Many, many thanks to Fenxshiral for his Project Elvhen (On Ao3, Tumblr). This would not have been the same fic without all his hard work.
Suinassa Lavellan was examining maps on the War Table when she felt a tingling in her left hand. At first, she just ignored it – it was hardly the first time that the Anchor had flared up for no apparent reason, especially in the two years since Corypheus' defeat. But the sensation persisted, and she finally looked down to see if her hand was glowing.
The sight of the stump just below her elbow twisted her stomach. She wasn't used to that sight. She didn't want to get used to it, because that meant accepting that her hand was gone. That meant accepting why her hand was gone.
"Inquisitor?" Cassandra asked. "Are you all right?"
Suinassa's cheeks flushed as she brought her head up and looked at the other faces in the room. Cullen, Varric, and Leliana all wore expressions of concern. They were the last ones remaining of her Inner Circle, some of her closest friends and most trusted confidantes. And she would be losing Varric and Leliana to their duties soon.
One more thing to feel sad about.
Suinassa opened her mouth to reassure Cassandra, and then closed it again. There was no point to giving a false platitude. "I'm - not sure," she replied. "Nothing's wrong, but something is - odd."
"Just what we need," Varric muttered. "More weird shit."
"Perhaps it is some sort of residual magic from the Anchor," Leliana said thoughtfully.
"Maybe." Suinassa still had only the faintest idea of the magic behind the Anchor. "It's like there's something nearby that's causing a - resonance." She shook her head. "I can't describe it any better than that."
"Is there any way to tell what is causing this resonance?" Cassandra asked. "Surely it must be something magical, and that narrows things down."
"Something magical," Suinassa repeated. "Something with some connection to the Anchor." What was still at Skyhold that could fit that scenario?
Cullen cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. "Would it help to - I don't know, walk around? See if the sensation gets stronger in certain places?"
Suinassa and Cassandra turned to look at him, and Cassandra barked out a short laugh. "We are all too used to magical solutions. You are right, Cullen. Let us start walking and see what happens."
"But we should be armed," Leliana said. "In case there is trouble."
Cassandra glared at the former spymaster of the Inquisition. "You will not go anywhere. If there is trouble, we must keep you out of it."
Leliana looked at Cassandra, blue-grey eyes narrowing in determination. "I do not intend to be coddled," she said. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself, as you well know."
"But you are the Divine. We worked too hard to get you there to lose you to – whatever this is," Cassandra replied.
Suinassa sighed. "Leliana, please, Cassandra is right. In fact, you should stay with her and make sure she is safe, in case this – whatever this is – brings trouble."
It was Cassandra's turn to glare, but she had boxed herself into this one - and by the look of resigned chagrin on her face, she knew it. "All right. We will stay here."
Leliana's smile bordered on a smirk. "We will see you back here soon, yes?"
"I certainly hope so," Suinassa replied, nodding to them before she turned to follow Varric and Cullen out the door. She stepped into the Great Hall and paused, trying to figure out which direction she should go. The sensation in her missing left arm pulled her towards the keep's exit, but when she got closer to the door it tugged her to the right – towards the garden.
"A moment, Inquisitor," Cullen said, and darted to the left. Suinassa's guess about his errand was confirmed when he returned with sword and shield, drawing no shortage of stares from the people around them. Suinassa cursed under her breath – she should have thought of that.
"There is no need to worry," she said, projecting her voice. "We are investigating a potential disturbance. If you are presently armed, you are welcome to join us; if not, please return to whatever you were doing. I am certain that whatever this is, it is nothing the forces of the Inquisition cannot handle."
There were a few more murmurs and worried glances before the first person turned away, and Suinassa was relieved to see others follow suit. A handful of fighters stepped forward, nodding first to Cullen, then to Suinassa, some adding a murmured "Your Worship".
Suinassa returned their nods, projecting confidence she did not truly feel. "Thank you all. Please follow me." She led the group into Skyhold's garden, where they drew yet more stares. This time, Varric was the one to raise his voice and reassure the crowd, although in a much more flippant manner than Suinassa.
The Anchor pulled Suinassa to the rooms on the right side of the garden, and when she stopped outside of the door leading to the Eluvian, she knew she was in the right spot.
"Of course," Varric said as they paused outside the door. "That thing interacted with the Eluvians and other weird doorways in the Crossroads."
"But it never acted like this before," Suinassa protested. "Even when the Anchor was there."
"Maybe it wasn't the right circumstances," Varric said. "Maybe something special is happening."
Cullen stepped around her and Varric, raising his shield. "Inquisitor – perhaps you should stay to the back."
Suinassa felt shame flush bright within her. She hated being reminded that she could no longer adequately defend herself. Bow and arrow required two good hands - most weapons did. With all the resources at her disposal, she would find a way to defend herself again - eventually. And in the meantime, it galled her to put her friends in danger that she could not adequately face herself.
Cullen and some of his men brought their shields out and raised their swords, and Varric slid a bolt into Bianca. Cullen nodded to one of the Inquisition soldiers who was wielding daggers instead of sword and shield, and the woman returned the nod before stepping forward to open the door.
