Chapter One

He put his right palm over his eye and rubbed hard, but the pain persisted – sharp and heavy as if it was a real dagger. When he opened his eyes all he could see were red spots dancing before him.

"Are you all right, Cullen?" the dark-haired woman he was traveling with asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Now why is it that you never ask me if I'm alright, Seeker?" the dwarf standing beside Cullen interrupted with a pout.

"I'm fine," Cullen replied, as he fought against the nausea he was feeling at the moment.

"Sure, you are! That shade of green looks good on you, Curly," the dwarf chuckled.

"Varric, if you do not shut up, I'll shut you up," the Seeker glared.

"Just a headache, really," Cullen gave them both a weak smile. "Nothing more." He took a deep breath of crisp, cool mountain air and felt the pain ease a little.

"We are not far from Haven, but there is a tavern just up the hill. We are stopping there to eat and rest. Leliana – Sister Nightingale – said she would meet us there," the woman said.

Cullen frowned. A tavern on the way to Haven. It would be full. A great deal of mages and templars were marching past them towards Haven. The Conclave was to be held in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but not for at least another week. Consequently, the growing crowds of people were overflowing Haven at the moment. Cullen guessed that the noise in that tavern would be unbearable. Not something to come across at all when you have a pounding headache.

"Lady Cassandra, I – I don't think…er…my headache…" He trailed off for the Seeker had turned abruptly to face him with a frown.

"Nonsense. You will feel better if you eat and we must meet up with Leliana," she replied curtly. "We're meeting with the Divine at the Chantry in Haven and you must feel better to do that."

"He said he had a headache, Seeker," Varric interrupted. "And now you've gone and told him about the meeting. No pressure, right? Because pressure isn't what makes headaches worse."

Cassandra glared at Varric and he shrugged nonchalantly, then winked at her. "Ugh!" the Seeker managed to get out through clenched teeth as she scowled at the dwarf, who was now grinning up at her.

Before the whole thing could escalate, however, Cullen swayed on his feet. This worried Cassandra, who rushed to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Leliana said she would rent a room. I'll have some stew prepared for you and send it up, Cullen. Will that do?"

"I would appreciate it, Lady Cassandra," Cullen smiled.

"Please stop calling me that," Cassandra replied shaking her head sternly. "We will be working together after all and I am not a lady."

"Nope," Varric muttered under his breath.

Cullen inclined his head, giving her a short nod as they reached the tavern. When they opened the door and walked inside, the din was deafening. Cullen sighed as his bleary eyes scanned the place, the throbbing pain in his head reaching an all-time high.

He hated it when he was right.

…

Beatrix Trevelyan slammed the door behind her. She took deep breaths to control herself and started pacing the room angrily.

They wouldn't let her go to the Conclave, would they? Well, she was twenty-two years old now and didn't have to do what they asked her to do, did she? Her older brother Andras was going, why couldn't she? Initiate? They wanted her to become an initiate? They wanted to make her go to the Chantry? Isolate her from life itself? She gave a growl, her cheeks a bright red, the beginnings of a headache making her wince slightly. She rubbed her temples vigorously, willing it to go away.

"Your brother is a templar," her mother had said in a calm tone. "He's going because he has been ordered to go."

"Duty is difficult at times, princess, but it is what we do as a family. The Trevelyans will always put duty first. Remember that," her father had chimed in.

She found herself wondering what had prompted her return to Ostwick in the first place. Traveling around Orlais and the Free Marches for a few years had made her strong. Even though she made it a point to write to her parents and her brother, she had loved the sense of freedom. Learning the basics of combat fighting had helped her immensely. She thanked the Maker that her Instructors had insisted on actual combat – something her parents were not aware of when they had agreed to send her to the University of Orlais. They thought that she had gone to study History and she had kept the truth from them even when she traveled around the Free Marches. Of course she'd been studying the History of Andraste and Orlais while she was there, but she had never told them she had also been taking lessons to defend herself with daggers and a bow.

Sighing deeply, she went to her wardrobe and started throwing things into a backpack. She knew that it would break her parents' hearts, but she could not, would not go quietly and turn her back on life the way they wanted her to. She would die of boredom in a Chantry. She had never been as pious as her mother or older brother and she seriously doubted that she would be a good Initiate - not even a fair one to be quite honest.

