanatha’s face, green Fade magic flickering from his fingertips only to be swatted away by a gold wisp that descended from the canopy and sparked curiously at him. Cassandra almost reached for her blade when the Fade Expert shot her a glare. “Peace, Cassandra. This is not a demon.” He stated matter of fact. “It is a Spirit of Faith and it appears to be the one who pulled her into the Fade.” 

“How can you be certain?”  

Solas exhaled sharply. “Because if it was a demon, Amanatha would have immediately disposed of it and we would have found evidence of it in the room.” He held out his hand to the spirit and felt the orb bounce into his hand. “Although, I will admit this particular spirit seems to be rather fond of the Inquisitor and wants to show her something.” 

“Can you join her and see what it wants?” Cassandra asked and Solas frowned. 

“That would not be wise. The main reason is that this dream is not hers, but the spirit’s. If I try to enter the same dream as her without this spirit’s permission, I could harm the Inquisitor’s mind in the process.” The orb of light bounced again as though confirming the apostate’s assumption.  

Josephine tapped her feather quill to her chin. “Why not ask to join?” 

Solas was about to answer when Cassandra suggested that they take care of the Inquisitor’s duties for the day. After all, the elf woman had been working nonstop since Adamant and had been exhausted lately. Even the Maker rested on the seventh day. Once the two women had left the room, Solas turned his attention back to the orb. Upon inquiring if the Inquisitor was safe, the Spirit bounced energetically. He took that as a yes. When he requested to join her, the spirit returned to the sleeping woman bouncing left to right. He interpreted that as a no. However, the little orb of light did not object to having him in the same room as the Inquisitor in case something occurred. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The male hummingbird chirped at her once more but again, the voice sounded too far away to fully comprehend. Before she could inquire any further, the creature flew straight towards the wall of ice, phasing through the solid barrier as though it were a ghost. When Amanatha attempted to follow, she let out a pained hiss as the icy barrier lashed out at her outstretched paw and encased it in ice. She licked her paw to try and thaw its cold prison. It worked, somewhat though her hand still burned from the intense cold. She was about to exhale a stream of fire when the smallest of the hummingbird family frantically flapped his tiny wings, urging her to stop. Though confused, Amanatha closed her maw, turned her head and snorted a plume of smoke before redirecting her attention back to the little bird. The little creature soon began to lead her towards strange metal statues. They appeared to be metal dragon heads though the horns reminded her of a tuning fork. She limped after the bird as it fluttered onwards.  

“You know, I have more questions than answers, falon.” She chuckled while climbing up a steep hill where the tiny bird was perched on yet another statue.  

Once near enough, the hummingbird flew off once more. They came across seven more of the strange looking devices with the final one appearing within a temple of some sorts. Before she could enter the main chamber, a barrier of magic blocked her path. Not wanting to repeat her mistake with the ice wall, the dragon backed away from the barrier and tilted her head in contemplation. She couldn’t dispel the barriers within the dream because it was merely a reflection of the waking world. Amanatha frowned, sitting on her haunches while still licking her injured paw. From what she could understand from her vision, there was an island that she needed to visit, a wall of ice blocking her path along with strangely dressed humans' intent on preventing anyone from proceeding and a series of statues that led to an abandoned temple. What it all meant to her was a mystery. Her thoughts were soon interrupted when the smallest hummingbird landed on her snout, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.   

“Seek out Bram Kenric.” The bird spoke nearly causing Amantha to recoil in alarm. She wasn’t expecting the hummingbird to speak nor was she expecting to understand it. She blinked once, then twice and noticed an amused look on the bird’s face before it continued. “Find out what happened to the First Inquisitor. Please find my father.”  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Amanatha awoke to the feeling of fingers combing through her hair and she let out a soft, pleased sigh. A familiar chuckle caused the young woman to shoot upright and she whipped her head around in confusion. When her eyes fell upon the elvhen man laying beside her, she let out a startled yelp, flailing off the bed. Solas shook his head as the woman scrambled to her feet, doing his best to suppress a smirk. She was frantically rushing to get herself ready for the day, muttering a series of curses as she began to draw a bath. Solas soon got up and grabbed the woman by the shoulders. “ Vhenan , be at ease. Your advisors have already taken care of your duties for yesterday. You were exhausted.” He tried to soothe Amanatha’s nerves.  

“Yesterday?” She repeated then felt her eyes widen. “Have I been asleep for that long?!” 

He nodded turning his back to allow her to proceed with her routine. “I’m afraid so.” He resisted the urge to turn his head when he heard the shuffling of fabric fall to the floor followed by the sound of water gently sloshing in the tub. “A Spirit of Faith pulled you into a dream the night before yesterday.” 

Amanatha ducked quickly under the warm soapy water then resurfaced and began washing her hair with peppermint oil. “That explains why the Fade appeared different to me when I went to sleep.” 

“Incidentally, might I ask what you saw in this dream of yours?” 

The woman took a bar of soap and began rubbing it against her skin. “I had a dream I was in the Frostbacks. I came across three hummingbirds.” She began as she massaged the soap into her skin then rinsed it off calmly. “They led me to a dilapidated cottage on an island of the coast, then they brought me to a wall of enchanted ice. I tried to dispel it but was met with some powerful resistance and I was forced to retreat. They finally brought me to an abandoned temple of sorts, following a trail of strange metal dragon head statues. But that was where the dream ended.” 

He stole a quick glance at Amanatha as she rose from her bath, wishing to catch a glimpse of her but quickly turned his head and pretended to occupy himself with readjusting the blankets on the bed. He heard more shuffling behind him and unable to resist turned his head only to find the woman had already gotten dressed in a tunic and breeches not dissimilar to his own save for the fact that the shirt was a dark blue and her pants and dark emerald-green. She took a comb and began brushing her ebony tresses while Solas waited patiently for her. He then recalled something he overheard while passing through the dining hall and cleared his throat. “Before the memory slips from my mind, I overhead Iron Bull saying that he had some information you might find rather interesting.” 

“Solas, are you trying to put Josephine and Leliana out of a job?” Teased the woman. 

He smirked as she turned her head towards him. “Not at all. I was merely passing through when I heard him mention it.” 

“Well, I’ll be sure to talk with him as soon as I finish meeting with my advisors.” Amanatha stated as she guided the mage out of her quarters. “I need to talk with Josephine about hiring a scholar to investigate more history on the First Inquisition.” 

Chapter Text

Amanatha jogged down the stairs leading to the training yard when she spotted Krem, Iron Bull’s second in command stumble backwards after being rammed by a shield bash. The Tevinter warrior grumbled as he found himself at the Dalish Inquisitor’s feet. Apparently, the one-eyed qunari was trying to teach his boy how to properly evade or perhaps how to execute a proper shield bash. The Tevinter was about to shoot back a witty retort when he tilted his head back noticing the shadow looming over him and he swallowed thickly, then he cleared his throat. “Oh! Hello, your Worship.” He said accepting the offered hand as Amanatha hauled the kid to his feet. She glanced at the qunari and smirked playfully.  

“Mind if I cut in?” Bull laughed at her request and nodded while watching Krem hobble over to a tree-stump to catch his breath. “Before we get down to business, I have a question for you.” 

“Alright, shoot.” 

“Why did I see Dorian hitting you with a stick a couple days ago?” 

The Iron Bull snorted out a snicker. “Qunari training exercise to master one’s fear.” 

“Ah... okay.” 

The qunari grinned mischievously. “You thought it was something kinky, didn’t you?” 

Amanatha shrugged. “I know something happened afterwards considering I found burnt burnt curtains along with Solas hanging out with Sera of all people and in the tavern, no less.” 

The Iron Bull cringed apologetically. “Didn’t realize we were being that loud. Then again, Dorian did set the curtains on fire...” The two shared a laugh before the qunari leaned against the large redwood and sighed. “I got a letter from my contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. Already verified it with Red.” 

Amanatha folded her arms over her chest before nodding her head to signal Bull to continue. The Ben-Hassrath have been gone over their agent’s reports. It seemed as though they didn’t like Corypheus or his Venatori at all. Something they and the Inquisition had in common. They also really hated red lyrium. The Inquisitor didn’t blame them. She was wary of the stuff. What caught her off-guard was what her qunari ally stated next. The Qunari were ready to work with them. Well, mainly her. Still, the Qunari and the Inquisition, joining forces was certainly news that left her speechless. However, as the shock wore off, Amanatha frowned slightly. This would be an unprecedented offer, if she believed it was legitimate. Which, at the moment, she did not. The Iron Bull seemed to share her sentiment. Ordinarily this would be the way to go. But since his people identified themselves. They weren’t screwing around with her.  

“Now, they discovered a massive red lyrium shipping operation off the Storm Coast.” 

“Let me guess, they want us to hit it together.” Amanatha inquired and the qunari chuckled softly. 

“I swear Boss, you would make a spectacular spymaster yourself with your scary powers of deductions.” He complimented. “But yes. Talked about bringing in one of their dreadnoughts.” 

“Always wanted to see one of those things in action!” Krem exclaimed in excitement before the one-eyed qunari shooed him to the tavern to get some water. 

Amanatha hummed thoughtfully. “My only thoughts are why the team up now? And what’s the catch?” 

“They’re worried about tipping the smugglers, so no army.” Iron Bull explained before pointing his thumb to himself. “So, it will be me, my Chargers, you, maybe some backup.” He then added that should Amanatha accept the alliance, which apparently was a term the Qunari rarely used, she would not only gain more intelligence from the Ben-Hassrath but also their navy dreadnoughts. In truth, Amanatha knew the advantages of having a naval power at her hands, but she noticed a faint trace of uncertainty on the Iron Bull’s face. She quirked a brow at him.  

“You don’t seem rather happy about this, Bull.” The elf observed calmly. “I thought the Qunari wanted to extend their reach to the whole world.” 

The qunari cringed and averted his gaze as he recalled the conversations the two shared on the Qun. “Yeah. Just didn’t think I’d see it...” He mumbled. “Look, the Qun answers a lot of questions. It’s a good life for a lot of people. But it’s a big change. And a lot of folks here wouldn’t do so well under that kind of life. I guess it’s not like we’re converting. This is just us joining forces against Corypheus. On that front, I think we’re good.” 

“While I am a little wary of accepting, I still think it would be beneficial for us both. At least until Corypheus is dealt with.” 

The Iron Bull grinned. “Good. I’ll pass on word to Cullen and Red. We can set up the meeting whenever you’re ready.” 

“Not so fast, falon.” Amanatha stopped the man before he could even attempt to move forward. “There is one more thing I need to know.” 

“Sure, Boss.” 

“Do your people know what I am?” 

The qunari shook his head. “Nope. They just know you are one hell of a mage. Didn’t want to risk having you roast my ass.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

To no one’s surprise, the Storm Coast was dealing with a downpour, but something wasn’t right. Despite the wind and torrential rain, Amanatha spotted lightning dancing through the clouds but that wasn’t what was odd. The violent energy never struck the ground. Once. The Dalisih woman made an odd little growl under her breath. She had a hunch that there was something watching them in the clouds. Her thoughts were interrupted when Cole and Solas flanked her from either side and Iron Bull trudged through the soaked grass along the trail from their camp. The qunari’s Chargers were also tailing after them as they made their way to a tent far out of sight from the Venatori camp half a mile away. The Inquisitor assumed that this was the drop point where they would be meeting Bull’s contact. They didn’t have to wait long for soon an elf with messy dark brown hair emerged from behind one of the trees and smiled. Amanatha’s eyes flashed in recognition as did Bull’s contact and before the man could give a greeting, the Inquisitor slugged him across the jaw much to the shock of everyone. 

“THAT was for stealing my dracolisk!” She snapped, rubbing her knuckles. 

“Didn’t know it was you that was the Inquisitor...” The elf groaned, rubbing his chin. “But... I deserved that...” 

“Gatt! Last I heard, you were still in Seheron!” Bull laughed, hauling his friend to his feet. “How do you the Inquisitor here?” 

“I may have stolen her mount when I was being pursued by soldiers in the Emerald Graves a few years ago... Managed to escape the soldiers but soon was thrown off the animal and had to trek back home by foot.” Gatt explained ducking slightly when the Inquisitor raised her fist once more as a warning. 

“You still owe me for that! Thestral had a limp for almost a month!” 

“And I will repay that debt... I promise, Inquisitor.” Gatt cringed apologetically before quickly changing the subject. “As for Seheron? They finally decided I’d calmed down enough to go back into the world. Anyway, it's great to see you again Hissrad.” 

Cole and Solas tilted their heads to the side curiously. “Hissrad?” 

“Under the Qun, we use titles, not names.” Bull clarified with a chuckle. “My title is Hissrad because I was assigned to secret work. You can translate it as Keeper of Illusions, or…” 

“Liar.” Gatt said bluntly and Iron Bull frowned. “It means liar.”  

The one-eyed qunari huffed indignantly. Gatt gestured for the group to follow him, and they descended into the lush overgrowth below. The elf informed the team that the qunari dreadnought was in the harbor but safely out view and range of the Venatori mages on board the smuggler ships. Amanatha and her companions needed to eliminate the Venatori camps resting along either side of a ravine leading into the channel. Once completed, they would light the bonfires with special flares made from qunari black powder to signal the dreadnought to attack and sink the smuggler ship. When the Inquisitor requested his thoughts, Bull silently growled. He never liked covering a dreadnought run. Too many ways for crap to go wrong. If the scouts underestimate enemy numbers, they were dead. If they couldn't lock down the Venatori mages, the ship was dead. Either way it was risky. 

“Unless you have an ace up your sleeve, Boss...” 

“Bull...” Solas and Amanatha growled in warning at the hint and the qunari shrugged his shoulders then wandered off to talk with his Chargers. Solas and Cole soon split off to resupply their potions leaving Amantha alone with a now nervous Gatt.  

“You and Iron Bull have a history it would seem.” She stated and the older elf grunted in acknowledgement. “How did you two meet?” 