Ilriane Ghilain tumbled through the Eluvian, heart racing, gasping for breath. She brought up her bow with an arrow notched and scanned her surroundings.
She had exited into a small room with a closed door. She resisted the temptation to let her guard down entirely and slump against the wall – or, perhaps, simply sink to the floor. She couldn't be sure she was safe.
When her breathing had slowed a little, she realized that she heard something outside the room. It sounded like voices. And yes, there were the sound of footsteps, moving towards her.
People. She was someplace that had people.
The door swung open and Ilriane reflexively brought up her bow, ready to fire if necessary. She blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes but made herself keep the bow at the ready.
"Declare yourself!" a man's voice called – someone at the head of the group that was greeting her. There were several soldiers forming a shield wall, and more armed people behind them. Ilriane squinted and turned her attention to the shields. Her stomach lurched and her arms trembled as she realized what device the shields bore.
"Enathe. The beginning." Despite the anxiety that she still felt – anxiety that had been her constant companion for the past month – Ilriane laughed. This should have been impossible. She knew that. Yet she knew that it was real. Perhaps she was just too drained to give this situation the incredulity it deserved.
Somehow, she had actually gone back in time to the days of the Second Inquisition.
"Let me through, Cullen," a female voice said. Ilriane couldn't see the speaker behind the shield wall.
"Inquisitor-"
"I hardly think that one exhausted woman is a threat to me."
The man who had demanded Ilriane identify herself scowled, then signaled the others to step aside and let the woman step forward. Ilriane knew her instantly. Blonde hair a few shades darker than her own, cropped to just below her chin. Pointed ears sticking out from that blonde hair, wide green eyes and soft features. Her clothing was perfectly tailored and looked brand new, a sharp contrast to Ilriane's own ragged appearance. The scrapes on her knees stung with exposure to the gust of wind that had entered the room.
"Greetings," the woman said. "I'm –"
"Inquisitor Suinassa Lavellan," Ilriane interrupted her. "I – you have no idea how much of an honor it is to meet you, Inquisitor. My name is Ilriane Ghilain." She placed the Inquisitor's companions instantly - the blonde leader of the soldiers was Commander Cullen Rutherford, and the dwarf following closely in the Inquisitor's footsteps was Viscount Varric Tethras.
"An'eth'ara, asa'var'lin," Inquisitor Lavellan replied. Her accent was stronger than those Ilriane was used to, seeming almost more melodic. Ilriane's heart warmed at Inquisitor Lavellan calling her 'cousin'. She knew she didn't look Dalish, but of course the Inquisitor would know that Ghilain was a Dalish clan.
"Maker's Breath, you look exhausted," Varric Tethras said. "C'mon, Curly. The Inquisitor's right, she's no threat. We should let her sit down and have something to eat. I'm sure she has a hell of a story to tell us."
Commander Rutherford frowned, but then waved at the soldiers besides him. "You two, stay here in case anything else comes through," he said. "The rest of you are dismissed."
The soldiers nodded and started to move away as the Commander came to stand beside the Inquisitor. "We will not want to take her through the Great Hall," he said quietly.
"I agree. She's been through enough already." The Inquisitor turned to face Ilriane. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk as though you aren't here. If you'll follow me, I'll find a room where we can sit and talk in privacy."
"Ma serannas," Ilriane said, feeling tension drain from her shoulders at last. "I am in your hands, Inquisitor."
She was rewarded with a comforting smile from the Dalish woman. They were of an age, Ilriane realized suddenly. This whole situation was overwhelming, and there was no way she could forget the import of where she was and who she was with – but Suinassa Lavellan was making her feel comfortable for reasons that had very little to do with her rank and power, and had everything to do with their shared cultural heritage.
Ilriane followed her along the garden walkway, resisting the urge to stop and stare at her surroundings. This was the real Skyhold, a functional fortress - not the museum and cultural center of her time. She had been there once, when she was a child, so her surroundings were starting to seem vaguely familiar.
The Inquisitor stopped and opened one of the doors to her left, poking her head inside before turning and nodding to her companions. "Varric, would you mind bringing Leliana and Cassandra here?"
"Not at all," Viscount Tethras replied with an answering nod. "I'll get some food sent here as well."
Ilriane took the first chair she saw and resisted the urge to simply slump on the table. She placed her bag and bow on the ground carefully and leaned back in the chair. Then she registered who the Inquisitor had sent for. "Divine Victoria and Seeker Pentaghast are here?" Victoria was easily one of the most influential Divines in history, having laid much of the foundation for the Chantry that Ilriane knew.
Inquisitor Lavellan raised an eyebrow, and for a moment Ilriane had to resist the temptation to blurt out What year is it? Then she took another look at the Inquisitor and saw that she was missing a hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. So Leliana had already been named Divine. Creators, but this was going to get confusing.
"Leliana is here to finalize certain arrangements for transferring the Inquisition to Chantry control," the Inquisitor said.
