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Chapter Text

The dungeon was dark and Rowan felt a shiver begin in her spine as she opened her eyes. The smell of blood and moss hit her nose, making her gag slightly.

Taking a shuddering breath through her mouth, she lifted her unreasonably heavy head and saw she was surrounded by guards. Their armor was dented and tarnished, well used and dangerous. The look of danger was completed by a ring of swords (actual metal swords) pointed towards her.

“Tergen! Get the Seeker!” One of the guards shouted from beneath a faceless helmet, causing her to flinch. One of the other guards sheathed his sword and ran for the door, closing it with a clang behind him.

The chained girl watched the speaking guard warily as he came towards her. “So, you're up now. I'm sure the Seeker wouldn't mind us getting a few licks in” Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to ask what he meant when an armored fist met her cheek, causing her to fall sideways to the floor.

The guard didn't stop though and he grabbed a hold of her dresses collar, stretching the soft cream fabric. He raised his hand to deliver another hit and paused at the dungeon door slamming open. Two women walked in, along with the guard who ran out earlier.

“Ah, Seeker. Just in time. Thought I should get a few hits in on this bitch before you take care of her” The guard grinned beneath his helmet, yellowed and crooked teeth showcased beneath the fire-lit metal. One of the women frowned and narrowed her bright eyes as the other watched the girl with a blank look.

“Argus, stand down. She will get her dues soon enough.” The dark haired woman motioned for ‘Argus’ to move away. “Go with Tergen to the front camp. We need someone to escort the apostate and Master Tethras to the rift”

Argus made a noise and dropped the girl, letting her crumple with a whimper to the floor. “As you wish Seeker” He aimed a petulant kick to her side and strode out of the dungeon, yelling for the scout.

The Seeker turned to her prisoner. The young woman was dressed in what used to be a nightgown, now ripped and stained with ash. Her hazel eyes peaked out from behind strawberry blonde hair, showcasing the bruising around her eye and around her cheekbone.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” The armored woman circled the girl and watched her eyes widen and the girl looked like she was about to cry. The Seekers brow furrowed, about to order the girl to answer before she said the words Cassandra had hoped she would never hear in this situation.

“Please, I don't know what you're talking about! Why are you doing this to me?” The girl had practically sobbed Cassandra’s soulmark, the only other one she had besides-

“Don't lie to me!” Cassandra wrenched the girl's wrist, turning her hand to show the green gash along her palm. “What is this? Explain!”

“I can't! I swear I don't know what's going on!”

Cassandra growled. “Stop lying!” She raised a hand, only for her wrist to be gripped by Leliana.

“Enough Cassandra. We need her” The Nightingale led her towards the door and searched her eyes. “You are normally more composed. What has you so on edge?”

Cassandra looked back at the bruised and crying girl. “She said my words Leliana. I just lost him, and now his killer is saying my words.”

Leliana sucked air through her teeth. “Are you sure?”

Cassandra nodded and Leliana looked at the prisoner. “How about I do the talking next? It will give you time to get the plan ready for the front march.” The Nightingale stepped forwards, slippers quiet against the stone floor. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” To her surprise, the girls face fell even more, and she slumped down, with a whimper.

“This wasn't how it was supposed to be. For either of you” the whisper was quiet, almost too quiet to hear, but the meaning was clear. Cassandra twitched and Leliana met her eyes with a nod. Turning away, Cassandra growled.

“We are getting nowhere. Leliana, go to the forward camp. We will meet you there” Cassandra unfurled a length of rope from her belt and nodded towards the door.

The Hands brushed shoulders as Leliana left and Cassandra knelt before her prisoner. The manacles were undone quickly and the rope was tied roughly around her pale wrists.

“Where are you taking me?” Her voice was timid, as if she thought silence was better, but her curiosity had gotten better of her.

“You will see soon enough” The Seeker replied tersely.

Standing, she helped the girl up and paused as she got sight of her legs. Or rather, leg.

Hiding beneath the gown, the metal of her fake leg stood out against the cream of her nightgown. It was a simple pole, connected by hinges and disappearing underneath the gown. Slowly, Cassandra looked up from her prisoner's leg and saw only resignation in her verdant eyes.

“Can we go now?”

Speechless, the Seeker nodded and continued leading her forward until they reached a small pile of gear. She untied her prisoner for a moment and tossed her the clothes.

“That gown won't protect you. This is all we can spare.”

The clothes were simple, standard recruit fare. A mostly grey woolen tunic, simple breeches, boots and a leather chassis. The girl looked up at her and when she saw Cassandra wouldn't turn, she stripped quietly.

Cassandra’s eyes widened as more of her prisoner was revealed. All over her pale body were Marks. Bronze, Silver and Gold words swirled around her body and Cassandra saw her own precise writing on the girl's right shoulder before it was covered by the grey woolen tunic. The metal of her leg, she realized, went up halfway and was held in place by a sleeve of black fabric and a metal button. The breeches went on quickly, draping loosely over the pole and the boots were slipped on shortly after.

After retying her hands, they walked into the grey and white landscape of Haven. Cassandra didn't miss the sharp inhale that came from the prisoner and turned to see her gazing up at the Breach.

“It’s called the Breach. It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave.” Cassandra watches the expression on the girl's face and sees no sign of recognition, no sign of triumph. The only things lurking in her hazel eyes are confusion, fear, and sorrow.

“What exploded? How does an explosion make that? Also, what do you mean demons?” Brow furrowed, she looks at the Seeker who looked back impassively.

“That what we are trying to find out. And as for demons-” Cassandra was about to continue on when the Breach and the girl screamed out in unison.

Cassandra watched as the girl fell to her knees, and seized. She was quick to act, holding the girl as her body fought against the Mark in her hand. When the episode was done, her prisoner was sobbing and trembling like a leaf.

“Each time the Breach expands, your Mark does too. And it is killing you.” She spoke quietly into her shaking prisoner's ear, who let another small sob escape.

“What do we do?”

The Seeker was silent for a moment. “We must travel to the Breach. One of our allies has a theory that you may be able to close it. But it is only a theory.”

Panting heavily, the Prisoner met her gaze. “A theory is better than nothing. I'll do what I can”

The two of them continued forward slowly, the Prisoner following quietly behind. As they walked through the village, Cassandra listened with half an ear at the shouts towards her prisoner. At one point during her explanation to the girl, she heard a whistle, thud, and yelp in quick succession. Glancing behind her, she saw blood trickling from the girl's head and a rock at her feet. Shaking off her inkling of guilt, she tugged the girl forwards and ignored the urge to shield her.

They may have been Soulmates, but this girl killed him. Or was at the very least a witness to his death. She would give no pity to this girl.

She could give no pity to this girl.

They arrived on the bridge with little fanfare, most of the soldiers preparing for the Valley with narrow focus. Turning back to her prisoner, she pulled her dagger from her belt and saw the girl tense.

“I'm not going to harm you girl,” Cassandra said, making quick work of the bindings on the girl's hands.

“Rowan”

Pausing, the Seeker looked up from tucking her knife away. “Pardon?”

The girl met her eyes, for the first time looking like something other than a scared child. “My name. It’s Rowan. The very least you could do is use my name before I die”

They considered each other, eyes unwavering. Cassandra was the first to break, nodding slightly. “Rowan then. Come, your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach. We need to know it works before risking my soldiers”

“Yes ma’am”

“Open the gates! We are heading into the valley!” Cassandra strode past her soldiers and twitched at the noise Rowan made as she was tripped by a soldier. The soldier chuckled as Cassandra waited for her prisoner to get up, brushing snow off of her knees. As they were about to round the hill to the bridge, a pulse went through the air and Rowan gasped, going to her knees. But instead of screaming outright, Cassandra watched as Rowan folded over and gritted her teeth, holding her seizing left hand in a death grip. When the spasm passed, Rowan unfurled her stiff fingers, ignoring the imprint on her wrist.

Cassandra knelt in the snow and held out a hand. A pale hand slipped into hers as she helped a panting Rowan up. “They are coming faster now”

Rowan began to walk first, Cassandra watching her for another collapse.

She didn't have to wait long.

From the swirling sky, a comet made of crackling emerald energy hit the bridge just ahead of Rowan's feet, blasting it into pieces and sending both women flying.

Rowan blinked the blackness from her eyes and groaned. All around her was debris, crumbled stone and old wooden crates broken into pieces. Getting into a better position, she saw the crumpled form of her soulmate, the Seeker whose name she still couldn't place, sprawled motionless at the base of a group of crumbled stone.

Struggling, she got up and tried to go towards her, only to find herself stuck. Looking towards the source of the resistance, she saw her prosthetic was stuck between a pair of stones. Then she heard it.

Whispering.

Glancing back at the Seeker, she saw a form rising out of a pile of inky sludge. It was dressed in rags, with no discernable face beneath its ratty hood. It paused for a moment, looking between the trapped girl and her unconscious Mate before sliding slowly over to her Seeker.

“Seeker!” She screamed and her Soulmate didn't move. Her chest moved, but there was no twitch, no blinking awake as the Thing crept towards her Seeker.

Turning back to her trapped leg, she tore the breeches off her leg using a nearby dagger and undid her prosthetics socket. Grabbing the nearest stick, she balanced on her working leg and threw the sharp blade at the Shambler.

“Over here you pile of rags! Come and get me you moth ridden slut!” She shouted, using the staff to hobble her way to a pile of supportive stone. It pulled her knife from its chest and turned towards her, whispers intensifying.

With a chill, she saw the amalgamated mess of a face that thing has beneath its hood.

“Food” It whispered, in many voices that rang past her ears. “fOOD!” It rang like a klaxon siren in her head, sliding towards her with its claw-tipped hands outstretched.

Swearing, Rowan braced herself against the stones for balance, the stump of her leg pressed against crumbled bridge. As it got nearer, she saw her Seeker struggle upwards, blinking away fuzz.

“A little help would be nice!” She hollered, slashing at the Thing as it got closer. The Seeker looked towards her and focused on the Thing and followed Rowan's example by swearing.

Rowan jabbed at the Thing and focused on keeping it back until Cassandra was closer. She didn't wait long, seeing her Warrior charge the Thing and lop its head off in one smooth movement.

The two met eyes, Rowan clutching her staff in a death grip and Cassandra panting from her charge.

“You didn't run,” The Seeker said dumbly, causing Rowan to blink at her.

“Excuse me?”

“I was unconscious and there were demons. You didn't leave me. Why?”

Now, it was Rowan’s turn to stare blankly. “Because you're my Soulmate. You may have me as your prisoner for something I don't remember, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you be eaten by weird rag things.” She quietly hobbled over to where her leg was still sticking out from the rubble. “Kill me if you want, but I am not leaving your side.”

Digging her leg out, Rowan missed the surprised expression on Cassandra’s face as she mulled over the girl's words. The Seeker watched her struggle to free the metal limb before she walked over and lifted the last rock holding her leg.

Rowan was quick to slip on her socket, rocking into it slowly to get rid of the air bubbles to prevent blisters. Cassandra watched as she fit her leg back on, frowning at the tattered breeches.

“Wait. You breeches are just going to get tangled if you keep going like that.” Cassandra unsheathed her knife again and trimmed the breeches until most of Rowan's metal leg was bared. “There. Now you don't have to worry about the loose fabric getting caught in something.”

Rowan examined the trim-job and wiggled. “Hadn't thought of that. Thank you.”

The Seeker eyed her and nodded. “No thanks necessary. We need to keep going”

There was a quiet pause as Cassandra sheathed her knife and Rowan picked up her discarded spear.

“By the way, what the hell were those things?”

Chapter Text

Cassandra watched Rowan carefully as they continued on. It was obvious by the shaking in her hands that battle was unusual to the girl, added in with the softness of her hands and unmarred quality of her skin. But her back was straight and save for the slight wobble in her step and the flinch at the sight of the dead, she carried on, eyes forward and staff gripped tight.

The two stopped at the next hill and Cassandra frowned at the tableau. A pair of Shades slunk around, undulating against the black ice, pacing in circles.

“Okay, so let me get this straight” Rowan stared blatantly at the Shades, and slowly turned to Cassandra. “Those rag-things are demons. Like actual demons, things that possess people?”

A sigh. “Yes. The Breach caused many types of demons to crossover. Luckily, Shades are relatively weak compared to some of the... other things we could encounter.”

Rowan gave her a wide-eyed look. “It didn't feel weak when it was coming towards me about to eat me!” She hissed the last part of the sentence and Cassandra gave her a look.

“They will not harm you. I am here to keep you alive until the Breach is closed. Now stay here while I deal with these” Rowan wrung her hands against her staff as Cassandra jumped down and rolled, going immediately into a fighting stance. The Shades turned in unison, ragged mouths underneath ragged hoods. Cassandra was quick to engage the first, but Rowan saw the second coming from behind her, emaciated arms ready to strike.

“Cassandra! Behind you!” She shouted, hoping the Seeker would listen.

She didn't.

The swing hit the Seeker, knocking her off balance in the middle of her own. The Shade she was fighting took advantage, lunging forward to attack.

Thinking quickly, Rowan reversed her grip on the staff, glad for the arrow-pointed tip on it and whistled through her teeth. The Shades head snapped up and she launched the spear, throwing it like a javelin and hitting it in the head, driving it into the ground with the force.

Cassandra stared at the twitching pole with wide eyes and looked up to where Rowan stood, throwing rocks at the Shade behind her. The Seeker got back on her feet quickly and turned, running the distracted shade through with her sword. After it was gone and only its essence remained, she paused to catch her breath.

The sound of cracking ice made her turn and she was greeted by the sight of Rowan trying to pull her spear from left-over rags made by the Shade. The spear was stuck fast and Rowan was clearly having trouble getting enough leverage to pull it free from the thick ice.

“Here, allow me” Cassandra walked over and braced her foot against the spot where the spear met ice and wiggled it loose before pulling it free. The spear was passed to Rowan who examined the integrity of the spearhead.

“That was a well-placed throw. I thought you hadn't fought before, but I guess I was wrong”

Rowan paused in her checking and looked up to her with nervous eyes. “I was aiming for its chest.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Cassandra made a noise and turned away, motioning for Rowan to follow. The ice was slippery under their feet and Cassandra watched as Rowan kept her balance by sliding her feet in a steady waddle pattern, the soles of her boots sliding easily against it.

The next demons they saw were separated and Cassandra frowned.

“Rowan, you handle the Wraith on the hill. I will deal with the Shade”

Rowan looked at her blankly. “What”

“I cannot deal with both, and even someone as weak as you are should be able to handle a Wraith” With the remark, Cassandra charged forward, shield ahead of her and surprised the Shade with a shield bash, followed quickly by a feint to the left. Rowan swallowed her fear and went up the hill, walking carefully on the icy stone and snow.

It was then that she got a better look at the thing she was fighting. It looked like a ghost from an old story, wispy and made of things not quite real. It looked away from Cassandra and the Shade, facing her with a facsimile of a face.

The two of them stood there for a moment, Rowan absorbing the swirled and faded features across its gossamer body. The peace was broken by the Wraith, its features twisting and gathering something around its misshapen arm.

Rowan could feel as the bolt was fired, moments before it appeared in the air between them. She swung left and ran forward. The wonder from meeting something new was gone and Rowan raised her spear and thrust forward, expecting mist and no resistance.

But instead, the mist was semi-solid like jello and the spear slid into the Wraith like a hot knife into a stick of butter. Then it screamed.

Rowan jumped at the sound and felt something click in her mind, her vision going white.

Blackened stone, someone holding her hand, red and white and gold against the green and gray mists, where was she, what was happening, there was someone waiting for her-

“Rowan!” Cassandra was in front of her, shaking her shoulders with a too-tight grip. Her eyes were wide and there was a flitter of fear in them.

“Seek’r?” She blinked, head feeling fuzzy and wrong. “Wha’ happ’n?” Her words were slurred and she was having trouble staying vertical.

“You killed the Wraith” Cassandra motioned to the sparking pile of goo a few feet from them. “Again, you surprise me. Novice mages don't do well with that big of a spell.”

Cassandra pulled Rowan up roughly and turned away, ignoring the wide eyes and open mouth from the woman behind her.

“Come, we don't have much time!” She shouted behind her.

Rowan looked at the still sparking staff in her hand and the violet arcs of lightning still surrounding the arrow-shaped tip. A hard swallow and some very careful breaths later, she followed Cassandra. A part of her hoped, wished that she was in a dream, a very painful, bloody dream.

But dreams don't hurt, and right now, both her heart and her hand were burning.

The next stretch had Cassandra doing most of the work again, the Seeker looking back to her, and furrowing her brow at the blank look in her green eyes. Soon, Cassandra heard the sounds of clinking metal and fire.

“I can hear the fighting! Quickly!”

Rowan followed closely and paused at the top of the ridge, taking in the scene before her. The soldiers from before were fighting along two new figures, one with a staff covered in layers of hoar-frost and the other wielding a fairly large crossbow, firing towards the ragged Shades.

But the largest portion of her vision was the verdant crystal, spinning like a mobile in the middle of the snow-covered stone.

She felt her feet move forwards, drawn to the discordant noise and flickering images hidden in the crystal. She felt a swipe to her person and ignored it, focusing on the crystal. She remembered reaching for it, and then someone holding her wrist, spreading her fingers to help.

“Quickly, before more come through!” A voice broke through the crystalline fog, and she met sharp blue-violet eyes set in a marble smooth face.

‘Oh’ A quiet thought crossed her mind before her hand latched onto the spinning crystal before her, and then she was-

Confusion, pain, too real, where am I? Despair, fear, who are you?-

It reached for her and she felt the meeting point, halfway between her hand and heart. It burned like tar on bare skin and ached like broken bones during a storm. It warmed her skin like fresh sunshine and soothed the ache in her chest with soft ice.

It was wrong. The sensations promised more, so much more, if she kept it open, ripped the space around it to shreds like a cat shredding a curtain. More, more, moRE.

Its greed was its downfall.

She followed the magic, onto the edges and grasped, pulling at the slippery border. The ripped edges came together like a puzzle, fitting and clicking into place with little guidance. With one last rush of tar and sunshine, the crystal shattered and Rowan collapsed, feeling like throwing up.

She looked up, panting, to the man who had helped her. A wry smile crossed her mouth.

“You know, I always thought it would be zombies. I'm not sure if this is better or worse” She watched his eyes widen and the sharp inhale that followed.

“You-” He closed his mouth with a click. “I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, but I feel it would be inappropriate for the situation”

A huff of laughter. “Agreed”

Rowan staggered to her feet and watched his eyes go from her cradled hand, down to the shining metal of her leg. An emotion she couldn't name crossed his eyes before it was shut away behind a polite mask.

“You can ask you know. It doesn't bother me” His eyes flickered up to hers, carefully blank.

His mouth opened, closed and then opened again. “Perhaps later”

“So, question. Did that really just happen?”

“It appears so. I had theorized that the mark upon you had would be able to close the rifts, due to the cause of such a thing. I am glad I was correct.”

“Meaning it could close the Breach” An accented voice spoke from behind Rowan and Cassandra stood to her left.

“Possibly” The man nodded to Cassandra. He then looked to Rowan. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation”

“Good to know. Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever” A smooth baritone caused Rowan to turn and she was greeted by the sight of the man with the crossbow. Golden eyes met hers and a smirk crossed his face. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong” He winked at Cassandra, who made the noise again before she walked away to dismiss her soldiers waiting by the broken wall.

“You know, even with you saying your name, you are very hard to find” Rowan retorted, and watched the smile slide from his face.

“Well, shit”

Chapter Text

Rowan stared at the stairs before her. Her leg had never been the best, a pretty simple thing used for basic movement more than anything else. Unless she was really doing something, she normally used her crutches for most of her walking. But now her leg was getting sore and there were a set of stairs in front of her.

Cassandra passed her, oblivious to Rowan’s mental screaming. Solas followed, giving her a cursory look before moving on. But it was Varric who stopped and actually asked her what was wrong.

“You alright? You look a little daunted.”

Rowan gave him a look. “I am missing a leg Mr. Tethras. Stairs are not my friend.”

Varric’s brow furrowed. “I suppose that is a problem. Anythi-”

“What is taking so long? We must get her to the forward camp!” Cassandra yelled down, frowning at the two of them.

“She can't get up the stairs Seeker! Give us a second!” Varric yelled back, turning back to Rowan. “As I was saying, anything I can do?”

Rowan looked up to the expectant Seeker and Solas waiting at the top of the hill and shook her head. “I'll be fine”

Carefully, Rowan lifted her leg and began to slowly make progress up the stairs, two at a time. Her right leg led and the left swung up when she got to the step. She watched Varric out of the corner of her eye, hands at his sides but ready to catch her.

Dammit, she had been doing this for eight years. She wasn't a fucking invalid. She passed Solas wordlessly and silently cheered when Cassandra fell into step next to her.

“So... are you innocent?” The question came from Varric, following closely to next to Solas.

Rowan furrowed her brow. “Honestly? I can't quite remember. I was at home, getting ready for bed after work, then I woke up in a dungeon with people punching me”

Solas made a noise from her left, but when she looked, his face was impassive and staring forwards.

At the next set of steps, Rowan forged onwards, ignoring the pain radiating from the left side of her body. The awkwardness of her climbing the stairs was balanced by the anger she got out by killing the Wraiths at the top of the hill. Varric gave a low whistle after she sliced through the first and dispatched the second easily, pushing away the feeling of static coming from the staff. She was definitely not ready to use whatever power she had, nor did she want to either pass out or hurt her new Soulmates. There was too many things that could go wrong with it and she would take no chances.

Maybe if she survived this thing on her hand, she could learn more.

Cassandra finished her Shade, a faster one with a huge crest on its back, and looked to the Breach with a pensive expression.

“I hope Leliana made it through all of this” Her voice is softer and Rowan resists the urge to peel off her right shoe.

“She’s resourceful, Seeker” Varric comments, putting away his crossbow (Rowan wonders why her name is Bianca when there is nothing white or blank about her) away. He touches her Seeker gently on the arm and Rowan pushes away a surge of jealousy. She is Cassandra’s prisoner and Varric is at the very least known to her. Even as both of their Soulmate, she has no room to say or do anything.

“We will see for ourselves when we get to the forward camp. We are almost there.” Solas says quietly from behind Rowan and she gives a little jump. He glances at her as he walks to stand next to her. “Are you well? You look pale”

Rowan resists a snarky comment back and gives him a (hopefully) reassuring look. “I'm fine. Just sore” And in pain, and wanting to go home, and also probably dying.

He gives her another concerned look, which she answers with a warmer fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice.

The four of the continue on, Rowan resolutely looking at each of the faces of the dead on both sides. Most of them are burned and the bodies were broken and limp like ragdolls.

But, halfway up, she begins to hear something. It’s faint, a gentle ringing in the back of her head that makes her teeth hurt.

‘Come and see, come on, we are waiting, come, come coME’

They arrive at the top of the hill to see another Rift burst open, a pair of Wraiths and Shades clawing their way into the world. Rowan watches, detached, as Cassandra and Varric leap into the fray, and Solas swings his staff from his back. She focuses on the whispering, misshapen crystal in front of her, trying to remember how to connect.

It comes back faster than she thought.

The rift connects in a flash, whipping out and striking her hand. The feeling of static is replaced with the warm embrace of sunshine. But it's the feeling of lips against her ear that trips her up.

“She could be yours, she could love you with all of her heart” A flash of Cassandra, smiling and sitting beneath a tree flashes into her mind. “They all could, all yours, ripe for the picking” The image of Cassandra is joined by Varric, crossbow-less with a quill and notebook, and Solas, making light patterns in the air. Leliana swung her legs in the branches and ten faceless silhouettes ringed the tree. “All you have to do it keep it open, let me through”

Rowan struggled for breath as the taste of sunshine grew cloying and slid phantom tendrils down her throat. Not today Satan. She drew silently on the lessons her mother had taught her, the grounding and shielding all but drilled into her by her very spiritual mother. The first flicker of indigo-white sparks surprised her, going out as her focus shifted. Centering herself, the sparks came again, invading the flames in her hand.

“What are you doing!? You will ruin everything!” Images of her soulmates, dead on the ground flashed through her mind as the rift closed. Swallowing bile, Rowan curled her hand into a fist and pulled, ignoring the enraged scream that echoed through her head.

The young woman fell to her knees, hand cradled to her ribs as she struggled not to vomit. A hand on her shoulder made her look up as Cassandra shouted for the door to open.

“Are you alright to keep going?” Solas pulled his hand away, fingers leaving ghosts of warmth on her thin leather chassis.

“I'm fine” she croaked in response, before clearing her throat. “Promise”

He raised a slender auburn brow but said nothing as she used her staff to stagger upwards, adjusting her leg.

They walked over to the door together, where Cassandra and Varric were waiting.

The bridge as Rowan saw it was a mess. Bodies of both the living and the dead littered the ash and snow-covered stone. There were scattered crates and a wagon sitting off to one side. A young woman in half-familiar red, gold and white garment sat next to a man who was being stitched up. Red covered the surgeon's hands and Rowan looked away quickly, eyes roaming for something else to look at.

Her attention was caught by the sight of a purple hood and silvery metal. Leliana and a man in the familiar robes were standing next to a desk, heads tilted down, but clearly agitated.

As they grew closer, Rowan could hear them arguing. Leliana wanted to move forwards whilst the man wanted to fall back. Both of them were adamant about their points but Rowan found herself cheering for Leliana. There was too much to lose if they fell back.

Cassandra stopped a few feet from the desk and the robed man turned from Leliana to look at their small group. Immediately, the man’s eyes locked on Rowan’s hand and a sneer crossed his face.

Leliana tried to introduce them, but the old man cut her off, still staring into Rowan's eyes.

“I am aware of who she is.” He seethed. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I command you to take her to Val Royeux for execution” With his statement, he swung his eyes to Cassandra, a half-feral smile on his wrinkled face.

“You command me? You are a clerk, a glorified bureaucrat!”

The two bickered for a moment before Leliana tried to cut in, only to be cut down. Rowan ground her teeth, angry on both of her soulmates behalf. Especially when she saw the tiny flinch in Cassandra’s face when the Divine was mentioned again.

“Enough bickering! Don't you think we should be caring about the rip in the sky before we deal with anything else?” She burst out, and immediately regretted it.

“You’re the reason it’s there in the first place!” The Chancellor barked, a strange fire in his eyes. He proceeded to continue his argument with Cassandra and Leliana, none of them noticing the pulse and expansion of the Breach until Rowan screamed, her marked hand shaking as she clutched it to her chest.

Once the mark and Rowan’s breathing calmed down, she looked up to see the half-pained half-angry expressions on her company's faces.

“Rowan. How do you think we should proceed?” Cassandra said, as firm and as gentle as she could with the Chancellor watching.

Rowan sighed and looked at the small map on the table. “We take the mountain path.”

After the Chancellor’s parting shot at Cassandra (and the resultant sparks from Rowan), the quartet began their journey up the mountain.

Chapter Text

Rowan resisted the urge to scream. The way up the mountain had been full of ladders, and climbing them was a nightmare. She given up halfway up the first ladder and took to letting her metal leg hang down while she climbed with her arms and used her other leg as support. Varric opened his mouth to comment (or offer help the less cynical part of her mind whispered) more than once, only to be silenced by her practically jumping onto the next ladder and beginning to scale it like a spider monkey.

Now her arms were sore, there were demons everywhere and the place was full of stairs.

May the Gods of her mother curse all stairs.

“Hey kid, you doing okay?” Varric eyed her from where she was wiping down her staff. “You’re muttering alot”

“I'm fine” she answered automatically, slinging the staff back onto her back. “Just want to get this done”

They finished the last set of stairs and Rowan swallowed the sigh of relief when she saw the bodies littered in front of the exit. Most of them were face down, ragdolled on the ash and snow covered ground. The only one that was face up was young woman, only slightly older than her. Rowan quietly bent over and closed her once-blue eyes, ignoring the fact that her chest had been split open.

Her skin was still warm.

Stairs could wait. Whoever did this deserved to be hunted down and torn apart by crows.

“This cannot be all of them” Cassandra mused aloud, counting the scattered bodies.

“Think the others are holed up ahead?” Rowan looked back to where Varric stood close to the Seeker, helping her roll over the other scouts.

“Our priority must be the Breach. If we do not seal it soon, no one will be safe” Solas added from the side, looking away from the bodies and instead gazing towards the Breach. A murmur went through them and they went forwards.

After a few steps, Rowan felt it. A whisper, the softest kiss. Claws against her cheek and fingers along her spine.

“Rift!” She went faster, ignoring the pain and the shouts of her companions. The whisper was different this time, darker and more sinister. Less cloying sunshine and more harsh saltwater against abraded skin.

She skidded to a halt mere steps from a Shade, its head bobbing as it went towards a downed scout. The hairs came up on the back of her neck as it turned to her and screamed. The sound was cut short by a bolt hitting its head, sinking in with a squealing thunk. Varric arrived next to her with a glare.

“You! What were you thinking?

She blinked at him for a moment. “Rift?”

A very angry Cassandra smacked another Shade about to claw the face off of one of the scouts and Solas blasted the other with vibrant ice while Rowan anchored herself to the saltwater rift. The feeling of drowning washed over her, subtly choking water filling her lungs and carrying her with it. But the surface was easy to find, saltwater letting her pass with ease, not minding the sting against her skin.

She came out with a lackluster pop and found the rift was still open, tiny puddles of green mist spread across the ground.

“Maker, why is it still open?” Cassandra wondered, sword still outstretched. A scout hobbled over to her, hand spread against her ribs.

“It could be that the rift is more powerful than the others. Perhaps there is something more to it” Solas used as the puddles erupted, pulling two new creatures into the world.

The new beings were tall, lanky things with mouths ripped open, stretched down to the base of their necks and claws the size of Rowan’s hand. One of them stood to its full height and turned its crooked head towards Rowan.

Then it disappeared.

“Form up! They come from below!” A scout shouted as she and two others fought the other one, knives and arrows flashing.

Rowan felt a hand grab her and swallowed her panic when she felt Cassandra pull her behind her, pushed between the Seeker and Varric, who was facing the other way, bolts at the ready. Looking around, she saw Solas on the fringe, alone. And the bubbling puddle behind him.

“Solas! Behind you!” She shouted and saw no sign that he had heard her. She moved forward to get out, only to have Cassandra pull her back.

“Stay here! I cannot have you running away when we are so close” The Seeker grabbed her arm, keeping her still.

Rowan met Cassandra’s eyes and popped the Seeker in the mouth. 

Cassandra staggered back and Rowan darted off, just as the green demon burst out of the puddle.

Solas was quick with his magic, hitting the demon in the legs with a blast of ice as it hit him from the side, sending the elf sprawling.

“Solas!” Rowan watched as he dazedly went up onto his elbows, the Terror stalking towards him. “Head down!” Thankfully, he immediately went flat again.

She skidded to a stop, right foot sideways. She hefted the spear and thought back to the Shades, to the Wraiths. The feeling of sunshine, tar and saltwater. Sparks in her veins. The staff flew, a javelin in the hands of a gladiator with a prayer to Jupiter on her chapped lips.

The staff hit the Terror in its neck, the blade striking into its elongated mouth. Then Rowans intent hit, the sparks bursting into a indigo cloud. The resulting scream made Rowan resist putting her hands over her ears as it writhed and finally laid still on the ground.

Ignoring the looks from her companions, she focused again on the rift. Saltwater under her skin, an abyss below. But she knew its trick now and pushed towards the light. She pulled the edges together, sealing it with the feeling of an undertow.

She came back to the world with a waver, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to the sight of snow.

“You are becoming proficient at this” Solas approached her from the side, with both of their staves in hand. He handed hers back, the blade still covered in ichor.

“Lets hope it works on the big one. Also, Cassandra looks like she is going to murder you” Varric pointed out, motioning to the bloodied Seeker talking to the scouts. Rowan sighed nodding.

“Time to face the music” She walked over to the Seeker, waiting patiently for her to dismiss the scout. After a moment, the scout left with her squad and Cassandra turned, nose bloodied and scowl set, to Rowan. “Before you yell at me, I'm sorry I punched you but it was the only way I could think of to have you let me go and Solas was in danger and-”

“Enough” Rowan looked up to Cassandra. “You must understand that there is more to this than a random apostate and you dying would ruin our chances of closing the Breach”

Chastised, Rowan looked down, trying to hold in her protests. Cassandra had a point, but everything in her body wanted to protest the potential of a blackened Mark.

“However” Rowan’s head shot up to see a weary look replace the anger. “I cannot say I would not do the same if it were my Marked.”

Rowan chewed her lips and presented her wrists to the Seeker. “I understand if you would prefer me bound” There was a pause before she felt Cassandra’s hand clasp around her wrist and lower them.

“I will not bind you. But please, do not punch me again”

“I’ll try”

The group of them continued on, facing towards the Breach. The next ladders were easy, Rowan sliding down with renewed determination. Soon, they arrived at the temple and Rowan saw the true cost of the Breach.

All around the temple were bodies, burned, twisted and some in the midst of screaming. The floor was still smoldering and the stones were still hot to the touch. Surrounding the area were walls of huge, blackened stone riddled with veins of sickly green that pulsed with her heartbeat.

“Here we are, the Temple of Sacred Ashes” Varric was standing next to her, amber gaze sweeping along the scattered, kneeling bodies. He looked up to her, something unknown in his eyes. His mouth opened for a moment, before closing without a single word passing his lips.

Near silent, Rowan walked amount the bodies, careful to not disturb the dead. The dead here were diverse. Bodies larger than Cassandra, horned and huge, bodies as small as Varric, lithe as Solas. Bodies, too small to be anything other than a child.

Rowan swallowed her bile. “Whoever did this will suffer” the words were unbidden, snarled in the quiet. She caught Cassandra’s looks from the corner of her eye and turned. “If I did this, do not take pity on me. I would not want you to.”

She rounded the corner alone, missing the exchange of expressions from her companions. She stopped, breath held as she saw the Breach up close for the first time.

It was beautiful.

All around its weeping tear was smoke, coloured like fresh grown grass and absinthe. The smell of roasted flesh gave way to saltwater, petrichor, and ozone, woven together like a quiet symphony. Sparks dripped from the crystal in the middle, shattering against the air as they fell like tiny fallen stars.

It was terrifying.

The smoke hid rips and rends and tears. The smell of decay and mold cut through the salt and storm. The crystal screamed with a hundred voices, each crying out for hope, or mercy or faith. Each call unanswered by whatever God had tended this barren garden.

Unknowingly, Rowan had begun to walk forwards to the Breach, her steps unthinking against the pitted, burned ground. She had begun to step on the rising ground near a crumbled stone banister when Solas gripped her upper arm and jerked her back.

“Do not listen to it” He told her quietly, Rowan blinking away the Breach. “Do not give it your attention, just keep going and ignore it.” She gave a quiet nod and he released her arm, but kept close to her. Both mages ignored the look Cassandra gave them when she came up.

“You’re here! Thank the Maker.” A familiar voice made Rowan perk up and she turned to see Leliana with a small pack of scouts behind her. The Seeker and her spoke quietly outside of Rowan’s hearing range, Leliana occasionally looking up at her. Before long, the two directed groups of Leliana’s scouts to station themselves around the Temple and for some of the soldiers to join them.

“This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?” The Seeker joined Solas and Rowan near the railing and looked up to the Breach with an inscrutable expression.

“Ready as I’ll ever be I suppose. Are you going to be putting me on a ladder or do I have to jerry-rig a harness to get up there?”

“Neither. The rift there is the first," Solas pointed to a rift, about 15 feet above the ground "and if we seal it, perhaps we seal the Breach.” He made an ‘after you’ motion and Rowan sighed.

“Let's find a way down then. And be careful, it looks unstable.”

The four of them were joined by Leliana and they all began to walk down the rubble path.

After a moment, there was a quiet rumble from the air, and a deep voice spoke. “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice”

Cassandra perked up as the voice trailed off, her brow furrowing. She turned to Solas with a questioning look. “What are we hearing?”

“At a guess? The person who created the Breach”

They passed a pair of archers, the two of them adjusting their bows and quietly talking. They both looked up as the group passed and stared at Rowan, making her look away in discomfort. A hand on the middle of her back led her on, a quick look showcasing Varric glaring back at the scouts. He gave her a soft look and she gave a smile in return and mouthed a thank you.

Soon, crystals in a deep, vibrant red were jutting from the ground and she heard a quiet growl from Varric. “This is red lyrium Seeker”

A look from Cassandra. “I am aware Varric”

“But what’s it doing here?”

“Perhaps it was raised up when the Breach was opened and was corrupted.” Solas mused.

Varric matches Cassandra and makes a noise of disgust. “Its evil” He looks to Rowan and her look of interest at the lyrium. “Whatever you do, don't touch it”

Rowan is about to open her mouth to ask why when the voice echos again. “Bring forth the sacrifice”

Then, slightly louder, “Someone help me!”

The voice startles Cassandra who blurts out “That was Divine Justina’s voice!” The Seeker charges forwards, Varric close behind, into the pit down the broken stairs. Solas follows more sedately and Rowan meeps as she stumbles over the stones in order to catch up.

The drop into the pit nearly makes Rowan cry when she drops down, accidentally landing on her prosthetic and jarring her already sore stump. She grips the wall momentarily, pushing the pain away with the rest of it. Repressing the pain is easier now.

She turns away from the wall, carefully not meeting Varric’s eyes. Cassandra is standing almost in the middle of the space, facing the rift. As Rowan walks over, her hand sparks and the rift answers.

The space is white and misty, bleak monochrome, save for the figures in the mist. One is towering, dark and vibrant crimson smoke, while the other is a woman, clothed in robes similar to the ones she had seen on the Chancellor.

The woman speaks. “Someone help me!” She shouts again and the doors burst open. Rowan is there standing in her nightgown, her face unbruised and hair still slightly mussed from the day before. Her leg is on full display, showcasing the prosthetic's shining metal.

She looks up to the darker figure and squares up. “Let her go!”

The Divine looks at Rowan over her shoulder. “Run while you can! Warn them!”

The Shadow turns to the girl and points with a clawed finger. “Kill the cripple”. Their (his?) voice booms, echoing through the space as another flash passed through the air. Rowan winced at the light and the words before her upper arms were seized and Cassandra was in her face asking questions.

“You were there! Who attacked? The Divine is she...? Was the vision true? What-”

“Cassandra, stop, you’re hurting me!” Rowan pushed at Cassandra’s chest and stared at her with a scared expression. “I don't remember anything. I remember waking up in a fucking dungeon and people beating for something I had no idea about. Now I’m in pain, seeing things I don't recall happening in a fucking hole in the ground and wondering if I’m even going to survive a day after meeting you after waiting 21 goddamned years!" Rowan panted after her rant, backed away from the rest of her group. “I just want to get this done” she whispered, voice breaking slightly.