Gatt scratched his neck in amusement. Apparently, the young man was a magister’s slave in Tevinter but when the idiot mage went to Seheron, Iron Bull and his men attacked the ship they were on, killed the magister and freed the young elf when he was a boy. When the Inquisitor inquired about his involvement with the Qun, Gatt couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. He had just seen a giant, horned warrior kill the magister who had hurt him. Of course, he did. Amanatha had a sad look on her face. He cocked his head to the side at her expression. However, unlike most people he encountered about their thoughts on the Qun, what she said actually struck a chord with him. 

“Well, a wolf follows its own path. The Qun may be something I dislike but that is only because I was not raised under it.” She said with a smile. “You were raised under it but even a pup yearns to see the world through different means. I do have another question.” 

Gatt motioned for her to proceed. “And that would be?” 

“Why Gatt, exactly? Was it a name Hissrad gave you?” 

The elf snorted. “Yeah. I had a temper. Bull’s nickname for me, Gatt comes from gaatlok, the explosive powder in Qunari canons. I was so angry when I was first freed. I wanted revenge. I wanted to find my family, still enslaved in Minrathous. I thought about leaving when the Qun didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. But I didn’t. Still, the name just stuck.” 

Amanatha felt her eyes widen slightly at the revelation. So, even those under the Qun struggled to follow it. Gatt further explained that the Qunari were always ready to listen, to teach. They cared for him as much as one of their own. And if he left, the parts of the Qun that he like were never going to change. Gatt nearly jumped when the Inquisitor patted his shoulder with a gentleness he had not felt since his early youth. She then left him to his thoughts, wandering towards Bull and his Chargers. It was then he noticed Cole trailing after her and Solas bearing a small smile as he too, joined the ranks. “The Inquisitor is... a strange woman.” Gatt muttered but found himself smiling too. “I like it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Once they’re down, send up your signal. That’ll let the dreadnought know it’s safe to come in.” Instructed the Iron Bull as his Chargers formed up around him. “Remember, you’re gonna want a volley to start, but don’t get suckered into fighting at range. They’ve got mages.” 

Krem smirked jabbing his thumb in the direction of their Dalish woman, who ironically was called Dalish. “Don’t worry, Chief. We got a mage of our own!” 

“I’m not a mage!” Dalish barked. 

“Just… pay attention, all right?” Bull sighed in exasperation. “The Vints want this red lyrium shipment bad.” 

Krem rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mother.” 

The qunari gave his second in command a light smack on the head with his fist, reminding the young man that his people didn’t have mothers. Krem rubbed his scalp calmly before reassuring his friend that he and the others would be just fine. Once they received their orders, the Chargers broke away from the group, Bull turned towards Amanatha and the others, nodding his head and brandishing his battleaxe. The Inquisitor turned towards Gatt and motioned for the elf to take point. Gatt drew his sword and slunk through the dense bushes leading up a hill. Amanatha and Gatt spotted two sentries with their backs to them. They shared a glance and quietly snuck up on their quarries. The two quickly grabbed the Venatori scouts, slit their throats and gently laid them down in the grass, hidden from view. 

“You gave your Chargers the easier target.” Gatt snorted softly as the other joined them. 

The qunari cocked his head to the side. “What makes you think that?” 

“Lower and farther down from the smugglers’ ship?” The Qun follower pointed out with a nod of his head. “It’s much less likely to be heavily defended. You always did enjoy having us do the heavy lifting.” 

The Iron Bull smirked as they systematically eradicated the first camp. Amanatha and Solas were briefly sifting through some papers before stuffing them into their satchels to be examined back at Skyhold. They were nearing a second encampment when Gatt whispered about expecting heavier resistance. Bull rolled his eyes. He narrowed his eye at the elf. “We’ve all done this a few times, Gatt.” 

Gatt threw a glare at the qunari. “You’ve been living outside the Qun for years now, Iron Bull. Just wanted to make sure your reflexes hadn’t gotten as soft as the rest of you.” 

“Ouch.”  

Amanatha made a low growl of annoyance before spotting a lone sentry on their left. She turned her head towards Solas. He watched her trace a lightning bolt then pointed at the sentry. The apostate glanced up at the lightning then saw her point at the sentry’s great sword. Catching her intentions, the mage slightly drew his staff and with a swift motion guided a bolt of lightning from the clouds onto the sentry’s blade. There was a crash of thunder that muffled the sound of the Venatori’s body hitting the ground and the flash of light provided Amanatha and the others cover from being seen. Once their vision cleared, Gatt finally took notice of Solas’ features and quirked his eyes in curiosity. He noticed the lack of tattoos on the man’s face. Sensing the young man’s eyes on him, Solas warily turned his attention to Gatt. 

“I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle?” He asked curiously. 

Solas frowned and gave a curt reply. “No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.” 

“Did I offend you somehow?” The young man asked in confusion. 

The apostate bared his teeth. “You joined the Qun.” 

Now it was Gatt’s turn to growl. “They rescued me from slavery.” 

“And put you into something worse.” Solas scoffed with a shake of his head. “A slave may always struggle for freedom. But you among the Qun have been taught not to think.” 

“Solas...” Amanatha said firmly and the mage stared at her. “Every wolf follows their own path. This is his. You may not like it, but you should respect his wishes.” 

“Ma nuvenin, ma vhenan.” He relented with a sigh as they pressed onwards though he still kept his distance from Gatt. 

They managed to eliminate the second camp with ease. Cole had finished off a rogue trying to ambush Gatt from behind and seemed to be struggling keeping his head down. The elf shook his head, shaking off the excess water accumulating in his hair. Amanatha was about to check up on the spirit when Cole suddenly locked eyes with Gatt. “Heart hammering, brush of breath at the base of my back. He licks his thumb before turning the page. He never finished. You don’t have a demon inside of you. You don’t have to wonder anymore.” The spirit of Compassion whispered, and the elf flinched then backed away from Cole. Amanatha reached out and placed a soothing hand on the spirit’s shoulder.  

“Cole, I know you’re trying to help but I don’t think he’s quite ready to face that hurt yet.” She said softly then looked at Gatt. “Apologies, my friend. Cole here is a Spirit of Compassion and tries to mend the hurts of others. He sensed a memory within you that caused pain and wanted to help you, not hurt you.” 

When she, Solas and Cole were out of earshot, Gatt leaned close to Iron Bull. “How can you work with a demon?” 

“Cole’s alright.” Bull reassured his friend. “Besides, Boss there has a tight leash on him.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

They had just finished eradicating the last of the camps when Amanatha spotted Krem and his team on the opposite hill in the distance. It appeared that they were successful as well. Gatt was busy working on the flare while Amanatha and Bull kept vigil. Solas and Cole kept an eye on their flank. A sharp whistle echoed from the bonfire as a red orb shot up into the sky. They heard the sound of a bell from the water and like a ghost from the fog a large ship began to close in on a small sloop. There was a muffled explosion as two cannonballs launched from the dreadnought and slammed into the center of the ship and its side causing it to sink immediately. They could see the Chargers cheering as well at the marvelous sight. The victory was short-lived for Amanatha spotted Venatori reinforcements at the banks making a beeline towards the Chargers. 

“Crap.” The qunari hissed. 

“That’s a lot of Venatori... Look at all of them!” Amanatha stated with worry. “The Chargers can’t stand against a force like that.” 

Bull growled in agreement. “No, they can’t.” 

“They need to hold that position, Bull!” Gatt said urgently. “If they don’t, the Venatori will retake it, and the dreadnought is dead. You’d be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari! You’d be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth!” 

“I am afraid that is the least of our concerns...” Solas stated pointing at the sky. 

A loud roar shattered the sky as lightning crashed along the water’s surface and a massive entity descended from the heavens. The beating of large wings could be heard, and the crackling of lightning could be seen as a dragon twice the size of the dreadnought appeared, her screech deafening the area around them. It was a Stormrider and not just any Stormrider. It was the Gamordan Stormrider. One of the oldest dragons in known history! Worse yet, this dragon seemed to think the dreadnought was a threat to its territory. The Inquisitor ignored Solas’ protests and in another flash of lightning, the sapphire dragon made its appearance. Now, Amanatha had no choice but to show what she was however, the question remained: Who would she save? 

“You need to save the dreadnought, Inquisitor!” Gatt urged, not even caring about the new information.  

“If she does that, then my men will die.” The qunari lamented. 

“With all you’ve given the Inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath think you’ve betrayed us already! I stood up for you, Hissrad! I told them you would never become Tal-Vashoth!” The elf snapped in earnest. 

The Iron Bull growled at Gatt. “They’re my men!” 

“I know.” Gatt said mournfully. “Believe me, I know it hurts but you need to do what’s right, Hissrad… for this alliance, and for the Qun.” 

Amanatha whipped her head between the dreadnought and the Chargers. She watched as the Stormrider released barrage after barrage of lightning on the ship. At the same time, Venatori mages began charging their magic and the Chargers, already exhausted from their siege from earlier, weakly brandished their weapons, ready to defend the hill they stood upon. When she saw the conflicted look in both Gatt and Bull’s eyes, Amanatha knew she had to make the decision for them. Then another idea flashed through her mind. Maybe she didn’t have to choose. She dove down towards the Venatori in the gorge and let out a pained screech as she took the brunt of their attacks. The Stormrider ceased her attacks then whipped her head towards the sound of distress, witnessing the Venatori attacking what looked to be a youngling. The beast stared at the dreadnought then back at the hatchling and abandoned its attack on the ship, choosing to aid the injured hatchling below. The two dragons fought back-to-back, snapping and spitting orbs of electricity at the Venatori. 

“Clever girl,” Solas blinked in astonishment. “She’s small enough to be mistaken as a youngling and triggered the dragon’s maternal instincts.” 

Bull laughed as the dreadnought disappeared back into the fog while the Chargers took the opportunity to escape. Once the Venatori stragglers were dealt with, the Stormrider licked her wounds allowing Amanatha to clean the blood from the elder dragon’s scales as thanks. Solas and the others watched the exchange between the two dragons then ducked when the Stormrider took to the skies now that her territory was no longer threatened. The Inquisitor then brought her head down to her friends and made a chirring growl. “Let’s go home.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a couple days since the raid on the Venatori smuggling operation. Amanatha was watching Bull train with Krem when they spotted Gatt approaching. He bowed his head before the Inquisitor who gave him a brisk wave. She then ducked when Krem was launched over her having failed to block the qunari’s shield bash properly. She cringed hearing the man grunt from the impact. They exchanged a brief greeting before Gatt got straight to business while Krem groaned about seeing stars before his eyes. “I bring good news and bad news. But first, the good news. My superiors have named you basalit-an. It means “respected one.” We would be honored to join you in the fight against Corypheus. You’ll have Qunari support on the seas, as well as our full intelligence network.” Gatt began with pride.  

“While I am honored with the title and the chance to work alongside the qunari, I must ask... what is the bad news?” 

Gatt shifted on his feet uncomfortably before turning his head towards Bull. “Hissrad… marasas shokra.” The elf turned to the Dalish who stared at him with confusion as did Iron Bull. “Iron Bull will no longer be receiving any more Ben-Hassrath reports. Our people have declared him Tal-Vashoth... Instead, you will be receiving information from me and my superiors have requested that I remain here to maintain the flow of information.” 

The qunari merely frowned and looked away, clearly hurt by the information but his gaze softened when Krem finally awoke from his dazed stupor. Amanatha placed a hand on Bull’s shoulder before glancing at Gatt. “Can trust the two of you to get along until Corypheus is dealt with?” 

“Of course, your Worship.” Gatt said before lifting his gaze to his friend.  

Bull exhaled sharply before a smirk danced across his face. “Well, I still have my Chargers... that’ll be enough for now.” 

Chapter Text

While the Inquisitor was busy with Gatt and Iron Bull, Solas took the opportunity to have a private meeting with Cassandra, Cullen and Josephine. True, he knew Amanatha would be angry and hurt for one of her teammates talking with her council behind her back, but this was one time that he deemed it necessary to keep her out of the loop. For her safety and the rest of the Inquisition. He had just finished explaining to the trio before him about the soul binding and saw the wave of emotions dancing across their faces. Cullen had a look of shock and was tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. Cassandra had a look of horror as did Josephine. This news definitely made things more dire and complicated. Amanatha was the leader of the Inquisition and Solas was their lead expert on all things related to the Fade. While under normal circumstances, losing the mage was not nearly as devastating as losing the Herald who bore the mark to close the rifts, but seeing as they were now linked where if one fell, the other would follow and that would make combat even more dangerous. Furthermore, they couldn’t keep the Dalish woman or Solas confined in the castle without either of them suffering from cabin fever and there was only so much they could do in the Fade as dreamers.  

“And the Inquisitor does not know that the two of you are bound?” Josephine finally spoke up after finding her voice through the shock.  

Solas shook his head, his hands held behind his back. “I believe she has an inkling that we are linked but is unaware that we can feel and receive wounds inflicted upon us or die should one of us endure a fatal blow.”  

“But you mentioned earlier that you have a means of reversing the link, did you not?” The Seeker inquired curiously. “How did you come by it?”  

“During one of my explorations of the Fade. A spirit of Wisdom informed me of a well in Minrathous belonging to the Elvhen God, Elgar’nan. It has properties that can remove bonds such as this.” Solas explained. “Or at least, can remove the fatality of the curse.”  

Cullen stood up straight. “Then I shall send my men to gather contents from this well.”  

“I would much rather you keep your men here to aid the Inquisitor.” The mage said rather quickly. “I have traveled alone before and can easily avoid being detected by the Venatori and other enemies.”  

The trio turned their heads, staring at each other for a few moments before returning their gaze to the apostate. “But what about Amanatha? What if she requests your presence or aid?”  

That was something Solas had anticipated. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand along his chin. As he thought, he sensed Cole wandering around the castle and immediately came up with a perfect cover. “Simply tell her that I had seen Cole feeling restless and decided to take him north to mend the hurt. She will understand the meaning.” The mage offered. That, and to prevent her from using Cole to find me during this journey . The humans exchanged concerned glances once more. None of them enjoyed the idea of hiding things from Amanatha. Not when she had been so forth coming about herself, but they agreed with Solas. The bond needed to be removed.  

“We’ll keep her busy as well.” Josephine stated. “Perhaps I can finally drag her to Orelais for her fitting finally.”  

