"My dearest cousin," the note began. "I'm hoping that first and foremost you'll be pleased I'm alive, and did not die in the explosion at the temple. I know it's been...a bit longer than acceptable for me to give you this news. A lot has happened, which I dare not send in a note. I trust this bird well enough, but I know not what may befall it. You may find me at Haven. And please, make haste. -Sophia"
"Bullshit," Eleanor laughed aloud to her mabari, Rook. "This is way too formal! Either this is a trap, or someone wrote this for her." She reached over to tousle his fur and pulled her map from her pocket. From her location she was only a few days travel if she rode most of the night. She dared not risk riding during the day, with Templars slaughtering mages at every crossroad. She had been in hiding since just after the catastrophe in Kirkwall and did not intend to join the fray now. Not while she traveled alone.
She felt simultaneous anger and relief at the knowledge of her cousin's safety-if she were, in fact, safe, and this was not a trick. She had not been a member of Anders' inner circle by any means, but had volunteered in his clinic in Lowtown, and it was only a matter of time before someone brought her name into question. Perhaps this was their way of luring her in. She had, however, been planning to go to Haven anyways, to...to what? Avenge Sophia? She hadn't even gotten that far. She chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek and contemplated. She was getting tired of sleeping on a dirty bedroll and eating the same things every night. She longed for a bath and a change of clothes. Besides, it would be nice to know what was going on in the world. She glanced up at the ominous green chasm in the sky that she knew to be somewhere over her destination.
"What do you think, Rook?" the dark mabari looked up at her curiously and whined. There was no question that he could keep up if she took a grueling pace. He had been her father's, who had trained Rook vigorously as a hunting dog. "Should we risk it?" The sun began to sink into the horizon and she stood and stretched. Rook wagged his tail, eager to move.
"Right then," she nodded. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."
Four days later
Eleanor was surprised, upon reaching the village, just how lively it seemed to be. If it were an ambush, it was either a very poor one, or incredibly cunning. She could hear what sounded to be an entire royal court's worth of activity before she could even see the entire mass of building. There had been no point in trying to sneak into the village; it was set high in the Frostbacks and they had seen her coming from miles away. As she got closer she could hear laughter, the clanking of metal, and she smelled cooking meat. She hadn't dared light a fire while she had been traveling, and the smell of warm food made her stomach growl.
Fuck it, she thought. If this is a trap, they can have me, so long as they feed me.
Exhausted, she made her way to the gates of the stronghold, where she was greeted by two scouts in matching green uniforms. Their faces were partially covered and they eyed her from above their masks.
"Halt! Please identify yourself."
"Er-my name is-"
"ELEANOR!" she heard Sophia's giddy shout from inside the gates and her chest swelled with relief. "Open the gates you daft arse, I TOLD you I was expecting my cousin!" The gates slowly creaked open and Sophia burst through them eagerly, grabbing Eleanor in her arms and squeezing her. "I knew you'd be here! It feels like it's been years! You look so weary! Come inside, come inside!"
Eleanor thought of how she must look after four days of intense travel and felt shame. Her dark hair was wild from riding and her blue eyes were heavy with fatigue. Her cobalt robes were dirty and slightly frayed, and there was a tear where the hem had caught on nettle. Sophia, on the other hand, was looking radiant and her dark eyes shone as she directed the guards to take Eleanor's horse. They bowed in deference to her and departed.
"So you're alive, thank the Maker," Eleanor breathed, changing the subject while subtly combing her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. "I wasn't sure-"
"I know, and I'm so bloody sorry for that. A lot has happened. I promise, I'm going to tell you everything. Look!" Sophia held out her left hand; her palm was glowing green. Eleanor recoiled. She had not been aware that magic ran in their family, and she wondered who else knew.
"You're...a mage, too?"
"No! I mean, well, yes, actually, but this is something different. Oh hello Rook!" Sophia knelt down to rub Rook behind the ears. "I'm so glad you brought him with you!" she rose and grabbed Eleanor's hand, leading her through the village.
"This is the courtyard. Back there's the stable where they will take your horse to rest. Come on!" she eagerly led Eleanor up a small flight of stairs to another small courtyard. There was a large building in the center of the square.
"This is the Chantry," she pointed at the main tower, "And the war room is off to the side that way, and over here is where our soldiers train," she grinned. She stood looking proud of the town, an air of command about her.
"The mark, Sophia? What is it? Are you hurt?" Eleanor rubbed her temples impatiently. As glad as she was to see her cousin, hunger and fatigue kept her fuse short. Sophia was notoriously bubbly and often flitted from subject to subject quickly; Eleanor did not currently have the attention span to keep up.