Once she was packed, she walked down the hallway to the sitting room where her parents were. Her father was reading and her mother was drinking tea and put her cup down with a smile as she walked into the spacious room. Her little brother, Maximillian, laughed when she appeared, looking up at her with adoration. She smiled down at the eight-year-old, setting her backpack down on the floor for a moment.

"I see you've already packed," her father acknowledged.

"I'm not going to the Chantry," Beatrix said firmly, her voice calm.

The only sound heard in the room at that moment, was the fire crackling merrily as it burned steadily in the fireplace. Even her younger brother was still. Her mother then broke the silence with a sigh as she reached for her tea, her hand trembling slightly.

"I can't go there," Beatrix continued, the tremor in her voice belying her calm appearance and demeanor. "You both know that it's not the life for me."

"And flinging your life at danger is?" Her father shot back, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You want to keep me safe, I understand, father, I truly do! But you cannot keep me locked up somewhere in order to do this. You know I would simply cease to be myself. Are you ready to see me turn into a shadow of what I am? Do you honestly want this for me?" Beatrix quietly countered, her sapphire eyes holding her father's dark blue ones.

Her father stood up, his eyes flashing angrily. "Beatrix! You think you know what the world is like, but you do not! At this moment, a war between the mages and templars makes traveling nearly impossible!"

"I will keep to the roads with people around. I will be careful. I'll take a ship to Ferelden and then board a wagon," Beatrix said as her father turned around and faced the fireplace.

"I'll have no way to protect you." Her father's voice was nearly a whisper.

Beatrix felt the tears, but controlled herself. She stepped closer and put her arms around him. "Papa," she said in a very low voice. "I love you and mother, but I must do this. I don't know why I have to do this, only that I must be at the Conclave."

"Perhaps the Maker is showing you something that He hasn't shown us," her mother interrupted. "We must keep our faith strong, Alexander."

He turned and held his daughter tightly, while sighing deeply. After a while he broke the hug and held her by her shoulders at arm's length, looking at her lovingly.

"I cannot stop you from going if your heart is set on it and maybe your mother is right," he sighed again.

"Promise you'll write to us dear," her mother said standing beside her.

Beatrix took her time holding them both close to her heart, the tears glistening in her eyes. When she hugged Maximillian, she gave him a tight squeeze and he was frowning when she let go.

"I will."

…

Dearest father and mother,

My journey to Ferelden was quite uneventful, even though the ship was caught in stormy waters. The storm actually helped us reach Ferelden much faster. We docked in Gwaren, and I took a wagon to Haven, the last one available as a matter of fact! It was extremely crowded, but the journey wasn't unpleasant at all – maybe because I was looking forward to our destination?

As soon as we arrived in Haven, I tried booking a room at the local inn but failed. I figured this would happen so I bought materials to pitch a tent overlooking the frozen lake. I honestly thank the Maker for giving me the insight to pack warm clothes and blankets. The fact that I already knew how to pitch a tent helped immensely. Everyone is too busy with their own thoughts and concerns and nobody has even looked in my direction.

The Conclave is to be held tomorrow, so I am hurrying to finish this missive as quickly as possible. My first impression of Haven was that it wasn't what I thought it would be. The little town is charming, covered in snow and the frozen lake in the background paints a pretty picture indeed. However, it's full to the brim with people, mainly mages, templars and Chantry priests and priestesses. There seems to be a military organization centered in the town as well, probably to lend protection to the Divine.

I haven't seen Andras at all, and I've looked for him. He could already be stationed in the Temple of Sacred Ashes. If this is the case, I'll probably meet up with him tomorrow. I can't wait to see him! We've seen so little of him since he joined the templars a few years ago, and he is my favorite brother – but don't tell Maximillian this!

I'll write you right after the Conclave starts. It will be very crowded at the Temple, so I have decided to visit, try to find Andras, and then come back to Haven to wait until the whole thing ends. I'm not patient enough to sit through the peace talks, as you well know!

Missing you!

Your,

Beatrix

…

Darkness all around her. She groans, trying to see something – anything. Her left hand hurts. An eerie green light emanates from it and she cries out from the pain.

Behind her, chittering sounds that some kind of animal would make. Turning her head, her heart stops when she sees the creatures. Many eyes on eight spindly legs. She turns and runs – the adrenaline fueling her.

Looking up, she sees a glowing figure – the figure of a woman. The woman is on top of a cliff and the way to her is steep, but she doesn't care. The chattering spiders are following her closely. If she is to die, she will at least try to reach the figure who is now stretching her hand towards her.