“That reminds me,” Solas began as he quickly departed from the council room. The ambassador tilted her head in confusion, which only doubled when the elf returned with a large piece of parchment. He handed it to Josephine. “I believe this will best suit the Inquisitor.”   

“I will endeavor to make it a reality... IF I can manage to catch the elusive Dalish.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~  

Once Solas collected Cole, he made his way passed the stables only to flinch when Thestral growled at him suspiciously. The mage just kept walking with the spirit in tow. Unfortunately, his departure did not go unnoticed. Iron Bull had just finished talking with his Chargers when he spotted the apostate. He narrowed his eye as he also spotted the kid tailing after him. A shadow overhead caught his attention and smirked. It would seem the Boss spotted the mage during her patrol flight around Skyhold. Lately, Amanatha had taken it upon herself to aid Cullen by providing watch from the skies since the guards had limited vision. Solas and Cole were halfway across the stone bridge when the mage tensed at the sight of the massive shadow descending upon them. Amanatha landed near the gate leading out towards the roads and she folded her wings close to her body. Her blue-green eyes glittered in the afternoon sun as she greeted her companions.   

“Now this is a strange sight.” She chuckled, “You two hardly ever leave Skyhold unless you are wanting to join me on a mission.”  

“Solas asked me to come with him to help mend the hurt.”  

“Hurt?”  

Solas quickly intervened. “Yes. I had noticed that he had mended many of the soldiers' wounds and hurts at the infirmary and had grown restless. I believed it would be a good idea to help some of the villages near Val Royeaux.”  

Amanatha stared at Solas with suspicion. She caught a brief look of worry dance along the apostate’s face. Or did she feel it? She shook her head. Whatever it was, she saw it plain as day that her Fade Expert was hiding something. In fact, she was more than certain he knew that she knew that he was hiding something. The dragon was about to open her maw when Cullen’s voice rang out from the battlements, calling for her report. She had taken her eyes off Solas for just a second to lift her head towards her commander when the Elvhen mage quickly snatched Cole by the shoulder and ushered him off the bridge with him. By the time Amanatha turned her attention back to the mage, she growled realizing he had already vanished. She sighed before climbing down from the tower, reverted back to her original form and made her way towards Cullen to give him her report.  

However, while the Inquisitor was giving her report to Cullen, she noticed then man had a nervous look on his face. When she inquired what was wrong, the commander mere tried waving off her concern as him just itching to find Samson. Templars were not good liars. Even though Cullen was telling a half truth, the Inquisitor could tell he was hiding something. Unfortunately, the woman did not have the chance to press the man further for no sooner did she lean over her commander’s desk, Josephine barged in and grabbed the Dalish woman by her collar then proceeded to drag her back into the castle stating that the tailor had arrived for her fitting. Amanatha felt her face drain in horror. She had forgotten about her formal fitting for the masquerade ball at the Winter Palace! She loathed wearing dresses!  

“NOPE!” Amanatha nearly screeched as she slipped free from the Antivan’s grasp and tried to make a break for it through the rotunda.  

Josephine shrieked indignantly. “I suppose we have to do this the hard way...”  

To her despair, Amanatha found Dorian blocking the exit leading into the main hall, Gatt and Iron Bull had flanked behind Josephine to prevent the Inquisitor from escaping back the way she came, and Cassandra and Blackwall were stationed near the stairs. The elf whipped her head around for any possible means of escape. She knew she wouldn’t be able to handle Gatt or Bull let alone Cassandra and Blackwall. They were all warriors after all and two of them had experience dealing with slippery rogues. “Come now, my dear,” Dorian began as he leaned against the doorway. “You’re obviously outnumbered in this matter. Just accept it with dignity and grace.”  

“How about a hearty ‘fuck no’?” Countered the elf slowly backing up towards one of the blank frescos, eyes watching her companions slowly try to corner her. “I don’t do formal attire.”  

Bull was the first to lunge at her and the nimble elf vaulted over the qunari’s shoulder and used his mass to leap onto the banister of the library and balanced on the beam like a cat. There was a flurry of footsteps trailing after her, but she smirked. Experienced warriors her friends may be, they never quite had to deal with an elf like her before. She waited for just the right moment and once all her companions were at the door, Amanatha gave them all a playful salute, dropped down back into the rotunda and practically skipped out of the room only to run into Dorian who merely scooped the woman up, slung her over his shoulder and proceeded to carry her to her quarters with Josephine, Vivienne and the tailor. Dorian had more than enough experience dealing with mischief makers such as Sera, so it wasn’t that hard to figure out the Inquisitor’s intentions.  

Blackwall shook his head as he looked at the others. “Her Ladyship really hates formal attire...”  

“She certainly made a spectacle out of it.” Cassandra huffed when they heard a series of Elvhen curses echo within the hallway.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Solas cringed feeling multiple waves of irritation, frustration and finally a wave of defeat and shook his head. He watched as Cole wandered around the road before returning to the mage’s side. The spirit’s gaze kept wandering around, gazing at the leaves swaying in the wind or the wild deer that were grazing nearby. He then glanced at Solas from under the brim of his hat. He sensed a faint sorrow lingering from his aura and Cole tentatively reached out, curling his fingers along the sleeves of Solas’ tunic causing the elf to stop. The apostate turned his head slightly to give the spirit his attention. At first, Cole seemed to struggle with his words but the mage was patient. Soon, the spirit found his voice.  

“I’m sorry your friend died...” He whispered, keeping his head low.  

Solas patted the boy’s hand. “Thank you, Cole.”  

“I didn’t know there were spirits of wisdom.” The spirit said curiously. “Are there other kinds too?”  

“Hmhm, yes, although they are few in number. Spirits form as a reflection of this world and its passions. We will never lack for spirits of rage, or hunger, or desire. The world gives them plenty to mirror.” The mage said sagely before closing his eyes. “The gentler spirits are far more rare. We can ill afford the loss of even one spirit of wisdom, or faith... or even compassion.”  

Cole remained silent for a moment then he tilted his head up at the mage. “Can I help you? You healed my hurt, but yours is old inside, vast across the Veil.”  

“I am fine, Cole.”   

“Then why did you not tell her yet?”  

Solas stopped mid-step. “On which do you mean?”  

“Both.”  

The mage gripped his staff a little tighter. “It is not her burden to bear.”  

Cole frowned at this. He walked a few steps ahead and blocked the mage’s path. “ Old pain, shadows forgotten from dreams too real. This side is slow and heavy, but here is what can change. Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn’t save. He carries necessary deaths .” Solas held up a hand to calmy urge the spirit to cease but Cole shook his head. “ Alone, wandering in the cold. Whispers of hate, of anger and pain linger on her ears. Voices from the Old tempting her to follow their ways. She cries for someone, anyone to hear her. Someone who understands her. Someone who can tell she is not a monster. But then I hear his voice and I feel safe. I see his smile and I reflect it back. He forgets that he can lean on me too ... She won’t turn you away.”  

“Let us focus on removing the fatality of the bond.”  

Cole followed after Solas. “Will you tell her when we return?”  