The group was silent until Solas held out a hand to Rowan. “The rift is not sealed” He led her over to the rift until she was standing almost directly underneath it. “It is closed however, but only temporarily. To fully seal it, we must open it and seal it properly.” He looked to Cassandra. “It will cause attention from the other side, so be prepared.”

Cassandra followed his train of thought and made a signal to the scouts and soldiers. “That means demons! Be ready!”

Solas stepped back and left Rowan alone with the song and swirl of the Breach.

She looked up into the rift, looked through and saw the stitch holding it closed. She reached out and ripped.

The demon was on her in an instant.

Lightning crackled around her and a hand snatched her back as the demon swung its arm it her. The demon filled her vision, all purple scales and shifting eyes. It had no whisper, nothing quiet in its massive body. Someone steered her away, passed her along. The sounds of fighting ran past her ears, past her mind. Because all she could hear was her.

“You could be so much more. You are so much more, aren't you?” She (they?) boomed. “All of these people, they aren't important, are they? You saw.” The demon batted away a scout, only to be hit with a familiar white burst. “You are needed. How important. We could be so good together, so powerful.” The demon looked at her and screamed. “Be mine and we could be great” They purred.

Rowan looked back and with all her strength said “No” before she connected to the rift again.

Screams filled her head, each one clawing and clamoring for space in her skull. She pushed them away, only for them to come back in full force. Pushing again, she found them closer, trying harder to get into her skin.

The more she pushed away, the more they pushed forwards. So, she let them in.

The pain came rushing back first. Her arm, her leg. Her eyes, head, and chest. The anger, the fear and frustration swam through her and for a moment she was the rift, inside the Breach. She felt whole in a way she had not felt since she was 13 and a drunken trucker had taken her dancing.

But the feeling couldn't stay. The Breach had to be sealed and she was no longer that little dancing girl in a pink dress.

She pulled away, ripping herself from the singing tear. It hurt, pieces of her coming away and then bouncing back twice as sensitive. She could hear screaming, distant and out of reach until she realized it was her, screaming out her real lungs, in her patchwork body in the world that had given her the soulmates she had been waiting for.

Then it was quiet, dark and safe. There were hands, touching her arms and begging her to stay. Too many hands, too many voices. The spread of blackened marks, a stopped heart.

Blissfull, unending quiet.

Chapter Text

She had two legs.

That was the first thing she noticed when she woke up, ignoring the unending gray all around her, the huge black city in the distance and the strange, missing sky.

But all she could see was that blending into her thigh was a version of a leg made from starlight. It was beautiful and smooth, with tiny silver veins like marble and it ended in a sharp point, which she figured would make walking hard.

When she stood, however, that was not the case. She took a few steps, finding it was easier to walk in than her normal prosthesis, the knee flexing easily. She gave an experimental twirl and was delighted to find her body still remembered at least a few ballet moves.

“Now-” She stopped speaking immediately, clapping a hand over her mouth, surprised by the echo her voice caused. “That's new”. Taking her hand from her mouth, she carefully walked forwards with an arm outstretched, not seeing any landmarks.

“No need to do that dearie. You won't find anything. Not yet anyway” The voice surprised Rowan, causing her to squeal and turn around. Behind her was... she had no idea what they were. They were tall, with deep gray, almost black skin and the most vibrantly blue eyes she had ever seen. A soft, silvery dress clothed their form and clawed, bare feet walked soundlessly against the ground.

“Who are you?” Rowan asked, wishing for something to defend herself with if things went south. Then, there was a tiny weight in her hand that hadn't been there before.

This place was getting weirder by the second.

The being laughed, their brassy voice making it sound like bells. “I will not harm you, child. I am Pragma, a denizen of this world. And you,” Pragma came closer, circling Rowan. “Are a new mage, lost and alone.” Pragma stopped in front of Rowan, and leaned down, their blue eyes brighter than before. “Would you like me to show you around?”

Rowan looked Pragma up and down, from their bare, clawed feet to the barely-there stubbins of their golden horns. “What will it cost?”

Pragma smiled. “For this lesson? Nothing. It is a gift, freely given”

“And for others?”

“A price decided for each favor, when the favor is presented. Sound fair?”

Rowan considered. This world was new, and Pragma didn't seem too malicious. She looked up into the being's eyes. “Show me?”

“As you wish” Pragma straightened to their full height, and held out their arm. Rowan gently grasped their offered elbow and they began walking. “The first thing you must know about here is its name. Some call it the Between, but the term you will likely hear the most is the Fade.”

“The Fade?” Rowan remembered Solas and his explanations of the Breach. “Isn't that where, um, demons come from?” She wondered how fast she could run for a moment before Pragma sighed and nodded.

“Yes and no. The demons here are spirits like me that have been corrupted, by either an event or other beings, such as mages or unkind spirits. You have met a few of both demons and spirits. There is a Sloth spirit that rather likes you, but perhaps that meeting can wait for a while.” Pragma smiled down at Rowan. “There are also different types of each spirit. I, for example, am a spirit of Love. However, I took my name from one of your memories.”

Rowan thought for a moment. “Pragma, pragma...Oh!” She looked back up and met Pragma’s eyes. “Long-standing love? From the Greek word?”

 “Correct. Before I was simply ‘A Love’. I like this... Greek you said? Word better. My siblings have taken the other ones with great care.”

“Let me guess, you have six siblings?”

“How did you know?” Pragma helped Rowan over a lump in the ground in the shape of a fallen log.

“There are seven types of Love in the Greek tradition. If the shoe...” Rowan trailed off as she realized what had happened. “There was a thing there! What-”

“Calm child. The Fade is adapting to you. After such a long time away, it needed time to adjust to your mind, to your heart. Look around and tell me what you see.”

Sure enough, there was more now. The log was more solid now, a great Redwood covered in lichens and turkey tail mushrooms. All around it was green, half-glowing grass and wildflowers in every color. Rowan turned her head to the right and stopped short.

Just off the path, a white gazebo stood out in the grey-green of the Fade. Rowan slipped her hand off of a delighted Pragma’s arm and started walking towards it. The white of the gazebo was actually marble, not simply painted wood. A rose covered trellis stretched along one of its hexagonal sides and a woven hammock swung on the inside of it. Two stone benches lined two of the walls and Rowan sat, looking around the little structure. It felt cozy and safe.

“Do you like it?” Rowan looked to where Pragma stood at one of the little entrances. “Memories and dreams are everything here. Spirits watch memories like plays and we delight in the dreams your people bring.” They sat next to her on the bench, folding themselves to fit.

“So who made this one?”

“This? You made this one.”

Rowan gives Pragma a look. “Seriously? How?”

Pragma smiles. “You wanted something. Space perhaps, maybe somewhere to rest?” A nod from Rowan. “You have a good mind, Rowan. A strong one. Use it, make something else” Pragma nodded to her hand, the same one that still carried the weight from before. Rowan opened her hand to reveal a small knife, the blade no bigger than her middle finger.

Frowning, she closed her hand again. Make something? She looked at the roses on the trellis, the soft looking petals and the slow drip of the colors falling off and mixing. A rose. A small, pink rose. She opened her hand and watched the little black knife morph into a tiny rose, its bloom a vibrant pink against her pale skin.

Pragma laughed. “Very good. You learn quickly little one.” They stood, unfolding their long legs and ducking slightly from the pavilion. They looked up, towards the city. “I think I have kept you too long. There are people waiting”

Rowan's brow furrowed as she stood as well. “What do you mean? It's been maybe, 2, 3, hours?” Pragma laughed.

“Child, you have been asleep for days. It has only been today that you visited the Fade. I simply wanted to meet you while you were still here.”

She looked at Pragma, surprised. “Days?! I have to get up! The Breach, what-”

Hands clasped on her shoulders. “Calm yourself. It will do you no favors to have Anxiety visit you. They are not very nice and their effects linger.” Pragma pressed a kiss to her forehead and took the rose from her hand. “The price for my lesson: A kiss, upon your next visit. Now child, wake up”

Between one blink and the next, Rowan was staring at wooden slats above her and heard quiet mutterings. Being very careful not to move much, she looked around and saw a young woman, thin and elven, bringing in a box to the room.

But to her luck, the young woman looked up and caught her eyes, dropping the box whilst stammering into an apology. A bottle shattered, causing Rowan to jump and finally sit up as the girl fell to her knees.

“I'm so sorry Your Worship! I didn't mean to wake you! I-”

“Hey, easy. You didn't wake me. I was just about to get up.” Rowan backed up and put her back against the headboards, not wanting to try and stand. “Could you tell me where I am?”

The woman nodded. “You’re in Haven my lady. They say you saved us. The Breach has finally stopped growing, like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days!”

Rowan took a deep breath. “So are we safe?”

A nod. “The Breach is still in the sky, but that’s what they are saying, yes.”

“Thank the gods” Rowan slung her arm over her eyes, sighing. She didn't feel sore anymore, which was nice, but there was a bone-deep tired that lingered. She quietly hoped she wouldn't have to go running again anytime soon.

“I have to inform Lady Cassandra that you’ve woken.” The woman made an immediate movement toward the door. “At once she said!” As Rowan was about to protest, the woman bolted out the door.

“Wait!” Rowan went to jump out of the bed and fell on her face with the sudden balance shift. “Ugh.” She shook her head and rolled over to inspect her prosthetic, wondering why her leg felt so light.

Only to find it wasn't there.

“Oh no. No no no” She whipped her head around, hoping it was just taken off so she could sleep. But to her dismay, the metal limb was nowhere to be found. And that feeling grew when she found no evidence of crutches either.

She put her head in her hands and took a few shuddering breaths. Did they think she wasn't going to wake up? Did they want her helpless? Unable to run? But then why was she in a cabin? What was going on?

She pushed away her rising panic and thought rationally. First of all, she needed a way to walk. Looking around she found that the staff she had used, what seemed like only hours before, was leaned against the bookshelf. She very carefully got up and used the surrounding furniture to get over to it.

After grabbing it, she used it to hobble over to the bed and sat down. She caught her breath and readied herself. The blade was sturdy and when she leaned her weight against it, it didn't skid to her delight. She grabbed one of the extra sheets from the corner and a knife from the side table(small but wicked sharp) and cut the bottom half of it into strips. Standing, she balanced carefully and tied her thigh to the staff, making sure it was tight enough so it didn't come undone while she was walking.

She went over to the door and took a deep breath. She pushed open the door.

And immediately regretted it.

Two rows of people lined the pathway, watching the cabin. Soldiers were closest to the cabin and saluted as she passed, heads down and watching the ground. The rest were a mixed bag, men and women in both shining armor and civilian clothing. Most of them were quiet or looking down. It was the few that stared as she passed and whispered that made her skin crawl. There was something in their eyes that she wasn't comfortable with, a fervor beneath the surface. At the set of stairs, she almost jumped out of her skin when a soldier came forward, hands outstretched.

“May I aid you, Your worship?” His eyes were down, carefully directed to her stomach. She was too tired and on edge to argue. The whispers increased as he helped her, hands respectfully on her waist and shoulder. As he began to walk away after, her hand lashed out and grabbed his sleeve.

“Stay with me?” The look on his face was almost comical, had it not been directed at her. But none the less, he stayed on her left as they walked up to the Chantry, Rowan swallowing hard at the sight of people kneeling and praying towards her.

The two of them walked into the Chantry and her soldier bowed. “I must leave you here Your Worship. Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Leliana are behind the door on the far wall.” He paused as he walked away. “I wish you luck”

Rowan watched him walk away and faced the door. There was no one in the Chantry, save for the statues of an armored woman and plenty of candles. A trio of voices echoes from the door and got louder as she walked forwards. A (quite loud) male voice was advocating for what sounded like imprisonment and execution. A more familiar female voice was advocating for mercy and innocence, which made Rowan feel a bit better. The second female voice was quieter and said little.

Sighing heavily, Rowan opened the door.

Chapter Text

The first thing Rowan saw walking in was the black cap of the Chancellor from before, and him immediately going for her metaphorical throat.

“Chain her! I want her prepare for travel to the capital for trial!” He shouted, gesturing to the two armored men on either side of her. The one on the right was quick to grab her arm whilst the one on the left stayed still, arms not even moving. Cassandra’s command to let her go made Rowan nearly fall over as her arm was released rather violently and the two walked out.

A shadow on the other side of the room was revealed to be Leliana, as the woman steadied Rowan silently while the other two argued.

“You walk a dangerous line Seeker” Roderick grumbled.

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

Rowan spoke up from where she tried to lean casually against the wall. “I tried to close the Breach and I nearly died. Now you want to ignore the demon cannon again?” Her face showcased her disbelief in him and he glared at her like an upset bassethound.

“And yet you live. Now isn’t that a convenient result?” The two stared each other down, Cassandra breaking their tense contest.

“Have a care Chancellor. The Breach is not the only thing we face”

Leliana finally speaks up from next to Rowan. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone the Most Holy did not expect. It stands to reason that they may have died in the explosion, but they may have allies that still live.”

Roderick sputtered. “Am I a suspect?”

“You, and many others” Leliana confirms. Rowan resists the urge to giggle at the look Roderick has on his face. Its murder investigation dude. Did you think you wouldn't be investigated?

“And the prisoner is not?”

“I heard many voices and many things in the temple. The Divine called out to her for help and she came.” Cassandra looked at Rowan, something unknown in her eyes. Rowan broke her gaze and looked down, scared of what she might find there.

“So her surviving? The thing on her hand? Is it all a coincidence?”

A shake of her head. “Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour” Rowan’s head snapped up. Did they think-
“I'm- what? You really think your Maker would send someone like me? I'm just some girl with a missing leg and too many soulmarks” Rowan didn't miss the soft touch on her arm from Leliana nor the look from Roderick at her leg, still strapped to a staff.

Cassandra gives her a soft look. “The Maker does as He wills. It is not for me to say”

Rowan swallows hard. So they weren't trying to trap her.

“The Breach remains, and your mark is our only hope of closing it” Leliana supplies from beside her. Her tone is even, but it is spoiled by the woman glaring at Roderick who was turning a shade of plum when he spoke.

“That is not for you to decide!” He came towards the two of them and Rowan didn't miss the glint of something in Leliana’s hand. Roderick was saved being shanked by a Cassandra slamming down a thick book against the large table in the middle of the room. Rowan watched as her Seeker pinned the Chancellor to the wall with a few sentences and finishes him off with a harsh stab of her finger.

Then the Chancellor is gone and Rowan is alone with her soulmates again, both cored in steel and sharp on the edges.

“This is the Divine’s directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.” Leliana sighs and walks away from Rowan, towards the table and the now pacing Cassandra.

“We have no choice, we have to continue forwards.” Cassandra stopped pacing and looked to Rowan. “With you at our sides. If you are willing” She added on, noticing Rowans nervous look.

She gave a quiet chuckle. “Well, wasn't expecting this when I woke up.” She looked up to their expectant faces. “As long as we continue helping people, I agree. I will stay” Cassandra extended her hand and Rowan stared at it. And then stared at the staff she was using to hold herself up with both hands. Cassandra followed her gaze and winced, putting her hand down

“Also, can I have my leg back please? This is starting to hurt” Rowan went over to one of the chairs nearby and untied the pole from her leg, gingerly sitting down. “By the way, where is my leg?”

Leliana sighed. “The prosthesis you were using was damaged when you sealed the rift in the Breach. The Rift surged when it closed, making your leg useless and causing your heart to stop”

Rowan made a small noise of understanding. “Makes sense I guess. Is there anything I can use in the meantime?”

“We will have a pair of crutches made for you. We meant to have them ready for you but it seems Adan’s assumption of your coma was inaccurate.” Leliana cast her gaze down and sighed. “In the meantime, we will have someone walk with you and aid you while we confer with our associates. Would you be alright with that?”

“I suppose. It not like we have any other choice.” Leliana poked her head out of the room and apparently spotted someone and waved them in. A young elf woman walked in the room, armed to the teeth. Her face tattoos were a black half-mask against her warm brown skin and Rowan winced at the pain she must have gone through.

“Athras. Would you escort Her Worship to Adan’s cabin? She has trouble walking and will need assistance” Leliana motioned from ‘Athras’ to Rowan, the elf nodding to the other woman.

“Of course Sister Leliana.” Athras sketched a bow and offered her side to Rowan. The two left the room, Rowan still using the staff on her right side.

“That could have gone better” Leliana said as she turned to face Cassandra after she closed the door. The Seeker had her face in her hands, shoulders slumped as she sat in her chair.

“She died Leliana. The rift closed and I heard her scream with every bone in my body and then she died”

“I know Cassandra. I felt it too.” Leliana sat next to Cassandra and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. “But she woke up. Early in fact, we were not expecting her to wake up for another 5 days at the least. And she agreed to aid us without pressure. Today is a good day, Chantry denouncement aside.”

The Seeker nodded and sighed. “We need to get Cullen and Lady Montilyet. We must discuss our next step”

___________________________________________

Rowan watched the scenery go by, keeping hold of her escort. The crowd had thinned quite a bit since she had woken up and the few that remained were actually doing things. A few of the soldiers stared, but were intimidated into looking away by the look that Athras shot them.

“So, this Adan. Is he one of the doctor's in the area?”

Silence.

Athras helped Rowan climb the small set of stairs and Rowan didn't miss the familiar face peeking out of one of the windows. Solas disappeared without a word and Rowan swallowed her disappointment at his lack of response. She didn't expect much and yet, still nothing.
The cabin that they walked into was full of herbs, incense and a sharp smell that made Rowan twitch. Athras lead her over to a small cot and helped her sit, ignoring the look they both got from a man standing near a sweet smelling pot.

“So, you’re finally up. Wasn’t expecting you to wake up for nearly a week.” The man walked around, grabbing various bottles and bowls from places around the cabin. “Are you feeling any lingering effects? Nausea, dizzy spells, aching muscles?”

Rowan blinked. It least he was efficient. “No nausea or dizziness. The cold gives me aches though. And I have a tendency towards headaches.” She watched Athras take a position by the door, watching the interaction. Guess she had a new friend.

The man she guessed to be Adan nodded. “Give me a moment and I’ll make something to help.” She watched the gruff man putter around, mixing, smashing and grinding ingredients and adding them to a smaller pot. Soon enough a small, steaming cup was placed in her hands. The smell wasn't unpleasant, a slightly warm smell like cinnamon mixed with fresh mint. “Sip it, don't chug it. It’ll make you sick if you drink it too fast.”

The next few hours were mostly calm. Athras stayed with her, guarding the door but also helping Adan cut plants and grind leaves into pastes and putting them in carefully labeled jars. After a few token protests from Adan, Rowan was also helping between sips of her tea.

She didn't tell either of them that she had no idea what plants she was dealing with, but it didn't seem to matter as Adan told her what to do anyway. The vine with the heart shaped leaves got split down the middle, the roots cut off and set to the side so that Adan could use them. The innards were put into a separate jar and covered with cheesecloth.

The plant with the red centered flowers for plucked and pickled. The little black flowers were steeped for hours in clear alcohol, turning it into a pretty purple/black that smelled terrible.

But hey, it kept her hands busy.

The next person to walk into the cabin was another human man, balding with a neatly trimmed beard and wearing a leather apron. “Adan! Why didn't you tell me she was waiting! I thought she was still sleeping.” He frowned down at the little table in Rowan's lap and the nearly full jar of green goop next to her.

“Sister Leliana didn't tell me either until the girl was almost to my door, so don't go blaming me Harritt.” The apothecary didn't look up from his mixing until Athras tried handing him something and nearly smacked him in the face with a plant.

Harritt sighed and looked to Rowan. “Alright Your Worship. Let's see that leg.” He lifted the table from her lap after they both cleared it off and looked to her for permission to roll up her pant leg. Neither of the others looked at them as Harritt fussed. “Wait here” He left and Rowan bit back her snarky comment about going anywhere. The blacksmith came back within moments, not with crutches but with a facsimile of the former leg, this one made from plain iron, wood and cloth.

“It's not as good as your other one, but until we find a better way of doing that knee, this is the best we have.” Harritt knelt at her feet, holding the leg like Cinderella’s slipper. He wordlessly asked for permission by raising a brow and Rowan nodded.

“Let's see if the socket fits first. The knee can come later.”

The two of them fussed with the leg, Harriet adjusting the fit of the cloth socket and the jointed metal cover that he tightened with small pins.

“Stand for me.” Rowan did as he asked, using his shoulder for balance as she rocked it, ridding it of any air bubbles.

It was a tight fit, but no worse than the last time she had gotten a new leg. It would take time to adjust to the fit and more time to deal with the clicking of her knee, but it was passable and she could move without a guide, so she was happy. The next few steps were wobbly and she had to compensate for the way the knee worked, adjusting her gait.

“I’m walking without support of another person and it doesnt hurt. Thats a win in my book” Rowan looked up from her feet and gave Harritt a bright smile. “Thank you for making this”

Harritt nodded. “Was hoping to have it done earlier, but one of my apprentices went off and decided to be a soldier.”

Athras raised her head from her cutting. “You need a new apprentice? I have a friend who needs work” Harritt raised brow.

“They any good?”

“He’s willing to learn if you are willing to teach”

Rowan watched the exchange quietly, using the distraction to slip out of the cabin. She didn't bother looking into Solas’ cabin and she went around the stairs, going down a smaller slope to avoid them.

Now, to explore the place that would be her new home.

Chapter Text

Haven was surprisingly pretty for being an army base. The snow that covered the ground was barely blackened by the ash, courtesy of the occasional scout or soldier with a shovel. The cabins were well-kept, cots made and belongings organized into general areas. The white tent off to the side was full of injured and people wearing robes tending them.

Rowan could feel bursts of something when she passed near enough and looked in when she felt one gather. Sure enough, a robed man was standing over a young man in a scouts uniform. His hands glowed a steady blue-green, and the back of Rowan’s mind whispers about sea breeze and fresh plants.

She leaves soon after that.

She was reading a slip of paper about a dog when a familiar voice rang out.

“There she is, fixer of the Breach, great Herald of Andraste” Varric walked towards her, a small smile on his face. Rowan pushed down the urge to protest the Herald thing and smiled back “How are you holding up? Most people stretch out things like this.”

“Things like what?”

“Going from the most hated person in Thedas to leading an army of the faithful. Doesn't normally happen within a fortnight” He sat down on a small stool and motioned to the one across from him. “So, again, how are you doing?”

Rowan swallowed. The thing about soulmates is that they know how to get under your skin. It would be so easy to tell Varric how she really felt, how she wanted to scream and run away the moment people started bowing to her. How her heart ached because her soulmates couldn't even say her name. How close she was to crying.

“I'm fine. Just kinda confused.” She forced a smile on her face, crinkling her eyes so it looked more real. “Honestly, I'm ready for nap”

Varric snorted. “I’d imagine.” The smile slid from his face, and he sighed. “Look, I need to talk to you about the whole soul-mark thing”

A piece of ice lodged itself in Rowan chest.

“It's not that you aren't a pretty young woman, or that you are a mage. It's just...I have someone already and I would prefer...” Varric paused. Even for all his words, how do you tell someone made for you that you don't want them like their mark dictates?

“You would prefer to stay friends?” Rowan prompted, keeping her voice even.

Varric nodded. “Yes. I'm sure that were it not for her, we could get along. But as it is...” He trailed off at the smile on Rowan's face.

“It's okay Varric. I understand completely.” Rowan forced down the urge to protest. He was not hers to dictate. He could love anyone he liked and she would not protest.

At least he was alright with them being friends.

They chatted for awhile more, until Rowan’s cheeks started to hurt from her smile. She said a quick goodbye to Varric, who moved on to writing something in a book after she left.

Soon, she simply passed through the large wooden doors leading outwards. The field ahead is covered in men and women in variations of armor and there is another group of robed figures on a hill to her left. She decides to turn right, away from the people training, away from where there are tents and the strange sharp smell that lingers around those with a sword on their breast plate.

She is only a few steps away from the sparring field when something cute and pink runs across her path.

Unfortunately, it startles her into squealing and she falls over, startling the little pink thing, who also falls over.

The critter is small, about the size of her old Bull Terrier Arrow. Its big, slightly pointed ears are reminiscent of a rabbit and its eyes show a spark in their black depths. The critter hops towards her slightly when she holds out her hand and she is delighted to feel its snub nose touch her and the squeak that comes out of it melts the tension out of her shoulders.

She gets up slowly, not wanting to get chilled from sitting in the snow, but also not wanting to scare her little friend.

“Looks like that nug likes you milady” A voice comments from just behind her. Rowan turns, careful of her footing and the thing near her feet.

“Nug? Is that what it's called?” Rowan smiles down at the ‘nug’ and resists cooing at it sniffing her boots. “Its adorable”. That gets her a snort from her visitor.

“Most people would call then rodents at best, pests at worst. Things breed like crazy and get everywhere.” He looked up from where the nug was sniffing her boots and gives her a smile. “Marcus Trevelyan, former Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle. And you are?”

“Rowan Kent, former...” She thinks of a way to explain her job to someone not from Earth. “I suppose kennel worker? I used to train dogs for a living”

Marcus’s eyebrows raise. “How very Ferelden of you. Wardogs? Mabari? Or Lady’s pets?”

Rowan hides a grin, glad her former occupation exists here. Maybe if the whole world saving thing doesn't work out, she can take a job in this Ferelden. “All of the above, I guess. Occasionally the shelter I worked at did obedience training for puppies, canine units and purse dogs, but we mostly trained service dogs and therapy dogs.”

Marcus smiled. “Sounds prestigious. What are you doing all the way out here if I may ask?” He motioned forwards and she fell in step next to him, following the slight path towards the outskirts.

“Oh you know. Falling out of a hole in the sky, nearly getting killed by demons, closing rifts. That sort of thing” She looked up from the nug following them with a smile, only to see Marcus’s smile drop and a look of horror to cross his face.

“Your worship! I'm so sorry, Andraste forgive me, I don't not realize!” He dropped to his knees in the snow, bowing at the waist and the ache in Rowan’s chest intensified.

“Please don’t. I am not anyone’s worship.” She practically whispered, only to have Marcus protest.

“You closed the Rifts! You stopped the Breach from spreading. You are Andraste's Herald, the Chosen of the Maker’s Bride!” Marcus looked up to her face, silhouetted by the Breach in a verdant halo. “I would be remiss in my duties if I did not treat you as the holy Lady you are. Please forgive me your wor-”

“I am not holy!” Rowan snapped, tired and near crying. “I am a woman, a woman who got thrown into this fucking mess by Deity knows what! A woman who can't even get her damned soulmates to look at her for more than a second as the person she is, instead of as their savior.” She gave a quiet sob, to her frustration. “I am a no one. Just someone people use to reach their own ends” She ignored the protest building on Marcus’s tongue and turned away from him, uncaring of the squeaking near her shoes.

She left the Enchanter kneeling in the snow, watching her walk blindly away, silent tears blurring the path in front of her.

She wandered aimlessly, until she reached a tiny logging site, hidden in a copse of trees. Her nug friend sat next to her as she curled up near a pile of the fallen trees. Her tears fell easily now that the dam had broken, her sobs no longer quiet in the silence of the trees.

A tiny body curled up on her feet, lending her warmth and several more crowded her body, gently squeaking, before she looked up from her arms.

Nugs surrounded her, their small pink bodies curled around each other and her outstretched false leg. One, the one from before if it's little markings were unique, sat up from its loaf position on her leg and looked at her for a moment before carefully hopping closer to her. It raised itself up, tiny paw-hands gripping her shirt until it was sniffing her cheek. A soft nudge and tiny squeak was all it took to make her smile.

“Thank you little friend” She ran a finger across its little snout and giggled lightly at the twitch it elicited from the nugs nose and the rat-like cleaning motion it made. “Maybe I should name you. Calling you ‘the nug’ seems wrong.” A squeak of agreement.

“Hows about Maggie?”

Low squeak.

“No? Harold?”

Low.

“Bob?”

Low.

She narrows her eyes at the nug. Then smiled, wondering. “How’s about Vanyel? You're certainly loyal enough”

The nug bobbed its head side to side before giving a high squeak.

“Vanyel it is. Now to make you a tiny set of Whites and we are in the clear” Rowan laughed, the sound echoing through the trees, nugs perking up at the sound.

“Herald!” A familiar voice rang out and Rowan’s smiled dropped at the address. Cassandra erupted through the trees, causing nugs to scatter in every direction like pink soot sprites.

The Seeker looked out of breath, pink dusting her high cheekbones from the exertion. Rowan stood carefully, scooping up Vanyel from where he had sat on her lap. “Can I help you Seeker?” Her tone was careful, measured as not to reveal her earlier activities.

Cassandra’s brow furrowed at the tone but dismissed it. “You have been gone for hours Herald. Athras only remembered you in Adan’s cabin and when we went looking for you, we found a very panicked mage. Any reason why?”

Rowan felt a click in her chest as she sealed her emotions away, not wanting to break down again at the term of address and mention of Marcus. “It is nothing Seeker. I needed time alone. I was unaware I had a babysitter”

“Bodyguard, not babysitter.” Leliana corrected, ducking to avoid a branch in the face. She frowned at the snow on Rowan's pant legs and the leftover tear tracks on her cheeks. “Did that man hurt you? You are crying Herald” She stepped forwards, only to have Rowan step back.

“I would prefer not to be touched at this moment Sister.” The Hands exchanged looks at the tone in her voice. “Have you need of me?”

Cassandra cleared her throat. “Yes, we do. Your advisors and I have gathered to speak to you about our next step” The Seeker followed Rowan’s sudden formality and missed the twitch on the corner of Rowan’s mouth.

“As you wish” The Herald walked quickly, the nug still cradled in her arms. Both Hands followed closely on either side of her, watching her steps for any faltering.

They arrived at Haven’s gate quickly. Soldiers saluted the three women, one giving a curious look to the nug that their Herald carried like a small dog. It squeaked back at him and he looked away feeling chastised for some reason.

Going up the stairs, Rowan noticed Varric sitting by his fire. The dwarf raised his eyes as they passed and he gave a warm smile and waved at the trio. Rowan matched his smile with one of her own and waved her fingers back.

By the time they got to the Chantry doors, Rowan was at equilibrium. The titles still felt wrong, worse in the mouths of her soulmates but she felt less like she was going have a breakdown.

For now

Chapter Text

The doors to the Chantry opened, admitting the three women. They unknowingly fell into a V, Rowan taking lead Justinia’s former hands on either side. Cassandra watched Rowan from behind, inspecting the smoothness of her face and even stride in her legs. There was no sign of a breakdown, contrary to the tear tracks they had seen on her face.

“Herald” Rowan turns her head slightly towards the Seeker, hazel eyes still fixed forwards. “Does the mark trouble you? I noticed it sparking earlier when we were approaching Haven”

Rowans head tilted slightly and she hummed. “It aches a bit, but nothing I can't handle. It's no worse than my leg on a cold day” She turned fully to Cassandra, a bright smile on her face. “Don't worry about me”

“Will you tell us if it is?” Leliana asked in an edged tone.

There was a pause until Rowan admitted very quietly “Only if it is necessary. Otherwise I will deal with it. Just like I always have” Their conversation was cut short by the doors at the end of the hall opening.

The contents of the room were prettier than before, Rowan was surprised to see.

A man, late thirties to early forties, in armor was pouring over a set of papers in in his hands, blonde hair styled carefully around his face. His eyes flickered up when the three of them entered, but went back to his papers when he saw no threat. His hand never left his sword pommel.

The other occupant was a true Lady. Her dress was cloth-of-gold, accented by shades of dark blue that looked even more vibrant against her smooth, darker skin. Her pen scratched against the board she held in her hands and unlike the man, once she looked up, her hazel eyes stayed locked on Rowan, pen tucked into a small notch in her board while Rowan placed Vanyel on the floor.

“Rowan. May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces” Cassandra motioned to the man, him finally looking up from his papers.

He sighed slightly. “Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear we lose many more before this is over”. He placed his papers down and studied the map closer as Rowan took a sharp breath.

Oh.

“Lastly, Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat” Leliana smiled at the introduction of the Lady and Rowan, plainly friends with the beautiful woman.

Josephine smiled brightly at her friends soulmate. “I have heard much about you. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Rowan began to laugh, a hysterical edge cutting into the giggle, covering her mouth with both hands. Her companions exchanged worried looks until Rowan turned to the Commander, a small smile on her lips.

“Well Commander, I have faith you will lead them correctly” He looked up sharply at Rowan’s words, eyes widening. He exchanged a look with Leliana and Cassandra, who gave him a bewildered look.

She then turned to the wide eyed Josephine, a wry twist on her lips. “As for us my Lady, I feel there is an imbalance of information between us. Perhaps we can fix that?”

The silence in the room was deafening and Rowan’s smile began to fade. “Ah. Well, now I’ve made it awkward” She shifted slightly, making Vanyel squeak from where he sat on her shoe.

Cullen cleared his throat. “I suppose Sister Leliana has no need of introductions?”

“The Herald and I know each other well enough” Leliana confirmed, looking Rowan up and down before looking at the blush across Josephine's cheeks. “We will discuss our shared bond later. For now we must focus on the task at hand”

Rowan cleared her throat and nodded, automatically going into parade rest. “Cassandra and Leliana say you all have a plan?” She inspect the faces of her soulmates for a moment before Cassandra stepped forwards.

Then chaos erupted.

Cullen vied deeply for the templars (which apparently didn't like mages, and Cullen used to be a templar, so awkward), Cassandra had a much tamer want for the templars, while Leliana and Josephine both argued for the mages. Rowan just watched, trying to absorb the information presented.

Finally, Josephine cut the argument off. “Unfortunately, neither side will even speak to us yet.” She frowned at her board. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition. And you specifically” Josephine motioned to Rowan who blinked in surprise.

“Wow. That was quick. Took them what, 3, 4 days?”

Cullen scowled. “Shouldn’t them be deciding who the next Divine will be?”

Ignoring Cullen, Josephine shook her head. “It scares them that people call you, a mage, the Herald of Andraste. Combined with your amount of marks, it makes for a compelling argument.”

“Wait, what about my marks?” Rowan stood straighter, no longer in rest.

The table looked at eachother before Leliana spoke up. “The Chantry sees soulmates as a solitary triad at most. It was dictated long ago that those with more than two Marks are sin by Chantry law. In so far, we know you have 6 soulmates. Chancellor Roderick is only too happy to share this fact with Val Royeaux.” Her full mouth dipped for a moment before going blank again.

Rowan frowned. “Well, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” She sighed and rubbed the Mark on her wrist, the silver letters catching the light. “And to make it clear, I have 14 Marks. And I had not met any of my mates until I met Leliana and Cassandra.”

“So the others. They could be anyone?” Cassandra frowned.

“We will need to ensure that the Herald is protected from all sources. Including her soulmates.” Leliana caught Rowan’s narrowed eyes. “Just until we can vet them.”

Rowan caught on and her eyes widened. “You think someone will fake a Mark”

“It is a very likely chance. We cannot take any risks.”

Rowan covered her face with her hands. “Wonderful. Next you're going to tell me I'm in danger of assassination.”

Utter silence. She peeked out and saw that none of her companions were looking at her. “God dammit”

“That is why we have assigned Scout Lavellan to your protection detail. She will be staying in your cabin and will be training with you until you have been deemed sufficient in combat. And then she will be staying on as your bodyguard.” Cassandra explained to Rowan’s displeasure.

“Also, you will be expected to finish your mage training. May I assume you were part of a circle? You do not have the look of an apostate.” Josephine eyed Rowan, from her only slightly callused hands to very light tan on her freckled skin.

Rowan made a noise of confusion. “What circle?”

Chapter Text

After Rowan spoke, the room erupted into chaos very quickly.

“What do you-”

“The Herald an apost-”

“Guys-”

“No circle training! She’s dange-”

“The Chantry will ruin us! They-”

“Guys!”

“What if she gets possessed Cassandra! Then-”

“Josephine, calm down! Nothi-”

“SILENCE!”

The room clattered into silence as they looked at the now scowling Rowan. Cullen looked like he was about to speak and she narrowed her eyes.

“Now, listen closely all of you before you start shouting again.” She looked each one of them in the eyes and when she saw no interruptions, she continued. “The reason I say ‘What Circle’ is because I am not from here, which I thought was very apparent by my lack of knowledge and lack of training. It seems it is not and so we will have to start at the beginning.

“Hi, My name is Rowan. I lived on a little farm in Blackbrook, Washington with my mother and five siblings. I had two dogs, Tavi and Harry, along with a cat named Bucky, a small herd of goats and a snake named Mitty. I am not from Ferelden, or Orlais, or where ever you thought I was from. I did not have magic until a few days ago and I am very tired of people acting like I am something I am not. So instead of treating me like I should know everything, how about you explain why the fuck you are yelling!”

Near the end of Rowan’s monologue, her voice changed from soft and sweet to a near roar, matching the snarl on her face.

Josephine was the first to break the silence by clearing her throat and straightening her spine. “Very well Herald. Where would you like us to start?”

“Start with the reason why you are all freaking out and go from there”

“As you wish. A Circle is- was a place where Mages were kept to learn and study magic away from society. They were watched by the Templars, who kept them from being possessed by demons and prevented them from using blood magic. The Chantry put Mages in different Circles in accordance with their country before their magic presented.”

“So it was a school?” A wince from Cassandra. “Not a school then. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

Leliana stepped up. “Because in accordance with Chantry law, mages as young as 7 were taken from their families and forced into circles, taught to fear their magic lest they learn too much.”

“For their own good! What would happen if a child as possessed and turned into an abomination? They would have killed everything in their path, including their families, until a Templar was forced to cut them down” Cullen cut in, seeing the horror on Rowan’s face.

“You keep saying Templars? You’re not talking about Holy Knights are you?”

“You have Templars in your country?” Cassandra leaned over the table. “But you have no mages?”

Rowan shook her head. “The Knights Templar were a Catholic military group that was used for the protection of Christian pilgrims. But they were again, a military group and so were used in the Crusades, which was called a Holy War by the church. Eventually. many were branded as heretics and were burned at the stake by the law of the Church. So, no, we don't have Templars anymore.” She heard Cullen swallow loudly. “What are Templars here like?”

“They are mostly young men and women who are inducted at a young age to keep the mages in line by the Chantry. They are given training and the means to keep mages in the circles at all cost, including the death of either the Templar or the Mage. Some are volunteers, but others are given to the Chantry at birth, depending on the parent's financial situation. ”

“What, like tithes?” Rowan frowned at Cassandra. “So let me get this straight. There is a group of people specifically made for taking care of Mages from a young age, are then taught that mages are dangerous and shouldn't be trusted, and your Chantry supports this.” Cassandra nodded and Rowan swore. “If you try to force a Templar on me, I will leave”

“But Herald, what if-”

“What if what? What if I get possessed? If I get stronger than they want? If they decide that I'm better off chained down and beaten?” Rowan bit out. “I will not be chained down by someone who hates me because of what I can and cannot do.”

Silence filled the room and Rowan looked up. Cassandra was looking away, pensive, face unreadable. Leliana and Josephine were both looking anywhere but her, keeping their hands busy with what looked like a chess piece or a quill.