"No! It's actually a good thing. They're calling me the Herald of Andraste!" she snickered, as if the name were something trivial. Eleanor's jaw dropped in disbelief. The last thing she'd expected was to find her cousin starting a cult, though given what she had heard from scouring journals and reports about the Hero of Ferelden's adventures, Sophia could not have picked a more appropriate setting for such a following.
"What? Goodness, could I at least have a drink before we get into this?" the tension was mounting in her voice though she was trying to keep herself steady.
"Oh bloody hell of course you can! I'm so sorry, I'm sure you're exhausted. Here, we have a tavern right through here," she attempted to guide Eleanor through a doorway under a sign marked "The Singing Maiden", where Eleanor crashed into someone trying to come out. Papers scattered on the floor and several pages landed in the dirty snow outside.
"For fuck's sake, watch where you're going!" the voice snapped. Eleanor winced and stepped backwards, leaving room for the man to gather his papers. He glanced up briefly and blood rushed to his face as he realized his mistake. Rook growled protectively, maneuvering himself in front of his mistress to confront the man.
"Oh maker, I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I thought you were-Herald! Well I'm just making a grand impression today. I'm so, so sorry," he stood and attempted, unsuccessfully, to dust himself off. He silently cursed himself for not having shaved in the last couple of days and suddenly became very aware of the scar running down from his cheek to his upper lip.
"Rook, shhh, it's okay. And you should be!" Sophia huffed. "This is my cousin, Cullen. Her name is Eleanor and you had BETTER be nice to her! And we've known each other for weeks now, you can call me by my NAME already, even Josie does!"
He flushed and met Eleanor's worn-out gaze. He smiled nervously and she felt more conscious of how messy she must look. Her eyes fixed on the dimple in his left cheek as he smiled, abashed.
"I don't-have we-I'm so sorry. I'm Cullen Rutherford, and I'm the Commander of the Inquisition's forces." he extended his hand. Eleanor felt a hint of recognition in his voice, and he seemed slightly familiar, but she could not place him.
"It's alright," she said quietly. "I'm Eleanor." His hand was rough and scarred from battle, yet his grip was light and warm. Her hand tingled slightly and she pulled it backwards.
"And I told him that already," Sophia smirked. "Come on now, I promised you drinks didn't I? Cullen, we'll be at the war table in, let's say an hour? Clean yourself up a bit yeah?" she laughed as his cheeks flushed again. Eleanor laughed for what felt like the first time in weeks and followed Sophia into the tavern, eager for a drink.
"Andraste's dimpled ass! If it isn't Snowflake!" Eleanor heard the dwarf before she could see him—the light inside the tavern was coming in through slatted shades that were almost completely closed. There was only one person who had ever referred to the ice mage as Snowflake.
"Is that-"
"Varric! Should have guessed I'd find you in here," Sophia laughed. The dwarf slowly came into focus as Eleanor's eyes adjusted to the dim light and she chuckled and shook her head. She was happier than she'd expected to be to see another friendly face. Though they had not been extremely close, she gathered Varric in a warm hug, taking care to maneuver around the crossbow he had strapped across his back. They had both frequented a bar in Kirkwall called the Hanged Man. Varric was often busy with the Champion of Kirkwall, but they had shared quite a few chummy conversations over mugs of beer during his rare down time.
"I haven't seen you since...well, since just before everything went to shit in Kirkwall! Glad to see you didn't get wrapped up in all of that." Varric sat at the nearest table and smacked the spot next to him, indicating that they should follow. Eleanor slid onto the bench next to him and slumped forward slightly, glad to be still and seated. Rook laid at her feet, falling asleep almost instantly.
"Yeah, it was a close one," Eleanor shook her head, not wanting the images of the town turning on itself to linger. Visions of fire, of templars and mages killing each other in the streets, swam through her head and she closed her eyes, trying to regain her thoughts.
"I knew that they were trying to track down the Herald's cousin, but I had no idea that you were her. Small world." he laughed.
"I'll go get us some drinks, and maybe some food," Sophia offered. The title made her slightly uncomfortable; she was still not fully used to her new-found status. She scurried towards the bar and Eleanor turned towards Varric.
"I have to admit I'm surprised to see you here," she raised an eyebrow. "I would've thought you would meet up with Hawke and Anders, join them on the run." Varric shook his head in protest, a disgusted look on his face.
"First off, I don't want to be around those two lovebirds when they're finally getting some alone time." Eleanor laughed loudly. She had missed his bluntness.
"And secondly," he continued, "to be honest...I don't even know where they are, or what's happened to them. Anders couldn't stick around for more than what seemed like a few minutes after the Knight Commander was dealt with, and Hawke, well. You know she wouldn't let him go alone." his eyes glanced downward and he rubbed his forehead, deep in thought. Eleanor frowned. Varric and Hawke had been inseparable for nearly ten years, and not being with his best friend was obviously taking its toll. The wrinkles around his eyes and forehead were deeper, and there were bags under his eyes which indicated he did not get a lot of sleep these days.