“I will endeavor to try...”  

~~~~~~~~~  

Amanatha grumbled softly as she stood before a large mirror with Josephine and Vivienne standing behind her while the tailor took her measurements. She held out her arm when instructed and sighed hearing the scribbling of charcoal on parchment. Then she spotted a figure standing in the mirror and turned her head slightly. Her eyes widened in shock and a large smile graced her features. Standing in the back of the room, with his own damn smirk on his face, was Atthon! Josephine let out a startled but small squeak. No one had heard the elf walk in, let alone hear him announce himself. Just as the Antivan ambassador was about to call for the guards, the Inquisitor let out a playful laugh.  

“ Andaran atish’an , Father.”   

Atton chuckled. “ Ma ema ma serannas, ashalan .”  

“Oh, this gentleman is your father.” Josephine exclaimed bowing her head hastily. “Um... uh, how does one say an apology?”  

“ Ir abelas .” Atthon commented but shrugged his shoulders. “But I am the one who decided to drop by unannounced. Though, I must say I am impressed that you managed to subdue Amanatha for a fitting.”  

“She certainly put up a fuss.” Vivienne stated as she flashed the Inquisitor a slight scolding. “Is this normal Dalish behavior?”  

Atthon frowned. “Is it? I am not certain for Amanatha and I are not considered true Dalish. But I wouldn’t expect an Enchantress to the Orelesian Court to know such knowledge.”  

Vivenne huffed slightly but decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Atthon then approached the Inquisitor just as the tailor finished gathering the last of the measurements needed. He silently observed from the reflections, Josephine handing the tailor a large piece of parchment seemingly going over details for a gown. He glanced at Amanatha who sighed and explained that the dress was for a ball in two months at the Winter Palace. He nodded curtly before hearing Amanatha dismiss her company so she could visit with her father in private. Once they were alone, the young woman slumped on the sofa cushions of her couch, rubbing her temples. She felt her father take a seat next to her and gaze into her eyes with concern.  

“How have you been holding up?”  

Amanatha snorted bitterly. “Still haven’t found a way to deal with Corypheus and it doesn’t help that he has yet to make a move.” She then plopped her hands in her lap. “On top of that, I’ve been dealing with my inner circle’s problems.”  

“How are things with you and Solas?” Atthon finally asked catching her off-guard. “I had yet to encounter him throughout the castle.”  

“Unfortunately, you just missed him.” She said, shrugging her shoulders. “He and Cole are in Val Royeaux right now.”  

Atthon nodded slightly before his eyes spotted something shimmering on her right wrist. He tapped it gently with a finger and she quirked a brow at him. At first, she didn’t see anything until he lifted her hand, and she caught a glimpse of something silver on her skin. He brushed his thumb along the strand and narrowed his eyes into a frown. “When were you going to tell me you did a soul binding ritual?”  

“I didn’t do a soul binding ritual, Father. I would have come to you when the time was right if I ever planned on it.”  

The elder Lavellan knew his daughter spoke true. He had told her about these types of rituals and stated that they were not to be taken lightly. Yet, here was the proof that she was soul bound. He released her hand and cradled Amanatha’s face. “Have you or anyone else you know, got injured in the same place as you? Have you been feeling emotions that aren’t yours?”  

Amanatha felt her brow creasing in thought. Now that he mentioned it, she did recall several incidents. The first was when she and Solas reunited with everyone in the Western Approach. She recalled feeling a wave of irritation run through her when Solas was speaking with Blackwall. She had felt fine at the same time yet when the apostate was irritated, she sensed it but shrugged it off thinking it was all in her head. Then while she was on a mission for Cullen, she got injured on her leg and upon returning to Skyhold, Solas had the same injury but was just as baffled as the Inquisitor about how he earned it. Finally, there was the incident with Wisdom. Their rage seemed to feed off each other when they dealt with the idiotic Kirkwall mages in the Exalted Plains. Their flames were much more intense than usual.  

Atthon sighed as the evidence sunk in and Amanatha furrowed her brow. She knew that these rituals required blood in order to work but she was more than certain she and Solas would remember something as intense as a ritual of this caliber. Then another thought crossed her mind. She and Solas often tended to their own wounds or each other's on occasion and rarely did they allow anyone else to heal their injuries. Except... then it clicked, and her eyes widen in horror. The Fereldan and Orelesian couple they ran into after the Festival of Fen’Harel! They had insisted that they tend to the elvhen pair’s wounds. They must have been working for Corypheus! Then she spotted another look on her father’s face that she did not like. “There’s more, isn’t there?”  

“I’m afraid so.” He nodded his head gravely. “While a normal soul binding allows a couple to feel each other's emotions, the bond on the two of you is fatal. This bond is such that if you got injured or Solas, you both would receive the same wound and if one of you should die, the other would follow suit.”  

Amanatha frowned once more. “So that was how Solas got injured in the same place as I...” She mumbled. “But he left for Val Royeaux...”  

“I sincerely hope he returns soon for both your sakes.”  

“But why wouldn’t he tell me himself?” She questioned her father in bafflement. “He doesn’t have to lie or hide anything me. I wouldn’t have judged him.”  

Atthon closed his eyes in thought before exhaling. “My guess is when he discovered the truth, he didn’t wish to alarm or frightened you. He may have left for Val Royeaux to find a way to remove the bond... or perhaps to remove the lethality of it.”  

“Still doesn’t make it right to lie about something like this...”  

The elder Lavellan laughed softly in agreement. “Perhaps you can teach him a lesson when he returns.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Solas sighed as the two made it to the outskirts of Monfort. They had passed through Val Royeaux a couple hours ago and were now taking a rest under the shade of the trees along the road. Cole had managed to aid a few wandering caravans of their hurt but was now standing next Solas as he sat cross-legged under the swaying branches of the tree behind him. The two enjoyed the pleasant quietness of the nature that surrounded them. The whistle of the wind through the leaves, the tickling of grass beneath their feet and brief chirps of the songbirds singing nearby. Soon Solas glanced at the young man beside him as he slumped down next to the mage. “ Bright and brilliant, he wanders the ways, walking, unwaking, searching for knowledge .” The spirit mumbled softly causing Solas to tense slightly before he realized what Cole was doing.  

“I do not need you to do that, Cole.”  

Cole turned his head in confusion and tilted it to one side. “Your friend wanted you to be happy, even though she knew you wouldn’t be...”  

The mage let out a sad sigh before exchanging a tiny smile at the Spirit of Compassion. “Could you...” He paused for a moment to find his words. “If you would remember her, could you do it as I would?”  

Cole closed his eyes, humming for a moment before nodding his head at the mage’s request. “ He comes to me as though the Fade were just another wooded path to walk without a care in search of wisdom. We share the ancient mysteries, the feelings lost, forgotten dreams, unseen for ages, now beheld in wonder. In his own way, he knew wisdom, as no man or spirit had before .”  

“Thank you.” Solas said gratefully before rising to his feet. “Come. We still have a way to go, Cole.”  

“She’ll forgive you.” Cole said abruptly as he trailed after the apostate. “She’ll be upset but she’ll forgive you. She is rare.”  

Solas felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. “She is.”  

Chapter Text

It was nightfall by the time Solas and Cole made it to the ruins. What was once a splendid palace of pride and beauty was now overrun by creeping ivy and moss. The mosaics that covered the walls were either broken or faded from eons of being unkept. Solas turned towards Cole; an arm held up to prevent the spirit from wandering further. When the spirit gave him a questioning look, the mage shook his head. “I must traverse alone from here.” He explained. “There are ancient traps that could harm spirits such as you and it would pain me to no end if you got injured.” The spirit merely nodded before sitting down at the base of a giant hart statue. Smiling, the mage proceeded through the ancient ruins.  

In honesty, he never thought about coming to this place again. He had once after a grueling battle during his youth but only at the behest of Mythal. Back then, these halls were once untarnished by the overgrowth. Polished marble pillars with elegant satin curtains accented the halls like jewelry on a noble lady. Inlays of gold, silver and jewels strung through the mosaics now stripped clean by treasure seekers. Solas placed a hand on what was once a painting of Mythal and heaved a sigh. He missed his friend dearly. He then placed his hand over his breast feeling a wave of warmth wriggle through him. He smiled. Amanatha certainly had a knack for timing. He pressed on. It took him a while, but he was relieved to find a small stairway leading down to a large area where he caught the sound of bubbling water.   

The sight that greeted him from beyond the stairs brought waves of nostalgia and sorrow. Before him were a series of pools with steam radiating from the surface as heat from ancient runes beneath the stone continued to thrive as though time had not touched this place. Mossy curtains of ivy and wisterias dangled from ancient archways and the ceilings as enchanted candles flickered to life at the presence of one of their creators entered the room. Along with the candles reigniting, wisps of curiosity and memory danced around him as though welcoming him home. Solas frowned slightly, as he walked along the cobblestone walkways. How he wished he could have brought the Inquisitor here but there was another reason he did not. His magic was familiar to this place, even if Elgar’nan loathed to admit it. Amanatha’s magic was new and foreign. Not to mention, she was also a blooming Evanuris. This place was still connected to Elgar’nan and no doubt if he or any of the other Elvhen Gods detected what would practically be a newborn goddess, they would no doubt try to corrupt her into setting them free or worse. Solas shuddered at the thought.  

“So long as I draw breath, they will not touch ma vhenan .” Growled the mage almost possessively.  

Clearing his mind, Solas wandered around each of the pools. The first one had a pale green hue with water lilies dancing along the surface. He recalled most of the female Evanuris using this spring for relaxation and upkeep of their beauty. Not what he was looking for. He padded onwards. The next set of pools appeared to be a translucent purple with red flowers growing beside it. Vitality. Solas had more often than not found Elgar’nan lounging in these pools to revitalize his body with newfound strength. Again, not exactly what he was looking for, but the mage made a mental note to destroy this pool before leaving as a precaution. He found a white-gold spring that shimmered like stardust and Solas couldn’t quite remember the properties of this pool, but he was more than certain that this one was not it either. After a few more minutes of searching, he finally found it. A spring the color of the sunrise and sunset. The Spring of Removal. It had the power to completely erase blood bonds and even slave markings. The elf rubbed his own cheek slightly. He came here shortly after the death of Mythal to remove his own vallaslin. He sighed, deciding not to dwell on the past.  

He knelt down before the pool and brought his thumb to his mouth. He winced slightly as his canine sliced through his flesh. He held the blood over the pool as a few drops dripped into the bubbling water below. After three drops, he sealed the wound and watched as the pool’s color changed to a red similar to the red lyrium. He spotted a sliver of silver around the edge of the pool. Now came the tricky part. He had to submerge himself in its waters and wait until the silver overtook the corruption then leave before the last drop of red vanished in order to retain the bond with Amanatha. Solas looked around before meticulously removing his robes to which he neatly folded next to the water’s edge and laid his staff across the fabrics before slowly stepping into the warm water. He shivered slightly as the air above the pool was a little colder than that of the spring, but he soon submerged himself until the water came past his shoulders.  

He took a breath then sighed as he watched the color of the spring slowly change colors. He had to admit, while as relaxing and soothing as it was to be here, he did miss the company of the Inquisitor. He could easily picture her wandering around the pools, asking questions about each one. Honestly, he found himself longing to hear her voice. Then another thought invaded his mind along with a slight twinge of anxiety. She was going to be pissed! He frowned, sliding deeper in to the water, sending small waves towards the opposite end of the pool. Another sigh left his throat. He’d deserve her wrath on that matter, and he’d welcome the reprimand even if he dreaded what she had in store for him. Solas shook his head and continued to maintain his focus on the water, occasionally lifting a hand to watch the wisps spin around his fingers energetically.  

Another hour had gone by when the water practically turned silver in color save for a very tiny dot of red in the center. The mage quickly climbed out of the pool, watching the silver distort back to the color of sunrise and sunset then using a low warming spell, quickly dried himself off. He was just finishing up donning his robes when something shimmered near the white-gold pool. Unable to resist the pull of curiosity, Solas quietly approached the object, only to feel himself gasp in alarm, delight and wonder. Growing besides this pool, closed tightly like bulbs were flower buds. Each petal a mixture of different colors. But these weren’t ordinary flowers. Solas delicately, carefully, ran his index finger along the soft petal. “I thought these had gone extinct... yet here they thrive!”  

Curiosity struck him once more and he closed his eyes, focusing his mana on to the flower. A pale green aura wrapped around the flower, causing it to quiver before unfurling its petals and a small orb of light levitated from within it. The orb exploded, covering the area in a haze like fog. Solas waited with bated breath as spectral images began taking shape within the fog. “It has been quite some time since I last gazed at the treasures hidden with a melana blar . Or time flower as they are commonly referred to as.” He then froze as the memory that came into view from within the flower was that the past. Specifically, after a grueling battle with a titan. The vision revealed his younger self standing next to Mythal after they replenished their strength and vitality earlier.  

“Solas, why are you so fixated on these flowers?” Mythal laughed mirthfully. “They are not all that special.”  

The young wolf glanced at his friend. “I beg to differ falon. These flowers can record memories and store knowledge as they see it.” He paused thoughtfully. “Well, only when they sense powerful magic nearby...”  

The Elvhen goddess merely shook her head. “So, my dearest friend, since you have activated the flower, what do you plan on storing in it?”  

Solas tapped his chin in thought, glancing at the flower then back at the white-gold spring beside him and smirked. “A reminder about this pool. If I recall Elgar’nan’s words correctly, this pool can resurrect a fallen warrior with but a single drop.”  

“Aye, it is the Spring of Resurrection after all.” Mythal confirmed gazing at the pool. “Why he created such a thing still baffles me...”  

The vision faded and the flower closed its petals tightly. Solas hummed thoughtfully. He removed a small vial from his breast pocket and filled it up. This would come in handy no doubt. As he tucked the filled bottle back into his robes, he stared at the flowers for a moment then smiled. He knelt down and collected a few buds along with a few of the full blooms. No doubt, these would help lessen Amanatha’s wrath on him. Once he collected his fill, the elf made his way back to the entrance where he saw Cole watching a butterfly flutter around his outstretched hand. The spirit turned his head towards Solas before rising to his feet. Not needing to hear anything, the spirit immediately began to follow the mage.  

“Are we heading back to Skyhold?”  

Solas nodded his head. “Indeed.” He paused for a moment feeling a shudder run through him. “Though I fear the Inquisitor is probably going to have my head once we get back.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

It was evening when the apostate returned to the castle. He and Cole had been gone for nearly two days. Solas noticed a few wary stares coming from Bull and Cullen as he walked past them. From the expression, the mage had a sneaking suspicion that something bad was about to happen. He glanced at Cole, only to find the young spirit had departed to his little hideaway in the tavern. The main hall was alive with conversation and the smells of food. He slipped in his den within the rotunda and cautiously poked his head into the room, eyes scanning the area warily before deeming it was safe to enter. He had just finished setting his items down in his room when he heard the door to the rotunda open. He felt a wave irritation wash over him and he instantly knew who it was. Solas took a breath and slipped on a clean tunic then wandered into the rotunda.  

“So, you have returned.” The Inquisitor hissed in annoyance. “How did ailing the hurt in Val Royeaux go?”  

Solas cringed inwardly. “I apologize for the deception, vhenan . However, I did not wish to alarm you.”  

“Oh no! There is no excuse for that!” Amanatha snapped, storming over to the mage, her eyes glaring angrily. “Something as important as that should NOT have been kept hidden from me!”  

“Natha, it had to be done.”  

She grabbed his pendant and yanked him down to her level. “No! It did not!” She said, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’ve been lenient because I know everyone has a scar they do not wish to reopen, but considering that we were soul-bound, that’s another matter entirely!” He remained silent as she continued. “What would have happened if I had to go into battle and you hadn’t found a way to remove the fatality of the bond? Or worse! Had I been informed, then maybe I could have found ways to keep out of danger!”  

Solas felt his eyes widen then sadden. She had a point. Still, she was not done yet. “You told Cassandra, Cullen and Josephine... but you didn’t bother to tell me.” He didn’t deny it and now he wished he did tell her. He felt waves of anger, betrayal and sadness radiate from the Inquisitor. “I’m not a child, Solas. Neither are you. You can trust me too, you know. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone... You can me to lean on.” She released his pendant before sighing then she straightened her back. “Tomorrow, before sunrise, meet me in the main hall for a sparring match.”  

“I’m afraid I must-”  

“THAT IS AN ORDER!” She snapped with a growl, making the mage flinch before she departed from the rotunda, leaving the mage to his thoughts. However, it was short-lived, as he heard a familiar laughter above and the mage felt his blood boil slightly. He turned his head upwards to find Atthon laughing at him from the balcony above.  

“You certainly got yourself into trouble again, pup.”  

Solas groaned as he planted himself in his chair at his desk. “Come to gloat, have you?”  

“Hardly.” A soft thump indicated that the elder Lavellan had descended from the second floor to land in the rotunda with a barely audible grunt. “But can you really blame her reaction?”  

“No. I cannot.”  

Atthon stood beside the mage and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s more relieved that you are safe and alive.” He explained then chuckled. “Though I’m not surprised that she challenged you to a sparring match.”  

“She knows I do not like doing such trivial things.”  

Atthon lightly swatted the back of the mage’s head earning a hiss. “That’s not the only reason why she’s doing that.” Solas growled rubbing the back of his head as he listened to the elder. “Besides being one way to vent out frustrations, you can’t always rely on your magic in combat. She’s trying to help you grow even more.”  

“I’m sorry that I kept the soul-binding a secret, Elder.” Solas finally said after a bout of silence. “I only wished to keep her safe.”  

Atthon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, Solas, but she’s right. She’s not a child. Remember that. Don’t worry though. After tomorrow, you two will be back to normal in no time.”  

“I hope you are right.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Honestly, Solas wished that morning wouldn’t come. He grumbled as he sat up just before the dawn creeped into his room and he rested his head in his hand. He could already hear the sound of tables and chairs being moved aside to create space for the upcoming match. He also overheard Varric and Dorian setting up bets to see who would win between the apostate and the Inquisitor. Deciding not to dawdle any longer, he got out of bed and proceeded to get ready for his unavoidable match. A knock on the door alerted him and he made a soft reply to allow entry though he was less than pleased to see who it was.  

“I wouldn’t bother putting on that nasty thing you call a tunic.”  

Solas turned towards the Tevinter mage in annoyance. “And why would I not?”  

Dorian grinned devilishly. “First off, and most importantly, that thing is severely outdated!” He pointed at the shirt then glanced back at the mage, his smirk growing. “Secondly, if I know Natha, she’ll be easily distracted by that body such as yours and you need every advantage you can get with her. I didn’t know you were that well-toned underneath. Damn, Amanatha... I guess you will have a problem with me.”  

“GET OUT!” Solas snapped threateningly as he ignited an orb of flames in his palm then extinguished them when Dorian made a swift exit. “Irksome man...”  

He anxiously made his way out into the main hall only to stiffen slightly at the crowd gathering near a ring made of white satin. Up on the balconies gazing down, Vivienne and several others were anxiously awaiting the match. Bull and his Chargers were leaning against the wall or sitting in what few chairs that were available. Varric and Dorian seemed to be finishing up gathering their bets while Cullen approached the mage, handing him some linen wraps for his hands. Amanatha was already in the ring, her hair tied up in a braid and she wore what looked to be qunari mage armor. The ropes wrapped around her arms like bangles and the top wrapped tightly around her torso like a glove. She was busy adjusting her own hand wraps to notice him staring at her. When she finally did notice him, he swore he caught a glimpse of amusement? No. Perhaps excitement? No. Whatever it was, it quickly passed.  

“Ready?”  

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as Amanatha stepped into the satin ring and he followed suit. “It is not like I have a choice in the matter. You did order me to do so.” He then gestured to the crowd. “Though I was not expecting such a large crowd.”  

“That would be thanks to Varric, Dorian and Atthon.”  

Solas huffed. “I figured as much. What are the rules of this bout?”  

“Simple. No magic allowed. Match ends when one submits.” She stated as rolled her shoulders and got into a defensive position.  

The apostate mirrored her posture though it was obvious to everyone that he was not confident in the situation. The air grew quiet as two silently circled each other. Amanatha, unsurprisingly, struck first, tagging the mage against his side as he barely managed to dodge her attack. When Solas attempted to land a left hook, Amanatha effortlessly blocked with her right arm then using the same momentum gripped his arm, pivoted behind him and pinned his arm behind his back earning a startled hiss from the man. “ Ane ma esayal, Solas? ” she muttered, releasing his arm then she planted her foot against the small of his back and kicked him away, nearly causing him to topple out of the ring. “ Tel min elvyr sul em .”  

He spun around, holding his wrist. “ Ma ane throdenilt kema fra min o ar !”  

“ Ma elana tir ra, Solas .” Inquisitor Lavellan said encouragingly. “ Telir diana siofmier i enathe tirir !”  

Amanatha threw another punch only for her and the crowd to gasp as the apostate caught her fist in an open palm. He then twisted with the blow and jab his elbow into her stomach followed by a knee that sent her staggering backwards, winded. The Inquisitor watched as Solas once again got into a defensive position but this time, his posture was a little more confident and sturdier. Soon, their sparring appeared as a dance, each one landing a blow or dodging. He managed to block an incoming kick, silently admire her flexibility. The way her muscles flexed and tensed with each of her attacks was more than a little a distracting for him. More often than not, he found his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t. Especially in this situation. Eventually, the pair was covered in sweat and Amanatha was grinning almost proudly. Even Solas was enjoying unleashing some of his frustrations though he was careful not to leave lasting damage on his little dragon. He lunged forward, letting his instincts aid him, surprising the young woman with an open-palmed tap to her forehead.  