But it was Cullen that caught her eyes. Both of the Commander’s hands were clenching and unclenching against the table, his shoulders a firm line under his armor. His eyes, the warm amber she had noticed before, had become molten gold, fiery and barely leashed.

“Herald, I cannot make promises for my brothers in arms” shit “But even if we are not soul-bonded, I can say firmly that you will not be leashed, bound or beaten by any Templar under my command.” His tone was even, but Rowan could tell that there was more to his words than he was saying. “However, if it would make Your Worship, more comfortable, I will assign myself as your Templar in accordance with Chantry tradition.”

Rowan opened her mouth to refuse when she felt his mark burn hot. Oh, he... “Commander Cullen. If that is your wish, I will agree under one condition.”

“And the condition is?”

“You are to no longer call me any variation of Your Worship, Herald or My Lady. I ask that you call me by my given name.” Her gaze swept through the room and she sighed. “It seems like that is the only way people will” She muttered under her breath.

“As you wish Yo- Rowan.” The Commander extended his hand like they had not just finalized their bond through an argument of all things. Rowan gently took hand in hers and was warmed by the smile on his face.

“Well, that is certainly a way to begin your courtship Commander” Josephine laughed softly, and Cullens cheeks turned red.

“Courtship?” Rowan blinked. Shit, I hadn't thought of that. I'm gonna have to court them!

“You do not have to say yes yet Rowan. An oath made for purposes of courtship is still an oath.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

Rowan chewed her lip. “I accept your offer of courtship. However, we will have to go slowly, as again, I do not know the cultures and traditions of this country.” Her eyes flickered across the room. “Or any of your countries really.”

Josephine sighed. “We will have to hire tutors for your education. But how is courtship done in your country?”

Rowan felt the urge to hit her head against a wall. “Normally? It’s time. Time spent together alone, with family, with friends. Talking with each other, learning about each other. Most of us are pretty low-key.”

And now for the hard part.

“But I have something else to talk about. The real reason I came into this room prepared for a fight”

She looked into her soulmates curious eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not from this world.”

“Oookay. I think the Herald is tired and needs her rest clearly.” Josephine said, putting her pen down and giving a strained smile.

“Wait!” Rowan held out her hand and tried to keep her calm. “I promise I'm not crazy and I really need you to listen.”

Leliana motioned with a blank expression for her to continue.

“Where I am from, the reason we don't have mages if because technically, we don't have magic. Like at all. We use science and technology to adapt to our surroundings. I was born in a hospital full of over a hundred babies born within the same week. My hometown was over a thousand people and that is small for a town where I lived. My country alone has over 300 million people and it's still growing. And I don't even live in the biggest country!” She steamrolled forwards, ignoring the looks from her companions.

“I know I sound crazy to you. And I know I don't really have any proof other than my word and maybe my leg if it's still mostly intact. It's a lot to ask of you, and I can't ask you to believe me so soo-”

“Herald” Rowan looked up to see Cassandra standing front of her, eyes sharp in her face. “As impossible as it sounds, I believe you”

“You do?”

“Cassandra, now wait” Leliana walked forwards, brow narrowed. “You cannot be serious”

The Seeker shook her head and turned to face the rest of the group. “You saw her at the Breach. You saw the clothes she wore, the fake leg she used, the way she speaks, talks, acts. She is different.” She turned back to Rowan and gave a tight smile.

“Truly the Maker has blessed us if he brought you from your home to help us save ours”

And just like that, Rowan felt a lock click around her heart as murmurs echoed through the room.

Not only were they still skeptical, still distrustful, but the one who did believe her thought she was still some holy figure.

Rowan put on her best smile as they questioned her, pressing for details. She let the cold iron in her heart spread like armor, sealing away her real feelings.

They almost believed her.

That was all that mattered.

She could still help if she was numb.

Chapter Text

Rowan gave a heavy sigh.

The rest of the day had gone by quickly, her soulmates pressing for every detail she would tell them about Earth and her life there. But as the day turned to night, Rowan’s temporary energy waned and eventually, Cullen escorted her to the small cabin she had woken up in, and ensured she had a hot bath and food before she went to bed.

Athras thankfully left her alone in the cabin, choosing instead to take her dinner in the Singing Maiden tavern nearby. Rowan’s own dinner was of milder fare due to Adan’s concern that rich foods may cause her to get sick. Soft, plain bread, cheese and a cup of tea were supplied, although he told her that if she felt she couldn't stomach anything, Flissa had broth ready for her if she needed it.

But still, Rowan felt no inclination to eat, instead submerging herself in the warm bath and making no move to move from it.

Haven was cold, and Rowan had been walking around in only a long-sleeved tunic and leggings, her boots the only thing really keeping her warm. She was surprised she hadn't noticed how cold she was until she sank into the hot water and nearly melted.

Quietly humming, she sank further into the water until only her head was above the water. The water made her sleepy and it took effort to not fall asleep in the bath. Her bed was probably just as warm but the air between made Rowan curl deeper in the water.

A knock interrupted her woolgathering and she blinked sleepily at the door across the way, resting her chin against the rim of the tub.

“Who is it?”

“It's Cassandra Herald. May I come in?”

Rowan blinked tiredly at the door and thought for a moment.

“Enter”

The Seeker pushed open the door, carrying a stack of books in various sizes, talking all the while. “You left before we could discuss the rest of yo- oh Maker you’re naked” She dropped the books in surprise, staring at the young woman in the tub.

Her rift-green eyes were heavy-lidded and blinked slowly, looking her with mild curiosity. The soft waves of her hair fell around her face, plainly washed and in the middle stage of drying, for all she was still in the tub.

But what had Cassandra blushing was the way she was positioned.

Her head was gently resting on her forearms, cradled against the metal. It gave Cassandra a good view of the soft, pale skin along her shoulders and neck when her head tilted. She also knew if she walked a few more steps, she would be able to see into the tub, from her lithe chest down to the tip of her delicate foot.

But the Herald obviously cared nothing for her nudity, instead focusing on the books scattered on the ground, a lazy smile on her face.

“Ooo, books. What did you bring me?”

Cassandra blinked, not expecting the curious look Rowan gave her. “After the meeting was dismissed, I realized no one had given you the texts you would need for your lessons. They are mainly apprentice books, such as treatises on the Fade, beginner spells and wards, along with how to defend yourself from various demons.”

Rowan examined the pile. “What about that one? It has a...fox?”

“A fennec.” Cassandra nodded. “After you adopted the nug” “Vanyel” “...Vanyel, I thought it might be best if you received a book on the animals that live in Thedas. There is also a book on plants that I included for you if you are interested.”

A soft splash followed Rowan's movement as she sat up, leaning over the tub. “Thank you Cassandra. I’m glad you thought of me” Her thanks were followed by a large yawn and a series of blinks. The action caused Cassandra to smile for a moment before she realized how tired the Herald was.

“Herald, I think it is time I take my leave. It looks like you are very tired and I should not keep you up any longer.” She gathered the books and kept her eye line on Rowan’s desk as she put them down, ignoring the hum of agreement from Rowan and the soft splashing from behind her.

“I suppose you're right.” More splashing and a quiet curse as Cassandra arranged the books. “Good lord, I wish I had crutches” She filed that away as she turned back to Rowan, to find the Herald wrapping a towel around herself and carefully leaning against her bed frame.

“Herald!” Cassandra leaned forwards to help her, willfully ignoring the half-nakedness, only to be waved away by Rowan.

“I'm fine. Just tired” She sat down, massaging her stump. Rowan then looked up and gave Cassandra a small smile. “Go on Cassandra. I'm afraid I won't be the best company in a little while.”

Cassandra watched as Rowan grabbed the nightgown sitting on her nightstand and slipped it over her towel, letting the towel drop when she stood again, draping it on the top of her bedpost.

Cassandra gave a small salute before walking over to the door as Rowan settled, disturbing Vanyel, who was sleeping on the foot of her bed, a small red ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. “Good night Lady Herald”

Rowan gave a quiet mumble. “Night Cassandra”

Between hearing the door open and close, Rowan fell, landing softly in the hammock inside of her stone and vine gazebo.

“Ah, you're back” Rowan turned her head, finding Pragma quietly sitting on one of the benches, flipping through a book. Or rather, something that looked like a book, but each of its pages had an animal walking around, made of paper.

“Were you waiting long?” Rowan swung her legs over, finding the weave of the hammock more solid than she was expecting. Pragma shook their horned head, closing the book and putting it on the bench beside them.

“I like this place that you made. It is peaceful, and surprisingly well guarded for you being a new mage.” Pragma smiled down at her, still slightly stooped due to the Rowan-sized gazebo. Then they blinked as they looked down at her chest. “That’s new”

Rowan stared at them and looked down. Across her chest was a chest plate, styled the same as Cassandra’s was. But in the middle of her chest was a lock, with a keyhole in the shape of a fourteen pieced heart. Looking at the rest of herself, there were small patches of scale mail covering each of her marks, save for the one on the outside of her right thigh, where a red and bronze fire burned. She looked around, trying to see if any others were uncovered, but only Cullen’s mark remained, burning painlessly against her skin.

“Huh. That is new.” She tapped the plate with a fingernail, bells tinkling with every tap.

“The Fade echoes your feeling in the real world. Perhaps that is why?”

Rowan thought back to the day earlier and nodded. “Definitely why” Then she remembered the price for her lesson the other night. “Hey Pragma? Can you bend down for a sec? I need to see something.”

Pragma cocked their head and leaned down as asked, only for Rowan to grasp their face and press a gentle kiss to their lips.

“There, price paid,” She said, grinning as she pulled back. Pragma stared blankly back, then a tiny smile appeared on their face.

“Most mages wheedle their way through deals, wager and haggle. It is refreshing to see one who pays their dues without hesitation.”

“I won't hesitate if I can deal with the price. If I don't like the price, I don't make the deal” Rowan pulled aside the vine curtain, stepping gently on the grass spread around the gazebo. Tiny white morning glories littered the ground, opening and closing with the wind.

“Seems fair.” Pragma followed her out and plucked a rose from the trellis, it’s color dripping onto their hand. The spirit tucked the flower behind Rowan’s ear, smearing electric pink against her cheek. “Pink looks good on you. Brings out the life in your cheeks”

“Thanks.” Rowan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and frowned at the sky. “I have a request, and I want to know the price”

“Ask, and I will tell”

“Courtship procedures. For as many cultures as you know”

Pragma cocked their head in surprise. “For your Missing I presume?”

“Ye- wait. Missing?”

Pragma touched the scale mail on her shoulder and the connecting gorget around her neck. “They are not yet yours, a piece missing from your heart. Once they accept your gift, they will be a part of your soul, only parted in death.”

“Oddly poetic, but yeah. I need to know how to court them, in their way.” She looked down and rubbed at her shoulder. “I want them to be happy, but I want to see if I can make them happy”

Pragma considered the offer. “A fair desire. I grant it”

“And the price?” Rowan raised a brow, perching on the now carved redwood log serving as a bench.

“Same as before. A kiss, on your next visit. But, I will not be here next time.”

“Then who receives the kiss?”

“My sibling, Eros. They would like to meet you, but I thought a warning is in order. They can be...overwhelming. To say the least. Do you agree?”

“I do”

And with those words, Pragma pressed a kiss to Rowan’s lips, flooding her mind with the nuance, process and order of courtship in Thedas.

Then she woke up with a pounding headache, a roiling stomach and a want to punch Orlesian traditionalists in the face for their courtship bullshit.

Chapter Text

Rowan groaned as she rolled over, her stomach surging with every movement. Feeling unstable, she hopped over to the window and lost the tea she had drunk before and the few bite of bread she had managed to get down.

“Ugh” She slid to the ground when she was done, holding her head. “What the fuck”

“Herald? Are you well?” Rowan looked up to see Athras, dressed in a loose tunic and breeches. The elf was plainly fresh out of bed, her hair a mussed golden cloud around her face.

“I'm fine Athras. I think I chugged when I was supposed to have sipped.” She gave Athras a half-smile and winced as her head pounded again. “I don't suppose you have anything for a headache?”

Athras sighed. “Come, let's get you to Adan” Athras helped her over to her bed and handed her the leg Harritt had made her. Rowan slid it on easily, remembering the way Harritt's hands fixed the little toggles and keys to fit it.

She slid a pair of boots and a jacket and then followed Athras out into the dim Haven morning. The sky was still slightly gray, the shadows still long against the ground. Only a few people milled around, the night watch going to bed as the morning watch went into position.

They arrived at Adan’s cabin without interruption, only to find that the apothecary was still asleep in his bed.

“Well, there goes that idea” Rowan quietly sighed, shifting the jacket on her shoulders.

“Perhaps there is something in the Chantry?” Athras suggested, frowning at the door. “They must have something for expecting mothers”

Rowan gave her a look. “I'm not pregnant Athras.” She rubbed her temples and turned. “Let's go anyway.”

“Wait” A voice came from her left and she looked over to see Solas in the doorway of his cabin. “Are you not feeling well?”

“She has nausea and a headache. But Adan is sleeping and we cannot get in” Athras answered.

Solas shook his head and gestured for them both to come in. “I have headaches occasionally. I think I will be able to help.” Both women followed him in, standing as he puttered around the cabin, grabbing herbs and such to mix together. “You may sit if you would like.” He motioned to a pair of chairs on the side of the room and they gladly sat down, Rowan again adjusting her jacket from the cold.

Athras noticed the ingredients and blinked. “Were you raised Dalish hahren?”

Solas looked up with a furrowed brow. “I was not. Why do you ask?”

“The herbs you are mixing together. My Keeper would mix the same thing together when the children would get sick” She stood and walked over, watching his hands mix and crush herbs together. “I never had the talent for poultices and potions. Too many things to go bad if mixed wrong”

The two elves talked while Rowan watched, seeing the smile on Solas’ face and the matching one on Athras’. Ignoring the part of her screaming and her headache, she slipped out of the cabin and began to walk. She went to her cabin and dressed, slipping on a breast band and thicker tunic to go with her breeches and jacket.

Ignoring the pounding behind her eyes, she slipped out the front doors, past the field and onto a snowy bluff overlooking the little village. Tiny figures milled about, more coming out of the cabins as time went by.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and focused.

It was harder to ground with a headache, but she was willing to try, even if only to get away from it for a while.

Her ‘core’ was a swirling mess, threads unwrapping from the skein and tangling with each other, making it harder to control, harder to spin. Quietly, slowly, she loosened the knots in her chest, letting the loose thread float before moving on. The loose thread was braided into flat plaits that followed the line of the rest, fortifying the outside. She clipped the remaining loose knots that were black or sickly green and let them dissolve.

Next, she spun the thread and braids into a cord, allowing it to coil like a snake around her ‘body’. The cord kept going, unceasing even as it spiraled down, below her. Layers of snow fell away, until she was in dirt and rock and below, where there was unceasing fire and the taste of blood on her tongue.

The blood spilled over her but sizzled on the sparkling indigo lightning of her cord. The fire and blood became slumbering beasts, one made from a summer night, warm and peaceful and joyous.

The other felt like cold, the feeling of cold iron and emptiness, but also of power and snowfall. She let her cord curl up between the beasts, letting their soft whuffs and snores ease her aching chest. She pulled back after what seemed to be an hour, pulling the cord up like an anchor.

Past each layer, she let a pulse go, the feelings of heartache and sorrow, of joy and love, rippling through each until she felt lighter. When she unspun the cord, it was lighter and thinner, the indigo more vibrant against her void.

Opening her eyes, she became aware again of her body. The ache in her head was lessened and her stomach was much happier. The sun was over the mountains now, casting Haven in a warm glow. The soldiers in the field were training and she could see Cullen’s coat fluttering in the wind as he instructed them.

She made to stand, only to find her legs staticy and asleep. Adjusting, she lay down, legs spread out until she was in a snow angel position.

She didn't know how long she lay there before she heard the soft crunch of snow, turning her head to see both Solas and Athras staring at her.

“Hello.” She said, feeling light and soft against the snow.

“What in the Creator’s name are you doing?” Athras walked over to her and looked her over as if looking for injuries.

“Grounding. You two looked like you wanted to be alone, so I left you alone” She caught the look in Athras’ eyes. “Should I not have?”

“I am your bodyguard, Herald. I am to stay with you to keep you safe.”

“And my inner circle is my soulmates. But I don't see them accepting me. I am a grown woman” Rowan stood, waving off the helping hands. “And I do not need a babysitter”

“What do you mean ‘not accepting’ you?” Solas cut in, brow furrowed.

“I mean exactly what I said. So far, I have met a total of six of my soulmates and only one of them has accepted the bond. The others treat me like a child or a holy figure, or” she looked in Solas’ eyes “they don't talk to me at all. Hard to build a bond on that, don't you think?” The older elf winced, knowing what he had done.

Rowan smiled at Athras. “I am going back to the cabin to study. Join me if you like, but I won't be leaving it anytime soon”

Neither elf followed her as she went down the snow bank, only pausing to skritch a stray nug behind its ears.

“She is your nas’falon?” Athras turned to Solas with a concerned look. “Why have you not bonded yet?”

Solas frowned back. “I am an apostate elf more than twenty years her senior. There is no reason she would want someone like me, nas’falon or not”

Athras shook her head as she went down the back intent on going to the tavern. “If I didn't know better, I would say she wants you a great deal”

She left Solas on the snowbank, alone and thinking about the way Rowan had looked in the snow, still and unblinking, and how his heart had seized when she had smiled at him.

Chapter Text

Rowan hadn't slept for two days.

After she came back from her excursion, she had begun to experiment with her magic. First, she had lit a candle with a breath (Thank you Practical Magic), then she made a ball of light hover for a few seconds above her head before she lost the focus to maintain it.

She realized quickly that the main part of Thedasian magic was focus and feeling. Some magic, like hurling fire and lightning, was feelings based, the instinct to fight. The focus was better for larger things, like making the wards that now littered the wall of her cabin.

She also found that half the books Cassandra had given her were absolute bullshit. The books detailed the wards as things that not only were built as symbols without feeling but also as things that had to be layered and not mixed together.

Rowan threw that out the window the moment she made an electric green don't look at me ward mixed with a lemon-scented go the fuck away one. The result made her notebook glow a little after it was put on, and the cabin now always smelled faintly like lemon meringue pie. But she was happy and now neither Athras or Vanyel touched her notebook, even if it was less than a foot away.

Now to make one that made it so the windows were actually blocked during night-time, instead of covered with a piece of cloth that did nothing to keep the heat in.

She was in the middle of putting a white light spell and a church bell sound spell on a stone when Athras barged in shouting.

“Herald! I need you to come with me!” Athras grabbed Vanyel off the bed (to his squeaky displeasure) and put him in a bag as she also grabbed another bag from a peg behind the door.

“Whoa! What’s going on?” Rowan stood, waving away the diagram and storing the magic somewhere behind her heart.

“Avvar. A whole troupe of them are coming down the mountain. We need to get you to safety” Athras led Rowan out the door with a hand on her back, glad the Herald was already awake.

“Avvar, avvar... wait, the mountain tribesmen? Aren’t they normally peaceful?” Rowan waved off the hand, taking Vanyel out of the bag and cradling him.

“Normally. But normally only a few come down the mountain at a time for hunting. That is not a hunting party” Athras pointed to something beyond the gates and Rowan saw a small contingent of men and women in armor, riding-

“Are those nugs!?”

“Nuggalopes. The Avvar like to ride them into battle.”

The two women watched the group march, painted and solemn.

“I want to go down there” Athras gave Rowan a horrified look.

“What! No, you are going into the Chantry where it is safe”

Rowan smacked the hand about to grab her arm. “I appreciate the concern Scout Lavellan, but the Chantry will be no safer if they are here for battle.” She handed Vanyel to Athras, and walked away, her movements full of danger and curiosity.

“Sister Leliana is going to kill me”

----------------------------------------------------------

Rowan wove through the crowd, ignoring the looks that the villagers gave her as she went the opposite way of the tide. More than once, someone in scout armor tried to drag her away, only to be met with a glare.

Once she arrived at the gates, she found Cassandra and Cullen standing by them, arguing about what to do.

“Yes, they may be here peacefully Cassandra, but what if they aren't? We are not defensible here. If they try to overwhelm us, who knows how much damage could be caused” Cullen said, watching the troop. His hand was on the hilt of his sword and Rowan was surprised to see that neither warrior noticed her walking up.

“Then we fight until we cannot anymore. But, for right now, we need to think about this logically. If they wanted to lay siege, they would not be marching with clear numbers. Let us deal with this with words before swords.” Cassandra said back. She frowned, looking side to side. “Maker, where is Lady Montilyet?”

“I didn't see her coming down if that what you mean” Both warriors jumped as Rowan walked up, giving her wide-eyed looks.

“Herald! You should be in the Chantry! Where is Scout Lavellan?” Cassandra looked behind her, ready to berate the scout.

“I left her behind with Vanyel. You really think they want to destroy Haven?”

Cullen sighed and rubbed his temples. “We are unsure, but it is best to prepare for all situations,” He looked at the curious expression on Rowan’s face as she watched the nuggalopes get closer. “I don't suppose I could convince you to go back in the gates?”

A soft smile graced Rowan’s face. “Nope. Sorry,”

“Then stay behind me. Let our Ambassador do the talking” Cullen nodded to Josephine as she walked up, her gown slightly out of place.

“Herald, shouldn’t you-”

“Be in the Chantry?” Rowan gave her a raised brow. “Nope”

Josephine opened her mouth to argue when Cassandra cut her off with a shake of her head. “She won't go back Lady Josephine.” She eyed Cullen. “Wonder where she gets her stubbornness from”

“She’s your soulmate too Cassandra”

“Shh! They’re here!” Rowan leaned forwards as a few of the Avvar dismounted and walked towards them on foot. Cullen nudged her behind him as they came forward, hand on his sword hilt.

“Greetings lowlanders. We are Avvar from the White Raven tribe. We come peacefully to trade and feast with your people. Will you welcome us?” One of the band spoke, a tall woman dressed in painted leathers and braided back chestnut locks. She eyed Cullen’s sword and raised a brow at Rowan peeking around him. Rowan gave her a quiet smile in response.

Josephine stood forwards, her hands loose by her sides. “Apologies for the hostile welcome. We are still establishing our outpost and we were unsure of your troop's intentions. It has been a... difficult time to adjust to.”

The fore-woman nodded. “The Lady has been wounded, is true. But in time such as this, we must band together in order to seal her wounds” The woman thumped her fist against her chest. “I am Eina An Tela O White Raven. You are?”

Josephine blinked at the formal introduction and followed suit with the salute. “I am Lady Josephine Montilyet of Antiva. This is our Commander Cullen Rutherford of Ferelden and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast of Nevarra.”

“A lowlander noble, a dog-lord and a dragon slayer? Interesting group. And the one hiding like a fennec in a cave of Varghest?”

Cullen bristled on Rowan’s behalf before she punched his arm. “Apologies for my soulmates Eina O White Raven. They can be protective.” She came out from behind Cullen with a smile and came forwards. “I am Rowan Kent, daughter of Moira. It is a pleasure to meet you” She too gave a salute, holding her fist over heart as she bowed.

The Avvar woman laughed, coming forwards and slinging an arm over Rowan's shoulders. “Not such a fennec after all then. Perhaps a young wolf?”

Rowan laughed with the woman, surprising her soulmates. “Perhaps. Come, be welcome in our halls. We do not have much to trade, but I am sure we can make due” She raised a brow at Josephine who followed Rowan’s lead by having the soldiers nearby open the doors.

“Shall we negotiate a trade agreement?” Josephine fell in line with Rowan and Eina, while Cullen and Cassandra followed close behind, both glaring at the hand around Rowan’s shoulders.

“I am Huntmaster, not an augur.” She turned back, motioning for the rest of the ones on foot. Two broad-shouldered men and another woman, dressed in cloth instead of armor approached, the men flanking the woman. “These are our augurs. Heimarr Ar Amund, Del Ar Amund and my wife Madri An Amund.” She gave Rowan a wide smile. “Magic run well through Amund’s line. Many of his children are blessed by the Mountain Father with gifts of fire and ice.”

Rowan noticed Cullen tense, remembering his reaction to her own magic. She tapped his hand and smiled at him when he looked her way. ‘It’s okay’ she mouthed, trying to reassure him. He nodded, loosening his shoulders but kept a hand on his sword.

“Welcome augurs of White Raven. Shall we discuss trade?” Josephine smiled charmingly at the Avvar and Madri smiled back.

“If you wish. Lead on” Madri motioned forwards and Rowan squeaked as Eina leaned down and kissed her wife. Madri and Del followed Josephine into the Chantry, which was finally allowing people out. Some of the people crinkled their nose at the Avvar, while others stared with open curiosity as some of the Avvar began to set up tents and fires near the iced-over lake.

“Dog-lord! Come, spar with me!” Eina let go of Rowan to clap Cullen on the shoulder, grinning. The commander gave a smiling Rowan and Cassandra shocked look as the Huntmaster walked away with him, excited to test his mettle.

“I think the Commander is going to need some assistance Herald” Cassandra eyed the remaining Avvar, who stood silently near the two of them. “Will you be alright by yourself?”

Rowan snorted. “I'll be fine Cassandra. I’ll give Heimarr a tour, and then meet you at the training fields”

Cassandra nodded and gave Heimarr a look, the Avvar breaking eye contact after a moment. “As you wish Herald”

As Cassandra walked away, Rowan sighed, sliding a hand over her face.

“Sorry about that, Cassandra is very protective of me. Where would you like to see first?” She watched Heimarr’s eyes widen and a smile appeared on his painted face.

“Wherever you will grant me leave, little wolf” He replied, seeing Rowan’s eyes widen in turn.

Oh dear.

Chapter Text

The training field was deafening.

Eina and Cullen had been sparring for what seemed like almost an hour, the two circling each other and landing hits when they could. But both of them were good warriors and apparently good leaders. Both sides had an influx of people cheering for them, both scouts and soldiers cheering for Cullen and the entire Avvar camp cheering for Eina.

But there was something missing.

Rowan.

Cassandra had waited, quite patiently for the Herald to appear. But, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the young woman, even though her vibrant hair should have stood out amongst the metal armor and painted leather.

Looking around, she spotted one of the scouts on Rowan’s protective detail.

“Scout Cadash, do you know where the Herald is? She was supposed to be here minutes ago” The dwarf looked up at her, interrupting her cheering for the Commander.

“Last report I got was that she was with that big Avvar fellow. Hammer? Hemmer? Anyway, they were practicing magic near one of the bluffs. Looks like some weird stuff from what I heard”

With that description, Cassandra ran for the bluffs.

She could taste the magic, two distinct scents in the wind. One was familiar, the ozone and caramelized strawberries that followed Rowan’s bursts of magic. The other was almost opposite, soft leather and crackling ice flowing like a stream around Rowan’s.

Cassandra rounded the hill to a scene she was not expecting.

The first thing she noticed was the positioning of the two mages. The Avvar was behind Rowan, one hand around her waist and another drawing in the cloud before them, winding with magic. His chin sat comfortably on the top her head while she sat, legs outstretched between his, back against his chest.

Her own hands manipulated the cloud, changing it’s color as the two talked.

“I'm telling you, a church bell would be much louder for something like that. Have you ever been inside a room with a huge ass bell? That shit is loud” Rowan was insisting, to the Augurs amusement.

“I imagine it would be. But I still think a thunder clap would work just as well.”

“But Heimarr. Think about getting knocked out because of a bell. What would their friends think?”

“If any were left alive” Heimarr pointed out. Rowan’s nose crinkled as she thought it over.

“Still” She smiled and leaned her head up until Heimarr lifted his head from hers. Her slightly manic smile turned soft as she looked at him, a fact that made Cassandra’s heart ache for some reason. “I'm glad you agreed to help me with this. Its... difficult learning about things when you only have books”

Heimarr pressed his cheek to hers. “It is my pleasure. I would not let my soulmate” what “squander her talent by not teaching her” Cassandra watched him brush a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I do not know how you have not been trained beforehand. You have knack for making spells like this”

“There hasn't been a teacher to teach me yet” Rowan narrowed her eyes at a spot in the cloud and twisted her hand, changing the cloud from steel gray to dusky pink.

“Didn't you say that you are bonded to another mage-blood? Can he not teach you?”

“Solas? Yeah, sure, right after Cassandra stops calling me Herald and Leliana stops treating me like glass” A frown crossed Rowan’s face. “They all treat me like glass”

“Perhaps it is because you are precious to them?”

“Maybe” Rowan lifted the Marked hand, the green glow highlighting her eyes. “But they don't even treat me like... me. They act like I’m some thing, meant to be put on a high shelf and kept there” An ache bloomed in Cassandra’s chest as a sad smile appeared on Rowan’s face.”I’ve heard their plans. Get me taught, have me talk to the Clerics. Keep me safe, hidden from the world. But I keep hearing about the people who aren't. The people dying at the Crossroads, the war raging across half of Thedas.” She turned her head, resting her forehead on his chin.

“I want to help. But I can't do that unless I learn” Rowan turned back to the cloud and pulled it in until it was clasped between her hands. The glow brightened for a moment before stuttering out. When she opened them, a stone lay in her palm, tiny runes and wards covering it.

“What would you learn?” Heimarr hedged slightly, taking the stone from her palm and dropping it among a small pile next to his thigh.

“How to fight. How to be stronger. How to keep them safe.” Her gaze rested on the Breach. “How to make them happy”

Rowan and Heimarr sat silently for a while, the Avvar curling around her more as time passed. After a few moments, Cassandra left, quietly walking down the snow bluff. The cheers from the training field filled her ears, announcing a tie as she passed. She caught Cullen’s eye from across the field and motioned with her head to the gates.

The two of them headed to the Chantry, Cullen recognizing the look on her face.

It was time that the Inner Circle had a discussion.

Chapter Text

“Mind telling us why we’re here Seeker? Your messenger wasn't very clear,” Varric asked from his chair in the corner. Next to him, Solas nodded in agreement.

“Is the Herald in danger?”

Cassandra shook her head. “Not particularly. This is more about her... emotional health than her bodily health” Her eyes swept the collection of people around her. It was hard to imagine that Rowan could have so many different people has her soulmates, from Templar and Seeker to Bard and Apostate.

But then, what did Cassandra know? She had pushed away Rowan the moment they had met.

“What are you talking about Cassandra? Do you fear she will have a breakdown?” Leliana spoke up from across the table, her brow furrowing.

“I fear she already has. The very day she woke up, she started to withdraw. How often do we see her outside of her cabin? She may have only been awake for a week, but how many times have we really seen her? According to Scout Lavellan’s reports, she hasn't slept in two days” A circle of confused and concerned frowns met her statement, a small murmur erupting as well.

“What do you mean she hasn't slept?” Solas cut in, arms crossed against his body. “She is still recovering from her attempt to close the Breach. She should be exhausted.”

“Apparently, she has been reading the texts we gave her and practicing magic, although Athras was very vague about what spells,” Leliana answered. “All we know is that she can light a candle and she has warded part of her cabin”

“Any specific ones?”

Leliana shook her head. “Athras says they feel strange. The cabin continuously smells of lemon and when she gets near Rowan’s bed, she has the urge to run the other direction.”

Solas hummed as Cassandra shook her head. “The point is Rowan is withdrawing. And unfortunately for good reason” She looked at each of them intently, meeting each of their gaze. “Besides Cullen, who has accepted Rowan’s Bond? Because I know I have not. And currently she is sitting in the lap of an Avvar who has been the only one of her soulmates to do so, and he has known her for less than a day” Silence rang through the room, no one meeting each other's gaze. Except for Varric, who was looking around like they were all crazy.

“Seriously? Even I acknowledged the Bond and we ended up changing it. The rest of you have no excuse for not doing anything about it” The dwarf said, frowning deeply. “I saw the way she looked at Solas and Cassandra before she tried to close the Breach. It was like-”

“Like she thought we were a dream” Solas finished, causing the room to go dead silent.

After a moment of silence, Josephine spoke up. “So what do we do? We do not know if she even wants us”

“What makes you think I don't?”

The room started, the group turning towards the door.

Rowan stood there, curls windswept and face carefully blank. Her eyes surveyed the room as she entered, Heimarr taking up position behind her.

“Herald-” Cassandra began, only to have Rowan cut her off.

 “No. No more Herald” she bit out, before taking a shuddering breath. “I am done with being handled like glass, and it seems I have to be the one to make that distinction.” The young woman looked up and squared her shoulders, meeting each other eyes.

“I want you. All of you. I get that it can take time for a bond to form, but it cannot form if we do not let it.”

“The Chantry-”

“With all due respect? Fuck the Chantry” A quiet gasp from Josephine. “I'm sorry, but so far? The Chantry has denounced us. We are dead in the water with only our men and each other for support. If we want to make any progress, we cannot separate ourselves. I admit, I have been distancing myself. I want to make you proud of me and I cannot do that at the skill level that I am at right now. I want you to see me as a woman, not your Holy Lady, to be put on a pedestal and kept pretty” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I want you to see me as I am, your soulmate. I am not perfect, far from it in fact. But if you will give me a chance, I will love you with my whole heart for as long as you want me”

“Her- Rowan” Cassandra started, before pausing. “I cannot say that this will be easy. It takes... time to fall in love, and at this point, we do not know how much time we have, if we have any at all”

“Then we don't aim for love” Rowan let a small smile slip onto her lips. “We aim for getting to know each other. From stories” she motioned to Varric “to learning spells” Solas and Heimarr “to training how to fight” Cullen. “Love might come. It might not. But our focus should be knowing each other.” A grin spread across her face, and a part of Cassandra’s heart ached. “What do you all say? Will you know me?”

“I will” Leliana stepped forwards first, to her fellow Hand’s surprise.

“I will” Josephine echoed and the others followed suit until it was only Cassandra who hadn't said anything.

“Cassandra?” A thread of worry was in Rowan’s voice until the Seeker stood straight from where she was leaned over the table. Quietly, she walked to Rowan until she was looking down into her eyes. Rowan stared back, her soft curls wild around her face.

“I will,” She said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “For as long as you will have me”

The smile on Rowan’s face was worth the pain of burning on her shoulder.

“Well,” Rowan exhaled sharply as Cassandra stepped back again, biting her lip. “That was easier than I expected. I was worried there would be more shouting.”

A sharp laugh came from Varric. “With this group? I would be expecting that too” He hopped off his chair and walked over. “Now whats this I hear about you not sleeping?”

Rowan sighed deeply, a slight frown replacing her smile. “I am assuming Athras told on me?”

“You are correct” Cullen frowned at her, concerned. “Have you been having nightmares? Disturbing dreams?”

A shake of her head. “No, nothing like that. I just... have a hard time getting to sleep sometimes. It doesn't help that I’m in an unfamiliar area, surrounded by people I don't know”

“A fair point. But still, you should at least be resting” Leliana looked to Solas. “Is there any adverse effects to not sleeping for long periods of time for mages?”

“There can be, but not normally anymore than for a non-mage. Weakness, fatigue, loss of balance. Hallucinations if they have not slept for long enough. The most concerning thing is that you were doing magic for long periods of time” He frowned lightly at Rowan. “What could be so important that you forwent sleep?”

Rowan blinked at him. “Short answer or long answer?” A raised brow answered her question. “To put it simply, I do not want to be defenceless. I was studying the books you gave me, trying to at least get some sort of grasp on them. But the wording is difficult and I ended up going a different route”

“A fair goal. But wasted if you are too tired to concentrate. There will be more time to practice in the Hinterlands” Cassandra bit down a smile when Rowan’s head whipped towards her, hope on her face.

“Wait, are we leaving Haven?”

The Seeker nodded. “In a few days. There is a Revered Mother in the HInterlands who wants to meet you, and we thought it best if people start associating the Inquisition with change.”

“So I’m gonna be your poster child?” There was a tone in Rowan’s voice that had Cassandra wincing.

“Not completely Rowan” Josephine smiled at the young woman. “People are more likely to rally behind a cause that has some emotional aspect to it. What better way than a group of soulmates trying to stop a war?” She motioned to Solas and Varric. “The bonus of people thinking you are Andraste’s Herald will help, but there are people who would rather follow a woman fighting for a safer world, rather than a religious army”

Rowan considered this. “Seems fair. Will it be only Cassandra, Solas, Varric and me?”

“Not completely. A few scouts will join you and we will need to send a party to scout the area first.” Josephine's eyes flickered to the silent Heimarr behind Rowan. “He may join you as well”

Only to have Heimarr shake his head. “I cannot. Yet. Eina will need me to choose another augur to take my place on our tribe's council”

“How long will you be?” Rowan asked, frowning lightly. Heimarr smiled at her and took her hand.

“Not long. I will likely be back before you are” He pressed his cheek to hers.

“Is there a place you would like to stay? We have some room in the Chantry, or out with the soldiers in the field” Josephine cut in, ever the worrier.

Rowan shuffled her feet. “Actually, I was thinking he could take my cabin. I won't be using it while we are away, and I'm willing to bet you are gonna have Athras with me” A nod from Leliana.

“Well, that settles our travel plans” Varric smiled at Rowan. “Now to get you to bed Thunder.”

“Thunder” Rowan laughed as the dwarf led her out, hand on her back. “That’s the nickname you picked?”

“Hey, I got a writer's eye. It fits more than you think”

The rest of the group watched a Rowan and Varric walked through the chantry, the woman’s smile never fading. Heimarr followed them, although he sketched a salute to them before he left.

“You really think sending her away is a good idea?” Cullen said, stroking the hilt of his sword.

“She cannot grow if we do not give her space Cullen” Cassandra broke her stare and turned towards the map again. “Solas, you will be alright teaching her?”

The apostate nodded. “It will take time as she is a new mage, but it sounds like she has gotten a hold of the basics. The most important thing to teach her at this moment is battle-magic, but there will be plenty of opportunity to teach that on the road”

Cassandra stared at the marker over the Hinterlands. “Hopefully, she will never have to use it”

Chapter Text

Rowan opened her eyes to soft pink skin and body pressed against hers.

“I was wondering when you would come”

Squeaking, Rowan pushed herself away for the body and ended up falling out of the hammock in her gazebo. A figure lounged in the rope swing, dressed in nothing but a silk skirt and a collar, one foot draped over the edge.

“Aw, did I scare you darlin’? Pragma didn't say you were skittish” The being straightened from their position, gracefully sitting up in the hammock. “I’ve been waitin’ for you to show up. Names Eros” Eros flashed a wicked smile, their soft lips framing sharp teeth.

Rowan stared openly. “You're Pragma’s sibling? I was expecting...”

“For us to look alike?” Eros laughed, showcasing the gold around their neck. “Loves we may be, but none of us look the same. How would you mortals tell us apart?”

“Fair enough” Rowan muttered, standing up. She brushed the imaginary dust from her armor, finding more patches of skin revealed beneath the scale mail. “Still doesn't explain why you were spooning me”

“I am Love of the Body dearie. Contact is something I delight in” Eros stood finally, and Rowan was surprised to find that they were only a few inches taller than her, rather than the feet that Pragma had on her. Their horns weren't stubs like Pragma’s, but rather like rams horns in a deep ruby red. Gold highlighted the fire in their eyes and their chest was smooth and lithe, built for endurance rather than strength.