"But what about you?" he looked up and spoke quickly, changing the subject. "I know Stringbean had a hell of a time tracking you down." Eleanor snorted.
"Stringbean? Is that supposed to be-"
"Yes, me," Sophia returned, sighing exasperatedly and grasping three mugs by the handles. She set them down carefully, so as not to spill, and gestured to a server behind her who set down a tray with meat, cheese, and fruits. Eleanor's stomach growled again and she had to force herself not to dive face-first into the platter. She took an apple off the tray and began to slice it with a small dagger from her belt.
"I think it suits you," she shrugged, smirking at her tiny cousin. Sophia was only just taller than the tallest dwarves and Varric was known for his ironic nicknames. Sophia rolled her eyes and took a long drink.
"So, what happened to you after you left Kirkwall?" Varric asked.
"Well, I went to Denerim for a bit," she said in between bits of cheese. She cleared her throat. "It started getting bad there, though. Just like in Kirkwall, before..." she sighed. "Anyways, then I heard about what happened at the conclave, and I just felt so guilty." She looked at Sophia, frowning. "I thought you were dead, and I left Denerim for Haven. I intended to find whatever, or whoever was responsible. I guess it was lucky you were here since I was already on my way." Sophia bit her lip and ran her fingernail through a groove in the wooden table.
"I wrote to you as soon as I could, I promise," she said quietly. She began to explain the events of the last three weeks: how she had been at the conclave but could not remember; how she had been physically in the fade somehow, how when she had emerged they told stories of Andraste herself guiding Sophia out of the fade. How it had scarred her with the green mark on her hand, which in turn was able to close fade rifts which had been popping up thanks to the massive breach in the sky. How she had helped close some of these rifts and inadvertently discovered she had magical abilities, but was unsure yet of how to completely control them, which is why she was desperate for Eleanor's help. She concluded with the official formation of the Inquisition, in an attempt to create some stability and search for a way to end the civil war raging between the Templars and Magi.
"And, that's where we are now," she sighed, draining the last of her ale. "I'm supposed to go to Val Royeaux in a week to address the Chantry mothers. They're denouncing us, calling us heretics."
"Was it really Andraste?" Eleanor's eyes were wide, and her head was light, thanks to the beer.
"I can't remember," Sophia shrugged.
"What do you think, Varric?" Eleanor nudged him. He rolled his eyes.
"I think this shit is weird," he snorted. "I also think we need another round." Eleanor stood and stretched, enjoying the sensation of a full stomach once again.
"I think I'll take a rain check actually. I need to bathe and change before we go to...what was it? The war room?"
"Yes! That's right, we were supposed to meet them. Well, I'll send word that we can put it off another hour. You take your time and clean up, get comfortable. I'm going to take Varric up on this second round. Your room is in the Chantry, last door on the right. I've already had some clothing sent up for you." Sophia beamed. Eleanor swelled with gratitude and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. Rook jumped up and followed her through the door.
Once outside, Eleanor squinted as her eyes struggled to readjust to daylight after being in the dim tavern for so long. She walked slowly up to the Chantry, taking a last look up at the breach. If she hadn't known it was evil, it was almost beautiful. She snapped out of it when she saw someone approaching the Chantry and realized she was in their way. It was Cullen again, though he looked much less angry, and he had changed from his dusty clothing.
"Eleanor, hello. I was just on my way to the War Room for the meeting, shall I walk with you?" he held the door open.
"Oh, no, thank you," she said quickly. A look of disappointment crossed his face, though he quickly regained himself and replaced it with confusion.
"I didn't mean-not like that," she shook her head. "I'm sorry. Sophia meant to send word that the meeting is postponed another hour because I desperately want to take a bath." She could feel her cheeks burning. She stared at the ground. Cullen chuckled quietly.
"No harm done. I'll inform the others. Thank you for telling me. I'll see you in an hour, then?" She nodded, raising her eyes slightly to meet his. He was still smirking, showing off that dimple, and Eleanor felt light-headed again. He turned on his heel and exited, leaving her alone in the large hall. She rushed into the room Sophia had directed her to use and was overwhelmed at how comfortable the bed looked. It took all of her willpower not to flop onto it right there and pass out.
There was a small wooded wardrobe in which several robes and outfits were hanging, and next to it a door led to a small bathing room, where a bath was already waiting. Thank the Maker for you, Sophia, she thought to herself. Rook laid down at the food of the bed and began snoring almost immediately. Eleanor discarded her dirty robes and slid into the water, ready to soak away days worth of travel before she was to meet her cousin in the War Room.