Amanatha blinked, shaking her head at the sensation. Biting her lower lip, the Inquisitor found her own eyes roaming over her opponent. She was quite surprised when Dorian told her that the apostate was more than what he appeared under his tunic and now that she saw it, she cursed the Tevinter’s other comment about finding Solas suddenly more attractive. The more she stared, the more she found herself wanting to touch him. She frowned at herself. This was no time to be distracted! She growled and charged forward, skidding at the last second and swiped her leg across the mage’s feet, sending the apostate crashing to the floor with a loud grunt. Not wasting any time, the Dalish woman leapt onto her prey like a cat. She managed to pin the apostate’s legs down first with her weight and she had a hand pressed against the back of Solas’ neck while the other had his right arm twisted painfully behind his back.  

“ Tir ma riarol ?” She purred, her warm breath tickling his ear.  

Damn you, vhenan! You have no idea how this affects me ! He thought with a growl. “ Telamdys ma !” He hissed quietly then he felt a familiar sensation in his chest, and he swore he felt Amanatha’s smile behind his ear.  

I have an inkling . Amanatha smirked. “Well? Do you submit?”  

He hissed once more as the woman wrenched his arm a little tighter. “Gah! Vin! Ar riarol! Ma ultrinn !”  

“And you won’t lie again to me?” She asked in a whisper that only the elf could hear.  

Solas nodded his head solemnly. He had no intentions on lying to her save for a few things. Soon the pressure on his arm was released and the mage let out a groan followed by the symphony of coin being passed around along with the growls of the unhappy losers. As soon as he felt her weight disappear, Solas forced himself to sit up on his knees and he rolled his sore shoulder. He saw Varric grumbling as he handed several coin purses to Dorian and Bull, then he spotted Amanatha laughing as Atthon grumbled and also handed her a small bag of gold. Apparently, the elder Lavellan had placed a bet on Solas and lost. The mage was taken aback when the Inquisitor offered him a clean towel while another was draped over shoulders. He accepted the token and allowed her to help him to his feet.  

“Remind me never to be on the receiving end of your wrath again.” Solas stated.  

Amanatha laughed mirthfully. “I’ll endeavor to remind you.” She patted his shoulder then gazed up at his eyes. “ Ane ar’an fra edrok mala, Vhenan ?”  

“ Vin, Vhenan .” He said, leaning down enough to discreetly place on a kiss on her brow. “And I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. I hope later on today I can give you another peace offering from my travels.”  

“Oooh. Consider me intrigued.”  

Chapter Text

Atthon was happy to see how much his daughter had grown. He watched from his spot at a table, absentmindedly listening to Varric ramble on all while watching Amanatha and Solas enjoy a nice breakfast after their sparring match. He lifted his glass of water and silently drank all while his thoughts lingered on the pair before he set it down and finished his meal. He glanced at the dwarf beside him who seemed to be watching the Inquisitor with a familiar protective stare as his before finally speaking. “Tell me, Varric,” The dwarf in question turned towards the elder Lavellan, “do you believe my daughter is the Herald of Andraste?”  

Varric tapped his chin thoughtfully. “She was saved from an explosion that leveled a mountaintop and fell out of the Fade. She traveled through time, faced one of the ancient magisters who started the Blight and had a mountain fall on top of her. Then finally stopped an army of demons.” He opened his eyes and chuckled slightly. “Just accomplishing one of those things is impossible. Accomplishing them all? A miracle in of itself. She doesn’t give herself much credit, but I believe she is more than she appears and has a heart of diamond.”  

“Diamond?” Atthon chuckled. “Not gold?”  

“She’s too transparent to be gold and diamonds, though often found rough and jagged in rocks and are much harder to find, when they are found and polished, they shine brilliantly.” Varric stated. “Spitfire is no different, though I agree with Chuckles, I do NOT want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Especially if she starts breathing literal fire.”  

The elder Lavellan threw his head back laughing in both amusement and delight. “I am glad my daughter has you as a friend.”  

“You are lucky to have such an amazing daughter.” Varric countered as he watched Amanatha and Solas nearly burst out laughing when Dorian was suddenly carried off by the Iron Bull. “When I first met her, I thought she would be more like Chuckles there. Withdrawn, wary with a touch of hostility or superiority. But I’m glad I was wrong. She’s literally a spitfire. She’s sweet and loving to those she has strong bonds with, and fiery when dealing with enemies or people who try to put her down.”  

“She wasn’t always like that.”  

The dwarf hummed thoughtfully. “How so?”  

“Natha was usually very quiet and withdrawn as a child. Especially after her mother left. She was afraid to learn magic and strove to excel in martial arts and weaponry.” Atthon sighed as he turned his body to stare into the crackling fire. “When she was an adolescent, she gained a little more confidence but still was wary about her powers. I can tell now with everyone around encouraging her, she’s grown more into them. Though she still has a lot to learn.”  

Varric snorted slightly. “Probably because Solas brings out the best in her.”  

“I am inclined to agree, however, I request a favor of you Master Tethras.”  

“I’m all ears, Feathers.”  

“Feathers?”  

Varric smirked at the confused elder. “Yeah. Don’t know why but you seem like a ‘Feathers’ kind of guy.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

It was hard to leave Skyhold that day. Even harder to say goodbye to his daughter, but Atthon was needed back home. As he walked towards the main gate, he was stunned to find not only his daughter, but nearly all her companions and advisors seeing him off. The Lavellan clan leader could on stare in heart-felt surprise as his daughter approached him and embraced him. “Return safely, Father.” Said the Inquisitor. “And I hope we can visit again.” Atthon smiled fondly before holding his daughter tightly to him. Like it was the last time he would hold her. He then ruffled her hair to irritate her, delighting in the groan she gave him, followed by her smile as she flattened her messy hair.  

“Perhaps once this business with Corypheus is over, we should celebrate in the Emerald Graves.” Solas suggest and Atthon smirked.  

“That sounds like a splendid idea.”  

After a few more farewells, the Lavellan leader soon departed from the castle and on to the main road with only his thoughts to occupy him. As the man walked along the beaten path down to the mouth of the Emerald Graves, Atthon turned his head towards the mountains with a sad and thoughtful look. His daughter had more than grown in to a lovely young woman. She was an inspiring leader in her own right and seemed to amass quite the following of friends and allies. Atthon could still remember the shy, timid little girl from years ago. He could visualize Amanatha sitting by the river near the village practicing her dual-wielding. He strolled by another set of trees where notches from arrows littered the massive bark. She was always a wonderful marksman but then again, he was the one who taught her. His fingers glided along the bark and hooked into some of the notches, each one replaying a memory in his mind. He wasn’t sure why he was having such a melancholic mood, but he tried not to dwell on it.  

Not too far away, a familiar pair was watching the elf from afar. One was an Dalish elf woman and her companion, a templar in crimson armor. Samson and Mienassan had been wandering the entirety of the Emerald Graves waiting for Atthon to return. “Are you sure he’s our way in?” Samson grumbled quietly as he stared at the back of the elf’s head. “He doesn’t look like much.”  

“I was married to the man. I know what he looks like, and he hasn’t aged a day since I first met him.”  

“So, are we going to kill him?”  

Mienassan shook her head. “Not quite. We need to follow him to find where the barrier to the clan is.”  

Samson rolled his eyes before shuffling carefully behind the Dalish as they trailed after the Lavellan elder. Corypheus had ordered Samson to aid Mienassan with discovering the location of the Inquisitor’s clan in order to destroy it. However, the elf was a sadistic one as she suggested that once they found it, they would wait until after the assassination of the Empress. Her reason? One of the moons, Santia would blood red while its twin, Luismin would new and that would grant Samson and his men a unique boost in power while the elf would be able to destroy the barrier protecting the Elvhen city. Although their master did not particularly appreciate having to wait such a long time for the woman to unleash her wrath, the image of seeing a distraught and broken Herald as she is unable to save all that she loved was more than tantalizing to witness.  

Atthon soon vanished from the pair’s view. It was so sudden that Samson swore the man teleported sensing their presence. That was until he saw Mien walkover to the spot Atthon had just occupied. She raised her hand and smirked as she glided her fingers along an invisible wall. “Is that it?”  

“Yes.” She said kneeling down in the grass where she produced a small black pearl. Using her thumb, the woman pushed the pearl deep into the earth. “And now we have a waypoint for us to transport our troops when the time is right.”  

The templar glanced at the vast forest before him and tapped at the air, thinking he would strike a solid barrier or something but instead, he felt nothing. “Are you sure it’s here? I don’t see or sense anything.” The general of the Red Templars inquired. The elf woman laughed.  

“That is because, you are not an elf but trust me, it is there.” She grinned beckoning her companion to follow as they left the forest. “And now we wait.”  

Chapter Text

Amanatha stared at the beautiful crystal looking flower bud in her hand that Solas had given her. It had been a few days since their little tiff and the mage was relishing in more of Elvhen history along with the purpose of the Time Flower in her palm. The two were currently holed up in her quarters as Vivienne had insisted on adding more appealing furniture to the rotunda. Amanatha had to appease both the mages by making sure Vivienne would not tamper or mess with any of Solas’ research and apostate could keep his room locked. “So, these flowers have been around since ancient times and were used to record messages or historical events?” She inquired as she carefully planted the remaining bulbs in a medium pot in her room, lightly tracing the petals.  

“Correct.” Solas nodded as he sat cross legged on the floor with some of the letters from her grandfather’s chest spread out in front of him. He turned his head as the woman took a seat beside him. “All you have to do is pour a little of your mana into the bloom and once it begins to glow, you can record anything you wish, and the flower will never die.”  

Amanatha rested her head on his shoulder with a thoughtful smile. “A truly amazing relic. Any luck with the letters?”  

“No and yes.” He handed her one of the oldest letters. “These letters have been well preserved but there are no indications of the recipient sending letters back to this Telana person. Also, there are not very many to begin with. However, as you suspected, the last letter sent stated that Telana did in fact head towards the Frostbacks but this was also the last letter she sent.”  

“Well, hopefully we get a report from Harding soon.” Amanatha sighed.  

It had been two weeks since the Inquisitor had sent out the order for Josephine to hire the scholar known as Kenric and they had yet to receive any sort of update. However, just as they finished gathering the scattered letters, a scout barged into the room. Amanatha really hated it when the scouts did that, but it was to be expected. He handed her an envelope bearing the Inquisition’s mark. The Inquisitor dismissed her scout and opened the letter, scanning the contents. From the looks of it, Scout Harding managed to meet up with Kenric who had his own scouts seeking more information on Ameridan’s last known whereabouts. Also within the letter was a warning about hostile wildlife and a strange clan of Avvar. Solas gleamed the letter from over the Dalish’s shoulder then peered at the woman’s face, catching a glimpse of a smirk. “Off to the Frostbacks are we?”  

“Indeed.” Said the Inquisitor. “We’re heading to the Frostbacks.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

The Frostbacks were nothing like their namesake. The dense rainforests were humid and lush with a variety of wildlife and plant life that were nothing like the creatures Amanatha had seen throughout the northern parts of Thedas. At the same time, though, she had a sense of Deja vu from her dream with the hummingbirds. She guided her companions towards a camp where they were greeted by both Harding and the scholar, Kenric. The man was actually from Fereldan and had been studying the history of the original Inquisition for quite some time and confirmed that they existed over 800 hundred years ago. “If my memory serves correctly, Ameridan was a renowned dragon hunter that vanished on his last expedition.”  

“You’d be correct Lady Lavellan!” Kenric smiled excitedly. “Your scouts have gathered artifacts from the area. They may help us discover what Inquisitor Ameridan was doing.”  

Harding cleared her throat, a serious expression on her face. “I have news as well. We’ve encountered hostile Avvar to the north. They call themselves the Jaws of Hakkon. There’s also an Avvar hold to the east. Unlike the Jaws of Hakkon, they’ve been friendly so far.”  

“Jaws of Hakkon?” Amanatha heard Dorian ask behind her. “That doesn’t bode well.”  

“They’re hostile Avvar who attack any Inquisition agents or researchers who get close.” The dwarven scout explained. “We’ve sent soldiers for defense, but the Hakkonites are cunning, merciless, and know the Basin better than we do. I’m afraid our men will not be able to hold out long.”  

Amanatha nodded her head slightly then she turned her attention back to the scholar. “Have you managed to find Inquisitor Ameridan’s resting place?”  

Kenric shook his head. The Dalish woman slumped her shoulders slightly. Of course it wouldn’t be that simple . She thought then noticed a smirk on the Fereldan. While he could not find tracks or such, he did find ancient metal buckles. He explained that barring enchantment, cloth and leather would have long since rotted away. However, metal and stone remain recognizable. Complicating this though were recent pieces the Avvar left behind, and of course ancient pieces dating back to Tevinter. Fortunately, thanks to some period-specific buckling, the man had been able to track the last Inquisitor. Everything so far pointed to the shore not far to the south. According to Kenric’s research, there was some sort of battle near the shoreline. His proof was a dagger made of Silverite, with a stylized dragon pommel and an inscription that read Kordillus . That dagger had to be a gift from Kordillus Drakon, first emperor of Orlais. No one would just lose such a thing. Harding then informed the Inquisitor that her scouts reported an island near an Avvar fishing camp, but the Avvar won’t say much about it.  

“Then I guess that’s where we’ll start.” Amanatha smiled, shaking Kenric’s hand. “Thank you very much and we’ll return if we find more evidence.”  

“Oh, yes! Please do! And be careful!”  

Finding the shore wasn’t that hard, but they did encounter a poor fisherman dealing with what looked like Avvar warriors, but they were covered in black and white clay over their skin and armor. Worse yet, the warriors seemed to know her and Amanatha swore she had seen them before though she didn’t dare share that it was from the dream she had a while back with the hummingbirds. As Blackwall and Cassandra slew the last Hakkonite, they turned towards Amanatha who was scratching her head in confusion. “The Jaws of Hakkon knew you, Lady Lavellan.” Blackwall pointed out.  

“I heard them Blackwall...” Amanatha stated calmly.  Kill the Inquisitor? What do these Jaws of Hakkon have against me? She then turned her head towards the west. “Perhaps the friendlier Avvar in the village Harding mentioned can shed some light...”  

Before she and her companions could proceed on their way, the fisherman called out to them, inviting to supper for the evening as thanks. Not wanting to be rude, they obliged. The man’s name was Arvid, and he was a member of the Stone-Bear Tribe. Stone-Bear Hold had been around for a few generations though he was born further north. He left before he could remember. It was a good life too until the Jaws of Hakkon arrived. They brought trouble with them, and he admitted that he was expecting a raid soon. An ill-omen for sure. Deciding to change the subject, the Inquisitor silently noticed the fishing equipment. “I take it you’re a skilled fisherman. Do you happen to know these waters?”  

“Aye.” The man said knowingly. “Fish are plentiful and there’s decent game on some of the islands. So long as you avoid the Lady’s Rest, there’s food on the table.”  

Solas spoke up, curiosity underlining his tone. “The Lady’s Rest?”  

“That island. The Lady of the Skies uses it for her solitude. It is ill luck to disturb her.”  

Amanatha nodded before stiffening, the world around her fading to white. She spotted a familiar hummingbird hovering before her face before flying towards the sea, towards the island. She blinked and held her head, earning a few concerned glances. “I do not wish to disturb your Lady, but I need to visit the island.”  

Arvid seemed to be contemplating her words before he stated firmly. “If I give you the boat and you anger the spirits and die, other lowlanders may come for blood. That is trouble for my hold and not my trouble to take. Go to Stone-Bear Hold and speak with my thane, Svarah Sun-Hair. Get her blessing and you may sail to Korth’s rocky heart if you wish.”  

“Sounds reasonable.”  

“But for now, you are guests in my home.” The man said calmly as he stood up. “Rest for the night and make your journey to the Hold. Mind the Hakkonites.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

They left at dawn, the fog from the sea blanketing the area in an ethereal cloak. Amanatha felt Solas shifting slightly in the saddle as Thestral trudged through the muddy ground where the river met the sea. Cassandra had Varric riding with her though the dwarf looked like he was a hunted deer. Sera was with Blackwall and Dorian with Iron Bull. The Tevinter, though, was complaining about the mosquitos swarming at him. Thankfully, they were only in the wetlands for an hour and were now riding along a beaten path towards the sound of shouting and cheering.  

“What’s that commotion?” Cassandra asked, glancing up at the mountain walls on their left.  

Blackwall strained his ears to listen. “I don’t know but it certainly sounds exciting.”  

“Could just be a party.” Dorian muttered hopefully.  

“Or a fight.”  

“Why must you always assume it's a fight, amatus ?”  

The Iron Bull snorted. “We’re the Inquisition. A fight is always in our path.”  

They found a large crowd surrounding a wall where two Avvar were scaling up the rockface in a race. Or at least that was what it appeared to be. Overseeing the event were two figures watching the racers. One was a woman with golden hair like fire. Beside her, seeming talking to her, was a man nearly the same height as Iron Bull. The man was wearing fur armor but was also caked in white and black clay of some sort. Upon his head was a strange helm of horns. Solas felt the Inquisitor tense up and he brought his head down to whisper in her ear. “What is wrong, Natha?”  

“That man... I’ve seen him.” She replied quietly. “In the dream I mentioned... with the hummingbirds.”  

“Your climbers seem tired, Thane Sun-Hair. Poor hunting?” The strange Avvar seemed to mock the golden-haired woman. “Is your hold-beast well?”  

Thane Sun-Hair flicked a glare at the man. “We hunt as well as ever, Thane Harofsen. You’ll do well to remember that.”  

Harofsen chuckled darkly. “You would be safer under the shield of the Jaws of Hakkon.”  

“I think not.” A bell rang out and the man frowned while the woman grinned proudly. “Hask Fishersen has taken victory in sight of the Lady of the Skies. Parve, you owe four rams to Hask, not three.”  

The one known as Hask seemed to be from the Stone-Bear Hold while the other racer, the one who lost was from the Jaws of Hakkon. Amanatha was able to deduce that the two were competing as a means of settling an agreement. Solas muttered that he found the technique rather clever then glanced at the woman in front of him. When he suggested that maybe the Inquisitor should utilize that practice, he let out a small grunt and chuckle when the woman elbowed him playfully in the ribs. Amanatha and her companions dismounted from their steeds and made their way towards the two thanes. Harofsen glanced down at the elf woman before him, his eyes hard and unreadable. He growled before departing stating that the Inquisitor would soon face the wrath of his clan soon enough. But Amanatha did not have time to dwell on it for she and her company were invited to join the Stone-Bear Thane in her home.  

Sun-Hair took a seat upon a throne made of stone and gestured for her company to make themselves comfortable. “I am Svarah Sun-Hair, Thane of Stone-Bear Hold. You have guest-welcome here.” She glanced at the Inquisitor curiously. “The lowlanders have little love for your Dalish clans. I am impressed that you came to lead their Inquisition and with such diversity.”  

“Well, I am not considered a true Dalish.” Amanatha corrected with a chuckle.  

The Avvar woman smiled slightly. “So, what brings you and your Inquisition here?”  

“We have learned that the last Inquisitor may have died here hundreds of years ago. We seek his body.”  

“Giving peace to the dead is a worthy quest. Any help we can offer is yours.” Svarah offered then added in slight disappointment. “Sadly, the Jaws of Hakkon will not offer so warm a welcome. You have met their thane, Gurd Harofsen. I wager you have crossed blades with the Jaws of Hakkon in the wilderness. If you would search this place for your Inquisitor’s body, they will want you to pay in blood.”  

Solas suddenly spoke up. “Do you happen to know about the Hakkonites?”  

“They are not the first hold to take that name.” The thane growled turning her gave to the stone ceiling of the cave. “All have been foolish. What would you know of them?”  

“What do the Jaws of Hakkon believe that makes them so angry?” He inquired with a serious expression. “Why are they so hostile?”  

Svarah hummed thoughtfully. The crackling fire popped loudly before the woman sighed. “A wise man honors each god to its strength. Bjorn Reed-beard for fishing, Rilla of the Fireside for making babies… The Hakkonites care only for Hakkon Wintersbreath, God of war and winter. There is no evil in Hakkon. There are times to fight. But the Jaws of Hakkon care for nothing else. They raid; they fight. Eventually they die and their stories are forgotten. It is the way of things.” She rested her chin on the back of her hand. “Many ages ago, the original group thought of nothing but slaughter-glory. They attacked the lowlanders. Then they died and Hakkon’s voice went silent. We did not know why until now. The current group however, they came here a few years ago, after the Blight took their hold. There was land enough for both, so we were friendly. We did not see their anger. Gurd Harofsen lost too many in his hold to darkspawn. He thought only of battle and war. To avenge a wrong is a good thing, but only a fool lights the world on fire to do it.”  

When Amanatha informed the woman about procuring a boat, Svarah hummed thoughtfully. Then a grin formed on her face. The leader of the Stone-Bear hold decided on a better deal. She offered the Inquisition loan of the boat as well as her hold’s aid if they were able to discover the whereabouts of the clan’s hold-beast. Among the Avvar, a hold drew strength from its hold-beast which was usually that of an animal. They were considered kin to them. When the hold-beast was strong and happy, there was joy. When it sickened and died, it was an ill omen. The hold’s animal was a great bear by the name of Storvacker. Apparently, she had not been seen in days causing the members of the hold to fear for her and with the peace-oath Svarah and Harofsen had, Sun-Hair could not ask the hold to break peace-oaths unless Storvacker returned. Amanatha turned towards her companions.  

“So, we’re off on a bear hunt?” Dorian snorted. “Splendid...”  

“We’ll find your kin, Svarah” The Dalish said with a smile before rising to her feet along with her allies. The Thane wished her luck as they departed but not before instructing them to visit her augur to be put on the right path.  