Rowan pinched her brow. “Okay, looks like I’m gonna have to set boundaries. Boundary one: no touching unless both parties consent, got it?”

“Darling, I don't think I’ll ever say no to you” Eros sauntered over, circling her like a big cat.

“The boundary still counts,” Rowan tracked Eros with her eyes, acutely aware of their heat.

They hummed. “Fine. I will obey your boundary. Anything else?”

Rowan hesitated but remembered her price to Pragma. “If I kiss you, will you promise to stop when I say?”

Eros stopped. “Has someone not done so before?” The switch from coy to cold was startling, making Rowan's heart stutter a bit.

“Not everyone knows boundaries,” She said after a moment and didn't meet Eros’s gaze when they lifted her chin with a finger.

“I swear upon my being that no one in this world will touch you unwillingly again if I can prevent it” Eros took away their hand, letting Rowan have her space. Their gold eyes searched hers when she looked back up. “However, there is a price to be paid. Will you pay it willingly?”

“I will” Rowan reached up to cup Eros’s face and paused, only for the spirit to guide her hands the rest of the way.

The kiss was softer than expected, a hearth fire instead of a pyre. Their lips were soft against hers and even though she felt the fangs beneath their lips, when they pulled apart, her lips remained unmarred and unbloodied. Eros laughed lightly against her lips.

“I can see why Pragma likes kissing you. You taste like a strawberry field in a storm,” Their nose nuzzled against her cheek as they stood straight again.

“You're not so bad yourself,” Rowan joked back, feeling fuzzy-headed.

“What would you say if I asked you to stay?” Eros was purring again, a soft rumbling that echoed in the gazebo. It made the ground beneath her feet buzz and her head absorbed it as well, making Rowan dizzy. “You could feel like this forever you know. Stay with me, full of pleasure and safe from those who would harm you.” A soft brush against her cheek, fangs scraping her cheekbone. “Just say yes,” Arms encircled her waist and tipped her head back onto Eros’s shoulder.

Rowan blinked up at the white ceiling above her, the wall’s slowly dripping into candle wax against the grass. The roses began to cry, turning blood red as the vines pulsed like a heartbeat.

Rowan smiled and turned in Eros’s arms, brushing her lips against theirs, feeling teeth in their smile. And all at once, her voice echoed like a thunderclap in her forest.

“NO” She spoke, and the pleasure shattered like a mirror, fracturing until she could feel the blood dripping down her cheek.

She jerked awake soon after, breathing heavily. She gulped down air as she struggled to sit up, holding her head in her hands. Shuddering, she ran her hands over her face and looked out the window. It was still dark, not even the grey of pre-dawn peeking over the mountains.

Making a decision not to go back to sleep, she dressed quickly and quietly, careful not to disturb Athras. Looking around for her prosthetic, she blinked when she not only found the leg Harritt made her, but also a pair of metal and wood crutches leaning against the wall.

She tied off the end of her pants, knotting the fabric just beneath her stump. The crutches were the forearm style, a tiny fabric sleeve slipping over her arm until it was tucked carefully underneath her elbow and tightened slightly.

Outside, she found very few people lingering about. There were a few scouts and soldiers milling about, likely assigned to the night watch. A few met her eyes as they passed each other, inclining their head, but not making any forward movements. She also noticed a few breaking from the pack when they saw her, likely to report to Leliana or one of her not-so-secret bodyguards.

Spy, she may be, but subtle Leliana was not.

She continued on, finding the light of the two moons and the Breach a good guide for her path. The doors out of Haven were guarded, likely a safety measure to prevent people coming in during the night. But, just past the merchant's row was a small path, barren and snowy.

It was perfect.

Rowan continued down the little path, happy to find a place to be alone inside the walls of Haven. As she arrived near the top though, she found something she was not expecting.

Trebuchets. Huge ones. A soft coo passed her lips as she neared them, inspecting the mechanisms and careful construction. It was still very new, a good chunk of the pieces still scattered on the ground or set against the wooden walls of the border.

But the best part, however, was it was a perfect place to rest. She carefully undid the fabric sleeves and perched herself on one of the many piles of wooden beams. The wood was hard beneath her, but it kept her from sleeping, which was a good thing. Now if only she had a blanket to curl up in.

No sooner had the wish passed through her mind that a bundle of cloth hit the side of her head. She made a small noise and looked up to see Leliana walking towards her, another bundle in her arms.

“Didn't we just get you to sleep?” The spymaster sat next to her, placing the bundle down gently. Vanyel’s ears poked out and he nuzzled Rowan’s hand when she went to pet him.

“You did. But you can't count on dreams to always be pleasant” Rowan watched as Vanyel wiggled out from his bundle and curled up in her lap.

Leliana hummed as she wrapped her own blanket around her shoulders. “You and many others I suppose. Most of my night scouts have the same issue.” She looked up at the Breach illuminating the sky. “Do you think that the Breach is affecting you?”

Rowan shook her head. “I had nightmares back home, so this is nothing new. I just have more opportunity to wander and get away from it now”

“What do you have nightmares about, if I may ask?”

Melting walls, car doors broken, flashing red lights- “Fire. I have nightmares about fire” Rowan ignored the look Leliana gave her and stared at the Breach, ignoring tingling in her hand. “It's brighter here, you know that?”

“Oh?” Leliana didn't bring up the change of subject, choosing instead to file it away in the back of her mind. “How is that?”

“Back home, we have only one moon for starters” Rowan replied off-handedly. “Lots of moon gods and goddesses, but only one moon, rotating slowly around our planet. Plus, your stars. They’re so bright compared to Earth”

“Do you a lot about these gods and goddesses?” Leliana inquired, joining Rowan in watching the moon's move across the sky.

“A bit. Their names mostly, additional aspects for some others,”

“Like?”

Rowan gave Leliana a side-eyed smile. “What do you want to start with? Greek? Roman? Egyptian? I know about some Celtic and Norse as well.”

Leliana looked at her in surprise. “Are there so many religions where you are from?”

The younger woman nodded. “Ye-up. A good chunk of them are only practiced in smaller circles now, most of the old parts preserved in history and story. But there are still people who practice them.”

“And you? What god do you follow?” The question was carelessly thrown, but Rowan could see the burning curiosity in Leliana’s eyes, the question about whether she believed in a Maker.

“I follow many, and I follow none. I give my worship to the god who aid me and shun those who do not. Cernunnos gives me his blessing when I hunt, as does Artemis, but Ares gives me no blessings when I fight. The Hunt may smite my enemies, or they may not” Rowan gave Leliana a look. “Gods are fickle things, giving blessings to those they feel deserve it. Who am I to ask for their blessing more than any other? I leave offerings, I pray, light candles for dead. I have gone to the church of Christianity, gone to Rome to visit both the Vatican and the Coliseum. I walk the by-ways in the forest and leave milk on our backstep for the fair folk. I love my gods and can only hope they love me back” She looked at the Breach. “I can only wonder what God did this, and what they must think of the world as it is”

Silence followed Rowan’s speech and Leliana looked at a loss for words. She had expected the woman to be against the Maker, a woman against her God. But the woman before her was just as devout as she, in her own way.

The two stayed quiet for the rest of the night as the sky began to gray and people began their work again.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, Leliana stood carefully, her legs half-asleep.

“We will need to fit you for armor today. And get you a weapon as well” Rowan's eyes flickered up at her and she carefully nudged Vanyel off her lap to his displeasure. “I do not want you to go into the field unarmed, although we all hope you will not have to fight.”

“Hope is good, but the danger is inevitable” Rowan smiled at Leliana as she stood, back on her crutches. “Let's just make sure I know how to use the weapons before we start throwing people at me.”

Leliana huffed a soft laugh as the three of them went back to the center of Haven, Vanyel hopping along-side the two woman.

“Now, what types of weapons do you prefer?”

A soft giggle. “Oh, I am gonna have such a fun time with this. Ever heard of a gladiator?”

Chapter Text

After the two of them grabbed breakfast (dark bread, lightly sweetened oatmeal and a cup of tea for Rowan) and got Rowan’s leg from her cabin, Leliana dropped her with Harritt and a bright-eyed dwarf wielding a very large ax, wishing her a good day with a smile on her lips.

“So, the Seneschal says you have ideas for your gear?” The blacksmith didn't look up from where he was pouring over a diagram for a set of armor that a scout had requested. A cup of something steaming and good-smelling sat next to his elbow and Rowan was struck with jealousy as she sipped her bitter tea.

“I do. I did battle re-enactments with a group. We used blunted weapons mostly, but we made our armor to match that old battles when we could and I would prefer to use something I know my way around, even if I haven't been in an actual battle” Rowan placed her cup down on the table next to Harritt, careful to put it away from all the papers and measuring tools.

“Fair. You have drawings?”

“You have paper?”

The next few hours were spent with Harritt and the other smiths crafting as Rowan drew out her armor and weapons. A spear was easy enough, as was the short-sword (a gladius, of course. She would have preferred bronze, just for personal taste but Harritt said Veridium would be better). The hard part was the net and armor. There weren't many fisherpeople in Haven, and even less knew how to make a proper net with metal bits woven into it. And as for armor, the gladiator armor she was used to would cause major badness for many reasons.

Mainly, most people would go for the bare spots on her legs and arms first and the armor itself was made for warmer weather, not permafrost and mountains.

She thought for a while, staring at the blank page in front of her, sighing in frustration. She reached for her likely cold cup of tea, only to find a warm cup of something waiting for her. A glance at her dwarf friend said the drink was alright to take and she took a tiny sip of the drink.

It was coffee.

Actual, dark roast coffee.

She blinked into the cup and happily sipped the drink with a quiet purr of joy. She ignored the snort from her bodyguard and went back to her drawing.

Gradually, she found a design that worked for her. A metal chest plate, much like Cassandra’s, over a leather chassis and plain cotton shirt. The shirt was tucked into a pair of reinforced leather pants, with a belt carrying a few pouches to keep it up. A pair of bracers (more Veridium) and gloves completed the look.

“Are you going to have a helmet Your Worship?” The dwarf interrupted her musing, pointing to the blank space where the head should be.

“Think I need one?”

“You can never be too careful.”

She had a point, so Rowan sketched a simple helmet, with a covered mouth, but kept the eyes and nose uncovered to let her see better.

Harritt approved of the design, citing a few changes he would make to ensure that it would fit comfortably and keep her safe, such as plating the backs of her gloves and adding guards to her shins.

He told it would be hours before they could even test her equipment, metal for her blades still having to be tempered and crafted properly. So Rowan quietly told the dwarf (Isana, she later learned, was her name) that she would be going to the Avvar encampment.

The two of them headed over quietly, seeing that the soldiers were still blinking sleep out of their eyes and yawning with steaming mugs in their hands. Rowan looked for Cullen and Cassandra amongst the milling metal but saw no sign of his blond hair or her familiar breast-plate.

“Ah, little wolf. Have you come to break fast with us?” Eina greeted them at the entrance to their camp, smiling at the two.

Rowan shook her head. “I’ve already eaten. I don't want to impose on your stores.”

Eina shook her head and guided Rowan over to the fire with a hand on her shoulder. “You are not imposing. We have plenty to go around, and food is plentiful when you know where to look” She handed both women bowls containing hot fruit, baked in dying coals with honey and spices.

“It is still early. I am surprised you are not still sleeping after your bout of sleeplessness.” Eina ate her own bowl slowly, savoring the fruit. Rowan gave her a look.

“How did you know?”

Eina laughed. “Heimarr told us. You are all he has gone on about since you met. Including the fact that ‘little wolf’ is not the best title for you”

“What do you mean?” Rowan put her bowl to the side as she finished, wiping her mouth with her thumb.

“Your Mark. The Bond has been completed, and so Heimarr found that your soul is as fierce as a Varghest, and as protective” Eina motioned to not far from them and Rowan turned to see Heimarr coming out of his tent, yawning with his braids undone around his tanned face. The man spotted them easily, picking out her hair from across the camp.

He sat gently next to her and pressed the lightest kiss against her hair as a greeting. “I did not expect to see you so early this morning. Did you sleep?”

“I did” She nosed his cheek in reply, brushing a kiss to his skin. “We were talking about our Marks. Apparently, I have branded you”

Heimarr laughed. “Imagine my surprise when I see a crouching Varghest on my shin when I was undressing for the night. I was expecting a wolf perhaps, maybe a fennec if you were timid. But, to see such a beast is unexpected.”

“He came out of his tent half-dressed and yelling about it as soon as he saw it,” Eina said slyly, smiling into her mug as Heimarr gave her a look. “Do you know what he has marked you with?”

Rowan nodded and rolled up her pant leg, showing them all the sleeping bear curled around his words. “You are certainly big enough for it” She laughed softly and saw the surprised looks on Eina and Heimarr’s face. “What?”

“Bears are sacred to the Avvar” Isana answered, getting a blinking form Rowan. “I lived amongst the Sun Bear tribe when I was younger. You learn things.”

“She is correct” Eina’s fingers twitched to touch the Mark, but she held back as not to offend. Marks were mostly private things, only to be touched by Bonded and family. But Eina was neither and she kept her hands carefully around her mug. “Bears are sacred to Sigfrost, the Great Bear. He sits at the mountain father's feet, granting wisdom to those who pass his challenge” Her eyes flicked to Heimarr. “The Lady must think you wise to show your soul as such”

Heimarr nodded solemnly. “I will not take such a thing lightly. I will endeavor to prove worthy” He looked to Rowan and smiled. “Before you go back to your camp” He motioned off to Haven, where Rowan turned and saw a bald elf waiting at the entrance. “I must wish you goodbye”

“So soon?” Her brow furrowed as he took her hand and kissed it.

“I will be back sooner than you think. Eina had only planned this trip for a few days, and our tribe is waiting for the verdict of the trade settlement.” He tucked a curl behind her ear.

Rowan sighed in response. “I figured. You’ll wait for me?”

“Of course”

The two stood and went to leave, only to have Eina wrap Rowan in a hug before they went two steps. Isana tensed and Rowan gave her a thumbs up to signify it was alright.

As they pulled away, Eina smiled at Rowan. “You are always welcome in our tribe Rowan Kent An Moira O Haven. May the Lady guide your steps and Korth grant you strength”

Feeling bold, Rowan clasped Eina’s hand and inclined her head. “May Cernunnos make swift your steed and grant you a plentiful hunt,” Eina’s smile told her that it was the right thing to do as Heimarr and Isana walked her back to Haven and Solas, who was waiting patiently.

Heimarr kissed her cheek as they approached, leaving her a few feet from the gates. “Until next time my Bonded”

Solas watched the exchange with bright eyes, inclining his head to Rowan as she walked to him. “Rowan. Seeker Cassandra has requested we begin your combat training as soon as possible. Follow me?”

“Of course” Rowan raised a brow at Isana, who followed the two mages. Solas led them across the training fields where the soldiers were now sparring, Cullen and Cassandra joining the fray of swords and shields.

Soon the three of them were in the bluffs just past the side gate. Rowan resisted a laugh when several nugs came out of hiding to sniff at her boots, following them to a large empty area.

“Firstly, we must begin with what you know,” Solas said after a moment, motioning to a trio of staffs leaning against a tree. “As far as we can tell, your affinity seems to be Storm magic. But, going into battle, you may not always be able to use that. If you are fighting in water, Storm can be dangerous to both your foes and allies” He picked up the leftmost staff and handed it to her. “This is made of drakestone. It is attuned to fire, and is best for beginning fire magic, as it is plentiful and easy to manipulate.”

He moved to stand before her and adjusted her grip on the staff. “Even though it may be tempting, the blade is a last resort. Staffs like this are for magic only. The staff you used before had a focus shaped like a spear, so it was easier to use as a true weapon.” He motioned to the bulb at the top, framed by tongs of brown/orange metal. “If you use the focus of this as a melee weapon, you will damage or shatter the focus, rendering it useless as a mage’s tool”

They went through the motions for hours, Solas showing her how to move with the staff and how each type of staff reflected what it was best attuned to.

As they worked, he told her other things, like how fire spells were deadly to everyone in enclosed spaces and it was better for large, open spaces with plenty of air, unlike cold spells, which melted too fast in open areas and helped keep thing still in smaller areas. Little things that made sense when you thought about it for a while, but probably wouldn't occur to someone in the middle of a fight. Soon, he was pushing her to use spells as they move, casting fire and ice bursts next to her, tapping her hands and feet when he saw her sag.

“Keep your staff up,” He said, pushing it up with the blade of his own. “You must be ready to cast, no matter how tired you are” Rowan nodded and straightened back up, ignoring the soreness in her arms. It was worse than mucking out the horse stalls back home, the repetitive motions and swings making her shoulders and biceps hurt.

After a total of four hours, with a few 10-minute breaks scattered throughout, Solas announced them done for the day.

“Well done. Not many apprentices can go for that long” He said, looking down at the sprawling Rowan. She was face down in the snow, arms and legs stretched out in all directions as she breathed heavily.

“How are you not built like a brick shithouse?” She demanded, turning her head to look at him. “I'm used to working my arms, but damn, that was a lot”

Solas chuckled softly as he helped her up. “You will grow used to it after a few weeks” He looked to where the sun was casting long shadows on Haven. “Come. You must be hungry” As if on cue, Rowan’s stomach rumbled, making her face redder than before.

The three of them walked back to Haven, each of them carrying one of the staffs that Solas had brought for the lesson. They left them with Harritt, who told Rowan that he had found a fisherman who could make her net, to Solas’ curiosity.

“A net?” Solas gave Rowan a curious look. “Why would you need a net?”

“It’s an old gladiator trick. If you weigh the net down on the corners and then cast it at a person, you can entangle their feet. Sometimes the smallest distraction is the thing that can sway the odds in your favor.” She opened the door for Solas and Isana and waved them through, ignoring the looks it gained her.

“And if you miss their feet?” He sat gracefully at a table and Isana walked away to order from the bartender.

“Then you either have the choice of hitting them while their sight is obscured or you can book it away from the fight for a re-group”

“You will not always be able to run” He informed her gently.

Rowan’s eyes flickered to him from where she was looking at the woman singing in the corner. “I am aware. But if I do not have to fight, I will not.”

Solas nodded in agreement. “A sound strategy”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, waiting for Isana to finish. The silence didn't last long though.

“Hey, there pretty” A slurred voice made the pair look up and saw a rather flushed human soldier leaning on the wall next to them, staring blatantly at Rowan. “Why don't you abandon that knife ear and spend some time with a real man” He leered at the woman, eyes sweeping from the soft cloth trousers to where her vest hugged her chest.

“Excuse me?” Rowan blinked up at the obviously drunk man in surprise. Oh no, you did not just do that.

The soldier stood with a wobble and loomed, leaning close to her. “I said, you should spend some time with a real man. His little cocklet ain't gonna do nothin’ for you. I can make you feel real good” Rowan saw Solas cringe and narrowed her eyes lightly. A movement made her look to her left, seeing Isana moving closer to the spectacle, a hand on the ax strapped to her back. Rowan caught her eye and made a motion with her hand, telling the dwarf not to bother.

“Is that right?” She practically purred. The soldier's over-bright eyes followed her as she stood and stared quite obviously at her breasts. “You wouldn't do any better than him darling. At least he’d make me come” Someone behind her choked in their throat as the man’s face turned red with anger.

“You little cunt, I’ll-” He was cut off by a right hook to the throat, making him drop with half a breath.

“Now listen here” Rowan pressed her fake leg to his chest, digging her heel into his solar plexus. A small whine followed the pressure and Rowan gave her sweetest smile. “I can tolerate you makin’ fun of me, starin’ at me all drunken like” Slowly, the accent she thought she had gotten rid of came out, sweet like a Georgian peach. “But you insulted my soulmate, and I don't care for that much”

She leaned forwards, putting all of her weight on his stomach. “When I take my foot off of your chest, I’m gonna have my bodyguard escort you to the Commander, where you can explain how you got drunk and insulted his soulmate in front of all of these nice people”

She finished her statement with a shove of her foot as she dismounted, watching the red give way to white as he sputtered. She turned on her real foot and sat quietly back in her seat, smiling at Solas and a wide-eyed Varric, who had taken a seat next to the elf during her little chat.

“Are you alright?” She addressed Solas, her normal tone back with no hint of the drawl from before. Solas nodded and they watched Isana and another scout drag the man out of the tavern.

“Now, that was unexpected Thunder” Varric eyed Rowan, taking note of the light trembling in her hands. “Are you alright? You’re shaking”

“I'm fine. Just adrenaline” She sighed and took the glass set at her elbow by a pretty auburn-haired woman with a small 'thank you'.

“Thank you miss. I was hoping he would just leave, but Henrik once has his eyes on a woman, he gets... pushy” The woman bowed lightly and Rowan gave her a once over.

“That wasn't the first time?” Both of her soulmates noticed the flat, conversational tone in her voice and exchanged a look.

“No miss” The woman looked contrite and kept her eyes on the table. “Mostly he gets rowdy, but he hasn't tried to hurt anyone...”

“Until now”

A nod. “Until now”

“I see” She sipped at the drink and found it was hard apple cider, chilled by snow. “May I ask your name?”

“Flissa miss. I work mainly with the Nightingale when I don't tend the bar. I can put in a good word with her if you need a job”

Rowan contemplated showing her hand, which was pressed gently, but firmly against the table palm down. “No thank you. I work mainly with Master Solas” She motioned to Solas with her cup. Flissa nodded and left the three after placing mugs in front of Varric and Solas, taking another order when she was waved over.

Rowan’s eyes stayed glued to her cup and her nails clicked against the metal, tinkling gently as her mind worked.

“Whatever you are going to do, wait until you get a better plan,” Varric said, taking a drink of his own mug.

“I don't know what you mean” Rowan blinked lazily in his direction, nails still tapping.

“Bull shit. I know that look” Varric leaned forwards and caught her eyes, whiskey gold meeting rift green. “Make a plan first”

Rowan cocked her head and turned to Solas. “And you? Do you agree with Varric?”

“As loathe I am to admit it, I do” Solas sighed and leaned back in his chair, pinning her with his eyes. “It will do you no good to be without a plan, and it cannot hurt to be more prepared”

Rowan hummed into her cider. “As you wish”

Little did they know, Rowan’s head had been working since the words ‘knife ear’ had been spoken and Solas had flinched.

No more.

Chapter Text

After wrapping her hand (that soldier had a jaw like fucking iron) and eating something, Varric pulled out a deck of rather beautifully painted playing cards.
.
“Ever played Wicked Grace Thunder?” Varric shuffled the deck and looked at her expectantly as she sipped her cider.

“Can't say that I have. How do ya play?” Rowan shuffled a bit closer and leaned over the table, eyes roaming over the cards. She was looking so intently at the artwork that she missed the look Isana and Varric exchanged and the smiles that spread over their faces.

Within an hour, Solas was the only sober one at the table. Varric was still only slightly tipsy, a rosy flush spreading across his cheeks as he played. Isana was only slightly drunker, but she made sure she would still be able to protect Rowan if something happened, present company disregarded.

Rowan, however, was resting her head on the table as the others played, glassy eyes intent on their hands. She had stopped after only a couple drinks, but after her first cider, she found out Flissa had whiskey and switched to that instead. Occasionally, she would take a sip of the drink, placed closer to Solas so she wouldn't spill it. However, the elf also made sure she ate between sips, pressing bites of bread and cheese into her palm every other time she reached for the glass.

“Rowan?” A voice came from behind the girl and she turned her head, still laying on the table to see a concerned Cullen standing over her. “Are you alright?”

“She’s fine Curly. Just a little drunk is all” Varric didn't look up from his cards as he spoke and Rowan gave the Commander a dopey smile.

“Cullen!” She slurred happily and finally raised her head from the table, reaching for the Ferelden man. “They’re playing cards. Well, I was too but Varric said I can't play anymore” The girl pouted as Cullen pulled away from her grasping hands, grabbing a chair instead and sitting gingerly at the table.

“Oh? And why is that?” Varric and Isana snorted as Rowan scooted closer to Cullen and rested her head on his pauldron.

“The cards kept swimming and Varric laughed at me when I tried explaining the virtues of snakes,” Rowan whispered loudly. Varrics shoulders began to shake as he tried to stoically deal out another hand for the Commander.

“The virtues of snakes?” Cullen took the hand that Varric dealt him and examined it, trying to ignore the warmth of Rowan that he could feel through the plating on his shoulder and the way she wiggled against his side to see his cards better.

“Snake are nice! They’re slithery puppies! And they give good hugs” Rowan tapped a few cards in his hand and he was surprised to see that she made a good selection and showed her the next few cards he picked up, letting her choose the ones he kept and what he played.

“Are you trying to lose Curly?” Varric watched the way Rowan’s eyes roamed the cards and the scrunch of her nose as she thought about Cullen’s choices. “She’s drunk and has the worst Grace face I’ve ever seen”

The Commander hummed and shrugged one shoulder, careful not to dislodge the girl. “She’s having fun. Might as well indulge her”

Rowan surprised them when she gave a low purr and smiled softly at Cullen. “Thank you Cullen” she rumbled and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, only for the Commander to turn beet red when she did so. The young woman gave no reaction as she went back to her previous spot as Varric and Isana laughed, while Solas gave a small smile.

“It seems that Rowan has had enough if she does such things without thought,” Solas said, eyeing her hand as it reached for her cup. He quietly diverted her hand, switching the whiskey for a glass of water. Rowan blinked at him and the glass in her hand.

“Am drunk?”

Varric snorted as Solas nodded quietly, urging her to drink the water. “You are. Would you like to sleep now?”

“My gazebo is melted. I can't fix it yet” The girl drink the water quickly and Solas refilled it just as quick, eyebrow quirked at her words.

“Your gazebo? Why is it melted?” He placed his hand down as the Angel of Death card was played and Isana cheered, taking the meager winnings and placing the coins in her purse.

“Eros” Isana’s cheer tapered out as the table all turned to look at the young mage. “They held me and told me I'd be safe and the walls melted. They made my roses cry too”

“Rowan, when was this?” Solas motioned for Cullen to move her, making her sit up straight. It earned him a confused look, but the girl followed the lead, sitting fully back into her chair.

“Last night” Solas handed her another piece of bread to help sober her up and she nibbled it gratefully.

“I see” He exchanged looks with Cullen, who watched Rowan with unsure eyes. “Have you met anyone else?”

Rowan nodded, the movement looking less jerky as she sobered. “I met Pragma first. They helped me figure out what was going on.”

“And how did they do that?”

“They walked with me until I made somewhere safe” Rowan’s eyes fluttered and she swayed a little, nearly slipping out of her chair.

“Whoa there Thunder. I think it’s time you go to bed” Varric reached out to steady her, hands gently gripping her arms. Rowan nodded after a moment, brow furrowed.

“I will set up wards for her tonight” Solas stood, grabbing the pitcher of water from the table. “I do not think she would be able to defend herself if problems arose” Cullen hummed in agreement as he stood as well. He gently pulled the girl to her feet, and caught her as she stumbled, her hands grasping at his coat for balance.

“I don't think I can stand” She muttered into his breastplate. Isana snorted as she stood as well.

“How about I pay the tab while you get the Herald to her bed. Bad enough she has more magic lessons tomorrow. Now she's gotta do it hungover” The dwarf eyed Solas, who was coming back from refilling the pitcher. “Unless you’re going to take mercy on her and let her off easy”

A slight smirk graced Solas’ face. “I am afraid not” He eyed where Rowan was half asleep, leaning against a red-faced Cullen. “Commander, would you assist me in getting her to bed? It seems she can not stand on her own.”

Cullen nodded and with a swift motion, scooped a squeaking Rowan into his arms in a princess carry. Varric began to laugh at the surprised expression on the young woman’s face and wished her a good night as Mage and Templar took her to her cabin.

The trio got strange looks from several scouts and soldiers, although a few of them saluted to Cullen on their way past. Halfway there, Solas looked back at the woman in Cullen’s arms and found her blinking sleepily, curled up in the Commander's arms. Her drowsy green eyes met his and she gave him a soft smile as he opened the door, finding Athras already pacing the room.

“Herald! Isana told us you were practici-” She paused as she took in the sight of Solas and Cullen, with a dozing Rowan in his arms.

“Athras! You missed Wicked Grace night” The younger Mage squirmed in Cullen’s arms and he let her down with an indulgent smile as she went from his arms to hugging the surprised scout around the waist.

The scout gave both men a wide-eyed look as Rowan let her go and wandered over to her bed, beginning to work on the buckles on her prosthetic. “How drunk is she?” The woman whispered, coming closer to them. “She’s not normally this touchy”

“Drunk enough that I will be setting her wards tonight” Solas eyed the walls of the cabin, finding scattered marks all over them. Some were for heat, others for air. He looked closer at one of them and found it was a warning ward, keyed to ill-intent. Very well done for an apprentice. “She did these on her own?”

Athras nodded. “She read the books Seeker Pentaghast brought her but when I woke up the next day, the books were scattered all over and she was scribbling in a notebook muttering” Both men gave her looks at that, which she responded to by shrugging. “I figured it was a Mage thing. Our First did it too before-” her mouth twisted and she looked to the side. “Before he died”

“I am sorry for your loss Scout Lavellan” Cullen rumbled as Solas turned back to the wards. “Did you see what was in the notebook?”

“Unfortunately no. Every time I tried to touch it, or even get near it, I would get this feeling. Eventually, I stopped trying”

“What feeling?” Solas looked at her as his hands drew shapes in the air, careful to use Circle approved wards while Cullen was in the room.

“Green” Rowan responded, throwing her shoe at her desk, rattling the chair. The noise made Cullen jump but the two elves just looked blankly at Rowan.

“The feeling was green?” The older mage raised an auburn brow. “How do you feel ‘green’?”

“Warning. Bright green, unnatural green, means stay away. Means poison, don't touch” Rowan began to work on the toggles to her vest, giving up after a moment. “The lemon brings memories of sour, sour normally means it's bad for you, toxic in some way. What do you do when the book you're looking at smells and feels like poison?” She smiled at the others surprised looks.

“You stay away from it” Solas rewarded her intelligence with a smile. “Well done Rowan” The girl beamed dopily at his praise as he turned to the others. “Pardon me Commander, but I need to put up a few more delicate wards. While I thank you for your aid, I fear your... history may interfere with the placing” He said the words as delicate as he could, careful not to insult the Commander. Luckily Cullen understood his meaning.

“You mean my training. I understand. Shall we?” He turned to Athras, who nodded and the two exited the cabin, Rowan waving after them. “Good night Rowan,” He said, giving her a slight bow as the door closed.

“Night Cullen” She shouted back before looking back to Solas, who was making a very complicated ward the size of a buckler shield. Looking closer, she felt friend, warning and welcome intertwined in its core.

The two languished in silence for a few moments before Rowan spoke.

“Do you think they miss me?” Her voice was small, but Solas’ keen ears heard it well.

“Who? Surely not Cullen and Athras?” He stayed looking forwards, hands carefully pressing the ward into the wood.

“No, not them. My family”

Solas froze, hand dropping as he turned to her. Rowan laid on her back, the nug she had adopted sleeping on her chest while her vibrant eyes were fixed on her hand. On his mark. He wondered briefly what would happen if tried to take it again. On the opposite wall, her warning ward began to glow and he pushed away the thought before she could notice.

“I am sure they do. Can you not write them?” He carefully faced back to his work, still tense and awaiting her answer.

“I don't think I can reach them. Not this far” A small sigh escaped her. “I don't even think I can go home. Not anymore”

Silence echoed in the cabin, broken by the soft snores of the nug.

Solas finished his work quickly, intent on getting out of the cabin before he did something rash. “Rowan, these-” He stopped in the middle of his sentence as he took in the scene before him.

Rowan was sleeping. Her vibrant hair obscured part of her face, while also making her look her age, a mere 21 to his thousand years. So young for such a burden. Gently, he brushed the hair away from her face and chuckled softly at the crinkling of her nose.

“Good night Rowan” He left the cabin and let the girl sleep.

He would see her in the Fade soon enough.

Chapter Text

Rowan opens her eyes and finds her surroundings fuzzy and indistinct. The gazebo around her is atomized, the shapes not holding together very well. The melted walls ripple under her curious fingers and the floor wavers under her roughened feet like a leaking waterbed.

Carefully, she walks out of the gazebo and finds her space empty. Before, it had been full of life, flowers, and someone to talk with. But now, her space is enclosed by huge stone walls, made of grey bricks and gaps filled with fossilized moss and mortar. The flowers are gone and in their place is grey cobblestone and even though she can see green peeking up, it feels lifeless and barren.

A touch to the walls around reveals that they are the only truly solid thing in her space, solid in the same way she still feels hazy. She gives a push to them, wondering just how strong they are. They push back gentle as gravity, unyielding and stable but not malicious.

After a while, she finds that the area is a near perfect hexagon, and has no roof, allowing her to look into the endless gray above her. Trapped by gray, her little white and red melted gazebo stands out, as hazy and atomized she feels. It looks wrong in the space and she bristles at what Eros did and wonders who encaged her, making her feel small in the grey stone.

“So this is where you stay” A voice makes her jump, the silence broken. She turns to see Solas walk into her space via a small archway, molded from the same grey stone as the walls. Behind him, she sees the vague shape of an elf woman dressed in blue, a sorrowful Pragma and a huge, russet cat-like creature with a grin that makes her jaw ache, before the archway disappears in the stone, entrapping her. His eyes sweep the bare stone floors and the green struggling to break through the mortar. They flicker over the gazebo and the melted walls, the drooping trellis and scorched rose vines.

“It feels safe” Rowan defends, and Solas turns fully to her, a slight smile on his face.

“No need to be defensive Rowan. The fade can be a place of safety, just as reality can be.” He walks further into her space and runs his hand over her gazebo, the melted wax quivering under his touch. Rowan watches impassively, eyes carefully tracking his movements. Out of the corner of her eyes, a russet shape leaps down from the wall, long tail flicking. “Interesting choice of venue, I must admit. Why wax?”

“It didn't use to be wax” Rowan steps closer and keeps some awareness on the cat-thing lingering against the walls. A push of thought and catnip sprouts along the walls, growing from the moss. The near delighted cackle makes her suppress a grin. “It was marble. Eros broke it when they tried to possess me” Solas’ hand halts it's path as he untangles the broken web of her hammock.

“Tried? Desire demons are not known to let go so easily” Rowan takes the ropes from his hands and with a thought, burns them in a flickering violet fire. The ashes float up, mixing with the grey void above them.

“Perhaps I am not an easy quarry” She turns from the older mage, missing his measuring look. The wax walls are easy to get rid of, becoming more solid as her mind settles. It comes off in chunks as she pulls it down, hands gripping the melted globs easily. She feels Solas behind her and is quietly glad he doesn't touch the gazebo as she rips it down. This is her place, and she feels him all around her, in the stone and mortar. It grinds against her mind and something whispers about entrapment.

“Perhaps” He agrees and lets her rip down her one safe place. Once she is done and the once-marble dissipates into the stone, he watches as she looks to the walls, frowning.

“What did you do Solas?” She finally turns back to him, but her eyes are everywhere, looking for cracks in the walls and floor. She will find none, he made sure of that.

“I set up a barrier for you. With the threat of possession, it seemed the best way of defending you” He watches as her shoulders curl in, making her smaller than she already is.

“It's... stifling.” Her eyes finally meet his and he is surprised by the winding darkness in them. “Can you take it down?”

“Down? Are you not concerned about possession?” He pushes gently. Part of him wonders if he would prefer her with a spirit. Perhaps one of Valor, to augment her quiet nature, or Purpose to aid her in her mission. But even then, she would not be of the People.

“I can handle possession Solas. But this?” Her steps are light and his eye is caught by the leg she has made for herself, starlight flesh radiant in the gray. Her hands touch the walls and her push is stronger than anticipated. The wall creaks and he feels one of the many individual stones crumble against her will, with a few more knocked loose from their places. “I refuse to be trapped, even for my own protection”

Before she can go any further, he walks to her and pulls her away. “If that is your wish, I will take it down. But please, do not try to take it down with force.” He looks her in the eyes and feels the seething storm beneath her facade, and wonders what she could have been. “I do not wish for us to be interrupted by unkind spirits.”

Her nod is terse and he carefully undoes the barrier, letting the stones crumble gently into the air, pieces going into smoke as they rise. He creates gateways in the walls easily but feels that taking down the entirety of the barrier would be unwise. Eventually, the walls are shorter and softer, with holes for windows and ornate archways decorating them.

He can feel the tension leech out of Rowan, and soon she is standing by him, hands gentle against the carved stone of the archway. There is another layer to the barrier, the actual force of it, that he keeps and Rowan says nothing at the green spread of his magic that shines like glass in each archway and window. She can pass if she wants too and can allow others in.

“Thank you Solas” She whispers and walks away, feet making no noise on the dream stone.

Chapter Text

When Rowan wakes in the morning, it's to the taste of stale alcohol in her mouth and a blinding headache. Solas’ interference takes backseat as Athras notices her stirring and hands her a bucket and a glass of water.

“‘Re an angel” Rowan slurs before the contents of last night make their appearance. Athras holds her hair back as she finishes and watches carefully as Rowan swishes the water before spitting.

“It’s my job Herald” Athras replies finally, taking the bucket and dumping it out the window as Rowan drinks her water. She misses the frown on Rowan’s face as the girl nods.

“I’m pretty sure your job doesn't entail holding my hair while I throw up because I got drunk” Athras stays silent as Rowan strips down from the night before. The soiled clothes go in a heap next to her bed and Rowan winces as she pulls on the new clothes.

After Rowan is dressed and her leg is on, Athras pushes a steaming cup into her hand and pushes her outside, citing Cassandra and the Advisors needed to speak with her.

The walk to the Chantry is painful. The cold feels good against her skin, but the snow reflects far too much light for Rowan’s comfort, both blinding her and sending spikes into her brain.

The coffee helps though, warming her hands and helping her concentrate on putting on foot in front of the other.

“You look horrible” A voice piped up from behind her, causing her to jump and wince as it made her head pound. Isana stood there, smiling and looking not at all hungover.

“Gee, thanks” The human girl muttered, squinting at the bright sun and taking a sip of her coffee. “I'm hungover, what's your excuse?”

Isana snorted and takes her arm, placing her hand in the crook of Rowan's arm as they start walking again. “Kitten’s got claws huh? Fair enough. And, regarding a hangover, I find raw eggs, mint, and elfroot to be a good cure for your ails”

“Sounds like it would make you throw up” Rowan muttered as they neared the Chantry, ignoring the bows and curtseys by the sisters. You would think that after last night, they would stop thinking she was holy.

Angels don't get hangovers.

“That's the point, my Lady” Isana snickered as she bowed and left Rowan at the front of the War Room door, taking the empty cup. Rowan stuck her tongue out in response as the dwarf walked away, pushing open the heavy oak door.