She starts the climb, willing herself not to look back. If she does, she is dead, for she knows that she will freeze with terror because the spiders are getting closer. Desperately, she finds footholds in the jagged rocks and continues her ascent, the figure gazing down at her now growing closer. She is sweating and panting, pushing herself to the limit.

She must reach the top.

When she does, she stretches out her hand towards the woman who is reaching out to her, but it is not enough. Giving a cry, she wills herself forward with all the strength she can muster –

Darkness descends on her.

Eternal darkness.

Is she dead?

A sharp pain wakes her, and she is nearly blinded by the green light coming from her left hand.

Soldiers surround her and point their swords at her.

What? Why?

She passes out again, but this time, she welcomes the darkness.

…

The eerie green mark flared up and woke her again. Looking around, she saw she was in a dungeon and in shackles. The pain in her hand kept her from reacting to her precarious situation. Soldiers dressed in uniform with their swords at the ready surrounded her and after a few moments the door to the dungeon opened and two women walked in.

Her heart started beating – too fast, too loudly, she thought. Beatrix was sure they could hear it. Fear gripped her and she immediately got angry, which is what she always did when she was afraid.

"What is the meaning of this?" She protested with a sneer, looking down at her shackles.

The dark-haired woman bent down and grabbed her left hand roughly and Beatrix bit back a cry. "What is the meaning of this?" she flung back, nostrils flaring – her eyes angry.

Letting go of her hand she stood back up and started to circle Beatrix. The other woman, wearing some kind of coat with a hood, stood silently in the shadows watching them.

"There was an explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and you are the only survivor," the pacing woman continued. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now!"

Beatrix was taken aback, her thoughts on Andras. No survivors. She refused to acknowledge the devastation this statement caused her and the tears that threatened to fall.

"Do you know who I am?" She snarled furiously at both women. "When my father hears of this he will burn your pathetic organization to the ground!"

The dark-haired woman stopped pacing and faced her, her eyes incredulous for a brief moment before the anger twisted her face. But before she could speak or yell, the woman in the hood walked closer and Beatrix finally saw her face and eyes. She reached out to the dark-haired woman, putting a hand on her arm. "We need her, Cassandra," she said in a low voice. Then her light blue eyes fell on Beatrix and she addressed her directly. "You remember what happened at the temple? How you got that mark? What do you remember about the explosion?"

"I – I can't remember," Beatrix faltered for a moment. She bowed her head and for short time looked crestfallen, lost. Then she looked up at the woman who was now interrogating her. "If you let me go, I might remember something," she said with a smirk.

"Ugh! This is pointless!" Cassandra said loudly, the anger making her voice tremble. "She will not tell us!"

"If I tell you what I remember, will you kill me?" Beatrix asked calmly. She was asking Cassandra the question, but she was looking directly at the hooded woman.

"No, we need you alive," the woman replied. "My name is Leliana, and we would like to know what you witnessed."

"No, you wouldn't," Beatrix replied haughtily. "You would like me to tell you that I caused the explosion and killed all those people at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. My brother was a templar stationed there. I wanted to find him, to let him know that I was here. I had no interest in hearing the peace talks. Now tell me, do you still think I did this?" Her voice trembled, the tears now running down her cheeks, unable to hold them back any longer. "Since you require a reply to your questions, I can tell you I remember nothing about the explosion, but I do remember things chasing me in a dark place. And a woman."

"A woman?" Leliana repeated.

"I don't know who she was," Beatrix took a deep breath. She had stopped crying and looked first at Leliana, who was stepping back. Cassandra turned to Leliana and asked her to go to the forward camp. That she would take the prisoner.

"The 'prisoner'?" Beatrix chuckled bitterly. "You people are unbelievable. My name is Beatrix Trevelyan. And I can see you need a scapegoat desperately."

At that moment the mark on her hand flared up and she gave a sharp cry of pain. She failed to see the look of mild surprise that Leliana had on her face for a fleeting moment when she had told them her name. When Beatrix looked up again, Leliana had left the room, leaving her alone with Cassandra, who was taking her shackles off and lifting her to her feet. She quickly used a rope to tie her hands back up again and led her out of the dungeon.

The moment Beatrix stepped outside, she was in a state of shock. The whole sky looked green, the same color as her mark. The green color in the sky was swirling around and at its very core, the light shone brightly. There were also pieces of stone revolving around and very close to the center.