~~~~~~~~~  

Upon arriving at the augur’s hut, they were greeted by a burly man who offered the group a warm smile. The man’s name was Arrken and he seemed to be working on a ritual of some sort. As the Inquisitor entered the hut, the augur tossed some salts into the fire and several spectral forms manifested around her. “So, she arrives. Don't throng! Behold, worthy ones.” The augur gestured towards the elf woman and the spirits turned their attention towards. “The woman who blazes like fire and mends the air.” The spirits seemed to bow in reverence before Amanatha. In turn, the Inquisitor returned the gesture earning a pleased hum from the augur. As the spirits returned to their home beyond the Veil, Arrken soon introduced himself properly.  

“So, you are an ambassador to the local spirits.” She noted.  

Solas smiled. “Some spirits have wisdom to share, for those who are willing to listen.”  

Arrken chuckled softly at the inquisitive gaze from the woman. “They protect the hold. They help drive off spirits who've gone bad with rage or gloom. The gods live with us. Ignore their offerings, offer them nothing, and it weakens us all.”  

“Interesting.” The apostate beamed in fascination. “You draw in spirits influenced by these ritual battles to aid you during real conflict.”  

“Did I not just say that?”  

Amanatha snickered at the pout on the apostate’s face as he grumbled an apology. The Augur huffed before returning his attention to the woman as she spoke. “I heard that your hold-animal is missing, and Thane Sun-Hair suggested we visit you to get our bearings.”  

“Storvacker? Yes, I can ask the gods to help put you on the right track but what have you for tribute?”  

Amanatha rummaged through her bag before producing a vial of her healing elixir. “A potion of healing so potent that most illnesses are cured. All it requires is one drop in water and you can mend an entire hold. Will this suffice?”  

Arrken took the small vial and studied the glowing amber liquid before nodding his head.  He set the vial down carefully on the table behind him where he began collecting a variety of ingredients. From what Amanatha could decipher, the augur collected feathers from a bird of some sort, scales of a varghast, bone meal from a bog fisher and finally, though she wasn’t expecting it, a hair from her own head. Arrken ground the ingredients into a fine powder muttering a chant of some sort while everyone watched in awe. He motioned for the Inquisitor to step forth. As she did, she coughed when he flicked some of the powder into her face. She was about to question why he did so but was rendered silent when he cast the remainder of the powder into the fire. The flames erupted into a small explosion and the orange flames quickly morphed into green and purple flames. The embers soon condensed forming a little fire bird with a green body and purple markings. It took the shape of a hummingbird causing the woman to gasp in shock.  

“Here is your guide.” Arrken said watching the fire bird flit around her excitedly. “You must be gods-blessed. Most of the time guides just appear as threads of light but this spirit wants to aid you.”  

Amanatha just stood there motionless, her eyes locked firmly on the firebird. It looked like one of the hummingbirds from her dream. She reached out towards then jumped aside when it flew out of the hut, hovering in the doorway waiting for her and her companions to follow. She turned towards the augur and smiled her thanks before chasing after the bird, leaving everyone else in to sprint after her. Unbeknownst to the group, two more hummingbirds were watching from a distance.  

Chapter Text

Amanatha pulled Solas into the saddle behind her and glanced at the rest of her company then once they were all together, they began following their fiery guide. They rode down a narrow ravine and an eerie fog started rolling in. Amanatha and Solas covered their noses when the smell of wet wool and decay rose up from the ground. But it wasn’t just the smell that caught them off-guard but the scene below them did. Before them was a thick blanket of smokey gray fog. Cassandra noted that there were massive trees around the area but that was about it. Bull pointed out that they were actually in a swamp. They soon saw the hummingbird emit a sharp chirp before bursting into sparks in what looked to be the center of the swamp. Thestral snorted and shook his head, chomping at his bit. The horses carrying the others did the same. They weren’t going down there, no way. Realizing that their mounts refused to proceed, Amanatha and the others descended down a trail on foot. The air slowly became heavy and the light from the afternoon sun disappeared, leaving them in darkness akin to night. 

“I finally found someplace I hate even more than caves!” Varric exclaimed with a nervous chuckle. “That’s a first...” 

Blackwall grunted when he stumbled over a rock. “How can it be this dark already. We haven’t been traveling that long right?” 

Amanatha closed her eyes as did Solas. They could see just fine in the dark, but their companions could not. So, they opened their palms and small orbs of fire danced around them illuminating their surroundings a little. “Good place as any for an ambush.” Said the qunari as he kept his battleaxe ready. “Watch your backs.” 

“You do realize it is physically impossible to watch your own back.” Dorian quipped then grumbled as he heard and felt the squelching of mud beneath his feet. 

Iron Bull smirked. “And now I’m thinking about it.” 

“Bull, is there really such a thing as a good place for an ambush?” 

The qunari hummed at Cassandra’s question before smirking. “ Pitch-black swampy wilderness , is at the bottom, next to armories and anyplace with hooks hanging from the ceiling. Everything else you rank in descending order from there. Expensive glassware shops, wine cellars, maybe an Orlesian ball. Those would be good places.” 

Solas heard a chortle and turned his eyes towards Amanatha who was struggling to stifle a laugh. The qunari had an interesting way of looking at possible ambush locations. After few minutes of wandering the mud, they came across a broken wagon with a large, battered cage. From looks of the wreckage, it looked like someone or more accurately a group of people tried to subdue a large animal. Amanatha leaned into the cage and found scraps of meat and fish. Dorian, though complaining about the mud around his boots, traced several large claw marks on the side of the wagon. The fact that they did not find a body or bodies suggested that their quarry had been captured and taken somewhere else, possibly hidden within the swamp. 

“How are we going to find a bear in this muck?!” 

Amanatha rolled her eyes at Dorian’s whining complaint before glancing at Solas. The elvhen man felt a wave of curiosity and mischief wash over him along with a faint twinge of dread. “ Vin, vhenan ?” 