As she pushes it open, she is greeted by a blushing Cullen, a bemused Leliana, and a frowning Cassandra following Josephine as she bustles about the room, straightening papers.

“Herald!” Josie blurts and Rowan winces at the volume.

“Can we do quiet today? I may have drank too much” Rowan carefully perches on one of the empty chairs, joining Leliana and Cullen at the table.

“May? Isana said you clung to Cullen like a limpet” Leliana teases as she slides a cup towards Rowan, who takes it without a second thought.

The table watches in horror as Rowan takes a whiff of the liquid, blinks and knock it back. The coughing afterward seals the horror when Leliana informs them of what she gave the younger woman.

“You gave her Agua Magus?” Josephine looks at Rowan as she coughs and waves off their concern.

“I’m fine” She croaks before turning to Leliana. “What is Agua Magus?”

“A type of spirit infused with refined lyrium” Leliana answers blandly as she hands the girl another cup, taken this time with hesitation. “It's just water. Promise”

“Alright, now that we have taken care of Rowan’s hangover-” Cassandra glares minutely at Leliana who stares back impassively. “-We need to discuss our plans for the Hinterlands. Specifically, plans for your safety Rowan,”

“What about my safety? I’m gonna have you, Varric and Solas right?” Rowan's brow crinkled as Cassandra nodded. “Then whats the problem?”

“We cannot always be with you. In a fight, we need to be sure you have protection in case one of us gets injured” or worse “and we have to put together a team of bodyguards for you”

“Bodyguards” Rowan deadpanned. “You mean babysitters”

“Herald” Josephine starts and then pauses. “Rowan. It is for your safety. You have not yet had field training and the chances of you getting hurt because of that is very high. With the bodyguards, they will be able to teach you how to survive, as well as protect you”

That made Rowan sit up a bit straighter. “Teach me? Are you sending Mages with us?” The prospect shouldn't have been so exciting, but with only Solas and Heimarr teaching her, Rowan was curious about how other mages used their magic, especially the Circle mages.

Cullen was the one who nodded this time. “We are. Enchanter Trevelyan will be joining you as an envoy for the Circle and Ser Adaar will be joining you as the healer. You will continue your... lessons with Solas, but this will give you more opportunity for learning”

Rowan considered the two. She knew Trevelyan and hoped he wouldn't be so starstruck after he saw her sleep deprived and sore while they traveled (her camping experiences were not the nicest), but she was more curious about Adaar. A healer? Like the ones in the white tent?

“Can I meet Adaar first? I haven't met them yet” Cullen nodded as her request.

“We assumed that would be the case. He is normally in the healer's tent and sleeps in the same area. He is a very quiet Qunari, but he seems to be friendly”

“Qunari? Whats that?”

The table stared at her for a moment.

“You don't have Qunari?” Josephine asked, shocked. Rowan shook her head lightly.

“Not really? Our Elves and Dwarves are only legends. If they exist, no ones seen them in centuries” Rowan looked at the map in front of her, spread carefully over the table. “Maybe we should have a geography lesson before I leave?”

Josephine nodded faintly. “Perhaps that is a good idea.”

And with that, Rowan's day went from headache to headache as each of her companions began to talk over one another.

Chapter Text

The next few hours were interesting, to say the least. Not only was Nevarra known for Dragons, but also Necromancy (Rowan pondered undead dragons for longer than she cares to admit). Antiva for ships and assassins, Orlais for finery, religion and racism and Ferelden for dogs and sensibility.

None of her companions could tell her much about Tevinter, the Free Marches and The Qun, other than standard facts. Tevinter was full of slaves and mages, Free Marches full of rebellions and dark alleys (she wondered if she could ever meet Anders and Hawke. They seemed interesting) and the Qun was full of massive grey skinned warriors who liked to conquer.

Overall, it shed light on a few key problems that she would have to deal with before she got settled into this world.

“What about the normal people?” Rowan interrupted Josephine during her long-winded explanation of the Game.

“What do you mean ‘normal people’?” Cassandra looked up from where she was sharpening her sword. She had stopped really paying attention to Josephine when she started on about the game.

“The non-nobles. The slaves and the peasants. What about their lives?” Rowan looked carefully at the map. “If I'm going to stay, I need to know how to act. You can't tell a world full of people I’m a noble from a country no one has heard of” She explained carefully, memorizing the map.

“You have a point” Leliana wondered, following her train of thought. “You act too much like a commoner and we cannot trust someone to keep it secret if we pose her as the daughter of a noble.”

Josephine sat carefully back in her seat. “What about a merchant's daughter? She has enough manners, and her clothes are fine enough” Rowan shook her head.

“Unless you want to put me up as a jewelers daughter, that not gonna work. My dad was a jewelry maker and my mother was an artist. And, even if you did that, I would still need connections to nobles”

Cullen sighed. “We are asking the wrong questions. Her parents are easy to write off, I hate to say” Cullen paused to reassure Rowan, who nodded. “But what about her skills? Did you work before you came here?”

“I did. I was a trainer at an animal shelter. My specialty was service dogs and K-9 units” Rowan was surprised to hear Leliana laugh quietly.

“A very Ferelden job” Cullen smiled at her and Cassandra nodded.

“Then we set her up as a kennel masters apprentice. Perhaps Master Edgar can vouch for her?” Josephine suggested.

“Master Edgar?”

A nod from Cullen. “Our kennel master. He trains the mabari in Haven. We only have a few adult, but one of the bitches just whelped a litter. He could use an assistant”

“Sounds fair. Now, for the rest of the problems.” Rowan stood and used the little markers on the corners of the map to arrange them. “If I have a party of eight people, how are we gonna be inconspicuous? Can we split the party somehow, have two groups of four?”

Cassandra sat forwards. “What do you suggest?”

“Decoys” Rowan grabbed her marker (a tiny green triangle) and put it aside, surrounded by a trio of the little post markers. “When we have to close rifts, I stay with Cassandra, Solas, and Varric. But when there is a larger amount of fighting-” she moved the marker to the second group and replaced it with one from there “-then one of the others join you for fighting. It prevents us from worrying about putting me in danger before I’m ready, and ensures we have parties with equal strengths, depending on the situation.”

Cassandra and Cullen looked at her little groups, and the triangle in the middle. “That's... not that bad of a strategy actually” Cullen smiled at Rowan. “Well thought out”

“It would certainly solve the stealth problem” Leliana mused. “And Rowan can learn as she goes with each party, allowing for her to adjust with different skill sets.”

“What will you do when you are not closing rifts?” Josephine pointed out. “You cannot expect to stay in camp while others fight” Rowan shook her head.

“I was thinking we could help in the Crossroads. Surely there must be odd-jobs that non-fighters can't do? And we could boost morale at the same, showing we are willing to help”

The advisors nodded and after another hour of figuring out logistics, they dismissed the council.

Cullen and Cassandra stayed in the war room, discussing tactics while Josephine went back to her office, wondering how she would spin Rowan’s new ‘occupation’. Rowan, however, quietly followed Leliana out of the Chantry, shadowing the Spymaster to her tent.

“Leliana? Can I ask you something?” Rowan started, unsure.

The Spymaster looked up from the sheaf of papers she had been handed on the way to her tent. “Of course”

Rowan took a deep breath, clearly nervous. “Will you teach me how to fight?”

Leliana looked taken aback, but Rowan continued on. “I know that Solas is teaching me magic and that Cullen and Cassandra are the warriors, but in situations like this, I might not have a weapon, or I might be unable to use my magic. If that happens-”

“Then someone will come for you” Leliana interrupted, seeing where Rowan was going with her speech.

“And if they can't?”

“Then you wait. Or you find a weapon and disable them.” Leliana sighed. “Have you killed before Rowan?” A shake of her head. “Then I pray to the Maker you never have to. You are asking me how to train you not how to wound or get away, but how to kill.” The Spymaster put her hands on Rowan’s shoulders, her eyes surprisingly warm. “I have done many things I should not be proud of because of the training and life I lived. I will not subject you to the same things.”

“But-”

“No Rowan” Leliana’s grip tightened to near painful on Rowan’s shoulders. “I want to keep you away from the dark as much as I can. Please don't ask me again”

Rowan watched as Leliana dismissed her by turning away, hooded head bent towards the reports on her ‘desk’.

The younger girl sighed and began her journey back to her cabin, mind focused on one thing.

Leliana may be focused on keeping her from killing, but Rowan knew that with the war going on, she would be subjected to it sooner than later.

She only hoped she would be ready for when the time came.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed quicker than Rowan anticipated. Solas didn't bring up their limited interaction in the fade during their lessons, and Harritt was more than happy to let her hang around the forges, provided she helped out. By the time came to leave for the Hinterlands, Rowan was more than ready to leave, with a few minor details.

She still hadn't met Adaar yet.

She had brought up the subject will Cullen, but every time she tried to convince him to help her, he got pulled away by either Jim or another scout. Rowan had plenty of patience, but it had run out and she was ready to march on the healer’s tent.

So that's what she did.

Dressed in her plainest clothes and wearing gloves, she walked quietly over to the healer's tent. It was mostly empty thankfully, with most of the people in cots baring minor wounds. It also helped her find Adaar.

Talan Adaar was short for a Qunari, a mere 6’8 compared to most. His horns were more like an antelope, jutting from his forehead and going straight up and back. Even with the light scarring on his hands and the burn scar on his face, he was rather pretty and when he looked at her, his eyes were kind.

“Can I help you, scout?” He smiled, showing sharpened teeth. He noticed her hesitation and closed his mouth, trying to make himself smaller.

“Perhaps Healer Adaar. I am part of the party assisting the Herald in the Hinterlands. I wanted to introduce myself, seeing as we are going to spending quite a bit of time together” Rowan gave him one of her best smiles and an extended hand.

His eyes widened. “Ah! I'm surprised, I thought there were only going to be a few of us” He shook her hand with a gentle grip and she squeezed it harder, showing she wasn't fragile. His grip strengthened and she felt a flicker of magic beneath his skin. Fresh banana bread and honey.

She let her own pulse release, the smell of caramelized strawberries and ozone permeating the air. “I was recently put on the team. Commander Cullen thought it might be useful to have another mage around the Herald’s age in the party”

Talan snorted as he let her go, walking back to where he was grinding herbs. “I'm barely a year older than her. Still, we don't have enough mages in Haven.” He motioned for her to take a seat and she perched carefully on one of the tables. He hid a smile by biting his lip as she wiggled in place.

“Have you met her?” Rowan hedged, starting the real reason for her trip. If she was going to travel with Talan, she wanted to make sure there was no hidden animosity towards the Herald.

Allies can be as dangerous as enemies in the wrong situation.

Talan shook his head, scraping the herbs out of the bowl. “I have not. I admit I am curious about her though. One hears many rumors when tending to the injured” Rowan perked up. Rumors? Oh, this she had to know.

“What kind of rumors?” Rowan hedged, cocking her head. Talan raised a brow at her.

“The standard kind. Some say that she is Andraste’s chosen, a holy figure to be worshipped. Others say she is an apostate mage bent on destroying the Chantry. Either way, it doesn't matter”

“Oh?”

Talan added a blue-ish liquid to the bowl. “I do not judge without meeting the person first. A hold-over from being the Healer in a group of Tal-Vashoth mercs. Now, Your Worship, is there any more questions you want to ask me?”

Rowan burst out laughing, surprising Talan. “Oh, I’m gonna like you. What gave it away?”

“Your magic. I felt it when you were brought in after sealing the first Rift. More injured mages don't keep hold of their magic well, and with you being nearly dead when you were brought in, well. Natural conclusion.” He smirked lightly and handed her the newly bottled concoction. “Here. My scars ache with all this cold, and I think you might need this.”

Rowan took the bottle with careful hands and put it in the small compartment on her hip. It clinked gently against the lyrium vials and nestled carefully in the druffalo hide lining. “Thank you, Talan. And by the way, I have one more request for you”

“Oh?” He leaned against one the poles in the tent, staring unblinkingly at her.

“For one, call me Rowan” She prowled forwards and stopped not a few from the Vashoth. “Secondly, don't hide from me. Your magic may be soft and sweet, and you may be a healer, but you don't live with fighters unless you know how to fight yourself.”

Talan gave a humorless chuckle. “Most people see a Qunari and think we’re monsters. They don't bother looking past the horns, so I make myself as unassuming as I can. How about I make you a deal? No hiding, from either of us. Agreed?”

“Agreed. Now, hows about you teach me some field work? No telling what could happen while we’re in the Hinterlands,”

Talan bobbed his head to each side. “Sounds fair. Let’s start with the minor things first”

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, Talan directing Rowan with practiced hands. He was delighted to see that she learned quickly and that her hands rarely shook. Her bandaging could use work, too loose in some areas, too tight in others, but she was eager to learn and watched his hands with laser focus.

By the time the sun had set, Rowan and he had devolved into making poultices and preparing emergency kits for their camp. Their talking had gone from general topics to stories from their lives before the Breach.

Rowan was in the middle of winding bandages and telling Talan about the time she hid fake spiders in her friend's drum case when an elven scout burst in with a soldier supporting her.

Talan took one look at the injured scout and went from friend to teacher in the blink of an eye. “Rowan, get the boiled shears from the pot and the sewing needles” Nodding, she grabbed the supplies, along with a bottle of alcohol from the high shelf and went back to where Talan was helping the scout onto a cot.

“What happened?” He ordered, taking the shears from Rowan. He cut through the elves shirt as the soldier began to explain.

“It was that Henrik. Lieutenant Argus assigned him to train with Al, and he...”

“He broke my ribs Ser” ‘Al’ said, wincing as Talan prodded the already forming bruise. “Henrik is a brute, but normally he pulls his hits for training. I guess being a knife-ear negates that”

“Al, I’m sure he didn't mean it” The soldier hedged, brow furrowed. Rowan huffed.

“On the contrary soldier. He has a habit of using race against people” Rowan said, handing the bottle to Al. “Drink it in sips scout”

“Definitely broken, but no internal bleeding thankfully” Talan finally stated, grabbing the bandages. “Rowan, come here. I'm gonna teach you how to wrap ribs”

“Wait, Rowan? The Herald?” The soldier stuttered and looked panicked. Rowan gave him a nonplussed look.

“At the moment, I am a healers apprentice who is helping your friend. Now, be quiet soldier” She watched as Talan helped Al into a sitting position and walked her through how to properly wrap ribs, including how to keep an even tension.

Once the scout was properly bandaged, and fitted with a new, clean shirt, Al and the soldier left, both of them muttering about Rowan.

Talan gave a sigh. “This isn't the first time this has happened” He picked up the bandages as Rowan watched, dropping them in a small pot for boiling. “Henrik is a common name in this tent. But most try to use the ‘I fell’ excuse unless someone else brings them in. I wish the Commander would do something”

“You think he hasn't?” Rowan’s eyes narrowed, thinking.

“Why else would Henrik still be training with elves? If Alhannon had been even a little weaker, she would have been bleeding internally” He sighed as he sat heavily in a chair, massaging his burn scar. “If she had been a new trainee, he would have made it so she couldn't fight at all”

Rowan was silent for a long time before she nodded. “Then if Cullen isn't going to do anything, I will”

Talan’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! Are you insane? He would break you in a second!” He stood, hands clenching around nothing.

“Then I make it so he can't touch me. But one way or another, Henrik is going down” Rowan growled and he felt her magic change. One second it was soft, sweet ozone and the next it was something scorched and bitter.

Then, in a snap, it was gone and Rowan was rolling her shoulders. Her eyes flickered to him and softened. “He won't hurt anyone else Talan”

It wasnt until she was out of the tent that he identified the smell.

She smelled like lightning striking a rose.

He was out of the tent before he could think about it, chasing after the smaller mage.

Chapter Text

Talan is easy to dodge. He is only slightly slower than her, but Rowan is adept at hiding, be it from friend or foe. She watches as he rushes past her alcove and then creeps out, headed to her cabin.

For once, she is glad for her small stature as she slips in the window to her cabin. Her leg is the tricky part, but luckily the knee mechanism lets her roll into the cabin with ease.

Part of her is afraid as she puts on her armor. Henrik is bigger than her, stronger than her, and is likely more adept at fighting. But as she finally slides on her helmet, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

The Rowan staring back is unrecognizable. Her hair is tied back, showcasing soft, vibrant eyes set in a pale, youthful face. But, there is nothing soft about the set of armor she wears, nothing youthful about the whip and net she carries like a gladiator.

As she walks out, she wonders if Nemesis felt like this when she dealt her first justice.

No one stops her as she leaves the walls of Haven, for all the looks she gets. Even the merchant's eyes linger but flicker away as they meet.

She wonders what they see.

The field is swarming with soldiers and scouts, each training in one way or another. Some are running laps, others sparring with both wooden and metal weapons. Even Cullen and Cassandra are sparring together. A part of her wants to join them, press a kiss to Cullen’s cheek and ask sweetly for him to get rid of Henrik. For her to plead with Cassandra for the vermin to be cast away from Haven, cast away from her tiny growing Eden.

But when she sees Henrik, laughing with barely a scratch on him, surrounded by soldiers, her mind sharpens as her vision fills with red.

“Soldier Henrik!” Her voice echoes in her helmet, and the man jumps as it rings out as she approaches. The smarmy smile on his face makes her skin crawl as he turns to her.

“Ah! Look a new recruit. Come to test your mettle?” He turns fully to her, and Rowan blinks. He doesn't recognize her.

She can work with this.

“No, I have not.” Her sentence barely finishes as her arm whips out, slapping him across the face with her glove. “I have come to challenge you, to defend the honor of one of my friends. Do you accept?”

Henrik and his friends blink dumbly at her as Henrik's cheek turns red. He touches the mark on his cheek faintly and then narrows his eyes at her.

“Now, recruit. I'm gonna give you a chance here. Take back that challenge, and I’ll let it go. Maybe I won't even remember you” His smile grows bigger as people begin to take notice of the smaller figure.

“Fight me.” Rowan snarls and steps closer until she is nearly chest to chest with the man. “Or are you scared to be beaten by a green recruit?” Henrik’s eyes narrow as his grin goes away.

“Kid, you don't know what you're dealing with” A soldier pipes up from the side, only to have Henrik smack him.

“No, let the kid get broken. What're your terms recruit?”

“You and me, on the ice. We get our own weapons, and armor. Loser leaves Haven” Rowan hesitates and then catches the eye of Talan on the edge of the field, looking around for her. “Forever”

Henrik smiles again. “Deal” His hand dwarfs hers as they shake. The soldier who warned her gives Rowan a fearful look and shakes his head.

The fight, however, turns out to be a much bigger deal than expected. Without warning, Henrik raises his voice to be heard above the din.

“Hey! This recruit thinks that they can take me in a fight!” He shouts and Rowan’s eyes widen as half the field turns to look at them. “Kid even made a bet: Loser leaves Haven! Who wants in?”

A rumbling murmur rolls through the crowd and Rowan watches as even Cassandra and Cullen stop their sparring to look at the two of them.

Every part of Rowan wants to run in the moment that Henrik leads her to the ice, as people shout bets and she sees Talan realize that it's her beneath the armor.

Money exchanges hands as the crowd forms and Henrik takes the war hammer that his friends hand him. The head of it is the size of hers and Rowan can feel herself shaking as he takes a few practice swings.

But then her mind clears. She remembers an old story of David and Goliath from her mother. There is no god on her side that she knows of, no deity to give her strength.

Despite that, she whispers a dedication to Nemesis as she undoes the whip at her side.

The taunts from the sidelines are dulled to a murmur as Rowan focuses. Henrik and her circle each other as Talan reaches Cullen and Cassandra to tell them what is going on. Henrik swings as Cassandra gasps as the news and Rowans whip catches his cheek.

Blood trickles on the ground as Cullen sends a scout to retrieve the injured scout and Rowan's advisors. Henrik catches Rowan’s shoulder as she moves back Cassandra watches in horror as the crowd cheers while Rowan cradles her arm.

The whip lashes out again and Henrik catches it, only to have a net thrown in his face as Rowan’s remaining soulmates arrive. The net blinds him as Rowan rushes forwards and tackles him. They wrestle on the ground, the crowd growing louder as Rowan’s helmet is thrown away, revealing her vibrant hair and familiar face.

“So it's you” Henrik snarls, face red. “I'm gonna enjoy ruining you” His face leans forwards as his breath cots her face. “Maybe I won't make you leave Haven after all. I could use a pretty thing like you as a bed warmer”

“Fuck you” Rowan snarls and two things happen at once. In a blink, her head snaps forwards and her teeth sink into the flesh of his cheek the same time as her metal leg slams into his crotch.

The result is Henrik rearing back in pain, not realizing the grip of her jaw. The crowd quiets as they watch Henrik reel back, missing a chunk of his cheek and screaming. Blinded by pain, he swings out with a fist, catching Rowan’s temple.

Dazed, she doesn't notice the man pull a dagger from his belt, a wild look in his eyes. He slashes at her, catching the leather under her chest plate as she tries to get back, hindered by her metal leg.

Dimly, Rowan can hear Leliana shouting for Varric to shoot the man above her as he stabs at her face. Her smaller hands catch his wrist as it swings down and his brute strength threatens to overwhelm her when Varric finally gets his crossbow.

He doesn't get to take the shot.

In a split second, a barrier snaps into place around the fighters as the ice breaks beneath them.

The crowd becomes silent as the orb goes beneath the ice, disappearing into the water. There is no noise other than a shaky sob from Josephine as the seconds' tick by.

Then, a single hand shoots out of the water, followed by a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair.

They watch as Rowan scrabbles out of the hole, gasping for air. Shaking away the water, she turns and drags up an unconscious Henrik behind her, pulling him out with a grunt until he is mostly on the ice, no longer in danger of sliding into the hypothermic water.

Hands on her shoulders make her scream and lash out, only for Cullens face to fill her vision. “Rowan! Easy, it's just me” He watches as she pants and shakes in his arms.

“I won” She blurts and his eyes soften. “I won”

“Yes, Rowan. You won” He accepts the blanket from one of the soldiers as they arrive on the ice. Rowan is swept into his arms as Henrik is dragged onto a cloth stretcher by a pair of grim-faced scouts. “Get him a healer and put him in the dungeons” He orders, and the scouts nod.

“Yes Commander”

“Is she alright?” A soft voice mutters from his left and Cullen turns to see Josephine and the rest of Rowan’s circle, watching the limp body in his arms.

He hesitates before Rowan's quiet voice breaks the tension.

“I'm really cold. Can we do this somewhere warm?” He looks down at her wide-eyed and shaking form and nods.

“Oh, we are going to have a conversation about this” Cassandra promises as they all head to Rowan's cabin. “A very long conversation”

Rowan’s next shiver has nothing to do with the cold.

Chapter Text

For all the loudness caused by the scouts and soldiers around them, the walk back to Rowans cabin was quiet. Occasionally, Cassandra or Leliana would look over to her with a storm in their eyes, or Josephine with concern. Solas and Varric never looked at her once, both men’s expressions too hard to read.

Cullen just held her close, the metal of his breastplate fogging with her breath.

Once they got to her cabin, Cullen handed her off to an elven woman Rowan vaguely remembered from when she first woke up. The woman stripped her with practiced hands and bundled her up in her bed with a cup of something warm without saying a word.

“Excuse me, I didn't catch your name” Rowan hedged, feeling uneasy by the silence of the other woman, only to have her jump.

The elf’s eyes flickered to the door and she whispered “I'm not allowed to talk to you Your Worship. Sister Leliana is very cross right now” She helped Rowan take off her leg with gentle hands and placed it next to her bed. “But, if Your Worship wishes, my name is Grace.”

Rowan gave a (hopefully) gentle smile to the girl as she began to walk away. “Thank you Grace”. The lithe elf gave a curtsy before she opened the door, allowing Rowan’s soulmates into the room. The only one to give notice to the girl was Varric, who nodded to her in thanks as he shut the door behind him.

Rowan internally sighed. It was better to get this over with now, rather than later. “So, I know-”

“What were you thinking!?” Varric burst out in an uncharacteristic display on anger. Rowan flinched and blinked at the normally jovial author. His amber eyes were full of fire and Rowan hunched quietly into her mug. “I told you to think! To actually have a plan before you went after him. And you did that? He would have been well within his rights to kill you, or, even if he had only won, you bet your place in Haven!” Varric huffed as he slid a hand over his face. “Please explain how exactly you thought that was a good idea?”

“Um-”

“Wait, you knew about this?” Leliana interrupted, looking at the dwarf. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“He-”

“Because I thought she would be smarter than this” Varric gave Leliana a look. “Aren't you the only assigning her bodyguards? Shouldn't they have stopped her?”

“Guys-”

“The one at fault here is clearly Cullen’s soldiers” Leliana defended. “Henrik was one of his and should have been weeded out at the start”

“Excuse me?” Cullen stepped up from leaning against the wall. “Who was the one who suggested releasing him to see if he slipped up again?”

“What? You-”

“For good reason Cullen” Cassandra butted in. “Rowan fought back and if he went after someone else we could have a case against him”

“Enough!” Rowan screamed, throwing down her cup, startling her arguing soulmates. “There is only one person at fault here and it is me. Varric is right. I should have planned better but” Rowan swallowed a lump in her throat and pressed her shaking hands into her bed. “I cannot side idle while people get hurt when I can fix the problem. I will not.”

She nearly flinched as a hand slowly covered hers and her head was tipped up. Solas’ eyes searched hers as she shook and he gave her one of his half-smiles.

“We are not asking you to do so. What we are asking is that you tell us before you do so” His hand drifted from her chin to cradling her hands. “Can you do that?”

“Yes Solas” Rowan whispered quietly, cowed by the lack of anger in his voice.

She heard a soft sigh from one of the others and felt someone sit gingerly on the edge of her bed. “Please be more careful Rowan” Josie said, pulling her closer without taking her away from Solas. “I would be heartbroken if I lost you”

“As would we” Leliana motioned to herself and the two warriors, who nodded in agreement.

Varric grumbled from where he was lighting her cabin’s tiny fireplace. “What good is a writer without a muse?” He grabbed Vanyel from his bed as he passed it, and placed the chittering nug in Rowan’s lap. “Just, next time? Let me shoot the bastard”

Rowan giggled as Vanyel squeeked at her. “Yes Varric”

Quietly, Josephine led the others of her soulmates out her room, after securing Rowan’s promise that they would talk more in the morning when Rowan wasnt so tired. The last to leave was Leliana, who gently pressed her forehead to Rowans.

“Please Rowan” Leliana whispered. “Please, let us keep you safe, if only for a little while longer”

Rowan sighed and pressed the oncoming tears back. “I can't promise that” she said shakily. “I can't”

“Then, at the very least, let us help” Leliana sat back a bit and made Rowan look her in the eyes. “Even if it means that someone will get hurt”

“And if it's you who gets hurt?”

“Then it's a price I am willing to pay” Leliana said with conviction, stroking Rowan’s hair and tucking it behind her ear.

Rowan gently held Leliana’s wrist as it passed and stared back at Leliana with a storm in her eyes. “It goes both ways Leliana” A kiss, gentle as a summer breeze was pressed to the Nightingales wrist as Rowan let her go, slipping silently under her blankets. Leliana suppressed a smile as she left the girl to her rest, feeling warmth spread across her ankle.

Chapter Text

Rowan was still unused to the barrenness of her new Fade space. Solas had done a good job with the stonework, but even pretty patterns couldn't erase the gray.

So, Rowan got to work changing that. The catnip scattered across the border spread between the cracks in the stone and became vines as it went up the walls. The stone underneath her feet didn't like change and melted back into cobbles within seconds of dragging it up to become something else. So, Rowan made new things instead.

Her hands trailed open air as it turned full, a cream and red fainting couch appearing under her fingers. She craved company as an ash wood table coalesced, surrounded by mismatched chairs in a rainbow of colors. Rowan watched as a rug, made of bone colored velvet and edged in crimson, rolled out, leading from the locked stone door to the marble dancing floor forming in the center of her space.

It was easier than expected to make a radio, hooked up to a neverending vinyl player. A shelf full of music, colored by mood, build itself from ash wood and cold iron nails. The first disk already sat ready, the needle in the track ready to play.

With a smile, Rowan let the disk play and began to dance.

Soft bass filled the air as she moved, Halsey’s voice ricocheting around the walls around her. She ignored the eyes peering in through the windows, multi-colored and multiplied in the strange faces the spirits wore. She ignored the russet shape uncurling from their nest in the catnip and the golden figure pushing open the door to her hideaway.

It wasn't until soft hands gripped her hips as she went through a leap that she spoke.

“You’re very brave, aren't you?” Rowan looked over her shoulder as she spun in their hands. A crooked smile flickered across her companions face as they danced, both dressed in simple practice clothes.

“Perhaps I am” Their voice was deeper than Pragma’s or Eros’, more akin to Solas’ in tone. “But, how could I leave a pretty girl to dance on her own?” They led her into the fourth position and tilted her face up. Their six eyes blinked down at her, fangs flashing. “Should I have asked?”

“Perhaps” Rowan echoed, taking in their appearance. “It might be better if I knew your name?”

Her companion chuckled as they broke away to bow to her. “Of course. I am Philautia, brother to Eros and Pragma” He stood to his full height, dark eyes boring into hers. “You, however, can call me Phil, if it pleases you”

Rowan crooked as brow. “I thought Spirits didn't have a gender” She circled him as the song changed, Hozier’s duskier tones making an appearance.

“We can, but most choose not to” Philautia circled back and his clothes changed into a black suit, decorated silver piping to offset the lavender of his skin. “I find most of those who love themselves are men. Like begets like.”

Rowan matched his black with pale bone silk, the fabric swirling around her knees. “Fair enough” She conceded. “But tell me, Phil, can you do the pas de deux?”

Phil’s eyes narrowed and his grin grew bigger. “I can certainly try.”

Without missing a beat, Philautia swept her into a variation of the Knave of Hearts pas de deux.

Hozier's voice petered out, leading in a chorus of violins as they danced, Philautia barely taking his hands off of her. Dips, jetes, and lifts passed by in a blur, Rowan too preoccupied to think about the movements. Philautia hands were warm against her waist, tender against the flesh of her thighs as he lifted her. Even when she was sideways in his arms, he didn't drop her or miss a step, either from taking the moves from her mind or by the Fade giving him grace.

When the dance finally ended, Rowan was cradled gently in his arms, feeling peaceful and at ease. “You make a good Knave” She whispered as he let her go, silk turning back into plain cotton.

“And you a good Alice.” His head raised and he looked at the door with a sad smile. “It seems we have an audience”

Rowan blinked and followed his line of sight, pausing when she saw who stood there.

Framed by delicate ivy and tiny pink rosebuds, Pragma and Eros stood in the doorway of her space, both quiet and still.  Eros’ golden silk and collar were missing, replaced by soft white cotton and their eyes flew to the ground as she turned fully to them, plush lips pressed together in a line. Pragma, however, looked as they had before. Tall, graceful and powerful. The only difference was the sadness in their eyes, making the cornflower blue darker.

“Rowan-” Pragma started only, to be interrupted by the little mage flying into her arms and holding her tight.

“I missed you” Rowan murmured into their clothes, hands tightly gripping their tunic. Her head raised from Pragma’s chest and she moved to Eros, who flinched at her touch against their cheek. “Look at me Eros” She ordered softly and the Desire demon’s eyes met hers, amber to green.

“I am sorry,” Eros said, soft as a rose petal. “I just wanted to know you, like Pragma did. You were so vibrant, so-” Eros broke off as their unneeded breathe stuttered. “I just wanted to be someone.”

“I'm sorry too.” Rowan brushed Eros’ hair behind a curling horn, seeing the tiny burn on their ear. “I let my anger get the best of me” She and Pragma shared a look, and Pragma give her a tiny smile. “How’s about we start over okay? Pragma just introduced us, you didn't try to possess me and I didn't set you on fire. Sound good?”

Eros gave a little chuckle. “Sounds perfect” They agreed and Rowan gave them a gentle smile.

“Now that the awkwardness is gone, how about we eat dinner before I wake up. I'm feeling like pancakes”

“With strawberries?” Philautia joined the group as Rowan led Eros by the hand to the table.

“Well, yeah. What else would you put on pancakes?”

“Cream?” Pragma said, sitting themselves to Rowan’s right as Philautia took her left.

“Blueberries?” Eros said, sitting on Pragma’s right.

Rowan snorted as pancakes dripping with all three appeared on their plate. “How about all of the above?”

The group shared a laugh as Rowan dug in, each joining in soon afterward.

The Fade sang quietly in joy as Curiosity watched from the sidelines, lounging the catnip Rowan had grown for them.

Chapter Text

Rowan wakes up slowly, in an already warm room and with someone puttering around. Her immediate thought is that she’s late for something, and in accordance, she bolts upright, making both the person and Vanyel squeal in surprise.

Only for her to see that not only is the sky outside still dark but that the person standing before her is not Athras.

“Shit, sorry Grace, I didn't mean to startle you,” Rowan says, before yawning so hard her jaw cracks. “What are you doing here so early? Sun’s not even up yet”

Grace fiddles with her hands as she answers. “Lady Josephine thought you could use a ladies maid Your Worship. I’ve been assigned to you in accordance with her wishes.”

Rowan sighs and runs a hand down her face. Josephine probably had a good reason for the assignment, but Rowan was getting a little tired of the constant watching. Although to be fair, every time she was left alone, she got into trouble.

“I appreciate your assistance Grace. However, I have one request for you” The older woman said, putting on her leg and slinging both over the edge to stand.

“Anything Your Worship” Grace swears, with a fervor Rowan winces at.

Rowan looks at the girl with a strict smile on her face. “While we are alone, or with my bodyguards, you are to call me Rowan or, if you want to be more formal, Ms. Kent will do fine. I would prefer you not call me Your Worship unless absolutely necessary. Understood?”

Grace nods with little hesitation and agrees, before handing Rowan a set of clothes. “You have an appointment with your advisors in an hour before we set out for the Hinterlands before sunrise. Would you prefer breakfast now or on your horse Yo-Ms. Kent?” Grace stumbles the last part, a difference from her smooth delivery of Rowan’s schedule.

Rowan dresses quickly, fastening her belt with a few quick jerks and notices the quick weight loss with a grim fascination. “On my horse, please. I would like to visit Harrit before my meeting for a few changes to my gear before I go. Unless he is still asleep?” She eyes the dark sky as Grace shakes her head.

“No Ms. Kent. Master Harrit is helping the others prepare for your departure and has been awake for a few hours now.” Even Grace winces at the fact and Rowan nods before leaving with not one, but two mugs of coffee in her hands.

Haven is sparse with people, the only ones awake being the Night Guard. A few of them nod to her, even less give her a smile as she passes.

All of them stare, and Rowan holds back a full body twitch.

The blacksmith's is busy for the dark sky, Harritt helping the others with readying a small group of horses and an even smaller cart. He spies her from across the group and makes his way over, taking the coffee from her with a muttered thanks.

“Quite the fiasco we had yesterday” He starts and Rowan snorts.

“No, really?” She says sarcastically into her cup. Harritt raises a brow at her in question. “I may have gotten a small chewing out last night. I'm supposed to have an even bigger one this morning before we leave. Though I’d talk to you and see what was going on with prep before I go get lectured more”

Harritt chuckles outright at that. “I suppose having your advisors be your Mates would do that. The biggest problem is figuring out horses. We don't have near enough, so most are going to have more than one rider. Luckily, we have a cart for you and little Grace, so we don't have to worry about that part.”

Rowan raises a brow at that, putting down her cup. “I'm not going to be riding? Why?”

“Lady Josephine thought you would prefer it. I'm guessing she was wrong?”

“A little. I'm not used to riding for long periods of time, but I would prefer not to be pampered when I'm basically going to a war zone. Is there a horse that hasn't been doubled yet?”

Harritt smiles at her and Rowan narrows her eyes at his look. “I figured you would say that. I had one of my men ready someone for you. Want to meet him?”

Rowan nods excitedly and follows the ginger blacksmith over to the Inquisition’s meager stable. Inside, with his braces and tack already on, is-

“Is that a hart?” Rowan breathes, stepping closer slowly.

“He came with a few Dalish when they arrived and Scout Athras says he wasn't with her group, so he’s free game. Do you want him?”

Rowan nods as the Hart leans closer to her, sniffing the hand she held out before letting her pet him. “I do. Does he have a name?”

“Not yet” Harritt hands her an apple as he leaves, letting Hart and Herald get acquainted. He walks out to the sounds of soft munching and her cooing over the hart, whispering sweet words to him.

A candlemark later, he sees Rowan leave the stall with a smile and head to the Chantry as the sky begins to lighten.

Rowan’ steps are quick as she walks to the War Room, only slowed by the stairs scattered throughout Haven. When she finally arrives and opens the door, she is slightly out of breath and smiling as she enters.

Cullen, Leliana, and Cassandra are as alert as one can be at ass o’clock in the morning, with Cullen looking the most tired of the three. Meanwhile, Josephine is blinking tiredly at the map in front of her, holding a steaming cup of tea. Rowan hides a smile when Josephine just blinks at her before returning to stare at the map.

“Good morning Rowan” Leliana greets her with a smile. “I hope you are ready for today's journey”

The younger woman nods as she seats herself, the others following suit. “As ready as I can be I guess. I spoke with Harritt and he equipped me with a steed to ride, so Grace and Talan can take the cart if they wish” Josephine looked up at that, surprised at her statement.

“Did you not like the cart? It's simple, but should be to your comforts” Josephine looks disappointed for a moment and Rowan hurries to reassure her.

“I like the cart fine Josie. I would just prefer to ride instead. It has been a while since I did, and I missed it” Rowan not-quite lies. It's not all of her reasoning, but she knows they would just protest that they are coddling her. Leliana catches her eye and raises a brow knowingly, but Rowan ignores her as Josephine points a sunny smile at her.

“Now, to get to more crucial matters” Cullen slides in, shuffling a small pile of papers. “Your journey will be approximately four days, give or take, depending on rest times. We do not have enough horses to spare for all to have a horse to themselves, which you probably know as you spoke to Harritt earlier” Rowan nods and Cullen continues as Josephine hands her a cup of sweet smelling tea.

“As for what is to be accomplished while in the Hinterlands, it is mostly circumstantial. You will be required to meet with the Revered Mother, but as for smaller things, you may delegate the tasks”

“The most important thing is that you be seen” Leliana joins in, taking up the lead. “The people must realize that the Inquisition is a force for aid, and not one that would take advantage of the situation. Do what you can while you are there, but be careful. There is not only demons to deal with, but reports from my scouts have come back telling about bandits and highwaymen.”

“I do not want a repeat of what happened yesterday” Cassandra intervenes, looking straight at Rowan, who winces. “You are not to go alone, under any circumstances. If you leave camp, you are to have an escort, who is armed, and they must be within seeing distance at all times. Am I understood?” Cassandra stares down Rowan, who nods quietly. “I do not mean to stifle your freedom, but there are things at risk here that even you being hurt can jeopardize”

“What Cassandra is saying” Josephine intervenes, seeing the clenching of Rowan’s jaw “Is that as your advisors, we ask you to err on the side of caution when traveling”

“And as my soulmates?” Rowan asks quietly, as if afraid of the answer.