"An explosion did that?" Beatrix asked unbelievably. Cassandra did not reply, but led her down a path. Most of the people who lived in Haven were flanking the way, throwing dark glances at her. She heard some call her 'Murderer' and others exclaim 'Kill the survivor!'

"They need you to be the culprit. The death of our Most Holy has struck everyone hard," Cassandra murmured, barely audible enough for Beatrix to hear.

When they arrived at the gates that led up the mountain, Cassandra unbound her. "Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to the Breach," she said pointing at the swirling thing in the sky. "They say your mark can help us close it. We shall see soon enough."

"'They' say? Who is 'they'?" Beatrix asked with a sneer. "Another secret you wish to keep from me?"

Cassandra did not reply and at that moment, the Breach flared and the mark on Beatrix's hand did the same. She gave a cry, falling to her knees as she clutched her hand in pain.

"Every time the Breach flares up, your mark does the same. It is killing you," Cassandra said quietly. "Come. This is the way to the forward camp. It is not far."

…

Before reaching the forward camp there was a lot of action on the way. Beatrix began to tire – she hated demons, and had nearly wiped herself out from all the fighting when they arrived at an actual rift spewing demons out. She quickly unsheathed the daggers that Cassandra had let her keep for her defense and her exhaustion disappeared as if by magic. There were people fighting the demons and she would not let them die.

As soon as the demons had been dealt with, a bald elf grabbed her hand and shouted out five words to her. "Quickly! Before more come through!" Then he directed her hand at the rift.

Beatrix felt like her whole hand was on fire. Like she was on fire. The pain caused her to cry out as her hand came to life. A brilliant green ray shot out from the mark and the rift exploded into nothingness.

"What the fuck?!" Beatrix exclaimed eloquently as she pulled her hand away, staring at the elf.

The elf smirked back at her and she blinked. "What did you do?" Beatrix added.

"This is a clear case of 'it's not me, it's you,'" said a dwarf approaching them. He was holding a crossbow, so Beatrix took a step back.

"The credit is all yours, I did nothing," the elf said calmly, a faint smile on his lips.

Beatrix was actually struck dumb for a few moments as she stared at the eerie pulsating mark on her hand. "I did that? So, this mark...can do something after all…"

"Indeed," the elf replied. He then started to talk to Cassandra about the possibilities. Beatrix listened attentively, her gaze flitting from one to the other. It seemed that the elf knew a great deal about the mark – maybe even about everything that was happening. Cassandra showed him respect after all.

And if Cassandra – of all people – respected him, it meant a whole lot of something.

…

They fought demons on their way to the forward camp, of course. When they finally reached it, she saw they were on a wide bridge. She sighed as she looked down at her mercenary armor covered in demon ichor. It was disgusting.

They replenished on potions and walked toward a table where Leliana was arguing with a man. He clearly was a cleric and Beatrix sighed inwardly to herself. She was tired, thirsty, hungry and covered in demon gore. She had no patience at the moment to deal with some Chantry bureaucrat.

Of course the Chantry bureaucrat would want her in chains and dragged to Val Royeaux immediately, she thought. The infuriating man went on and on, bickering first with Leliana and then with Cassandra. She felt her temper rising and clenched her fists, trying to control the outburst that was coming. When the mark started to flare to life and the pain enveloped her again, she gave a scream.

"Sonofabitch, Andrastefucker!"

The silence was a bit too much after all the arguing, but she saw Solas smile faintly and heard Varric snort. Leliana turned away briefly, her lips twitching and Cassandra just glared at her. The complaining bureaucrat stared at her, his eyes bulging. Her swearing had effectively silenced him when nothing else could.

The mark stopped pulsing and the pain died down slightly. Beatrix was panting a little, her eyes fixed on the swirling Breach ahead. It was then that Cassandra chose to speak.

"How do you think we should proceed? Take the mountain path or charge with the soldiers?"

Beatrix burst out laughing. Everyone else fixed their eyes on her, Varric grinning and Solas shaking his head with a smile. Once she started laughing, however, she found it hard to stop.

"Ha ha ha!" she sputtered. "Oh, this is priceless! You're asking ME how to proceed? Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"You have the mark," Solas chuckled.

"And we must keep you alive until we reach the Breach," Cassandra added.

She stopped laughing abruptly, and nodded. "Of course. It's the mark on my hand you're protecting, not me at all. Let's charge with your soldiers. If I die, I'll try my best to close the Breach first. I don't think I'll make it to a trial in Val Royeaux anyway."