“Shilta elana ma vempeks mah hron or mar douta ekess wer iovro?” 

Solas gave her a frown though it did not reach his eyes thankfully. “Ahnsul elana’t ma?” 

“Ar sil so.” She giggled mischievously. “Ma elana’t tir ra.” 

The mage tapped her head with blunt end of his staff in annoyance though he was struggling to keeping a neutral expression. He almost fell to her taunt, but he was glad he resisted the urge to prove her wrong. Instead, she knelt down in the muck running her fingers along what looked to be tracks. The mud was still wet, but the edges of the prints were dry. “They were here about two ago and it appears they were heading west.” 

“How do you know?” Cassandra inquired as the elf rose to her feet. 

Amanatha cocked her head to the side. “You realize I trained mostly as a hunter more than a mage. I do know how to track.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

They followed the tracks for another half hour through the mud though they had to deal with an abnormally large bog fisher. Amanatha really detested them. The beasts often reminded her of a hairless bear with a dolphin’s head, and they had the temperament of a mountain troll when it came to their territory being threatened. Thankfully, after dealing with the nuisance, the bog fisher actually pointed them in the right direction for they found a large group of Hakkonites in front of a cave. Varric had also found tuffs of bear fur caught in a tree stump and Blackwall pointed out deep claw marks in the mud, suggesting that Storvacker had been trying to resist and pull herself free from her captors. Amanatha and her companions ducked behind the large boulders they had for cover. 

“Any suggestions on how we should proceed?” She asked everyone. 

Cassandra and Blackwall shrugged.  

Iron Bull opted to just have them barrel through the warriors like they were bales of wheat. When she glanced at Dorian and Solas, the apostate suggested that they try to lure the group away from the cave and deal with them that way. Dorian countered this by reminding the group they were short on time. He glanced at the Inquisitor and smirked. “You could just torch them as a dragon?” 

“And risk roasting the bear in the cave?” 

“Oh, right.” 

Solas then cleared his throat. “There’s plenty of fog around us, Dorian and I could use our magic to bring it around the Hakkonites and you can electrify the water to eradicate them?” 

“That could work.” Mulled the Inquisitor as she peeked over the rock. “If you two think you can pull off such a feat.” 

Dorian huffed puffing out his chest. “You wound me, my dear! This is but child’s play.” 

Solas rolled his eyes before the three mages split up to separate sections of the marsh. Dorian was furthest away from the mouth of the cave, while the apostate was perched up on a large thick branch looming over cave and Amanatha was closest to the cave’s entrance keeping low behind another large boulder. Cassandra, Iron Bull and Blackwall waited with bated breath as the Tevinter and the apostate began making subtle spirals with their hands. Mist from the bog soon began to move like wildfire towards the cave, yet the Hakkonites hardly batted an eye. They had seen fog roll in and out suddenly which gave the three the perfect advantage. Amanatha struggled as she waited until the right moment to strike. Just as the fog enveloped the entire group of Hakkonites, Amanatha felt a tug of acknowledge from Solas and without missing a beat, a branch of lightning sprang from her fingertips and latched onto to one of the warriors, then three then five until they were all electrified by her spell. There were soft squelches as the bodies crumpled into the muck and Amanatha let out a soft whistle to the warriors still hiding from view. Cassandra, Blackwall and Iron Bull made sure to submerge the Hakkonite bodies deep into the mud to hide the evidence. Solas swiftly descended from his perch to rejoin the group before they made their way inside the cave. 

The cave itself wasn’t all that interesting, but it was indeed rather spacious. There were cages carved into the walls. Most were empty save for one. It was lodged in the back of the cave and had one occupant. Laying on the floor of the cell was a massive gray colored great bear. It was covered in wounds but most of them appeared superficial. It seemed to be asleep though. Iron Bull gruffed softly. “Well, we found the bear... now what?” 

“Now’s the part where apparently we free a bear while standing right next to it.” Varric quipped while Amanatha knelt down before the cage’s lock and began picking the lock deftly. 

Blackwall seemed a bit on edge. “I hope it recognizes us as friendly.” 

“Blackwall, if I recall,” Dorian began as he watched the bear stir from its slumber. “I understand bears normally eat fish and berries.”  

“Oh, will you all stop worrying like a bunch of timid nugs?” Amanatha grumbled as the lock clattered to the ground. Storvacker chuffed, lifting her head as the door swung open. The bear purred as the elf woman ran a soothing hand over the bear’s head while Solas assisted in mending the animal’s wounds. “She can tell we’re here to help.” 

“She lives peacefully near the Avvar of the hold.” Solas pointed out then grunted when the bear rose to her feet and proceeded to lean against him and Amanatha like an overgrown housecat. “If we do not threaten her, I doubt she will attack.” 

Storvacker gruffed softly as she padded after the Inquisitor and her companions. They were nearly out of the swamp when more Hakkonites spotted them and let out cries of disbelief. Before Amanatha could even question what was going on, the great bear charged into the group of enemies, massive paws swiping large hook-like claws across their faces and sinking dagger like fangs into their flesh by the time the Inquisitor and her companions caught up to Storvacker, the she-bear had already finished off the last of the Hakkonites. The bear roared triumphantly enjoying the head scratches Amanatha gave her as thanks. Varric let out a startled grunt when Storvacker grabbed the dwarf and hauled him on to her back as she effortlessly trudged through the mud towards where Thestral and the other horses were waiting for them. “Can someone explain to me why the bear is having me ride on her back?” 

“I think it is her way of showing gratitude to you since you kept sinking in the mud earlier.” 

The dwarf groaned. “This is definitely going into my book of weird encounters, Spitfire.” 

“It would make for a good story for your new nephews and niece, Uncle Varric.”  

Varric gawked, frowned than laughed along with Cassandra, Iron Bull and Blackwall. “Well played, Spitfire. Well played.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Goat-kissing blood-drinking Hakkonite chicken-craps!” Svarah hissed a string of curses violently as Amanatha relayed their success of rescuing Storvacker. The bear seemed be chuckling in amusement at the Avvar woman’s colorful language and the Inquisitor could easily see Sera smirking at the new curse words and was probably already adding them to her vocabulary. Thane Sun-Hair soon cleared her throat once her rant was done and glanced at the Dalish woman. “Thank you, Inquisitor. Storvacker has returned. My hunters saw what you and she did to the Hakkonites who held her. In trapping Storvacker, the Jaws of Hakkon broke their peace-oath with Stone-Bear Hold. Our blades are yours and you have my permission to use the boat as well.” 

“We appreciate your help, Svarah, but just so you know... the Hakkonites planned on sacrificing your hold-beast though I do not know for what purpose.” The elf woman bowed her head then narrowed her eyes as the Avvar woman turned her head towards her hunters who placed a blanket with strange looking totems. “What are those?” 

Svarah didn’t respond at first as she seemed to be examining each totem with a dark and serious expression. “These are items my hunters brought back from where they held Storvacker and now adding your words about them planning to sacrifice our hold-beast... I know what they intended to do. It is not something you will like—something few Avvar would tell lowlanders… but you must hear it. The Jaws of Hakkon sought to bind their god in mortal form and bring war to the lowlands.” 

There was a long silence before Solas frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “A god -god?” 

“Yes. Hakkon Wintersbreath, bringer of the cold winds of war.” Svarah stated then noticed Amanatha flinch. “A name you seem to recognize, Inquisitor.” 

“How is that even possible?” The woman questioned glancing around. Solas frown but remained silent. “How does one send a god to attack someone?” 

“With much blood and many foolish rituals.” Svarah growled with a shake of her head. “Though you have given them pause, the Hakkonites will try again. Ages ago, the old Jaws of Hakkon did the same. They brought their god to life to destroy the lowlands. Their foolishness lost Hakkon to all Avvar. Now they would free him and begin again.” 

The Avvar noticed the still confused faces of her guests and she leaned back into her throne. She explained that when the original Jaws of Hakkon bound their god to mortal form, he became blood of this world. However, he could hear no prayers, nor speak to the augurs. All he could do was kill. Then he vanished instead of dying. As though rendered mute, lost for ages. If the current Hakkonites sought to free him from mortal form, Sun-Hair could understand to a point. Unfortunately, she had no doubt that Haforsen would make him attack the lowlands once more. When Dorian asked if Avvar gods taking mortal form was a normal occurrence, the Avvar leader shook her head. The gods actually belonged within the land of dreams. Whether it is their wish or some augur's that brought them to the waking world, battle-tears will be shed. The skalds often say the Lady of the Skies took mortal form when Tyrdda Bright-Ax first led the Avvar to the mountains. She then added that the elders say many things about Bright-Ax and the Lady. 

“You said that the Jaws of Hakkon first tried binding their god in mortal form hundreds of years ago?” Amanatha recalled and Svarah nodded. “In our search for Inquisitor Ameridan, we learned that he came here to fight a great dragon eight hundred years ago… A dragon that came from the mountains with Avvar warriors to attack the lowlands... Do you think it’s possible that they are related?” 

“More than likely. You might find more information on the dragon at the Lady’s Rest.” Svarah stated as though recalling a memory. “In fact, I am more than certain. My predecessor once mentioned a spirit that lingered in the Lady’s Rest, but no one would be allowed to visit unless they were blessed by the spirit of a hummingbird. From what I hear, you were gods-blessed by a hummingbird spirit. Perhaps it will lead you to what you seek.” 

It was nighttime by the time Amanatha and her companions made it back to the fisherman’s hut. She had brought the man a few rabbits and fish as payment to spend the night in the spare hut before venturing out to the island in the morning. Once her party had been fed and were now resting comfortably in their bedrolls, the Dalish woman was sitting by the fire she had brought back to life and was staring at the island in the distance with her little hummingbird spirit perched on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet lapping of the waves along the sand when a faint voice of woman reached her ears. Her eyes snapped opened as she glanced around thinking perhaps it was Sera or maybe Cassandra talking in their sleep. However, as she quickly checked on her companions, she frowned, discovering that neither of them had spoken in the voice that she heard. Again, the voice whispered and Amanatha twitched her ears, straining to listen. 

I can’t… not without…  

“Not without?” Amanatha prompted to no one in particular. 

This blood… my blood? No, I can't…  

The Dalish Inquisitor frowned. “Blood?” 

Vhenan… I’m… dreaming…  

“I thought you’d be asleep by now, Vhenan .”  

Amanatha jumped, causing the little hummingbird to chirp in surprise as it flittered around her. She whipped her head around and saw Solas leaning against the doorway of the shack. He slowly approached her and sat down beside her. Not even hesitating, Amanatha leaned against the mage for comfort. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Understandable. I find it hard not to enter the Fade and explore.” He chuckled but quickly felt a wave of anxiety washing over him. “What troubles you, Natha?” 

“I hear a voice. It’s not clear but I’m certain it is coming from the island.” She admitted then opened her palm, allowing the hummingbird to perch comfortably in her palm. “This little spirit looks exactly like the smallest hummingbird from my dream...” 

Solas wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We will know soon enough.” He stated pulling her closer. “Come... it is late, and we need to rest for whatever we find on the island.” 

Chapter Text

The seas were calm the next morning as Amanatha and her companions prepared the boat for departure. Unfortunately, there was only enough room for four people, so Amanatha had Solas, Dorian and Iron Bull accompany her to the island. Normally, she would have had Cole come with her in place of the apostate, but the spirit of compassion had decided to stay in Skyhold. The voyage to the island was the opposite of peaceful. Their destination was experiencing low tide, and they could see an alarming number of water-logged corpses. Thankfully though, they no longer had a scent that would suggest they were fresh. As they took their first steps on the island, Amanatha was rather surprised at the sheer size of it. There were rock formations near the shores, and what looked to be an ancient willow tree in the distance. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of spirits wandering the shoreline. Some would stop to observe the Inquisitor and her company but otherwise left them alone.  

“Anyone else smell sea-air and spice?” Iron Bull suddenly blurted out.   

Amanatha glanced over her shoulder. “You mean, aside from the fact that we are on the shoreline next to the ocean?”  

“Yeah.”  

“ Amatus ,” Sighed the Tevinter mage, “your mind is being influenced by the spirits here. They’re drawing sorrow from you like you’d draw water from a well.”  

The qunari shuddered. “If that was supposed to ease my mind, it had the opposite effect.”  

They pressed inland, making their way towards the tree when Amanatha’s little hummingbird guide abruptly shot off from her shoulder to perch on the branch of the willow. The spirits soon began to swarm the company, but they made no effort to attack them. Iron Bull was about to turn around and march back to the boat when Dorian managed to snag the horned man by the arm, halting his process. Solas was curiously listening to the spirits trying to garner why there was so many spirits as well as what brought them to island. They managed to arrive at the tree only to find that the hummingbird was not alone. It had a friend, slightly bigger than the guide but had similar colors. Just as Amanatha was about to speak to the birds, they both bolted to the northeast, towards a dilapidated shack. Not wasting any time, Amanatha chased after them, ignoring the startled cries of her companions. By the time they arrived at the shack, the Inquisitor’s left palm began glowing with a pale green light and a body in the center of the building followed suit, creating a small yet unstable rift. The Dalish woman turned towards Solas. After carefully examining the rift, the apostate confirmed that it ancient. He suggested it had formed from the battle that took place on the island and was caused by the Breach.   

“We’ve looked everywhere else on this island. Shall we see what’s inside the rift?” Amanatha asked with a curious smile.  

Everyone gave her a small nod, Amanatha lifted his left hand and closed her eyes. Green and bright purple lightning sprang forth on to the old rift. The sound of ice cracking could be heard then a soft pop ruptured from the rift as a wave green washed over the area. Hovering over the body was a gold spirit swaying in circles in surprise before the small hummingbird’s friend perched itself on to the spirit’s shoulder. The spectral being turned around and gazed at the group of people before it. “Telana slept… I slept.” It began then stopped itself as though trying to correct itself. “To find him in dreaming… but I… the blood… I’m… she’s… gone. Telana wanted to reach Ameridan again, one more time, but she couldn’t. I couldn’t. I died... I left our baby behind... I tried to stay but only pieces came through. You opened the sky for the rest of me.”  