“As your soulmates” Cullen starts, before pausing and looking at Leliana, who rolls her eyes.

“We are invested in your safety, either way, Rowan,” The spymaster says, touching Rowan’s hand lightly. “But in times like this, we must sometimes sacrifice happiness for safety”

Rowan sighed and turned her hand absentmindedly, squeezing Leliana’s hand before standing. “Then I suppose we are done here?”

The others nodded and stood as well, Cassandra following the younger woman. Leliana pinched the bridge of her nose as she leaned back in her chair, Josephine looking at her exasperated.

“'Invested in your safety’? Really Leli? You couldn't have come up with something more reassuring?” The Noble says, shaking her head. Even Cullen chuckles at that.

“You try being reassuring when you send your soulmate off to a war zone” Leliana gripes, going for the spiced wine in the corner of the table.

“I am Leli,” Josephine says, taking the bottle from her. “We all are”

Chapter Text

The first day of their journey to the Hinterlands is lackluster. Grace had handed Rowan her breakfast (a dark roll filled with honey and oats) whilst some of the others yawned, barely awake. Solas and Talan were the worst about it, both of them barely speaking as they mounted their horses. Talan and Isana had been tasked with riding together on a fairly large, roan mare who tossed her head the moment they came near.

Solas, however, had been assigned to ride with Cassandra, something Rowan had to hide her smile at. Neither were particularly chatty and got along well enough for an apostate and a Seeker. Still, it was entertaining to watch Solas ride in front of Cassandra like a princess while Cassandra held the reins.

As she ate her breakfast and mounted the hart she had named Herne, she watched the others pair up. Marcus and Athras rode together on a spirited palomino, Varric and now-healed Al talked quietly on their slow paint. Grace and a few of the older soldiers assigned to their group rode in the cart, Grace the only elf among them.

Rowan had a bad feeling about that and quietly told Grace that if she felt scared, she was to tell her immediately. The relief on the younger woman's face made Rowan’s resolve harden a bit in her chest.

They kept pace fairly easily, even with occasional stops to feed and water their steeds. At one point, Talan and Marcus switched, each of them kissing their former riding partner before going to the next horse. A few pointed questions later revealed that the four of them were another soulmate cluster, with a total of six in their group. They were still waiting on two of them and made no qualms announcing this to Rowan when she asked.

They made camp in a cave a few hours after sunset and Rowan found herself alone once more, tucked in the middle where everyone could see her if she so much as had a nightmare. It was both comforting and stifling, and she told her Fade friends so when she visited them.

Philautia suggested she dress up for them, Eros suggested that she flirt more and Pragma just sighed at their siblings. The cat stayed where it was and Rowan didn't know if she felt relieved or disappointed when Solas never made an appearance, for all the fact that he slept not ten feet from her.

It was the second day when shit hit the fan.

During breakfast, one of the vets made a comment about elf girls only being good for one thing and Rowan nearly snapped the quill she had been given to keep her journal. Grace rode with Rowan, despite the girl’s protests that she knew the men wouldn't hurt her.

Rowan wasn't too keen on keeping her with them though, and she told the younger as much as she helped her onto Herne.

Then soon after the sun rose, bandits attacked.

“Hey, Rowan, toss me that waterskin!” Talan hollered and held up his hand while Rowan rolled her eyes.

“Gimme a sec!” She yelled back, taking a quick swig of it before tossing it over to the Kossith.

Only for it to be pierced mid-air by an arrow and pinned to the ground. She could hear Talan and Isana’s horse rear, making them yell as Talan was bucked off.

“Bandits! Archers at the ready!” Cassandra ordered, unsheathing her sword as Solas sat up straighter. Rowan could see a thin barrier form around them and Cassandra winced slightly at the use of magic. Other barriers formed quickly as the bandits crept out of the forest, armed with their own archers and warriors. The only ones uncovered were Varric and Al, but both of them were armed enough to defend themselves.

Nonetheless, Rowan crept a little closer just in case.

“Now, now, no need for that” A man stepped forwards out of the group, dressed in rather worn armor. “We just want to talk. Don't get many visitors ‘round these parts”

He smiled at them and Rowan’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you normally shoot at your visitors?” Rowan ignored the look everyone gave her as she spoke, the man turning to her.

“Only the pretty ones” He smarmed back, eyeing her and Grace. “Whats your name pretty?”

Rowan raised a brow. “I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours”

The bandit chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough pretty. Names Tab. Leader of this little band of miscreants.”

“Rowan, no titles. May we pass Tab?”

Tab tsked lightly. “Unfortunately not little tree. There's a tax ‘round these parts and not even sweet girls like you are exempt from it”

“Not even if we offer a gift in exchange?” The vet from before hollered and Rowan eyed him, not liking how this might go.

“Oh? And what kind of gift is that?” Tab eyed the man, smile never wavering.

“We got a pretty couple of knife-ears we coul-” The vets head snapped back as an arrow sprouted from his throat. The man choked as Grace gasped and hid her face in Rowan’s tunic, the other vets scrambling to help the man.

“I don't appreciate men like that ya know?” Tab said, waving off the archer loading another arrow into their bow. “My ma was an elf. Nearly got sold to slavers, she did. My wife almost did too, before we killed them” Tab smiled widely at the group and Rowan got an idea.

“Hows about we hire you then?” Rowan suggested, going for the coin purse on her hip. Both Cassandra and Solas gave her a death glare as she undid the ties, and opened it. “I could use a few good men who aren't afraid to stand up for the little people”

Tab raised a brow. “You don't agree with the man then?”

Rowan gave him a slightly manic grin. “Trust me, sir. You saved me a little mana doing that” She wiggled her fingers and saw Tab's eyes widen at the sight of sparks coming from her Marked hand.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re that Herald everyone’s chatting about” He stepped closer, only to have Varric cock his crossbow. “Little protective isn't he?”

“He’s my soulmate. He’s allowed to be” Rowan squeezed Grace's arm as she dismounted, pressing one of her spell-stones into her hand. “Hell, most of this group is. What do you say?” Rowan approached the bandit leader slowly and watched one of the archers follow her with their bow.

Tab eyed her hand, holding the small bag of coin. “Keep your coin, Herald. I’ll getcha where you need to be, under one condition”

“And that is?”

“Close that Maker forsook rift near my camp that keeps killing my men, and you got a deal,” He said, extending one grimy hand. Rowan clasped it with her own unmarked one and grinned.

“Deal. Lead the way Mr. Tab”

“Call me Mikey, little tree. Lilianne Tabris raised her son to be a polite man if nothing else.”

Chapter Text

Lady Rowan had been strange all day, and the appearance of the bandits makes it worse. Her speech was clipped for most of the ride to the camp, and she kept looking at the veterans who rode with them, assigned as bodyguards for the few of them that couldn't fight. Or rather, for Grace and those that they came upon while on the road.

Looking back, Grace sees a glimpse of the body being carted off for burning and the sight of the arrow still in the neck of Wilhelm’s body makes her shudder. Lady Rowan had said she didn't trust the men with her, and after hearing Wilhelm’s words, Grace was happy that her Lady is protective.

It is nice to have a kind Lady for once.

“Grace” her Lady’s words snap Grace out of her thoughts and when she looks up, she realizes that they have reached the bandit camp and the others are dismounting.

“Oh! Apologies my Lady” She blurts and begins to get down on her own, only to have weathered hands help her down when she almost falls.

“Easy girly. Can't have you getting hurt while under my protection”  The bandit, Tab, says and Grace stares at him, wide-eyed. His smile falters when she just stares at him and says nothing. “She normally like this little tree?” He asks aside to Lady Rowan, who opens her mouth to say something when Grace blurts her response.

“You're different than I expected” And then he stares at back at her, silent and wide-eyed back. Grace can see Rowan eyeing them and walking off into the camp while they silently roll up their sleeves, bronzed marks glimmering in the noon sun.

“I'm married darling,” Tab says after a moment. “And I can't just-”

“I won't ask you to” Grace responds, covering his scarred hand with her own. “But can we at least be friends?”

Tab smiles and then they both start as Rowan shouts for her squad to join her. “Come on Tab! We have a rift to close” Rowan shouts at them, already dressed in the rest of her armor with her helmet under her arm.

“Coming little tree!” Tab shouts back and before he leaves, he presses the softest kiss to Grace’s cheek, in the middle of the bandit camp, and runs after her Lady, who raises a brow at Grace from afar.

Grace smiles back warmly and waves her Lady off as they go down into a ravine just past the camp.

The next hour is tense. When picking her squad, Rowan had picked Messere Solas, Seeker Pentaghast, and Master Varric to accompany her, but had also brought Scout Athras along as a backup archer. The scout's soulmates paced, unsure of how the fight was going beyond knowing Athras was alive.

The sounds didn't help either. Loud shouts, unearthly screams, and explosions made Grace flinch as she worked, cleaning tack with others in their group.

The bandits never flinched, and simply kept watch with bows at the ready, pointed towards the ravine.

After all that noise, the sudden silence was surprising and unnerving. Grace fiddled with her hands as Talan made dinner after Isana had hunted some rams in the nearby forest. But soon enough, her fears were soothed by the appearance of Rowan and Tab climbing up the ravine, the fighters behind them dirty and tired, but whole.

She fought the urge to help Tab first as they came within the circle of archers, Rowan taking off her helmet with ichor covered hands.

“Ugh” Her Lady crinkled her nose at the sight of the demon blood on her hands and Grace suppressed a giggle at the look as she placed a clean rag in her hands before taking her helmet.

“Is all well My Lady?” She said as she helped the older woman take off her outer armor.

“As well as it can be I guess. The rift is closed and Cassandra was the only one to sustain an injury other than bruises. But it looks like Talan is healing her up as we speak” She jerked her chin and motioned towards where the Seeker was being tended to by the Qunari mage, wincing as her arm was stitched up where something had cut through the gaps in her armor.

“I am glad My Lady” Grace finally got her greaves off with little effort, piling them with the rest of her armor. She was working on Rowan’s chest plate when the older woman spoke again.

“I noticed Tab kissed you as we left. Was it welcome?” Her Lady’s tone was hard to read and Grace paused as she undid one of the buckles.

“It was, my Lady,” She said carefully. “It is...complicated”

“How complicated Gracie?”

“He is my soulmate Your Worship. But, he is also married to someone in his camp. I will not interfere with their relationship”

To Grace’s surprise, Rowan snorted as the last of her armor came off and she faced her fully. “It seems we have more in common than I thought,” Rowan said sardonically, with a slight twist to her mouth. “Do you wish to stay with him?” She suggests carefully, smile gentler now.

Only for Grace to shake her head, picking up the armor for cleaning. “No My Lady. I am not cut out for banditry. Besides, who would make sure your armor is clean after a battle? You? I think not” Rowan laughed outright at her words and gave her the widest smile Grace had seen on her Lady’s face.

“Fair enough Gracie. Now, whats for dinner?” The two woman walked side-by-side under the eyes of the bandit king, his eyes soft as he watched them.

“Come to bed husband” A voice whispered from his tent, tugging him gently.

“As you wish my wife” He whispered back, crawling into the tent where his wife, huge and horned, lounged in her furs. He kissed her scarred lips as he listened to the sounds of laughter for the first time in weeks in his camp.

All was well, for now. And that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

Rowan is hesitant to sleep.

Solas had been silent throughout the fight and had looked almost bored to outsiders, but Rowan knew enough about the man to know she was going to get an earful from the older mage as soon as she closed her eyes.

Plus, what would he say about her new companions? Spirits were one thing, but what about actual demons? Sure, they were nothing but nice, and only Eros had actually tried to possess her...

Rowan sighed as she wiped a hand down her face, staring at the top of her tent. It was probably better to just get it over with.

And so, she snuggled deeper into her blanket roll and rolled onto her side until barely the top of her head was outside the warmth and slept .

Falling into the Fade was never something Rowan was going to get used to. One moment she was a person-burrito, the next she was standing on a cobblestone floor while Solas glared at her.

“What were you thinking,” He said, scarily calm. “A bandit camp? As allies?” His voice never grew louder, but Rowan flinched like he had shouted.

“I was trying to keep us alive Solas” She defended, walking around him to perch on the edge of her couch. “It was either pay the toll, refuse and get shot or bargain. I chose bargain, and it worked. So don't yell at me because I made a choice.”

“A choice that did not need to be made” The air around Solas’ form fluctuated and Rowan gritted her teeth. “Seeker Pentaghast and I could have negotiated our trail without causing more trouble. All you did was-”

“What Solas?” Rowan barked, surprising the man. “Save lives? They had a Rift! And people were dying because of it! What good am I if I can't close them!”

“They would have died anyway!” He snarled back. “They are grown men and women, they do not need a child like you to save them!”

Solas immediately regretted his words. For an instant, all he could feel from Rowan was pain and deep sorrow. Then, in an instant, a cold kind of rage followed as she looked him in the eye.

“Leave” she whispered, and he opened his mouth to respond. “I said, LEAVE” her voice thundered through the cage he had made, echoing through the Fade.

With a sigh, he did as he was asked, and disappeared without another word.

Quietly, Rowan sat down, cradling her head in her hands.  She knew, deep down that Solas was right. She was just some kid, trying to fix a fight that wasn't hers. A soft sob escaped her mouth and then, without her allowing them to, tears began to fall.

It took longer than expected to calm down, the Fade amplifying her emotions back at her. But, it was only after she stopped her own tears that she heard another series of sobs.

Curious, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and followed the sound. Just beyond the barrier Solas had erected, cloaked figure sat, weeping into their hands.  

Slowly, she reached out to open the door. The figure didn't move as she drew closer, steps quiet against the grey fog.

Then, as soon as the sobbing had started it stopped, and the figures head turned to face her.

Rowan held in a gasp. Their face was twisted in the same way the wraiths had been, only now, thick black tears streaked down their face. Red rimmed eyes looked longingly at her and Rowan's heart ached, simply looking at them.

“Help?” They whispered, reaching for her. Against her better judgment, Rowan did, clasping their hands and supporting them against her.

They entered Rowan's space gently and the tears kept falling from their eyes, thick and acidic as it touched their cloak. But softly, a silver cloth appeared in Rowan's hand and she began to wipe the tears from their face.

“What's your name?” Her words were calm, and the Spirit shuddered under her care.

“I am Catharsis. I was called by you. And yet, you are unaffected. Why?” It became apparent that Catharsis’ voice was a whisper as they spoke. But the tears slowly stopped as Rowan worked until their face was clear of blackness, showcasing deep, red scars.

“I am good at hiding it” the mage responded, vanishing the cloth. “Plus, taking care of others distracts me” Rowan pulled away and as she walked, the table filled with food. Small, soft cakes, ice cream mochi, and spicy smelling chocolates decorated the table, releasing a cacophony of smells. Catharsis hummed as they stood, wandering over.

“These smell like... comfort?” Catharsis croaked, picking up one of the cakes. It was a light yellow cake, with powder pink frosting. The Spirit bit into it, only for the flavors of banana and strawberry, along with the memory of sunshine and summer.

Rowan hummed as she put on a record. “Food is a good distraction. Especially if they correspond with a good memory. That cake was my little sisters favorite” She smiled sadly and Catharsis twitched as they felt a wave of both sorrow and joy.

“It is not good to hide your emotions” The Spirit whispered, picking up another treat. “To hide them is to build them up. Eventually, you will break under the strain”

Rowan snorted. “So what? I should weep openly, mourning my family? Should I scream my rage at losing them to the heavens until I grow hoarse?”

“Yes,” Catharsis said simply, and Rowan raised her head to blink at them. “The Fade is here for this very reason. Is it not in your sleep that you digest the day's events?”

“I guess? But still-”

“No buts. Let your emotions go . Be free to mourn, to love and to rage. It is good for you, so long as you can let yourself be calm after” The tears Rowan had cleaned off of the Spirits cheeks began anew. “So, mage Rowan. Tell me about your family”

And Rowan did.

Chapter Text

Rowan wakes up to a light in her eyes and her shoulder being shaken by gentle hands.

“My Lady, it's time to wake up,” Grace says, soft but firm. The witchlight in her hand is bright white and Rowan, out of spite, shuts it off with a soft ‘Nox’, before burrowing deeper in the blankets.

The ‘Lumos’ after is tinged with a giggle as Grace pulls off her blanket.

“Noooo” Rowan tries half-heartedly to grab back the blankets, but both girls know she’s just being stubborn. Grace places the witchlight in its little cradle at the top of Rowan’s tent and grabs her leg as Rowan finally sits up, yawning.

“Seeker Pentaghast wants us to ride out before sunrise” Grace helps her put on her leg and Rowan stands gently with her help, getting air bubbles out. “And Messere Solas is helping Master Varric make breakfast”

The mention of Solas makes Rowan’s muscles tense until she forcibly relaxes. Grace doesn't need to know about her issues. Girl has enough as is. “Thank you Grace. Anything else I should now?”

“Yes, Ms. Kent. Mikey wants to escort us personally to the Hinterlands, instead of sending a group of his men with us.”

Rowan snorts as she puts in her tunic. “Mikey huh?”

The responding squeak makes them both giggle.

They both leave the tent with smiles on their faces as Rowan ties up her hair, finally having gotten used to the things they used as hair ties. The picture that greets them makes Rowan hesitate for a moment though.

As Grace had said, Varric and Solas were making breakfast. But she wasn't expecting the men to be making pancakes of all things. Sure, they were a bit lumpier than her mothers recipe, and clearly were made of oats, but they were pancakes nonetheless.

“There you are Thunder!” Varric said, smiling lightly. “Thought that Sparrow was gonna take forever to get you up.” He handed both girls a cake, and offered them the tiny bottle of honey. Solas’ eyes only flickered up to Rowan face for moment and Rowan kept a smile on her face to hide.

“Thank you Varric. Also, Sparrow? She looks more like Bluejay to me” Rowan bit into the still hot oat cake a Varric shook his head.

“I call them like I see them. Now, eat your breakfast” He pushed gently on her plate and Rowan rolled her eyes before devouring the cake. Footsteps approached the group slowly and Rowan looked up to see Tab approaching, a plate of his own in his hand. But the thing that really made her pause was the woman behind him.

She was gorgeous.

Long and braided silver hair was wrapped around her skull like a crown, while her nickel-lavender skin reflected firelight like a statue. Soft periwinkle eyes glimmered above a smile full of straight, white teeth, fangs notwithstanding.

Even the scars that covered her mouth and spread up her cheeks couldn't cover her beauty.

“Nemesis’ sword, you're gorgeous” Rowan blurted, only to have the entire fire stare at her. A laugh escaped the woman's mouth as she and Tab sat next to her and Grace.

“I thank you for your compliment Herald. My name is Kost. My husband says you saved our camp” Her eyes looked at Tab, crinkling gently at the edges. The smile that accompanied it was softer than it had been when she approached and Rowan’s heart melted a bit.

“It’s simply my duty Mrs. Kost” Rowan blushed over her cakes. Deity, she was so fucked if people continued to be this pretty. She could see Varric eying her from the side and ignored the look he was giving her.

Kost shook her head and directed the smile in her direction. “Duty it may be, but not many people find their duty to be so important, or are so ready to do so. If you have need of us in the future, you need only ask” She promised and Tab nodded.

“We appreciate your help little tree. In more than one way” He looked at Grace who blushed lightly at his attention.

“Thank you” Rowan said as Cassandra approached. Turning to the Seeker, she stopped the coming lecture by saying “Mr. Tab and his wife have graciously offered their aid to us, along with the escort to the Hinterlands. Isn't that wonderful Seeker?”

Cassandra blinked at her, shocked by the sudden formality and the keen edge to Rowan’s smile. “It is Herald” She followed the formality with her own and nodded to the couple. “We thank you for assisting us”

The Kossith nodded and stood, bones lightly cracking as she stood. “It is our pleasure. Now, since we have all eaten and the mounts are ready, shall we begin the journey?”

“That would be best” Cassandra agreed and Kost waved the Seeker to follow her to where the mounts were being tended to and the scouts and bandits were quietly talking.

Not even an hour later, they were on the road with Tab and Cassandra leading. The bandits had been kind enough to supply the group with horses (‘Bought legally!” Tab added) and so sharing was no longer a necessity. That didn't stop Kost from requesting that Grace ride with her, so that the women could get to know each other better.

The chatter was mindless around Rowan and she felt herself simply enjoying the scenery. Ferelden, even in the winter, was full of green things. Flowers, herbs and moss grew everywhere they could and the trees that reached to the sky were strong looking for a land so ravaged by the Blight. A light sigh escaped her as a sunbeam hit her face, the winter sun feeling like a balm against her skin.

“Maybe I should have named you Kitten” Varric joked as he rode up next to her, brow raised. “You are enjoying that sun a bit too much”

“Mmm. After so much snow, it's nice to see something that reminds me of home” Rowan replied simply to Varric’s curiosity.

“Yeah? What was back home like for you?” The tone in his voice was innocent, but Rowan knew how loaded the questions was, especially with several people turning their heads lightly to hear her answer.

“It was green mostly. Me and my family lived in a valley, with the next ‘city’ at least ten miles away. It was a mostly quiet farming town, but there was still plenty to do. There was a park I liked to walk my dogs in, full of life. A river ran through it and about halfway through, there was a field of wild flowers.” Rowan sighed as she remembered the picnics she had with her sisters and brothers, giggling in the sunshine over strange things that happened at school.

“You must miss it,” Grace said quietly, interrupting the quiet blanket that Rowan had spread.

The older woman simply nodded. “Every day” She whispered and Varric’s hand twitched on his reins.

“Your Worship?” Athras interrupted from the side, riding closer. “Is that where you learned all those songs?”

“Songs? Do you sing little tree?” Tab shouted from the front, making Cassandra glance at his from where she was talking quietly with Al.

Rowan suppressed the urge to glare at Athras. “A bit. I was in choir for a few years after my accident, so I learned a few things”

“Would you sing for us then Your Worship?” Kost suggested, ignoring the look she was given by Talan, Solas and Grace. Meanwhile, Tab, Varric and Isana quietly agreed that they wanted to hear her sing.

Rowan looked around and her mouth twisted a bit. “What shall I sing?”

“Something sad” Al suggested

“Something happy” Grace countered.

The group began to mutter suggestions and Rowan rolled her eyes before she looked at Solas.

“Solas” Her sharp tone made several of them pause as they looked between the two. “What do you think I should sing?” Her voice was light, but her eyes bore deep into the elves, daring him.

He paused for a moment. “A favorite song of yours perhaps?” He suggested, nodding back to her.

For a moment, Rowan was tempted to sing Hug air a’ Bhonaid Mhoir, just to confuse them all via Gaelic, but instead settled into 32 Flavors by Ani DiFranco.

The group joined in afterward, with Varric’s rough bass, Tab’s soft tenor (joined by Kost’s alto) and Graces mezzo-soprano.

But still, Rowan sang the most of all of them.

Even if she did get her revenge by singing ‘We Ran Out of Space’ by Psychostick. Cassandra’s face was particularly hilarious after that little ditty.

Chapter Text

As they neared the Hinterlands, Tab informed Rowan with a sad smile, that he and the troupe had to leave.

“It wouldn't do you any good to be seen with bandits, now would it?” He soothed, seeing the frown on Rowan’s face.

“Fair enough” She griped and he just chuckled, throwing an arm over her shoulder.

“Hey, you’ll see me soon enough little tree” His eyes flickered up to where Kost and Grace were quietly talking near the last fire on their journey. “I have a few things to come back for” Rowan snorted.

“A few?” Tab rolled his eyes at the teasing and messed up the tail her hair was pulled back in.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of the bleeding heart” He stood, bowing as he walked away, allowing Solas to approach, his face unreadable. Rowan swallowed a sigh and patted the stump next to her.

“Are you here to lecture me again?” Her question was blunt, but Solas could hear the tired edge around it, as if it was now normal for their interactions.

“I have not” He perched gracefully on the stump, facing forwards. “Indeed, our last interaction was... hostile. But I realized I may have overreacted”

“May have?” Rowan raised a brow in the corner of his eye. “Is that what you call it? I call it you being an asshole” He watched as she bent down a bit to grab a clear bottle full of-

“Is that whiskey?” A long swig was taken, and she faced him, offering the bottle.

“It’s cider actually. Plus, I have what is basically a small town waiting for me tomorrow” She stared into his eyes, face set. “Along with a woman who could make or break my chance of getting the Inquisition out of the dirt, plus a shit-ton of people who won't stop fighting. I'm allowed a drink” She shook the bottle at him and he took the bottle with careful fingers, avoiding her own hand.

The alcohol tasted bitter and the burn barely satisfied him as he choked it down. Shaking his head, he handed the bottle back to Rowan who raised a brow at him.

“Where did you find that?” He rasped, before clearing his throat. “Surely Varric would have given you something from his store?”

“Nah. Tab had some from one of his last jobs. Free is free” A longer gulp was taken from the bottle and Solas’ eyes narrowed.

“This is not the first bottle”

“Nope” Her lips popped around the sound and she leaned back, face raised to the darkening sky. Her green eyes reflected the stars beginning to dot the sky and for a moment, he felt heart-stricken, before Rowan shook her head and the feeling disappeared.

Interesting .

“You know, there's only one moon back home?” She said, voice soft. “I talked with Leliana about it, but it's still odd to see two” She settled back and braced herself with her arms behind her.

“I would imagine. Is your home so different than here?” Solas admittedly was curious. After the initial discussion and a few pieces scattered through conversations, Rowan was quiet about her homeland.

“A bit? I mean, it’s kinda close to how it used to be. There are no huge, metal cities. No trains or cars, or planes. It’s just so quiet here” Her tone was medley of sorrow and reverence as if she had hated the noise of the world.  “But, I miss it. It was a giant mess, and there was a war in practically every country, but...it was home” The girl sighed as she placed the bottle between their feet and then rubbed her cheekbone.

“It is one thing to leave, but another to be taken” Solas agreed and Rowan faced him, expression soft.

“You too?”

“Of a sort” He started before hesitating. “I left for a long while, and when I went back, it was not the place I had left it”

They watched the rest of the group get ready for the night, and Rowan giggled as Varric and Cassandra argued about tent distribution.

“I guess that means we have to turn in” Rowan sighed as she tried to get up, the mechanism of her leg making it difficult. Until a hand was placed in her field of vision and she looked up to see Solas, waiting patiently.

“Allow me?” He asked lightly. Her response was a smile as she allowed him to help her up and they walked, in companionable silence to Rowan’s tent.

“Solas?” Her voice stopped him as he began to walk away, ready to sleep in his own blankets.

“Yes?”

“Dream with me?” The request was small, and Solas found himself smiling at her eager eyes.

“If you wish Rowan” He inclined his head as she grinned at him before disappearing into her tent.

“Be careful with that one” A voice to his left spoke, and Solas turned to see the bandit king, Tab, in the shadows, leaning against a tree. The darkness allowed his eyes to glow lightly, showing his half-blood nature.

“Oh? And why is that?” He retorted, unsure of the bandit. Part of him itched to run the man into the mountains, see just how wild the man really was.

“Because she’s one of the good humans” The Bandit stood to his full height, staring Solas down. “She doesn't deserve to be heartbroken because you can't respect her as an adult”

A soft laugh interrupted them, Rowan’s voice dark and joyous as she and Grace got ready for sleep.

“She is young-”

“She is a woman ” Tab practically growled, baring sharp teeth. “You may not realize it yet, but she is becoming stronger than you think. Do not undermine her because her humanity gets in the way Hahren” With his final words, the man walked away, to join his wife where she waited by the fire.

Solas breathed deeply. Truly, the world was grating on his nerves. The sooner the Veil fell, the better.

He ignored the scream in the back of his head at the thought that Rowan would not survive such a thing.

Chapter Text

Rowan is curled up in her blankets, listening to the murmurs around her when she falls asleep. But when she arrives in the Fade, it's different.

Before, she could see bits of the world in her space, along with the spirits that spoke beyond her walls. But now, she sees the effect it has on her space.

The walls that Solas had erected were cracked and grown over like the place had been abandoned. There were none of her friends wandering around the table, still laden with fresh food and cakes, and the stones seemed to echo beneath her mismatched feet.

“Hello?” Her voice multiplied as it bounced along the walls until it sounded like another, darker voice.

“Hello,” The walls said back and Rowan’s hackles rose.

“Okay, I may not know much, but I know I'm not the only one here. Show yourself” A tingle in her closed fist made a laugh crackle like thunder.

“Such a feisty little thing aren't you?” the Voice purred until a shadow coalesced from the broken archway. They were tall, with thin, spindly limbs and a crooked smile. A small shiver went down Rowan’s spine and she gulped.

“I try ya know? Not a lot of us out there” She snarked back. “Now, since we’re such good pals, shouldn't we introduce ourselves?”

The other being purred again. “If you wish. I am Anxiety” They walked forwards and reclined their lanky body on one of the chairs, picking up a strawberry with clawed fingers. “And you, little one, are Rowan. I have heard of you. Taming a Despair? And several of the Loves? Such a thing can't be easy” Fangs cut through the ruby-red fruit and scarlet juices trailed down their pale skin.

“Who said anything about ‘taming’’ Rowan retorted, sliding into her own seat. “I just treat them like people”

Anxiety laughed, the sound half-hysterical. “People? My dear, we aren't people . Ask any of your friends. We are tools, nothing more” They growled out the last few words and Rowan’s eye narrowed.

“You lied to me didn't you?” She said, plucking an ice cube from a glass of lemonade. “I’ve seen anxiety before. I’ve felt it. Hell, my mother has it. You are not Anxiety. Now, tell me who you really are” The cube slammed into the table, now a crystalline blade. Not-Anxiety smiled, and their face twisted for good measure, warping into something much stranger. Fangs turned into tusks, and their lanky body turned into a Mr. Fantastic-esque abomination, with stripes to accent the length. Their eyes, which had been almost human previously, became faceted, golden things that dripped honey from their sockets.

“Perhaps Mother was right about you” The being said, cracking their striped neck. “Such courage should be rewarded” An undertone of buzzing accented their words and Rowan fought the urge to run as the thin, insect-like head came closer.

“Mother?” She rasped.

“I believe that they speak of the true Courage,” Solas said, coming up beside her. Rowan jumped as she felt a hand on the small of her back. “Such a spirit is rarely woken, and to find that her first children still live is...”

“Frightening? Terrifying? Alarming?” They smiled wider as they scuttled closer.

“Intimidating” Solas answered. “What manner of being are you?”

“I am Cowardice” They hissed. “And yet, I am Intrepidity”

A thought struck Rowan like a bat. “One cannot exist without the other” She breathed and Solas’ eyes flickered to her as Cowardice/Intrepidity nodded.

“Correct. You have shown both, and so I have come to see you before you enter the blood-lands” Their fingers plucked another strawberry from the table, and Rowan had to wince when she realized why it picked that fruit.

“Blood-lands?”

“War-zones” Solas answered. “The amount of death brings spirits to precipice easier, and with the Breach tearing the Veil, they are now crossing over easier”

“Correct” Cowardice inclined their long neck to Solas before turning to Rowan. “Which is why, I must ask you for a task to be completed”

Rowan narrowed her eyes at the spirit. “What task?” She asked cautiously, going a bit closer to Solas in case something went south.

“One of my siblings, Daring, has been dragged through one of the rips. He has lost himself and become another mindless Terror” Cowardice explained. “If he is killed, Mother will most displease in me”

“You were babysitting him weren't you” Rowan deadpanned.

Cowardice sniffed lightly. “That is not one or the other. Do you accept the task?”

Rowan eyed the spirit before looking to Solas. The older mages’ eyes were glued to the spirit, and she could feel him ready to blast Cowardice to smithereens. “Solas? What do you think?”

His eyes flickered to her and then back to Cowardice. “It is unwise to accept such tasks from demons. However, I cannot abide harm to a spirit in danger”

Rowan raised a brow at his wording but turned back to where Cowardice was picking more strawberries off of a cheesecake. “We accept the task you have presented to us” She began and Cowardice smiled around a mouthful of red fruit. “However, you will not harm us in the case of Daring dying”

“So long as you are not the being who does so, I accept your terms” Cowardice offered their spindly hands and Rowan swallowed before grasping the scaled limb with her own.

“Then, so let it be”

Chapter Text

The rest of the night had passed in near silence after Cowardice crawled over the wall into the grey of the pure Fade. Solas had said little, and Rowan chose to put on soft Choral music to set a calmer atmosphere, even though she longed to play Celtic Thunder.

Mmm. Emmet Cahill.

But, when she woke up, with the sky still dark and Grace snoring lightly beside her, she had Gabriel Jackson’s O Sacrum Convivium stuck in her head. With a grunt, she turned over and mushed her face into her pillow.

“Fuuuuuck” She groaned. With a wiggle, she gently unwrapped herself from her cocoon and peered over to Grace, trying not to wake her. The other girl had stayed up as much as she could with Tab and Kost, knowing she wouldn't see them for a long while. She had still been awake when Rowan went to bed, and Rowan smiled at the tiny piece of cloth that Grace held to her chest.

Getting dressed was a bit of a challenge, because all of Rowan’s clothes, save for her leg, were all on Grace’s side of the tent. She got the basic ‘decency’ clothes on (Rowan swore that Cassandra was going to burst a blood vessel when Rowan came out one day in the Thedas equivalent of a tank top and shorts) and bundled up her armor.

The camp was still sleepy, with only Al and Isana taking the late night watch. The two of them blinked tiredly at Rowan as she shooed the two of them to their beds, telling them that she could take watch for now. She watched the sky and land as she ‘dressed’, strapping herself into her armor for what would likely a long day of fighting.

By the time the sun was beginning its journey across the sky, the others had begun to wake, some giving her confused looks when they saw her cooking by the fire.

“Hard time sleeping Thunder?” Varric approached her, hair still down from sleep.

“Not really” She responded easily, handing him a steaming bowl. “Just woke up early. You?”

The dwarf shrugged as he dug into the warm porridge. He blinked at it for a moment when he took in the taste of-

“Is there cinnamon in my porridge?” He poked lightly at the cream-gray mush as Rowan nodded stirring the pot.

“Tab had some spices he was willing to trade for. I also grabbed some salt because apparently , people in Ferelden have no tastebuds” She griped, motioning to her tent. Varric snorted as he took another bite.

“You’re pretty right on that one. Hawke and Junior couldn’t cook for shit”

“Junior is Carver, right? Hawke’s little brother?” Rowan peered at her own porridge and mourned the lack of color.

Varric nodded. “Kid became a Templar if you can believe it. Made Hawke so pissed they didn't talk to each other for a long time” A sad smile appeared on Varric’s face and he sighed. “Still love each other though. But after what Blondie did, Carver left the order and left Kirkwall with Hawke”

“Are they alright?”

“Last I heard. But with all this shit going on, who knows?” Varric’s eyes swept up and landed on a figure a little behind Rowan. “Morning Seeker. How’d sleeping next to the vets go?”

“They snore” The older woman groused as she sat next to Rowan, taking the offered bowl blindly. “Did you sleep well, Rowan?”

“I did. Better than the both of you apparently, for all the unwanted company” Two sets of eyes bore into her skull as she ate.

“Unwanted company?” Cassandra asked slowly, putting her bowl in her lap.

Rowan hummed around a mouthful. “Yup. Demon. Civil enough, but creepy as all fuck” She swallowed the cinnamon-bland mush.

“You talked to it,” Varric said, slightly surprised.

“She gave Lady Josephine competition,” A deep voice said from behind Rowan, making her jump and swallow her porridge wrong. Solas looked at her concerned as he sat down, Rowan giving him a thumbs up after getting it down.

“I’m fine” She croaked, taking a sip of water.

“You are supposed to be protecting her” Cassandra gritted out and Rowan’s eyes darted between her and Solas.

“I did Seeker. The demon did not touch her, and that will continue so long as she follows my advice” He nodded to Varric as the dwarf handed him a bowl and Rowan make a note to make more next time.

Cassandra made a noise and shook her head. “What wards have you set?” She asked Rowan who winced minutely.

“I didn't?” She admitted and Cassandra stared at her. “They make me feel caged in” She murmured as she played with the last few bites of her breakfast.

“You-”

“Seeker” Solas interrupted, before Cassandra could continue. “Rowan has made her own defences in the Fade, and so far, we have had no troubles by outside forces. If it would cause you comfort, however, I will teach her such things, but for now, Rowan should be allowed to continue her dreams as they are. If a danger is presented, then we can enforce limitations” Mage and Seeker stared each other down, neither willing to falter.

Rowan and Varric exchanged glances over the fire and he gave her a sympathetic look and shrug as if to say ‘What can you do?’, only to be answered with a sigh.

“Little tree!” Tab whisper-shouted, breaking the awkwardness. “Ready to face the horrible fighting business?” He said with a wide smile and Rowan narrowed her eyes at him, incredulous.

“You are such an ass” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Got any advice?”

“Hit them hard and hit them fast” He flopped into the seat next to Varric, his long legs making it look comical as he folded them to fit. “They won't give you any mercy, so you have to be prepared to do what you have to” His eyes, full of flickering firelight, meet her own sparkling pair. His expression was that of an older brother, giving coaching lessons, while his tone was somber and quiet.  Rowan nodded nonetheless and he gave her a warm smile.

“Now, before we get all the lazybones out of their bed, how about you give us a song little tree?” He prompted, reading the air.

“You just want to hear me sing don't you?” She muttered, before grabbing her water skin and taking a drink.

The sun broke the horizon was quietly, but gain volume, Rowan began to sing Brothers In Arms . People began to creep out of their beds as the song continued, some looking rather sorrowful as they walked to their own fires, listening to her voice carry over the tents and into the forest beyond.

When Rowan finally stopped singing, the people around her were contemplative and quiet. Soon enough, they broke off to get prepared for the day, including Tab who went to Grace and Rowan’s tent after giving Rowan a questioning look.

Within minutes, only Varric was left with Rowan and he gave her a small smile.

“Are you ready?” He asked, voice low.

Rowan snorted and rubbed her Marked hand. “Is anyone ready to go into a war-zone?”

Varric huffed and leaned back, looking at the sky. “Point taken”. He went quiet soon after, unaware (or ignoring) Rowan's eyes on him.

“Varric?”

“Hmm?”

“May I do your hair?” Rowan asked quietly, trying to tread carefully. Varric’s eyes snapped to her and she could practically see the debate in his eyes from across the fire. But she gave no inclination that she knew exactly what she was doing.

But, eventually, he nodded. Carefully, she went around the fire until she was behind him, only to find she had no tie.

“Looking for one of these?” The dwarf offered, holding up a small, leather cord. Her ‘thanks’ was quiet as she began to tackle his hair.