…

They arrived to another smaller rift where the demons were attacking some of the Inquisition soldiers. Beatrix scowled as she leapt towards the closest one. It was green and had a lot of teeth. Its wail sent a shiver up her spine, but she ignored it as she quickly moved to stealth and sliced at what she thought was its throat, grinning to herself when it slithered into the ground, wailing as it died.

She heard Cassandra's yell of pain as a shade managed to sink its claws into her shoulder. Whirling around, she caught it with one of her daggers and watched as it disappeared into the ground as well. The mark came to life as she held her hand up, pointing to the rift. She felt a pull and tugged, closing the rift with a look of pain on her face.

"Yeah, demonfuckers! I've come to kill you all, so you might not actually want to cross the Veil to slaughter the innocent!"

Everyone around her was staring and she giggled, slightly amused at what she had said. She turned to the dwarf who was beside her when she heard him finally break down and burst out laughing. The elf, Solas, tried to hide the smile on his face, but failed spectacularly. She grinned back at them, while Cassandra shook her head, then hurriedly swallowed the contents of a healing potion.

"Excellent work, Seeker. I see you managed to close the rift."

Beatrix turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes widened slightly.

Maker! Soooo handsome!

"I had nothing to do with it, Commander. This is the prisoner's work, not mine," Cassandra corrected him.

"Really?" The Commander said his eyes opening slightly with surprise. Beatrix frowned at his reaction. "I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people to get you here."

Stupid mother fucker!

"I'm trying my best," Beatrix replied in icy tones, crossing her arms. "Should I DIE to prove it?"

The Commander blushed, all the way to the tip of his ears.

"No! I didn't mean – " his eyes widening. "Maker's Breath!"

Varric snorted and when Beatrix looked at him, she saw he was grinning. She scowled and shook her head, trying to keep herself from snapping at him too.

Stupid temper!

Cassandra ignored this and continued to talk to him about the Temple and his soldiers. Cullen's eyes never left Beatrix's face as he talked and was soon saying goodbye with a "Maker watch you all." As he turned, he saw one of his soldiers limping and hurried over to help him. Beatrix watched this and then turned, staring at the scene before her.

It was a horrific scene. Burnt bodies lay there, some of them looked like they were still screaming silently. She grimaced as she walked forward, the rest following in her wake. She willed herself to look at the Breach instead, wondering how she was going to fix all this.

As soon as they reached the Breach, they noticed a rift directly underneath it. It pulsated and changed form. Leliana joined them and Cassandra asked her to order her men around the walls, ready to engage. As they walked towards the stairs, a booming voice was heard.

"Now is the hour of our victory."

Beatrix stopped in her tracks. Where had she heard that voice before?

Cassandra turned and walked back to Beatrix.

"Are you alright?" she asked, an edge of concern in her voice.

"I've got a mark on my left hand that throbs painfully and am going to probably die, or be taken to Val Royeaux for a trial after this. Why wouldn't I be alright?" she returned sarcastically.

Cassandra pursed her lips and turned around abruptly, shaking her head as she continued to walk. The rest followed in silence until Varric spotted the red lyrium around the place. Beatrix heard the fear and disgust in his voice as he spoke to Cassandra about it. It was obvious that the red lyrium was dangerous and Beatrix kept away from it even before Varric warned her to stay away.

They went down a flight of stairs and as Beatrix approached the pulsating rift, a scene suddenly appeared before them. The Divine was being held with what looked like magical bonds, giving off a reddish glow. Beatrix gasped as she saw herself storm into the place demanding what was going on. Then the whole thing disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared before.

"You were there! The Divine called out to you and you went into the room to help her!" Cassandra exclaimed. "What happened? What were we seeing? Who was talking?"

"I don't know!" Beatrix yelled back at Cassandra. "I can't remember!"

Solas, who had been studying the rift, turned back to them and said that it had to be opened in order to close it properly. This meant that demons would likely come through.

They took their positions and waited as Beatrix directed her glowing hand towards the closed rift. The green beam that suddenly shot out made her want to scream, but she held her arm steady. The rift suddenly opened and a huge Pride demon jumped out. It looked at them all and roared.

Beatrix snarled and whisked out her daggers. If she was going to die, she would not go quietly.

"Let's dance!" she yelled as she attacked, a sardonic smile on her face.

…