“Pain drew the wraiths, but this spirit touched the mind of someone who cared for Inquisitor Ameridan.” Solas informed the group watching Amanatha approach the spirit.  

It nodded at the mage’s deduction. “Ameridan. Yes. Inquisitor. Beloved. I… she… came searching for Ameridan as he hunted the dragon. Huge… power like none had seen. It came from the mountains with the Avvar. Towns fell, all dead. One last favor for Emperor Drakon. Slay the Avvar-dragon, save Orlais.”  

A range of emotions danced across the Inquisitor’s face. Ameridan was sent to kill the dragon by order of Emperor Drakon but from the tone the spirit was using, Telana did not want him to go because she had a child. Then her expression changed to anger when she recalled that there was no history on Ameridan when she sought the knowledge after her original dream. “How could history just forget that?!”  

The spirit shook its head once more. “Not forgotten. Forbidden. Darkspawn in the north, all of Orlais afraid. No one could know. Orlais must stand unstained, no fear to falter. Please, my friend. For both our peoples .”  

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Amanatha hissed, clenching her fists then jolted when she felt the spirit touch her cheek soothingly. “Apologies...”  

“You have his eyes, our beloved... and our baby.” It said with a sad smile. “You even have the same aura as him...”  

The Dalish blinked in surprise but remained quiet for a moment. Then another question sprang forth. “Do you happen to remember what happened on the battlefield?”   

The spirit nodded again and pulled away, the hummingbird on its shoulder ruffling its wings in response. “They fought at the shore. Spirits and magic, cold, so cold. How I found her, how she found us. They rested here, then up the river. Metal spires. A way to stop the dragon. Then Telana returned here alone to wait for him... To bring him home in the west where their son waited for them. Forever waiting. Dreaming… then dead... Oh, Lingrean... I’m sorry...”  

“Lingrean...” Solas repeated then almost smacked his palm to his forehead. “Lingrean was the name on the letters in the trunk belonging to your grandfather’s ancestors, Vhenan .”  

“That explains the name Telana. She was Lingrean’s mother...” Amanatha recalled then felt her own eyes widen. “Wait... that would mean-”  

“You are a direct descendant of the First Inquisitor.” Solas finished her train of thought.  

Telana’s spirit seemed to smile at the revelation. It had no doubt that she would have been honored to see a great grand-child. The Veil shuddered around them and the Dalish woman gasped before shaking herself from her initial shock. They didn’t have much time. Amanatha held out her hand towards the spirit. “We’ll find Ameridan. You do not have to wait here anymore.” She said and the spirit sighed in relief and rested a ghostly hand on the Inquisitor’s. It… Telana… went a long time ago. It stayed because she asked. It glanced to the hummingbird on its shoulder then back at Amanatha.  

“A piece of her still stays in this bird... she wants to come with you.”   

Amanatha smile as she lifted her hand from the spirit then opened her palm for the second ghostly hummingbird to perch within it. It did so happily, nesting close to the smaller one as she pulled her hand away. “I will reunite them with Ameridan when I find them.” She promised as the Veil shimmered and faded along with the spirit. “Rest easy, spirit.” Soon, the atmosphere became silent with only the distance crashing of waves and gentle caress of the wind for ambience. They were about to leave when Dorian found a well-preserved piece of parchment in the knapsack beside Telana’s body. His eyes scanned it before widening and he handed it to Amanatha who collected it with her left hand.   

Whosoever reads this message,  

Let it be known that the bearer, Inquisitor Ameridan, Commander of the Seekers of Truth, travels to the Frostback Basin on the official request of His Divine Majesty Kordillus Drakon, Emperor of Orlais, upon business vital to the safety and security of this most holy empire, and that he and those who travel with him are to be afforded every service, rendered every assistance, and extended every courtesy in their effort to protect Orlesian lives from threats both magical and mundane.  

Maker watch over him,  

Kordillus Drakon I  

Just as she finished reading the decree, she watched as the parchment pulsed with a pale green light and the elf woman felt a strange surge of magic wash over her, blanketing her in the energy. Dorian and Solas quickly caught her as she swayed unsteadily, the hummingbirds quickly flying into the rafters as she held her forehead, short pants leaving her lungs. Whatever happened left her winded and tired and that was more than enough for them to leave the island and return to the mainland. Dorian and Bull dealt with prepping the boat while Solas got the Inquisitor settled within it. He noticed the hummingbirds hovering around them chirping worriedly around Amanatha but he offered them a kind smile. “Do not worry.” He reassured them. “She is merely exhausted from her magic overloading.”  

Upon arriving back to shore and returning the boat, Arvid brought his company some soup as thanks before departing back to his hut. While the Inquisitor slept soundly on her bedroll, Solas brought the rest of the company up to speed then handed Cassandra the decree. As the Seeker scanned the contents, she was stunned at the discovering, constantly glancing from the letter to Amanatha. “Well, that explains her natural ability to lead.” Blackwall finally spoke, breaking the tension. “But to think she’s related to the first Inquisitor who was also the first leader of the Seekers is rather phenomenal.”  

“She is definitely not short in the supply of surprises.” The Seeker stated as she handed the note back to Solas. “We’ll return to Kenric with the information. For now, we’ll let her rest. What exactly happened to her?”  

Solas turned his head to stare at the sleeping woman behind him. “If I were to venture a guess, I’d say her magic reacted to the residual enchantments within the paper and it fused with hers too quickly causing her to feel overwhelmed.”  

“Is that common among mages?”   

Solas chuckled a little. “Not among common mages.”  

He knew his reply was cryptic but in honesty, he didn’t want to divulge what she was to them. Firstly, because it was not his place. Secondly, it was not their business and lastly, they would not fully comprehend what he meant. Cassandra gave him a skeptical look but shrugged and returned to her bedroll. Once everyone was asleep, Solas unrolled his own blanket and laid down beside Amanatha, smiling when he felt her wrap around his.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Kenric stared at the Inquisitor, a blank look of shock plastered on his face. She had just finished explaining to him about the spirit on the island, though she excluded the fact that she was related to the First Inquisitor, and how it held the memories and possessions of Ameridan’s lover, a woman named Telana. She finished off the tale by telling the scholar the spirit told them that Ameridan was here on orders from Emperor Drakon himself and where he went next. The scholar blinked once the Inquisitor finished her explanation. Amanatha was expecting disappointment but to her relief and surprise, the Fereldan scholar looked positively giddy. “Andraste’s dimples, I may have received tenure from that sentence alone.” Kenric exclaimed excitedly. “Ameridan had a lover. Telana, you said? The Inquisitor’s lady mage! There was such debate over whether she existed! And there were orders? This was a request from Drakon? This changes everything!”  

“You don’t have a problem receiving information from spirits?” Solas asked, rather baffled at the expression on Kenric’s face. “Most people are terrified of the thought.”  

Kenric shrugged. While it was not ideal, since they found corroborating physical evidence, he, himself, saw no serious issue. Any study of great wars and battlefields carries an inherent risk of contact with demons or spirits. This he knew and when spirits were willing to talk, most historians love the chance of a firsthand report. He continued to read the parchment, a serious gaze on his face. When Dorian prompted the man on how this information changed history, the man gave the Tevinter a small but sad smile. “It changes everything. One current theory holds that Ameridan was selfishly throwing off his responsibilities to go hunting. Another suggests Drakon had him removed or even killed, because Ameridan opposed the Nevarran Accord. But if this is true, then Ameridan was a loyal servant of Orlais! He was not an embarrassment. He was a patriot protecting Orlais while Drakon fought in the Second Blight.”  

“And what about Telana?” Amanatha inquired.  

Kenric cleared his throat. “Ah. Yes, this Telana you mentioned. Her existence has been hotly debated as well. Some scholars took Inquisitor Ameridan’s respect for the Chantry to imply that he remained celibate. In ages past, there were stories about him and his lover, a mage. They made it out to be a star-crossed romance. The Chantry silenced the stories strenuously.”  

“ Ahnsul ?” She turned towards Solas who shook his head uncertain. “When we helped the Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold, we learned that the Jaws of Hakkon once bound their god’s soul to a beast. According to the spirit, the dragon Ameridan faced was powerful… and accompanied by hostile Avvar.”  

Kenric hummed thoughtfully. “You believe they could be one and the same? That would mean…” His eyes widen and he smacked his cheek with his palm. “Of course, of course! Brilliant! 800 years ago, the Second Blight threatened a weak Orlais. A perfect time for the Avvar to attack. This Avvar-god dragon could have endangered the Orlesian empire, had Ameridan not stopped it. That explains why he would accept such a dangerous mission… and likely how he died.”  

“And a high dragon given malice and magic by an Avvar god-spirit could hypothetically destroy much of Orlais.” Dorian surmised then shuddered. “At least, I hope that was hypothetically.”  

“Inquisitor Ameridan saved Orlais eight hundred years ago from a dragon fused with a god . It’s time to honor his legacy that history purposely chose to forget.” Amanatha stated icily. “The spirit said something about spires along the river. That’s where we’ll look.”  

The woman wandered over towards her dracolisk, smiling softly as the hummingbird spirits found purchase atop the mount’s horns. She quickly climbed on and turned towards her companions. Cassandra helped the dwarf onto her mount while Blackwall assisted Sera. Bull already had Dorian sitting comfortably behind him. Solas accepted the offered hand of the Inquisitor before the group made their way towards the river. It was a relatively quiet ride as they rode alongside the rushing river. They were just about to take a break when Sera pointed towards something on the distant hilltop across the way. Not wasting anymore time, the company rode towards the structure. As they approached the structure, they discovered that it was a statue made of metal and in the shape of a dragon’s head. There was even a lever in the back of the spire's head.  

“This looks familiar...” Amanatha finally said as she stared at the figure.  

“How so, M’Lady?”  

Amanatha glanced at Blackwall then pointed in the direction the dragon head was facing. “If I recall my dream correctly, there are more dragons facing that direction which leads to a massive wall of ice conjured by magic, and we won’t be able to get through it.” She then turned Thestral around and pointed behind the dragon head. “Where we need to go and it's also the path the hummingbirds want us to take, is the opposite direction the head are facing.”  

“So, we’re following weird birdy spirits, yeah?” Sera questioned with a shudder. “That’s great...”  

“Everyone still up for traveling a little bit longer?”  

“Absolutely not!” Dorian cried out exasperatedly. “We’ve been riding for over three hours! My ass can’t stand being in this saddle for much longer.”  

Iron Bull chuckled, glancing down at the Tevinter. “You just sit in my lap.”  

Dorian froze. “On second thought, the saddle is just fine. Come on, let’s keep going but I demand we rest when we reach our destination.”  

Amanatha and Solas shook their heads in amusement before the Inquisitor urged her mount onwards. The sound of the birds chirping and other wildlife wandering about was a pleasant ambience. The wind sifted through the branches overhead, whistling through the leaves creaking and bending the sunlight with each rustle. They found several more heads that soon brought them to an abandoned Tevinter ruin. When Amanatha questioned Dorian on what the building once was, the Tevinter mage merely stated it was probably built by a sad, mid-level bureaucrat who thought building an outpost here would be a career boost. They made their way into what appeared to be a massive courtyard with two doors. One on the right and other on the left. Before them were nine strange looking tiles. On the wall before them, was a strange picture of sorts. What it was, not even Dorian knew. For the moment, the Inquisitor and her companions would rest here for then night while they awaited Harding to bring the scholar here.  

Solas and Dorian were busy setting up wards around the camp while Sera, Cassandra and Blackwall got the tents set up. Varric was busy getting a fire going while Amanatha and Iron Bull went hunting for their dinner for the evening. When the qunari and the Dalish Inquisitor returned with some fresh fish, Solas couldn’t help but smile up at the woman. When she came to sit beside him and get their meal going, Solas could not stop himself. He opened his mouth a short scripture left his lips. “ Ar dirthan'as ir elgara, ma'sula e'var vhenan .”  

“Pppbbthh!”  

Both Amanatha and Solas turned their heads to find Sera sticking her tongue out at the apostate. “Excuse me?” Glared the man.  

“Excuse yourself, whatever you said and what I did, same difference to me.” Spat the city elf venomously.  

Solas felt his brow furrowing and Amanatha could feel that the mage was getting riled up. “I do not know why you felt offended, because I was not speaking to you.”  

“I know you were speaking to Inquisi-tits there.” Sera rolled her eyes. “Know what else is good? Words that mean things. Like these. Words.”  

“ Persvek ma anor naam ar ame wer vun, ma dastudr ui el kajoa vhenan .” Amanatha replied with a smirk and Solas cracked a warm grin. Sera thankfully gave up her mission to irritate the apostate and decided to mess with the Grey Warden. Once they were alone, Solas leaned against Amanatha and rested his chin atop her head. Varric looked up from his meal and smirked at the adorable sight before him. Chuckles and Spitfire always looked sickly cute when they were together. He turned his head to his right where he spotted Cassandra reading the sequel to his serial and felt his smirk twist into an amused grin. He spotted Sparkles sneaking off to his tent with the qunari and rolled his eyes knowingly. He finished off his meal and stretched his arms before retiring to his own tent. Soon, it was only Solas who remained by the smoldering fire as he offered to take the first watch. The mage bade the Inquisitor goodnight and turned his head up to the starry sky above. Unbeknownst to him, Sera had stealthily invaded the Inquisitor’s tent then disappeared back to her own tent.

Chapter Text

Amanatha was awoken by a startled yell followed by a series of Elvhen curses and something skittering over the foot of her bedroll. She sat up to find Solas plucking lizard after lizard from his bedroll. “ Ar'm daral ekess dala mah asha !” Hissed the man as he watched the last of the reptiles scamper away. The elvhen pair could hear the city elf laughing in the tent next to them and Solas growled in annoyance. Amanatha lightly patted his shoulder and gently pulled his head down so she could whisper in his ear. “Why not prank her back?” Whispered the woman. “She hates magic and the Fade, why not suggest teaching her magic?”  

“Seriously?”  

Amanatha nodded her head. “Give it a try.”