It was softer than she expected and the noise he made when she began to run her fingers through it made her smile. But, nonetheless, she did the task quickly, not wanting to make it awkward.

It was probably going to be awkward anyway when he found the hidden plait she had put in his hair.

Once she was done, she gave him a pat on the shoulder and levered herself up using the log he sat on.

“That was quick. Used to doing other peoples hair Thunder?” Varric raised a brow at her, fixing his collar.

“Just my little sisters. Ivy’s is so thin, it didn't want to go up unless you were quick and rough” Rowan replied, dousing the fire after seeing people begin to put tack on the mounts.

“How many siblings do you have?” He asked lightly.

“Let's see. Holly is my older sister, by a few years. Then it's Warren, or Nate as we call him. He’s the only boy and hates that fact. Then my two little sisters, Ivy and Poppy” With each word, Varric could see the grief Rowan had hidden so well, the smile on her face bitter.

“You miss them”

“Sure do,” She said, sighing. Then, gently, as if he didn't want to startle her, Varric’s hand was placed on her back, hotter than a brand.

“I'm sure they miss you too Thunder” He soothed, thumb moving lightly against her shoulder blade.

Rowan gave him a smile and stood, offering her hand. “And one day, I’ll go back to them. But, that, hopefully, won't be for a long while. Now, let's get going. Cas looks impatient”

Varric snorted as he stood, grasping her hand. “Seeker probably wants us to ride with the sun. She was about as impatient to get out of Haven as you were”

Rowan gave a rough laugh. “Kinda doubt that one Varric”

Chapter Text

Getting underway look a bit longer than anticipated.

Tab held Grace for as long as he could, and Rowan was tempted to let the man take her if it weren't for the fact that Grace looked exasperated with the bandit’s behavior. Finally, after several kisses and goodbyes to everyone, Rowan and her group moved out.

There was something to be said about Cassandra's leading ability: she had an eye for path-finding and was not afraid to use it. More than once, Rowan could have sworn the older woman was leading them in circles, until Rowan finally saw a camp ahead, filled with people in Inquisition uniforms. Swallowing hard, Rowan forced herself to calm down.

She had people here that depended on her. She would not break.

“The Herald of Andraste!” A young woman met them at the entrance of the camp as Rowan and the others handed their mounts to the scouts milling about. “I've heard the stories, everyone has. We know what you did at the Breach” The dwarf (because she had to be. No human was that short and that cute )

“Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I -all of us here- we’ll do whatever we can do to help” Harding looked to Rowan with wide eyes and the knot in Rowan’s chest tightened at the look of pure faith the woman gave her.

“Harding huh?” Varric waded into the conversation, taking a place near Rowan. “Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?” Rowan pressed her lips together as Harding gave Varric a confused look.

“No, why?”

“Well, you’d be Harding in...” He caught sight of Cassandra coming up to them and shook his head. “Ah, nevermind” Rowan had to swallow a laugh as Cassandra rolled her eyes that the tail end of the joke.

“I appreciate it, Scout Harding,” Rowan said, as diplomatically as she could. “Leliana said the situation here was delicate. Would you mind briefing me while we set up?”

“Of course. This way” The scout led Rowan over to a table, with a half-made map and several small, metal markers. “The Crossroads is currently the center of all of this. Other than the castle, it's got the highest amount of people. Both templars and mages wander these areas, along with the bridge points. But, right now, our biggest concern is Master Dennet. He’s Redcliffe’s old horse master and right now, we need horses badly. I grew up here, but all of the roads are swarmed with templars and mages. We can't get to him”

Rowan scanned the map lazily as she listened to Harding talk, thinking about how best to tackle the issues. “Cassandra. You said I am to meet Mother Giselle right? Would there be a chance that I might be able to help search for this Master Dennet after I speak with her?”

Cassandra and Harding gave her strange looks. “Are you sure? It’s a long ways away.” Harding said, motioning to the map.

Rowan nodded. “It’s, what, half a day’s ride? The most concerning part is the people in the middle” She looked to Cassandra with a frown. “Is there any chance we can do an eight-person party?”

Harding was the one who answered her first with a firm expression. “That large of a party will attract too much attention. We should stay with the Four and Four formations you devised.”

“I agree,” Solas said, joining them at the table, making Rowan jump with a squeal. “Perhaps we can clear the way beforehand, but it is best you stay with the others while we take the brunt of the force” He explained, making Rowan sigh.

“Fine. Giselle first, then Dennet. Who do you want as the surrogate?”

“Athras”

“Alhannon”

“Scout Cadash”

Her companions all chimed in at once and Rowan felt a headache coming on as they all looked at each other, examining the choices.

“What about Talan? He’s a healer and as good as Solas is, it might be better if the fighting group had the healer” Rowan suggested and Cassandra raised a brow at her.

“Healer Adaar should stay with you, as an aide,” Cassandra said firmly. “You are the most delicate of our group, and if you are injured, you would require more care. Solas will be enough, and knows to defend himself”

“But-”

“No Rowan” Cassandra interrupted. “He stays with you. We will take Scout Lavellan for now” She raised a brow at Harding who nodded.

“I’ve seen her in action. She’s best in close combat, so as long as you have another ranged person, you should be fine” Harding motioned the elf closer and began to debrief her about the situation while Rowan looked impassively at Cassandra, who clenched her jaw.

“Any other suggestions Seeker Cassandra?” Rowan said, voice even and polite. Cassandra internally winced at the tone before shaking her head. “Well then, I will get the other’s settled in and get our tents set up for the night” Rowan politely nodded to Harding, who saluted her back and walked back to the main part of camp.

“Is there something I should be aware of Seeker?” Harding asked, quietly. Her eyes were vaguely worried at the tone of Rowan’s voice and reaction.

“No, Scout Harding. The Herald is simply tired from the journey. Am I correct to assume you know about her tendency to wander?”

“Sister Leliana warned us, Seeker. We’ll keep someone with her at all times” Harding promised, making Solas raise a brow.

“As a bodyguard or as a deterrent?” He asked, curious.

“Both Ser. My people have been warned that force is forbidden, other than in emergency situations. Otherwise, the Herald is to be kept in camp or in sight if she goes into the fields. If she goes further, she is to be taken back to camp.” Harding informed him firmly. “The Seneschal was very clear about this.”

Cassandra sighed and rubbed her temple. “Rowan will not be happy with this”

“It’s for her safety Seeker” Varric reassured her. “We told her this was coming”

Cassandra looked back at where Rowan and Grace were setting up their shared tent, the red cloth looking striking against Rowan’s pale skin. “I only hope she is not angry with us when she finds out.”

“She will be” Solas answered, adjusting his staff. “But it is for her own safety”

Cassandra nodded and made sure her sword was on her belt. “We should get moving. I want to be at the Crossroads before dark falls”

Her companions agreed, adjusting their own weapons and getting ready for battle. Within moments, the four of them were headed down the rocky, beaten path to the Crossroads.None of them saw Rowan watching them as they left, both anger and sadness burning in her green eyes.

Delicate huh? She thought. I’ll show them delicate .

Chapter Text

Rowan watched her soulmates leave, detached and simmering. It had been years since someone had called her delicate, and to hear it again brought up memories of the first few years after losing her leg. Everyone from her classmates to her family had treated her like she was glass and it had frustrated her to no end when they showed no signs of stopping.

It took her joining her troupe and winning her first bout to make them stop, and even then she found them slipping on her bad days.

“Your Worship” Rowan jumped a bit as Harding came up to her, with another scout next to her. “This is Benton. He’s been assigned to you as a bodyguard while Scout Athras is away” Harding smiled at Rowan, while the mage gave both of them a blank look.

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Worship” Benton said, bowing to her. He was a handsome fellow, even dressed in what as basically a metal dress. Rowan clenched her jaw as she took a deep breath. It was neither Harding or Benton's fault for her mood, or their orders. They did not deserve her ire.

“Likewise soldier. Should I expect a new tentmate then?” She raised a brow and saw, to her surprise, a blush go across the soldier's face.

“No Your Worship. Benton will be posted outside your tent, but he will not share it” Harding rushed to reassure her.

“And where will he sleep then? On the ground?”

“It is my duty Your Worship” Benton stepped in, still pink in the cheeks. “It would be an honor to defend you”

Rowan fought the urge to clench her fists. “I see” She replied blankly. “Then, Ser Benton, shall we? Dinner is to be made and I have spices to aid with”

The smile on Harding's face almost made up for the armored puppy following her to the fire.

Dinner was a quiet affair, a far cry from the last few days on the road. Practically none of the scouts and soldiers around the fire looked at her, and while Benton sat beside her, he kept quiet as well. After Rowan had eaten her share of roasted ram and mashed potatoes, she bid the other farewell and with Benton following her, crept into her tent and tried to rest.

The world was quiet, but as the darkness crept in and people went to sleep, Rowan was still unable to sleep. There was an itching beneath her skin, a spreading restlessness that invaded her bones.

And so, hours after Grace had gone to sleep and the only sound was the crackling of the fire, Rowan buckled her gladius to her belt and exited her tent.

Only to be met with Benton kneeling outside her tent.

“Your Worship! I thought you were sleeping” The soldier said, getting up from his position on the ground. “Is everything alright?”

“I'm fine Benton” She replied smoothly. “I just have a hard time sleeping in strange places. Shouldn't you be sleeping?”

“No Serrah. I have been assigned to guard you through the night. I will not fail you by sleeping on my shift” He vowed and Rowan shook her head.

“As you wish. I'm going to the edge of camp to get a better view of the surroundings” Rowan motioned to the hill just behind the camp and began to walk, making Benton follow her.

Rowan picked quietly through the camp, stepping as carefully as one could with a fake leg and an armored guard until they reached the broken walls surrounding what once was a farm. She perched carefully on one of the broken walls and sighed, tilting her head to the sky.

The twin moons were barely slivers now, making the sky darker and somehow more peaceful in the quiet of the wild. All around them were animals, either sleeping or hunting in the shadows of night.

It was peaceful, and yet Rowan felt the restlessness even more.

Then, in the distance on the hill, she saw a flicker of soft blue light in the darkness.

“Benton? What's that light over there?” Rowan asked, motioning to where the light had been.

“Your Worship? I see no light” Benton squinted into the darkness and even though Rowan could see the light, he either didn't see it or was trying to keep her in the dark about it. Either way, Rowan’s curiosity got the best of her.

“I'm gonna go check it out,” She said, gingerly getting off the wall, only to have her arm grasped by an armored hand.

“You can't! We were given instructions to keep you safe!” The soldier looked panicked and Rowan felt her eyes narrow.

“Instructions huh? Well then you best come with me” She said, prying off his hand. “Because I'm going to see what that is, with or without you. Got it?” The two of them stared at each other before Benton swallowed hard and nodded. “Good. Now follow me”

The two of them went through the field carefully. Rowan was not naive and knew that there were things in the grass that might be unfriendly, so she kept one hand on her sword as they walked until finally, they were on the hill, overlooking the farm. In the distance, she could see the light from campfires and burning buildings alike. Her own camp looked small in the distance and her heart ached for a moment, knowing her soulmates were out there, fighting while she stayed safe in her little bubble.

Turning away from the field, she inspected the cause of the blue light. It was a strange globe looking thing, with gold brackets and a dome that shimmered under the night sky. Running her hand over it, she felt it hum under her questing fingers and jumped as the glow intensified until it was practically a beacon.

But what was most curious was the pattern on the globes shell.

It looked like a connect the dots, with one side showing the picture and the other having beautiful stones as the dots. She gingerly touched one of the ‘dots’ and snapped her hand back as it began to glow.

“A puzzle?” She murmured and Benton made a noise next to her.

“It’s an Astrarium Your Worship. An ancient puzzle, designed to bring gifts to those who solve it” Benton answered, stepping up next to her. “Now that we have solved your curiosity, may we go back to camp?”

“You’re joking, right? If a puzzle is presented to you, you have to at least try to solve it right?” Rowan glanced at him, a sly smile on her face. Benton sighed as he realized she would not leave so easily. “Look, Benton, give me five tries. If I don't solve it by then, we can go back to camp. Sound fair?”

“Yes, Serrah” Benton reluctantly agreed, seating himself next to her, sword at the ready.

“Alright” Rowan whispered, facing the Astrarium. “Let's see what you're made of.”

It took her moments to realize that the lines could not overlap and that if she tried, the puzzle would unravel, making the stones go dark. So she changed her tactics.

Benton watched as his charge traced over the stones without touching them, her green eyes reflecting the blue fire lighting the stones. He listened to her hum as stone by stone, the fire brightened, until with a quiet laugh, the puzzle was solved.

“I did it!” Rowan cheered as the glow built and as she and Benton watched, a beam erupted and then split, vanishing into the distance. Then as they watched it diminish, they heard a sharp click from the globe.

“What’s this?” Rowan wondered, pulling out the tiny drawer that had popped out. Inside, a tiny set of crystal marbles in a silk bay lay, shining through the cloth. Gently, she pulled the bag out and plucked a crystal from it, inspecting the stone.

“I am unsure Your Worship” Benton wondered, leaning closer to see. “They look like the stones in the Astrarium”

“Well, at least it's a start” She sighed, tying the strings of the bag to her belt. “Let's get back to camp. The sun’s gonna be up soon.”

“Agreed” Benton motioned her forwards and they began to head down the path until suddenly, Rowan felt the older boy pull her down into the grass.

“Be-” His hand clasped over her mouth and he held a finger to his own before pointing to something in the distance. And Rowan’s blood ran cold.

There, not twenty feet from them, were mages.

Their clothes were threadbare, tattered things with patches in places. Each of them had not only a staff but also a book, bound in leather, around their waists. But what concerned Rowan was the looks on their faces.

Determination and anger.

One mage, a young one, with dirty blonde hair and leather bound staff, started to speak, voice shaky. “You sure about this Phillip? I mean, the Inquisition-”

“Is a farce Lowell” Another mage, Phillip, interrupted the younger one. “The Inquisition is nothing more than another reason for us to be caged. This will make an example of them” He held up a torch, dripping with something thick and clear.

“But-” Lowell tried to protest, only to be shoved to the ground.

“One more word,” Philip said, stepping on Lowell’s chest. “And I add you to the pyre. Now get up and march ” He growled and began to march towards-

“They’re going to set fire to the camp” Benton breathed next to Rowan and she could feel him shaking as she gently moved his hand off her mouth.

“No, they aren't” Rowan unsheathed the blade from her belt and dug into one of the pouches on her belt. “We won't let them”

“But it's only the two of us! How are we going to kill five mages?”

Rowan turned slowly to him and for a moment, he saw why the Maker had chosen her.

For there, in her eyes, was a fire that rivaled Andraste's pyre.

“Simple, my dear Benton. They can't kill what they can't see”

Chapter Text

It was no small feat for Rowan to convince Benton to go along with her plan. More of a miracle really.

“Are you sure about this? What if your stone doesn't work? They’ll kill us!” Benton whisper shouted as they crept along the field, Rowan leading.

“Then we will have at least tried Benton” She replied tersely. “Now, you remember what I told you?”

“Yes Your Worship. When I hear your command, I am to drop to the ground and cover my ears”

“And?”

“Keep my mouth open?”

Rowan gave him a wide smile and patted his cheek. “Good boy. Now, are you ready?”

Benton swallowed and stood, a handful of Rowan’s shirt in his hand.

“You fool mage! You will die for this!” Benton shouted, voice cracking. They could both hear the rebel mages swearing as they saw an armored figure man-handling a young woman, who began to cry.

“Please no! I’ll be good! I promise!” Rowan screamed, squirming in his hold. Benton almost dropped her, surprised by the tears until she glared through her watering eyes.

“Unhand her!” The pair turned as they saw Lowell, the youngest of the mages, come towards them with Phillip and the rest following.

“More mages? You think you can fool me, girl?” Benton continued acting the bully as he felt Rowan press a stone into his free hand, keeping one for herself.

“Please Ser! I don't know them, please let me go!”Rowan pleaded, getting her knife ready out of sight of the other mages.

“We said unhand her!” The pair saw Phillip and his group undo the bindings on their books, with Phillip in the lead and Lowell beside him, staff at the ready.

Suddenly, Rowan smiled seeing them so close. “Yes Benton dear. Release me”

Then several things happened at once: Benton dropped Rowan as the spellbinders unleashed their spells, realizing they were fooled. And as Rowan rolled, she and Benton released the stones in their hand as Rowan shouted the trigger word:

“Smagt! ” They shouted unison.

The field exploded into light and sound as Benton dove down, covering Rowan’s body with his own as they both covered their ears to the sound of a church bell ringing across the grass.  As the sound diminished, Benton and Rowan worked as one to stand as the rebels screamed in pain from the blinding light and deafening sound.

“I've got the big one!” Rowan shouted above the din and Benton nodded, moving to dispatch his own.

Only for Rowan to pause as she faced the consequences of her actions.

Phillip was still screaming as his eyes bled, burned by the light. There were scratches on his face from where he had tried to claw them out, maddened by pain. His voice was hoarse from screaming, a rusty sound that made her skin crawl as he continued.

But most of all?

He was a person .

Rowan had always fought for fun, playing war games with blunted blades and hand-stitched armor that prevented most bruises. She had experience fighting and knew how to topple a man without making him bleed. But she had never killed before. Injured? Sure. But killed?

“Herald! Finish him!” Benton shouted from where he jerked his blade from a newly-silenced rebel, youthful face splattered with gore. “What are you doing?!”

“I-” Rowan started, unsure for the first time about her plan. Until her opponent made up her mind for her.

“I’ll kill you for this you bitch!” Phillip roared, reaching for Rowan with blind hands. She stayed still as his hands wrapped around her neck, beginning to squeeze the breath from her. “I'll make you pa- ”

Phillip fell to the ground, Rowan’s gladius in his chest. His burned eyes stared blankly at the stars Rowan had admired earlier as she jerked the blade from his chest and stood over him, expression vacant.

“Your Worship?” Benton said lightly, coming close to her. “They’re dead. All of them” He searched his charges face and reached out a hand, only to get a blade pointed at his nose. “Rowan?”

Rowan stared at him, unseeing for a moment, long enough to concern the young soldier. Then, as soon as the blade had come up, it was lowered and Rowan’s eyes began to clear.

“Benton?” She whispered in a voice unlike before, small and unsure. “What-” She went to turn back to the mage’s body but Benton pulled her back to face him, hand shielding her from the empty eyes below them.

“Don't, Your Worship” Benton warned. “Not yet” He pulled her in close until her head was against his own shoulder and felt her sword blade, still naked and bloody, clink against his shin guard. He had seen this before, Maker, he had experienced this before.

“The first is always the hardest” He murmured as she shook in his arms. “It gets easier”

“Should it?” She murmured back, words muffled against metal.

Benton snorted humorlessly. “No, it shouldn't. But this is war. It has to. Now let's get back to camp.” He began to lead her away, but she struggled for a moment.

“What about the bodies? We can't just leave them here” She protested. Benton eyed her, and then the broken dolls on the ground.

“They will still be here in the morning. I will inform Scout Harding of what happened and a pre will be made. Does that sound fair?”

Rowan considered it for a moment and nodded. “As far as we can get, I guess” She agreed.

Then the two of them made the short walk back to the camp, hoping that no one had awoken from the flash-bang Rowan had made.

Only to find Harding and the others frantic, weapons at the ready. The lead scout was the first to see them, her bright eyes widening at the appearance of Rowan leaning heavily on Benton’s shoulder.

“Soldier Barlow! Your Worship! What-”

“I asked him to, Scout Harding” Rowan stepped in, seeing the expression on her face. “I wanted to explore a bit and Benton was kind enough to indulge me. We found some trouble on the way back, but we are uninjured” She quietly explained, suddenly exhausted.

“Uninjured? Then why are you covered in blood?!” Harding shouted, making Rowan wince as Grace saw them and came closer.

“It’s not mine, Scout Harding” She defended and winced as Grace stepped next to the dwarf, foot tapping.

“Then whose is it?”

Rowan pursed her mouth. “A group of pyromaniac rebel mages?”

Harding made a noise, not unlike Cassandra’s and threw up her hands, before focusing on Benton. “Soldier Barlow, do you concur with the Herald’s story?”

“I do Scout” He nodded, and motioned to the field behind them. “See for yourself. There should be a group of mages with burn marks and bleeding ears not too far from the camp” He calmly handed Rowan to Grace as the elf woman came forwards, reaching for the older woman.

“Are you alright my lady?” She brushed a hand over Rowan’s pale forehead and Rowan closed her eyes at the touch, leaning into her hand.

“No Gracie, I'm not. But I will be” She said, sighing. “Scout, may we continue this in the morning? I am very tired and I just had to kill a man for the first time. I would very much like to sleep” Her green eyes met Hardings and the Dwarf swore when she registered the Herald’s words.

“Leliana is going to kill me” The woman muttered and was surprised by Rowan’s quiet rumble.

“I'm a grown woman dammit” She grunted, following Grace’s lead. “This may be the first time I have to do this, but I have a feeling it won't be the last. Goodnight Scout Harding” The woman nodded to Harding and ducked into her tent, Grace waiting for her on their bedroll.

“Good morning Your Worship,” The scout said, sighing. She wiped a hand down her face and eyed Benton, barely standing in his bloodied armor. “Get cleaned up and go to sleep soldier. I want you rested for when you have to explain to Seeker Pentaghast why you allowed her soulmate beyond the border when she gets back this afternoon”

Benton winced and nodded, used to Harding’s gruff concern. “Yes Ser”

Harding shook her head as the boy went to his tent and motioned for the rest of the camp to continue their duties.

“I am so dead”

Chapter Text

Rowan could practically feel Graces irritation as she helped Rowan get cleaned and ready for sleep. After handing Rowan a clean towel to wipe the gore off her face, the younger woman had out Rowan’s armor away, her movements jerky but purposeful. Rowan winced as her helmet (which she had not been wearing and Grace had stared at for a good minute) clanged against the tent pole as it was put with the rest of her armor.

“On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you?” She asked quietly, making Grace freeze and tense. Then with a sigh, her shoulders came down and she fully faced a solemn-faced Rowan.

“I'm not angry Miss. I was scared . I woke up to an explosion and you weren't there beside me. Then when we saw you coming up the hill, you were so pale and covered in blood and-” She broke off, her hands clenching.

“I'm sorry Grace. But, to be truthful, I didn't go out there to fight” Rowan started and grabbed her belt from the pile, untying the sack with the crystals. “My curiosity got the best of me and we found the fight coming back”

“What could make you so curious you went outside the camp at night?”

Rowan gave her a quiet smile and opened the bag. “Benton said it was called an Astrarium. These were inside after I solved the puzzle.”

Grace’s brow furrowed as she took one of the stones from the bag. The stone sparkled like a star in her hands, glowing in the twilight filtering through the tent walls. “What is it?”

“I don't-”  Rowan broke her sentence with a jaw-cracking yawn and it took her a moment to blink the tears from her eyes after it finished. Grace gave the other woman a smile and pressed gently in her chest.

“Go to sleep Miss. You’ll have more time to tell us what happened after you rest.” Grace reassured and to her surprise, Rowan dropped off quickly, drifting into sleep within moments.

The Fade was quiet when she opened her eyes, even waking surrounded by people. She can see Phil messing with her music, while Pragma sat at the table with Catharsis and another cloaked figure, sampling the feast spread across the table. Looking closer, Rowan can see tonight's theme was spicy, with a crock pot full of chili and the smell of curry wafting through the air.

But what makes her pause and relax into the plush velvet beneath her, is the hands stroking her hair.

“You're back” Comes a voice from above her, and Rowan tilts her head back to see Eros, looking soft in the candlelight, running their fingers through her hair. “We missed you,” They say sincerely, pausing to stroke her cheek.

“Eros?” Rowan questioned, confused by the closeness of the spirit.

“You needed comfort little one” They reassured her, making the others look over. “Your hands are red, and your mind rebels. Such things must be soothed darling”

“My hands?” Rowan’s brow furrowed and she looked at the limbs in question, only to see them covered from tip to elbow in blood. A scream escaped her and she went to move away from the spirit, scrambling back from Eros. The spirit reached for her, only to be pulled back by Pragma, who shushed them when they tried to speak.

“Rowan?” Phil approached carefully, kneeling in front of the mage. He carefully reached for her and didn't push when she pulled back, breathing fast and hard. “Rowan, we need you to calm down alright?”

“Calm down?!” Rowan shouted and saw them all wince at her volume. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down?” She asked shrilly, looking at her shaking hands.

“Because he would have killed them if you hadn't stopped them”

Rowan flinched at the statement and saw the unknown figure from before walking towards where they were on the floor. Like Catharsis, this one had scars along their face like tear tracks and a pair of wide red-rimmed eyes. But unlike the other spirit, this one had no twist to their face, and only looked weary.  

“He was a person” Rowan defended, and the Unknown cocked their head.

“And? So are you. He would have bound one of us to kill you, and then set fire to those you care for. Are they not people?”

“Yes but-”

“But nothing child” They hissed and then they were in front of her, taking a bloodied hand in their own, even when Rowan tried to pull away. “You lived, they did not. Why should you feel guilt over such a thing?”

Rowan swallowed hard. “He could have had a family. I could have-”

“He could, and you could, and so could many others. That does not defend their actions” One pale, waxen hand came up and touched the same cheek Eros had, cold where the other spirit was warm. “You must move on. Do not let this consume you”

“How are you to tell me this?” Rowan whispered, searching their eyes.

The spirit grinned, showing sharp teeth. “I am Guilt little one. I have been called to this place many a time, and I will be called many more” Guilt stood, taking Rowan with them and brushed away the tear on her cheeks as the blood on her hands was traded for silken gloves in deepest crimson. “I do not, however, wish to be called by you again about this matter. Understood?”

“Yes Guilt” Rowan nodded and Guilt nodded, handing her to Philautia.

“Take care of this one Self-Worth. Pride and Desire have their eye on her” Guilt eyed him as he held her close, fingers tangled with hers.

“I will” He promised, bowing lightly. “I thank you for your aid”

Guilt nodded and winked at Rowan before leaving, the shreds of their cloak disappearing as they walked through the archway.

The spirits of the room sighed as one.

“You frightened us darling” Philautia said, curling around her. “One moment there was fear, then rage and then you left . Those that leave for too long...”

“What our brother is saying,” Pragma interrupted, giving Phil a look and taking Rowan's hand. “Is that we were worried”

“All of us” Eros joined in, pressing their cheek to hers.

“I'm sorry,” She said, sighing. “I just-”

“No, no more” Catharsis joined them, shaking their head. “Guilt is old and knows of what they speak. Let it be done, Rowan”

Rowan eyed them at the tone, but nodded and let the subject drop. “As you wish” She murmured and Eros nuzzled her cheek.

“Can we rest?” The spirit asked, tugging on her hand. “You are tired”

“No conditions?” Rowan asked, eyeing the four of them.

“No conditions or prices enastem. Simply rest” Pragma promised.

“Please?”

And one by one, they curled together and languished in the quiet.

Chapter Text

Rowan half expects to be woken by shouting, or by someone shaking her awake. Instead, she wakes slowly, still feeling arms cradling her on plush velvet, and sees sunlight filtering into her tent. The ‘door’ is disturbed and not fully put back, still open enough that the lack of sound is a little unnerving.

So, she puts on her breastplate under a longer, roomier tunic and slides a knife into the tiny cache in the leg Harrit had made for her.

But, when she gets out of her tent, there is only a woman tending the fire and cooking something that makes Rowan’s stomach rumble in hunger. The woman is of the Chantry, that much is clear from the habit and robes she wears, but the headdress is different than the Sisters of Haven. Is this the Mother? Rowan wonders and comes a bit closer.

“You are finally awake” The woman greets her without looking up from the pot she is stirring. “I have heard that your night was an eventful one. Your companions wished to wake you, but I convinced them it might be better for you to sleep” Her dark eyes finally go away from her meal and meet Rowan’s nervous ones, flicking down to where Rowan’s fake leg shows between her pants and shoes.

“Thank you for that...” Rowan trails off, unsure of how to address her.

“Call me Mother Giselle my dear. Come, sit. You must be hungry” Giselle waves her over and Rowan nods, carefully lowering herself onto the carved log. The Mother hands her a bowl, steaming and smelling for once like spices and even though Rowan wants to dig into the meal, she hesitates, making Giselle raise a brow. “Is something wrong?”

“I will be straightforward with you Mother” Rowan starts, placing the bowl in her lap. “I do not know you, and I have been told of the dangers on those who play the Game”

“As you should” The Mother reassured, looking Rowan over.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Rowan asks bluntly, staring into the older woman's eyes. However, instead of being insulted, Giselle gives her a small smile.

“You don't Herald. You can, however, trust in this: I wish the Divine avenged and order in the Chantry restored. You are a tool of change, and a way for that order to be restored”

“So, I'm not in danger from you because you can use me?” Rowan summarized, and was surprised to see the Mother nod.

“Bluntly put, but yes” Giselle took a bite of her own bowl after replying and a rumble sounded across the fire. “Eat your breakfast dear. It is rude to waste food”

Rowan suppressed a snort. “Yes, Mother. Now, I hear you have advice for when I meet with the Clerics?”

Giselle smiled. Then she began to teach Rowan exactly why she should dislike Orlais.

That is where Cassandra and the others find them, Rowan eating a bowl of stew with the Mother, discussing the best way to get under the Cleric’s skin. Giselle is the one who spots them first, waving them over.

“Lady Seeker, you did not tell me the Herald was a natural,” She said, making Rowan freeze and turn to see her soulmates coming up the hill.

“I did not know she was Revered Mother” Cassandra responds, looking at Rowan with a clenched jaw. Solas and Varric are no better, both of them showcasing unreadable expressions and Rowan takes a deep breath.

“Mother Giselle. I have some things to speak of with my soulmates. May we have a moment?” Rowan holds the older woman's eyes steadily as she speaks and Giselle nods, placing down her bowl and cup.

“If you wish. I will ask Ser Harding about her scouts and the journey back to Haven while you talk” The Mother says and glides past Rowan’s companions, who nod as she walks past.

Rowan motions to the area around the fire as they just stand there. “We need to talk”

“Yes, we do” Cassandra grits out and places herself across the fire, with Varric to her left and Solas to her right. “We heard of last-”

“Before you lecture me Cassandra” Rowan cuts in, making Cassandra’s jaw click shut. “I have something to say about the utter bullshit you pulled before you left” Rowan barely holds back her snarl as she speaks and it is clear she did not hold it back enough when Varric shoots her a look.

“When we agreed we would come to the Hinterlands, I was under the impression I would be in the field, with or without you, and deemed able to fight after the situation with Henrik. Instead, I am told not only can I not assist with the fighting, I am told I cannot even leave without an escort. Am I truly expected to sit here and be kept in a bubble while you all go out and fight?” Rowan is trying very hard to keep her temper, which is burning a hole in her chest.

“We are keeping you sa-” Cassandra tries to defend, but Rowan is past safe .

“You know what would be keeping me safe? Getting me trained for a battlefield! I had to kill a man last night because he was going to set fire to the entire fucking camp! This a war-zone and we should be acting like it” Rowan is now standing as she speaks, pacing in the small space between tents. Varric watches her pace and sees the wild thing under the surface, crying to come out.

“What if you get hurt, Rowan? What then?” Cassandra asks standing with her. “You are too important to lose, and I cannot abide seeing you hurt”

“And you think the opposite isn't true?” Rowan fires back and delights in the way Cassandra looks at her surprised. “You are all fighting, and I am not there. How do I know you are safe? You could all be dying in a ditch somewhere, and I wouldn't know until my Mark went black. You want to keep me safe? You keep me with you . Sure, we can split parties on occasion, so that the others can teach me, but I didn't live almost a quarter of a century for you to leave me behind” Rowan grits out the last sentence like it pains her, feeling the fire coil under her skin.

The camp is silent for a moment as her soulmates process her words, the pain and anger in her voice breaking through.

Varric is the first to break the silence. “We aren't leaving you behind Thunder” He joins the women in standing, with Solas following.

“It sure fucking feels like it” Rowan feels close to tears with frustration and flinches when Cassandra steps closer.

“I am sorry Rowan,” She says, brow furrowed as she tries to push back the burning in the back of her skull. “ Please, you need to let go”

“Let what go” Rowan snaps back and Cassandra can see the flicker now, just behind her eyes.

“Your magic Rowan” Solas steps closer, cautious as he watches the same flicker grow brighter. “You are leaking. You must control it” He warns as her hands begin to shake.

Rowan whines and Varric is the first to reach her, surprisingly enough.

“Look at me Thunder” He orders and her eyes snap to him as their fingers twined together. “We won't leave you behind alright? But you have to calm down” He keeps his eyes trained on hers as he speaks, and even being a dwarf, he can feel the built up power drain, drip by drip out of her. “There we go” He soothes and she shoots him a look.

“Not a dog” She grumbles, and Varric snorts as he shakes his head, letting her go.

“No, Thunder, you aren't” He agrees and Solas comes closer to them, still hesitant.

“If we promise you that we won't leave you behind, will you listen to us in the field? Even if it means staying somewhere you do not want to?” He asks, and Rowan considers the words, before turning to Cassandra.

“So long as you tell me. I will not be ordered stay ‘because I said so’” She says, looking the Seeker in the eyes. “We are working together, and I will listen to you so long as you give me the same respect. Deal?”

Cassandra nods as she joins them, and hold out her hand. “Deal” She promises and feels the wild thing beneath Rowan’s skin settle, the ozone dripping into soft honey.

She is gifted with Rowan’s smile for the first time since they arrived back into camp.

“Now, what's this I hear about a puzzle Thunder?” Varric asks and Rowan’s smile gets bigger as she begins to tell them of her side to the nighttime adventure she went on.

The others come back piece by piece to see a calmer Rowan wandering off with Solas for lessons in control, with Varric and Cassandra eating a portion of the leftover stew. Giselle just smiles and vows to make more when people ask about dinner.

Chapter Text

Solas is quiet as he watches Rowan walk around the field, eager to clean the mess she had left the night before. When he and the others had seen the bodies sprawled across the field, it was hard for him to grasp the destruction caused by a pebble thrown by an apprentice.

But nonetheless, the wide, flash-burned eyes and bloodied ears are of Rowan’s work and she tasks herself with helping the human soldier, Ben-something, stack the bodies on a cart for burning.

“Benton!” She barked, making Solas jump from his reverie as she motioned at the feet of one of the mages. “Phillip here is a little heavy. You mind?”

“Of course Herald” The boy scrambled to help her, and Rowan waited until he grasped the man's ankles before counting.

“Alright. One, two-” She swung the body with Benton's help into the cart. “-three!” He watches as the body, previously still and limp, heaves for a moment and the red of the insides spill out to cover the ground beneath the cart.

“Maker-” Benton says and his body shudders as the intestines drip down the side. He darts away to vomit, but Solas’s eyes are drawn to Rowan’s wide eyes and pale face. He comes down the hill when he sees her start to shake, pulling her away from the bodies.

“That is enough Rowan,” He says, only to have her close her eyes tight and shake her head, trying to move back to the cart.

“They have to be burned. I have to-”

“You have done enough” He soothes, putting his arm around her and tugging gently. “The bodies will burn in due time”

“His name was Phillip”

Solas stops short. “What?”

“The body. His name was Phillip” She whispers, letting him tug her away to where Benton is recovering. “I killed him”

“You had to Rowan,” The soldier says and Solas eyes the human, seeing the look on his face. “There was no other choice, I told you this”

“I could have-”

“Should have, could have, would have” Benton comes up to her and Solas prevents a glare when he brushes a curl from Rowan’s slowly pinkening face. “But would he let you?”

“He might have,” She says quietly.

“Might have listened. Might have lit you on fire like he planned to do to the rest of us” Benton takes her from Solas without realizing as she lets him hold her close. The elf watches as Rowan’s hands come up and wrap around the soldier's armor and he pushes down the thing in him that protests.

She is not his to keep, not a vallaslin-wearing supplicant to inform him of a dalliance with another.

He is not Mythal, breeding servant as he pleases, and killing those who disobey.

And yet.

“Go back to camp Your Worship,” The soldier says, pulling away. “Messere Solas and I can take care of the burning” He promises and Rowan looks to Solas for confirmation, since they had been in the middle of lessons when Rowan insisted the bodies were burned.

“Go back Rowan” Solas reiterates, nodding. “I will teach you the spell when you are less compromised” He adds, making a light spark in her eyes.

“If you insist. Thank you, both of you” She smiles at them both as she leaves, moving carefully due to the uneven terrain. Soldier and elf watch her leave, finally looking away when they see the familiar shape of Varric waving her over to the fire on the hill.

“She regretted it last night too,” Benton says out of the air and Solas flicks his eyes to the soldier. “She ran the man through only after he had his hands around her throat and was threatening her blindly”

“Did he harm her?”

“No, I wouldn't have allowed him” Benton suppressed a gag as he lifts the intestines back into the cart and Solas crinkles his nose at the smell from the pile. “Mage or no, I would have cut his head off”

“Interesting wording. What does him being a mage have to do with the situation?” Solas sets the cart aflame before the boy can get far enough away and bites down a smirk when he jumps back.

“My sister was a mage. She lived in the Kinloch circle for five years before she died” Benton answers, walking back to Solas.

“What did she die of, if I may?”

Benton was silent for a moment as they watched the bodies burn, the smell of roasted flesh wafting over them both.

“She became an Abomination during the Fifth Blight” He answered finally, as the fire dwindled to blackened bones and ash. “There was no choice”

Solas caught on quickly as the soldier refused to look away from the bones. “You killed her”

Benton nodded and Solas watched him walk to the ashes, brushing away the remains to reveal shining stones and tarnished metals to salvage. “She tried to kill me. It may have once been my sister, but the thing that possessed her was not. And that thing made her watch and when she died by my sword, it made me watch her eyes clear as she bled out”

He plucked a bright green stone from the pile and brushed mage off the glittering stone before placing it in his pocket.

“I became a Templar to help my sister and got her blood on my hands instead” He looked back up at Solas from where he stood on the edge of the hill, hands clasped in front of him. “Have you ever had to harm someone you loved?”

Solas took a deep breathe, about to answer, when-

“Hey, Chuckles! Pretty Boy!” A shout from the top of the hill prevents him from answering as Varric appears, Rowan beside him. “You’re gonna miss dinner!”

Solas sighs as Rowan waves next to the dwarf. He can practically feel her smile when he raises his own hand and waves back more sedately.

“Shall we Ser?” Benton asks, motioning forwards.

“We shall” Solas agrees and lets the former-Templar follow him to the camp, where a bright smile and spices await them both.

Chapter Text

Dinner is a happy enough affair, with Rowan helping Lace and the other scouts cook dinner, the dwarf gleeful when she finds that the young mage has a collection of spices at her disposal and was willing to share them. Roasted ram and vegetables made up the most of the dinner, the ram freshly hunted and the vegetables dug from the rocky soil with careful hands.

