With the accuracy of one raised with the knowledge that a miss could result in not eating that day, Fen'lath removed her dragonbone and silverite helm and hurled it. It crashed into the desk her people had set up in the holding Stone-Bear had given the Inquisition to use, shattering the inkwell and vase she had been aiming for. Ink and water splattered over the letters waiting for her, broken bits of glass, pottery, and bruised flowers scattering across the splatters.

Trembling, she ran her fingers through her hair, taking deep breaths and pushing away the sibilant whispers of the Rage demons pressing against the Veil. The last thing she needed was to lose control and let one of them in. Angry tears burned under her eyelids, and the comments from Cassandra, Dorian, and even Ameridan rang in her ears.

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra stood in the doorway, uncertain, but unintimidated by the display of anger.

"In Haven, you asked me, if there's no room for one more among the Dalish gods. Do you remember?" Fen rasped out, turning towards Cassandra, stalking to her and sticking an accusing finger in her face. "You asked me, as if it would somehow make a difference in how the Dalish are treated if we were to just slip the Maker in amongst our own."

"I don't understand?" The Seeker stepped back, taken off-guard by the vitriol in Fen's voice.

"Ameridan! He worshipped our gods and the Maker, there were elves who worshipped both in the original Chantry and Seekers, and it changed nothing! Our land, the land your prophetess promised us without condition, was torn from us for not bowing to your Chantry!"

With a snarl, Cassandra stepped forward, "The Dales left Orlais to fight the Blight alone!"

"Tell me, Cassandra, if you were to hear that Tevinter massacred an entire village of people who wouldn't even take up arms against them, and then some time after, they asked for help against a Blight, indicating that the military leader responsible for that slaughter would be leading the forces against the darkspawn, would you trust them?"

"What does this have to do with the Dales?"

"Answer the question, Cassandra."

Cassandra's deep brown eyes raked over Fen. "I would not trust them, I admit."

"Then why, pray tell, do you believe the Dales should have just fallen in line under Kordillus Drakon after he slaughtered the Daughters of Song? I know they weren't elven, but I've read about them all the same."

The Seeker reared back. "They were heretics!"

"According to whom? There was no one speaking directly for your Maker then, and if my reading at Haven and Skyhold is correct, Drakon just killed anyone who didn't accept his way. There were elves that followed the Creators and the Maker. The Blight was an excuse his Chantry used to send an Exalted fucking March into another sovereign nation for not toeing their line."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, and her jaw worked. Fen could tell she was fighting with her temper after having her faith questioned.

Fen turned back to her desk and leaned on the edge, avoiding the mess of water and ink. "With every new thing I learn, Cassandra… I like your Andraste, but Creators help me, I do not like many of your Andrastians."

"Inquisitor… Fen'lath-"

"Do you think the Chantry will decide that I was martyred in their name killing Corypheus before or after I morph into an elf from the Wycome alienage? When will they decide I was Andrastian instead of Dalish?"

The Seeker remained silent. After meeting Ameridan, and knowing personally what had happened with Shartan, she couldn't in good conscience say that wouldn't happen.

"After that, how many years until it's unacceptable for the Herald of Andraste to have been an elf at all, and they cut off my ears like they did with Shartan and Ameridan? What age will it be when I'm an oddly named human woman who was called to the Conclave by the Maker to strike down the high priest of the false god Dumat wielding the power of a false elvhen god?"

"I don't know, Fen'lath. But I give you my word, when I rebuild the Seekers…" She shifted uncomfortably, struggling with the admission that the Chantry had buried the elves in their history, "I will make sure to record all of this as accurately as I can, and this will all be made public. Josephine will be informed. Mages and elves will be welcomed, as they were before."

"Thank you, Cassandra." Fen rubbed her forehead. "Every time I get a glimpse of what we were… We were a mighty people once. The Dalish had a home, our people weren't shoved into the worst corners and spat on as vermin while the cities around us were raised on the labor of our backs. Elves are slaves in everything but name in Orlais."

"I wish I could disagree with you." Leaning against the desk next to Fen, Cassandra asked, "Do you ever question your faith?"

Fen let out a short laugh, "All the time. But I would rather question my faith and try to find the answers in the flaws than follow blindly."

Cassandra grunted. "I will try to be more open-minded when it comes to the Dalish beliefs. You have been forced by circumstance into a position considered to be part of the Chantry, so it is only fair, I suppose."

Fen placed a gentle hand on the Seeker's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cassandra nodded to her. Under her breath, Fen muttered, "You'd better."