A few water-skins of beer were passed around along with some freshly filtered water courtesy of Solas and Talan. The two older mages also ensured that when night came, wards were put up to prevent more rogue mages from setting fire to the camo while they slept, night watch notwithstanding. They also included Marcus and Rowan in their nightly rituals, teaching the younger two about proper ward usage while the Seeker and Benton watched, listening to the apostates teach them.

“So, what about large open spaces?” Rowan was asking Talan as he showed her a ward best suited for a wall. “Do you just do one big one and lay in it?”

“Traditionally, yes. Most set wards either as one large one, with smaller wards set around. However, this is dangerous as sometimes the ward can harm the caster as well as the trespasser.” He warned, setting a ward onto a nearby rock. The ward glowed for a moment before dimming until it looked like someone had simply drawn in charcoal on the stone.

“What about dream wards?”

“Dream wards are surrounding wards, most of the time” Solas interjected, leaving Marcus to lay his own wards on the threshold of camp. “However, too many can cause the user to feel unrested and weak, as it tampers with the dreamer connection to the fade”

Rowan nodded, concentrating on her own ward. “So too much of a good thing is a bad thing?”

“Correct” He quietly watched her place the ward on the side of her and Grace’s tent, the ward spreading like leaves across the leather and linen. For a moment, he was concerned about it staying to only their tent, until with one last pulse, it burned itself into the tent. “You are getting better at this. Soon, it will be only two of us setting up the wards” He graced her with a smile, which she returned shyly.

“Oh, Solas, that reminds me” Rowan paused and looked at Marcus and Talan who were finishing up their last few wards. “Would you dream with me tonight? At least for a little while?”

Solas blinked at the request but nodded in acquiescence. “I would be happy to Rowan. I do, however, have first watch. I will join you in the Fade when I am finished”

“Sounds perfect. Now, for this ward. Is the runic field supposed to look like that?”

Not long after the sun set, the mages finished the last few wards, many of the permanent fixtures, for the camp. Rowan and Marcus split off from their soulmates, yawning from the expenditure of energy, while Talan and Solas got ready for the first watch with the soldiers.

Even from her ‘nap’ earlier, Rowan felt tired and lethargic as she stripped and took off her leg to go to bed. She mumbled a quiet ‘good night’ to Grace as she snuggled into the sheets, dropping off immediately.

The Fade, however, was not so peaceful.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she was on her feet with an excited Phil holding her hand.

“Phil? What-” Rowan sputtered, as she stood.

“Your heart! It's better!” Eros joined in, twirling her. “You’re not as angry!”

Rowan blinked as Pragma shook their head, smiling fondly. “You were angry and scared. You are no longer” They clarified.

“I had a necessary talk with my soulmates” She explained, letting Phil hold her hand. “I feel much better”

“I would imagine” Catharsis chimed, coming up the group. Their eyes softened as they brushed their fingers across Rowan’s cheek. “Would you like us to leave when He arrives?”

“What? No!” Rowan protested, frowning at the spirit. “I invited him so that we could all have time together. You shouldn't have to leave just because Solas is joining us”

Pragma laughed quietly. “I think Catharsis is asking if you wanted time alone enastem.”

Rowan blinked and flushed when she caught on. “Thanks, but no. We aren't really...there yet” She finished awkwardly. “Hell, I haven't even kissed any of them yet”

“Why not?” Eros asked, tugging her lightly onto the dance floor in the middle of her space. “I'm sure they would like it. I know you would”

Rowan sighed and left Eros spin her, feeling her nightclothes change back into the ivory dress she wore when dancing. “It's not that simple” She sighed. “We haven't had a lot of time together, and while I am trying to change that, I can't just spring a kiss on them”

Eros grunted and passed her off to Pragma, who swept Rowan into a waltz. “You fleshies are so strange”

“Fleshies?” Rowan sputtered, as Pragma shook with laughter.

“Your memories are full of strange words enastem . Eros has been having fun with a few of them” Pragma explained.

Rowan shook her head as Phil grabbed her by the waist, lifting her away. “You guys are so weird,” She said fondly, as suddenly, Phil was pulling away from her and Pragma was pulling the needle from the record player. Rowan blinked and turned to see Solas coming through the archway, his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Rowan?” He asked, looking at the spirits and where Phil still stood close to her. He tried to move away at the look, until Rowan grabbed him and tugged him closer.

“Have you met Phil? And his siblings?” Rowan smiled at the older mage as he blinked at her friendly tone and clear camaraderie with the spirits.

“Not as they are, no.” He replied. “Would you introduce me?”

“Of course,” She said brightly. “We have Pragma, or Long-Standing Love, Eros or Physical Love, Philautia or Self-Love and Catharsis. Plus the spirit of Curiosity that keeps hanging about and not saying hello” She looked pointedly at the bed of catnip along one of the walls and they all hear a snicker come from the greenery.

“You never asked!” The spirit defended, popping their head out of the herb. Their eyes swirled like lava lamps, casting a strange orange light onto the plant.

“Maybe I wanted you to ask first” Rowan shot back, sticking out her tongue, and went over to where Solas stood. “We were just dancing. Would you like to join?”

Solas raised a brow at the request. “With you or with them?”

“Both?”

“Not at this time,” He says instead of ‘no’. “I would, however, like to see you dance, if I may?”

“Gladly, Solas”

And for the rest of the night, Solas watched Rowan dance between the spirits, from the delicate waltz with Pragma, to tango with Eros (complete with a rose in the spirits teeth) and finally to a pas de deux with Phil, until he could feel morning in the prickling of his skin.

“I believe” He started as Rowan reached Catharsis to begin another dance, “That it is time for us to be going. The Crossroads await us”

Rowan sighed as Catharsis warbled unhappily. “We can always do it tomorrow,” The spirit said, brushing her cheek with a bony hand. “We will be here”

“Are you sure?” Rowan asked, brow furrowing. “I won't keep you if you have others to visit instead”

Pragma chuckled as they kissed her cheek, to see the green flicker in Solas’ eyes. “You are our only enastem. We will not give you up so easily”

Rowan eyed the spirit as she got hugs from Phil and a peck from Eros. “You're going to have to tell me what that means eventually, you know that right?”

Pragma smiled as they handed her to Solas. “No, my dear, I do not” and with those words, they, along with their siblings and Catharsis, poofed into the Fade.

“Shall we?” Rowan asked, motioning to the door Solas had walked through.

“No good-morning for me?” He teased lightly, only to see Rowan cock her head lightly, before wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head under his chin. He tensed in surprise, not expecting her to follow through.

“Good morning Solas” She mumbled against his tunic, and before he could get a word in or reciprocate, she disappeared into the waking world.

Chapter Text

Rowan’s morning starts out slow, waking up from her time in the fade as dawn began to shine through the worn down fabric of the tent. Grace sleeps on next to her as she gets ready, throwing on her armor over her day-clothes.

When she gets out of her tent, the only people around the fire are scouts and soldiers. One of them looks up and waves her over, holding up a bowl of something sweet smelling.

“Good morning Herald” The scout greets, handing her the bowl. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well, thank you, Ritts. Does Scout Harding have you on a rotating shift? I could have sworn you were on morning patrol for the Crossroads.” Rowan inquired and the scout blushed a bit when she realized Rowan remembered her.

“I was Your Worship. However, the cult in the hills has gotten a little out of control. Harding is having us investigate and keep watch” The scout told her, putting on a pot of water for boiling. Ritts made coffee like a machine, pouring and measuring using her eyes until they all had a cup of the bitter brew. Rowan took her coffee with no adjustments, although she was happy to see both cream and little twists of sugar being passed around for the others.

“Ritts, is there a place to bathe nearby? I feel a little dirty after the incidents from the last two days”

“Oh, of course. Just beyond camp, we found an abandoned house. It's got a tub and things. The water is cold though, as we weren't able to enchant the buckets” The scout pointed off in the distance and Rowan saw the house with ease, along with its overgrown garden.

Rowan thanked the scout and downed the rest of her coffee, putting the cup with the rest of the camps dishes. She grabbed the little bag of toiletries Josephine had given her and picked her way over to the cabin with relative ease.

When she arrived and opened the door though, her mood soured.

As Ritts had said, there was indeed a tub and buckets full of water. However, the area around the tub was covered in dirt, grass and red smears, like someone or something injured had tried to take up residence in the creaking shack.

“What the fuck ” She whispered, stepping in more. She put her little bag in the tub, as it was the only clean thing in the room. “And here I thought standards applied for shit like this”. Sighing, Rowan ran a hand through her hair and winced at the grimy feeling.

Resolving herself, she grabbed some the pails and began to fill them from the well next to the cabin.

The water was warmed quickly by her magic, each bucket steaming when she was done. The baggie was moved to a (mostly) clean end table, and she unwrapped it as the tub cooled a bit until it was enough for her to bathe without cooking herself.

In the baggie, Josephine had packed only the essentials thankfully. A washcloth, a pumice stone, solid sweet smelling hair cleaner, a comb and, lastly, a balm for bruises.

It took Rowan a bit of maneuvering to get into the tub with her leg off, putting the appendage next to the tub where it wouldn't get wet. She bathed as thoroughly as she dared, trying to be quick about getting clean while also enjoying the first bath she’d had in almost five days. The pumice stone was used sparingly, wrapped in the cloth to prevent abrasions.

When Rowan was finally clean, she rinsed off the soap into the tub, having not filled the thing beforehand. She sighed as the water, warmer than it had any right to be, soaked her until her skin was pinking in the warmth.

Only for her to shiver as the cold of the Hinterlands wind blew through the cracks in the wood.

Pulling the drain on the tub, she watched the water run along a makeshift pipe to drain outside. She dried quicker than she had bathed, running the comb through her hair so she could braid it back.

Once her hair was braided and she was clothed again, she made to leave-

Only to be stopped by a note she hadn't seen before.

The note was simple and to the point: fighting brothers, one a mage and one a Templar, and both had forsaken their family for their cause.

It broke Rowan’s heart to see the sooty fingerprints on the edge and the bloody ones next to them. A quick to the chest nearby showed no sword, only old books and to her surprise, a small dagger.

The dagger was rusted a bit, and the leather on the hilt was frayed and nearly gone. But, she took it anyway, wrapping it in one of the moth-eaten rags.

She headed back to the camp and found everyone finally awake and eating breakfast. Cassandra was the first to spot her coming up the hill and the Seeker waved her over to the tiny group leaning over the map.

“Morning Cassandra. What's our plan for today?” Rowan greeted as she came closer, putting her bundle on one of the requisition tables.

“We are going to be heading to see the Horsemaster today after we stop in the Crossroads” The Seeker motioned to the map, pointing to a small area in the upper corner. “From there, we have to travel to the cult in the hills. They are becoming too powerful and we need to assess the situation and see if it will be beneficial or detrimental to the area.”

Rowan looked at the map and saw the layout, including the fact that they were literally going to be walking from one end of the Hinterlands to the other.

She was definitely going to have blisters after this.

“Well then” She sighed, mentally preparing and glad for Josephine's foresight to give her the Thedas equivalent of Tiger Balm. “Let's get going. If the cult proves to be dangerous, I won't want to have to worry about sleeping near it”.

Cassandra smiled and handed her the sword Harritt made her and her staff. “Lead the way”

Rowan took her weapons and girded herself, knowing that there were going to be people trying to kill her again soon. And that, contrary to what she hoped, she was most likely going to have to kill them.

“Have a good bath Thunder?” Varric looked at her still-wet hair and the hasty braid. “Heard you were up early.”

“Yeah, I feel a lot better, especially after yesterday” She smiled quietly at him. “Hey, my braid is kinda coming apart, would you be able to fix it for me?”

The question was innocuous, and Rowan had to suppress the urge to laugh when a blush, light and sweet, crept over the dwarf's face.

“Can't do that Thunder” He finally replied. “I may be a surface dwarf, but the customs stick with you.”

“What customs?” She asked, feigning innocence. Across the way, she could see Isana slowly breaking, her own soulmates hiding their smiles.

Varric cleared his throat, looking away from her.  “Braiding hair can be- intimate. It's normally only done between family or couples” He hesitated and looked lost, trying to explain without hurting her feelings. Rowan bit the inside of her cheek and took pity on him.

“No problem Varric. I'll get someone else to fix it” She smiled and patted his shoulder as she passed, intent on grabbing either Talan or Athras to fix her braid.

“Rowan, wait”

Cassandra came up from behind her, brow furrowed as she came closer. “If you would like, I can braid your hair. It should not take more than a minute or two”

The older woman looked nervous, but Rowan was happily surprised to hear the offer.

“I would be honored, Cassandra. Should I sit down?”

“No need. You are short enough for me to be able to braid your hair standing” She said off hand. Quietly, the Seeker turned Rowan around and took out the hastily tied leather cord. Her fingers in Rowan’s hair were gentle, soothing the curls enough to work with them.

As Cassandra had stated, it only took a few moments for her to braid the slowly drying curls into a tight braid, close enough to Rowan skull that there would be no worry about it getting in her face in battle. Sooner than Rowan wanted, Cassandra was done and tying off the braid with a strong knot.

“Thank you Cassandra” Rowan gave her a smile as the Seeker nodded sharply.

“Anytime Rowan,” She said brusquely and walked away, briefing the B-Team on what they were to do in the Crossroads while they were getting Dennet. Rowan shook her head and went to make for her tent, hoping to grab her net, flash-bangs and the little star-stones that the Astrarium gave her.

Instead, she bumped into Solas and wondered why all of her soulmates were standing so fucking close to her.

“You keep interesting company,” He said quietly and without preamble. Immediately, Rowan looked behind her to see if anyone was in earshot and quietly pushed him a little further into the bush, the older mage looking both exasperated and amused as she led him.

“I'm surprised you would talk about my ‘company’ so close to Cassie” She whispered back to him, eying where the others were gathered.

“She cannot hear us” Solas raised a brow at her. “You seem concerned that she might find out”

“I am . If she finds out about Pragma and the others she might, oh I don't know, make someone keep them away?” She bit back and got an unimpressed look. “What, you can have fade friends and I can't?”

She got a furrowed brow from Solas as he took in her words. “Who-”

“Phil. He said that you were besties with a spirit of Wisdom” Rowan explained and continued, ignoring Solas mouthing the word ‘besties’. “Was he correct?”

“They are” He confirmed, and looked up. “We shall continue this conversation later. Seeker Pentaghast is waiting for us”

Rowan gave a jerky nod and went to move away, only to pause. “Solas?”

“Yes?”

“When I hugged you last night” She paused and bit her lip. “Was it unwelcome? I know you kinda don't touch people, but-”

“Rowan” He cut into the beginning of her rambling, a tiny amused smile on his lips. “It was not unwelcome, simply unexpected” He reassured, and Rowan smiled back.

He willfully ignored the jerk his heart made at the joy in her eyes and motioned forwards.

“I believe we have a Horsemaster to meet?”

Chapter Text

When the Templars attack on their way to the Crossroads, Cassandra’s first instinct is to defend Rowan, even with the rest of the group supporting her. The Templars charge and Cassandra can feel the ripple of a Silence, and she hears both Rowan and Solas cry out, their magic suddenly ripped from them.

Solas is the first to recover, keeping behind Varric as the Dwarf lands shots into the gaps between plate on the one carrying the Tower shield and making his way towards them.

“We are not your enemies!” Cassandra shouts, outraged by the attack. But the Templars do not stop their assault and keep coming. For a moment, Cassandra panics, knowing Rowan is behind her and is likely still reeling from the Silence.

Until she hears a shout and Rowan slips past her, sword plunging into the neck of the Templar coming up on her flank. Red covers the plates of her helmet and runs down her sword as she rips it out, letting the man bleed out.

It takes Cassandra a moment to snap out of her surprise, letting Rowan dispatch the one she was fighting face to face, and Cassandra can see the reason Rowan is getting people downed so easily.

Along the blade of her sword is lighting . It crackles along the edge and each time Rowan hits the metal, Cassandra can see the Templar she is fighting flinch back, allowing Rowan to get into the openings he leaves.

Then, within moments of the fight beginning, it ends as a bolt goes through a Templar's neck and the last two retreat, running back into the ruinous blaze surrounding the area.

“Fuck, Thunder, you alright?” Varric asks, worry coloring his tone. Cassandra looks over to where Rowan is standing and can see her skin, paler than normal, under her helmet, accompanied by labored breathing.

“‘M fine Varric” Rowan mutters and undoes the buckles on her helmet, wavering before she darts away to a bush.

Cassandra winces at the sound of Rowan’s breakfast coming back up and she helps her back up after she hears her whimper.

“What the hell was that?” She asks, wincing as she stands. “It felt like-”

“Like the world went away?” Solas slips in, coming to stand with them. Varric is close behind, brow furrowed in concern. “It was a Silence. Templar’s use it to strip a Mage of their magic, in and out of battle” His brow furrows as Rowan struggles to stay standing.

A thought creeps into Cassandra’s mind.

“That was the first time you have been Silenced, wasn't it?” She asks, keeping her hand on Rowan’s lower back. Varric hisses through his teeth as Rowan nods, starting to stabilize.

“Can we get going? I want to get to Dennett as soon as we can” Rowan asks, and finally cleans off her sword and sheathes it. She looks at a loss to the cleaning rag and Cassandra takes it from her, throwing it into one of the fires nearby.

As soon as Rowan could walk without shaking, they began to move. There was another small group of Templars on the edge of the Crossroads, easily dispatching a few of them while the rest fled when they saw the look in Rowan’s eyes and the insignia on Cassandra’s armor.

Soon enough, they arrived in the Crossroads.

Rowan’s first impression was anger. Back home, she had lived in towns with enough of a homeless population that seeing them every day on the way home from work was normal. Most of them wore layers in order to survive the cold Spring nights and carried their sleeping bags with them in case their couldn't find shelter.

The refugees here, however, looked worse than the people back home.

Most of the people she could see were thin, with clothing more close to rags than anything else. She could smell something boiling in the few pots she could see, and the grey watery liquid made her stomach turn.

She had been eating fresh fruit and spiced meat for the last five days, while these people could barely afford to eat enough to survive.

“Cassandra, what are we doing to keep these people fed?” She murmured aside to the Seeker. Cassandra sighed at the question, seeing where Rowan was going.

“Our scouts are having a difficult time getting meat and vegetables from the area due to the rogue mages and templars. Most of the local hunter's aren't used to trained fighters and it's too dangerous for them to leave the area if an attack were to occur. We are trying Rowan, but it is a process”

Rowan chewed on her lip, a nervous habit left over from her childhood. “See if we can get a few scouts to hunt near the Outskirts camp. I saw plenty of rams there, and I saw some potatoes in the field. They might still be good, and if not, the people in this area can use them as starts for the next crop”

Cassandra raised a brow and nodded. “I will pass it on Rowan” She promised and the younger woman nodded, moving into the ‘Village’ more. The group separated as they found things to catch their attention. Cassandra went to commune with the scouts, Varric close behind, while Solas found the healers and began to aid in making the injured either more comfortable or doing his best to heal them.

Rowan went wandering.

It was easy to see the impact of the rebellion on the people of the Hinterlands. Most gave Solas a wide berth, his staff a huge warning sign for some. Others kept a wary eye on Cassandra and the sword on her hip.

They didn't give much notice to Varric and Rowan, however, their weapons and armor unfamiliar enough to be suspicious, but not wholly threatening.

“Someone, please, help my wife!” A shout to Rowan’s left startled her, and she turned to see an elven man, thin and wringing his hands. While some of the people looked over, most of them stayed away from the man, willfully turning away.

“Whats wrong with your wife sir?” Rowan approached cautiously and saw the surprise in his eyes when he saw her coming, a vision in leather armor and armed to the teeth.

“She can't breathe Serrah,” He said, motioning into his home. “My son Hyndel normally has her medicine, but he went into the hill to join that cult. She’s been getting worse and-” He cut himself off, looking fearful. “Please, can you do anything?”

“Would you mind if I have my friend look at her? He’s a mage but he’s kind” She felt bad for adding on the words, but the man relaxed a bit when she said them.

“I would be glad for your help Serrah”

Nodding, Rowan motions for him to stay and finds Solas near the healers. For a moment, it doesn't look like he is willing, but seeing the pleading expression on his face sways him.

“Show me,” He says, after washing the blood off of his hands. “I will see what I can do, but the lungs are delicate. Our best course of action would be to have Talan look after her.”

“I understand Solas. Thank you” Rowan touches his arm gently, the barest squeeze against his forearm, before leading him to where the refugee, Callum and his wife Mira wait.

Solas is silent as he looked her over, the woman’s chest barely moving as she lay still. A few moments pass as Solas pulls away and rubs his forehead.

“Her lungs are inflamed on the inside, likely caused by damage in her youth. The best way to help with this is a potion to soothe the inflammation. But, at the moment, that is the best we can do.”

“Wait, so she has asthma?” Rowan asked and both elves look at her surprised.

“This disease has a name?” Callum asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah, it actually pretty common where I'm from. Maybe 1 in a hundred kids gets diagnosed with it. Some cases are worse than others, but all of them have trouble breathing. Tell me, does it get worse in the winter? Or maybe during spring?”

“Spring, yes. When the flowers start to bloom. She is mostly alright in Summer, but only if the air is dry” Callum answers quickly and Solas raises a brow at Rowan as she thinks.

“Solas, is there any way to sooth the inflammation until Talan gets here?”

“I can heal a bit of it for now, but it will come back”

“Please,” Rowan asks and turns to Callum. “I'm going to see if one of my associates can stay with you for a while. He will be aiding with the healing in the rest of the Crossroads, but I would like to have him stay with you and help care for your wife. Would that be alright?”

Callum nods and surprises both mages by taking Rowan’s hands in his own, tears threatening. “Thank you Serrah. Thank you”

Rowan smiles and turns her hands to that the cradle his. “It’s the least I can do. My mother had this illness. I would hate to see you lose your loved one when there is something I can do.” Solas looks at her at the past tense phrasing but stands after healing Mira.

The two leave to find Cassandra and Varric when they hear a pot crash to the ground not ten feet from them. They both turn and Solas watches as Rowan’s face drains of color upon seeing a girl, no older than ten, standing there.

“Ivy?”

Chapter Text

Rowan can't move.

Her mind works as she takes in the girl in front of her, stuttering as it processes. Short auburn hair frames her face, with freckles like constellations running rampant across her cheeks. Wide, forest green eyes begin to water as Rowan stares and then she is running to her, and Rowan feels the impact of her little sister in her bones, and nearly sobs as they fall backward.

“You're here! You were gone, and we couldn't find you! Poppy-” Ivy sobs out her own words and Rowan shushes her, picking up the girl as bit and adjusting her where they sit in the dirt next to Callum’s home until Ivy is in her lap and Rowan is sitting on her good leg with the other extended out.

“I'm here Ivy.” She whispers, cradling her baby sister. “I'm here”. Ivy nods into her shoulder and Rowan can see Solas standing awkwardly to the side, his eyes slightly wide. She mouths ‘Get Cassandra’ to him and he looks relieved as he walks quickly away to where their Companions are.

“Ivy, hunny, I need you to look at me,” She says finally, and Ivy reluctantly takes her head out of the crook of Rown’s neck. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Kinda?” Ivy admits, sniffling and rubbing a tear away. Rowan takes a clean cloth from her bag and instructs Ivy to blow before she lets her sister continue. “We were at home, and then there was a fire. Everything went smokey, and then when it went away, we were here. Mr. Callum and Ms. Mira let us stay with them ‘cause of the bad people”

Rowan processed the words for a moment and then, very slowly, said “Us? Is-”

Ivy smiled at her and nodded. “Poppy, Holly, and Nate are here too” She confirmed and Rowan could feel her heart shudder.

“And Mom?”

Ivy looked like she was about to cry again as Rowan asked the question, but shook her head, curls flying. “We can't find her” She whispered.

Rowan took a deep breath and nodded sharply. “It's okay Ivy. We’ll find her” Rowan kissed her little sisters forehead and gently pushed Ivy out of her lap, trying to get up. The younger girl took the que and helped her up when Rowan’s leg gave her trouble.

Rowan was barely standing when her Soulmates arrived, out of breath and flushed. They took in the scene, Ivy holding Rowan’s hand, the tears tracks and the similarities between the two girls.

“Rowan?” Cassandra prompted and Rowan gave her a small smile.

“Everyone, meet my little sister Ivy.” She motioned to the little girl by her side, who then tried to hide behind her. “ Anwylyd , these are my soulmates, Cassandra, Varric, and Solas”

At the mention of her soulmates, Ivy peered around Rowan’s legs finally and actually looks at the people before her. Varric is the only one who smiles at her, waving at the little girl as Cassandra and Solas stare. Ivy giggles at Varric and waves back, a tiny smile on her face.

“Nice to meet you,” She says finally, but stays slightly behind Rowan. “Come on Sissy, the others are waiting!”

“Of course Ivy” Rowan smiles down at her sister and looks at her soulmates. “Come on. I have a few people for you to meet” She says and lets Ivy lead her by her hand, as her soulmates exchange looks behind her back. They watch as the little girl tugs Rowan towards a second building nearby, and they can see three other figures in the window, milling about.

Each of them has Rowan’s smile.

Rowan lets go of Ivy’s hand when they arrive, and the girl barely pays attention as she pushes open the door.

“I found her! I found-” Ivy bursts and Cassandra nearly shoves Rowan out of the way when a blur of color tackles her into the dirt, Rowan yelping as she's knocked over.

They watch as the girl, maybe a few years older than Ivy cries into Rowan’s armor. The next to arrive at the scene is a young man, whose hair is closer to blonde than red and he simply holds Rowan silently as the last of the five siblings come out of the house. She is the oldest of them, and her stomach is rounded with new life. She doesn't tackle Rowan, doesn't hold her to the ground, but after her siblings let Rowan up, she snatches the woman to her and holds her tight.

“Where were you?” The second youngest asks, breaking the silence as she wipes away her tears. “We woke up here but-”

“That's gonna take some sitting down Poppy” Rowan interrupts, wincing. “It would be better to talk about this inside”

“Roe-” The oldest starts, looking at her companions with trepidation and fear at the sight of their weapons. “Who are these people?”

Rowan sighs. “It's a long story, Holly. Let's get inside. I'll explain everything there” she promises and motions the man over.

“I’ll get tea ready” The man promises, eyeing them and keeping close to Rowan.

“Thank you Nate” Holly breathes and motions them all inside.

The cabin is lacking space for all of them to sit, even as Rowan motioned Holly into a chair by the small fire and took a place for herself. Nate busied himself with the pot of water on the fire, finding a small and worn teapot nearby. Ivy and Poppy sat on the floor, with Ivy near Rowan’s feet and Poppy nears Holly’s.

Feeling awkward, Cassandra took her place by the door, leaning against the worn wood. Varric took the other side, while Solas hid in the corner, watching from afar.

Then, they heard Rowan’s story, unedited and blunt, from her view of the world.

“I woke up in a dungeon...”

Her siblings listened, enraptured by her tale as it was spun, with Ivy eventually taking Rowan’s hand as she told them of closing the Breach and waking up alone. Nate glared at them when she told them of the situation, of her being made figurehead. Holly smiled and Poppy clapped happily when she described Heimarr, and the lessons he promised.

Soon enough, Rowan had finished with coming to the Hinterlands to aid the refugees and meet the Revered Mother who was now most likely on her way to Haven. The cabin was silent for a long moment, each person digesting Rowan’s words. Finally, Holly spoke.

“You always were the strange one Roe,” She whispered, smiling softly at her sister. “But, it looks like Mom had a point with raising us as she did.”

“What do you mean?” Rowan asked, brow furrowed. Holly smiled at her and held out a closed fist, only to open it and reveal a small fire blossoming in her hand.

Cassandra sucked in a breath as each of Rowan’s siblings displayed magic in their own way: Nate icing his tea with a touch, Poppy making a shower of sparks drip from her hands, and finally, Ivy making the flower in the corner of the room bloom, it's white and red flower opening in the dull firelight. Rowan burst out laughing at the last one, but Cassandra could see the fragility in the sound as she ran her fingers through Ivy’s short hair.

“What do we do now?” Nate asked, looking at Rowan.

“Why are you asking me? Holly’s the oldest” She blinked at him, and Holly shook her head.

“And you are the one who has the most experience here Roe. Callum and Mira were kind enough to take us in, but other than the fact that we know there are elves and magic, we are walking blind” She countered. “You have dealt with more than us.”

Rowan took a deep breath. “Then we get you to Haven. I can raven Tab and see if he can be your escort, while my advisors will await your arrival”

“What about you?” Nate asked, frowning. “Arent you coming back with us?”

“I can't” Rowan seemed pained to say and Ivy squeezed her hand. “I have people counting on me to help, and if I leave...”

“Then your cause is lost” Holly finished. She nodded and looked to Rowan’s soulmates, eyeing each of them now that she knew who they were. “You will take care of my sister?”

“With our lives Mistress Kent” Cassandra vowed and Rowan’s eyes shot to her, fire reflected in them. Solas murmured agreement from his shadows and Varric gave the oldest Kent a nod.

“Then, you are welcome to sleep here tonight. It's too dangerous for you to travel at night here.” Holly motioned at Poppy, who hurried to a nearby chest. She pulled a series of blankets from the chest, each one of them made of irregular patchwork pieces. She began to pile them in a star pattern on the floor, with one blanket apiece.

Rowan raised a brow at the hoard and Holly laughed. “I’ve been making them for the others. The clothes too ripped to wear are recycled and people bring me the scraps. It's a slow process, but better than nothing. Now, it's getting late and you have an early morning tomorrow” She stood and kissed Rowan’s forehead, before toddling off to her bed, with Ivy following close behind.

Nate muttered his ‘goodnight’s, hugging Rowan before leading a yawning Poppy to their own bed.

As her siblings curled into their blankets, Rowan’s shoulders dropped from their confident position until she was slumping with her head in her hands.

“You alright Thunder?” Varric ventured quietly, placing Bianca next to him as he sat on his ‘bed’. Cassandra joined him on the floor, taking the opposite side as Solas went last to sit on his blanket.

“I’ll be fine” She sighed and leaned back into the wooden chair. “Let’s get some sleep” She grabbed her blanket form the floor and instead of joining them on the floor, she draped it over her legs as she wiggled in the chair to get comfortable.

Solas and Varric exchanged looks as Cassandra stared at Rowan before nodding and laying on her blanket, sword placed next to her head.

Rowan faked sleep until she felt time had passed enough that the others had fallen asleep before blinking open her eyes and walking outside to write her letters, ignorant of the glowing eyes watching from Solas’ bedroll.

Chapter Text

Rowan didn't sleep much that night.

Her letters didn't take long to write, but the contents kept Rowan's attention, long past the last drop of ink on her quill. The first letter was to her advisors, informing them of the discovery that her siblings were not only alive, but lived in the very area the Inquisition was inhabiting. Not to mention, they would have to have the same teaching Rowan was receiving, now that it was very clear each of them, and likely the baby Holly carried, were mages.

Oh, Cullen was gonna have a shit-fit.

The second letter, much more casually written, went to Mr. Tab. Her siblings needed an escort, and he had already told her that he could be used. Admittedly, her siblings would probably look at her funny for sending a bandit king to escort them, but Tab was (mostly) trustworthy. Plus, if his wife had anything to do with it, Rowan's siblings might learn a few things.

The letters were sent as soon as Rowan could find the spare birds, lent from one of Corporal Vale's scouts. The first, an old, beady-eyed bird, nibbled gently on her fingers as she attached the scroll to his leg. The second was young and liked sweets a bit much, if her weight was any indication. The scout giggled at the birds were let loose, telling Rowan that their names were 'Old Jack' and 'Ophelia'. Rowan hid a smile at the revelation, and thanked the scout, making her blush.

Was everyone in Thedas so cute?

She wandered for the rest of the night, watching some go into tents, while others came out of their houses. Hunters kept the fires, although she saw very little meat pass amongst them.

"Excuse me, serrah" A voice from behind her made her jump and she turned to see a young man, dressed in leathers and hastily sewn furs. "Have you any spare hunters in your group?"

"I'm sorry, we don't" Rowan said, uncertainty. "Why? What's going on?"

"We don't have any meat left" The hunter said, sighing. "Our people are used to wild animals, maybe the occasional bandit, but not- this. Demons and templars and mages? No ordinary hunter can deal with such things"

Rowan felt her heart sink. Cassandra had said that the hunters were having difficulty, but this? The hunters were barely her age, and even then, Rowan was only here due to her soulmates and their training.

“Do you have a map?” Rowan blurted, making both her and the hunter blink as she continued. “My group is heading towards Master Dennet’s farm, maybe we could...?”

The man lit up and led her quickly over to his fire, where his men were more than happy to tell her what they needed.

The rest of the night passed quickly as people heard of a woman willing to help, and Rowan winced at the realization that her soulmates would know exactly what Rowan had been doing instead of sleeping.

Soon enough, Rowan saw the sun rise, the crimson and golden rays lighting the mountains like a crown.

Here comes the sun, do do dododo, here comes the sun, and I say "it's alright".

"Your Worship" A voice sounded from her side and Rowan looked up to see the Corporal standing there, with a frowning Cassandra's at his side.

"Good Morning Corporal Vale" She replied and stood slowly, her back protesting from where she had been sitting for the last three hours with the hunters. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Rowan" Cassandra's said warningly, narrowing her eyes. "Have you been here all night?"

Rowan bit her lip and smiled as her new hunting friends snickered at her expense. "Perhaps. I couldn't sleep, and the men here were all too happy to keep me company. I even learned a few things."

The Seeker huffed and eyed her soulmates companions. “And what did you learn?”

“More than one way to skin a nug?” Rowan quipped and one of the hunters whistled, tossing her a skinning knife that she caught with one hand. Cassandra blinked at the gesture and the fact that Rowan quickly shoved the knife into a holster in the middle of her back. “No really. They’ve been teaching me how to field dress animals in the wild and how to properly skin them. It's been a very informative few hours. Especially since this is the second batch of men to teach me.”

“Well,” Cassandra breathed. “That certainly is one way to do it.”

“Yer girl here is a fast learner,” One of the older hunters said, stitching together a few skins. “Plus she taught us a few things.” He held up his project, a ram-skin vest with crooked, but small, stitches. Rowan hummed as he handed it over and checked over the stitches, fingers inspecting the key points.

“Getting there Corman. Nice job on the shoulders, but the sides could use some work. Not bad though” She handed the vest back and Cassandra found herself almost jealous at the smile Rowan gave the old hunter.

“Thank ye Miss Rowan” The hunter, Corman, said. “I’ll make sure we have some armor for yer men when ye get back”

“Thank you, Corman. Now, Cassandra” Rowan turned back to her soulmate and linked their arms, smiling up at her. “Let's talk about Master Dennet.”

It was soon apparent that Rowan was taking the lead of both the conversation and the situation as Cassandra witnessed several scouts taking problems to Rowan, and the young woman giving quiet advice as they walked with Corporal Vale to the ‘War Table’, where Solas and Varric were waiting for them.

Solas did not look happy.

“You did not sleep” The older mage stated, looking at Rowan disapprovingly. “We are moving out as soon as the mounts are ready and-”

“I am aware of my decision Solas” Rowan interrupted, her hand tightening a bit in Cassandra’s. “And I am well aware of the repercussions. Now, if we can get away from my insomnia and focus on how to get there, I would appreciate it.” The tone in her voice brooked no argument, and Varric snorted at her still pleasant expression.

Solas sighed and nodded. “As you wish” He agreed. “You will, however, get a full night sleep tonight after we arrive.”

The two mages stared each other down, with Rowan’s face still holding a smile.

“If I can manage it, I will.” Rowan acquiesced.

“Which she won't,” A familiar voice said from behind her. Holly pressed a kiss to Rowan’s cheek as she came up next to her, before fixing her with a look. “She doesn't sleep well alone and sleeps even less in strange areas. Camping trips were a nightmare when we were younger until we found her sneaking into Nates tent when she was seven.”

“To be fair” Rowan defended, letting go of Cassandra and giving Holly a one-armed hug. “There were rumors of ghosts, and I was seven.”

“Then we will have someone with you to help you sleep,” Solas said, eyeing the two sisters.

“Fine” Rowan griped and pulled out a chair for Holly to sit in. “Now, how are we getting to Dennet?”

“Due to the large amount of fighting, you are going to be going the long way around. It will take about 15 hours, compared to the normal eight.” Vale quiet made a route using a piece of thread and needles. “Going up the hill, there will be a small area big enough to make camp. Five of my people will follow you this far, along with your secondary group. They will make the camp while the rest of you move on past Lake Luthias into the Avvar Blade Valley. There have been rumors of outlaws in these areas, so be wary. Many of them have archers and long ranged fighters.”

“Any mages?” Rowan asked, watching the thread Vale would around the next needle.

“No mages, but there are going to likely be a few Templars” Vale answered, moving on. “After the Valley, you will be going into the Hafter’s Woods. One main way of telling if you have reached it is the monument to Tyrdda Bright-Axe. It's a large marble structure with pillars surrounding it. By then, it should be nightfall, and you can rest there. Not far is a camping area, hidden away from those who don't know how to look. Then, finally, after the Hafter’s Woods is the Western Outskirts. It's not as hilly and will be an almost straight shot to Redcliffe Farms” He finished, tying a knot on the final needle.

Rowan took a deep breath, looking at the map. It was going to be a long journey and her leg was going to be sore when they finished. It appeared that Holly had the same idea, as her sister squeezed her hand after Vale finished.

“Well then,” She breathed. “That doesn't sound awful at all.”

Her leg hurt already.

Chapter Text

Hello everyone!

So, this isn't actually a chapter, unfortunately, but it is an update. Whether its a good update or not depends on you all!

When I first started writing Home Is Where the Heart Is, the original premise was showing the interpersonal relationships between the Inquisitor and the Companions, and the effects it would have on them. I made Rowan with the knowledge of wanting a complex character with a backstory as rich as the story she went into.

And to be honest, she doesn't feel right yet. 

So, in light of this, and the fact that I have been away from HIWTHI from so long, I have decided to re-write it! This time, instead of trying to rush out chapters when I have time and then realizing its not how I wanted the story to lead, I will be going with a much more balanced schedule, that hopefully won't involve me waking up at 2 in the morning on days I work (which is now). With my full-time job and the fact that I walk about 3 miles to and from work, I am hoping to write 1000 words per day, but have at least 3000-4000 words per chapter, making them a bit more detailed and hopefully making the story a little less disjointed. 

My hope for the new story, A Dictionary of Heartless Words (Said in a Loving Tongue), is that the first chapter goes up late June, with the first 10 chapters following every other day, until we have a good, solid basis. From then on, I will be trying my hardest to post chapters every week, most likely on Sunday, so I can polish and edit as I need to.

HIWTHI will be staying up, but this will be the last 'chapter' of the story.

I hope you like my new Rowan and her story!

If you want to talk about things, I do remind you that I have a writing tumblr at twirlinginthefade and a main tumblr at demonlollipop! Feel free to come say hi, I love hearing from you all.