Ilriane nodded. "Ma serannas," she said again, though she wasn't sure if the Inquisitor would understand why she was being thanked. That reply had told her exactly what year it was, which was one less thing to worry about. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, feeling herself starting to relax. She couldn't afford to relax too much, though – she was going to have to explain herself as soon as the Divine and Seeker Pentaghast arrived. And there was very little point in trying to demur or lie. She knew from how they had reacted to her entrance that any story she gave them that made her out to be a resident of this time would fall apart the moment someone started scrutinizing it.
So she had to tell the truth. And hope they believed her.
A few moments of silence passed before the door opened again and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast entered, followed by Divine Victoria and Viscount Tethras.
"So you are the source of the disturbance," Seeker Pentaghast said, narrowing her eyes at Ilriane.
Ilriane nodded. "I'm – sorry that I caused the disturbance. I had no idea. I didn't even know where I would –" she paused. "I – I need to back up." She took a deep breath and met Inquisitor Lavellan's eyes. If the Inquisitor believed her, accepted her story, the others would follow. "I'm from the future. Two hundred ninety-four years from now, to be exact."
There was a long moment of stunned silence in response to that, and then -
"Are you shitting me?" Viscount Tethras exclaimed. Ilriane had to smile. She should have known that the author of Hard in Hightown would react in that manner.
Seeker Pentaghast frowned. "That can't be possible. I know that you traveled to the future, Inquisitor, but that was only one year, and it was undone."
"Which shows that it can be done, in theory," Inquisitor Lavellan replied calmly. "But it would take a tremendous amount of magic to travel that far." She peered at Ilriane intently. "Are you a mage?"
"No, although we had one with us," Ilriane replied, and she knew she sounded a little defensive. "Melothari Ralaferin. She - she was the last one to die. She was arrogant and stuck up and embodied some of the worst of the Dalish stereotypes, but she - she saved my life." Ilriane felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes and lifted a hand to wipe them away.
"So you were somewhere that you felt you needed a mage with you," Divine Victoria said quietly, bringing Ilriane's focus back to her present surroundings. "Where was that? And what were you doing there?"
"I'm still stuck on the 'two hundred ninety-four years in the future' part," Tethras said dryly. "I don't suppose you have any proof of that?"
"To answer your question, Your Perfection, I'm -" Ilriane paused and shook her head. "I was part of an archaeological expedition in the Arbor Wilds." She reached down into her backpack and rummaged around until she found the book she was looking for, pulling it out and putting it on the table. "And here's some proof." I hope.
Tethras picked it up and read the book title aloud. "Translating Ancient Elvhen." He flipped the book open to the copyright page. "Published 12:29 Reclamation, Denerim University Press." He ran a finger across the paper. "Good quality. Really good quality. There isn't any publisher in all of Thedas that could make paper this good."
"Why Reclamation?" Seeker Pentaghast asked.
"The Innovation Age ended with the rulers of Orlais and Ferelden returning the Dales to the Dalish," Ilriane explained, looking at the Seeker. "They are an independent nation now. All of the clans live in the Dales, though there are plenty of elves that still live alongside humans."
"The Dalish … govern themselves?" the Inquisitor said slowly. "The Dales belong to the Dalish?" She shook her head. "You will have to tell me more, later. But right now - I need to know how you came to be here. Perhaps you should start from the beginning. From when your expedition arrived in the Arbor Wilds."
Ilriane made herself look up from the table, studying their faces in turn - these famous people, the ones who had done great things and shaped the world that Ilriane had grown up in. She let out a long breath. "There were twenty of us, led by Hahren Hellathen Alerion, a Professor of Elvhen Studies at the University of Orlais. We arrived … I think it was a month ago. Three days in, we found the Eluvian. Intact. Hellathen put me to work translating the symbols. Once I got it to work, he decided we should go through. Hellathen decided that he, Melothari, myself and seven others would go through. The plan was - a day out, two days exploring, and then a day back."
She paused in her recitation of the story when the door opened to admit a woman with a tray. Ilriane's stomach rumbled at the scents coming from that tray - loud enough for the others to hear, it appeared, because the Inquisitor chuckled. "We can wait," she said. "Go ahead. I can tell you're famished."
"Thank you, Inquisitor," Ilriane said gratefully as she picked up a piece of bread and began to eat. She took small, slow bites to go easy on her stomach. It was the first good meal she'd had in weeks.
When she'd eaten about half the food, she looked up at the Inquisitor again. "We found another Eluvian almost immediately, and this one didn't need activation. Well, of course we were going to go through it. Melothari sent a message back through the first Eluvian to let them know what we planned, and that we were still going to stick to our original schedule." Ilriane paused. "That … was when everything started to go wrong. As soon as we stepped through that second Eluvian, we were attacked. Melothari said they were demons. There was … a lot of confusion during the fight. When it was all over, two of us were dead. Jongar and Misyl." She swallowed. "And the Eluvian was broken."
"Maker's Breath," Tethras said quietly. "Merrill took years to repair an Eluvian. I'm guessing you didn't manage that."
Ilriane nodded. "We started trying to repair the Eluvian, but the next morning we were attacked again, and we had to run. We left Jongar and Misyl behind. They deserved better, but … we didn't have a choice. We weren't going to repair the Eluvian when we were under attack. We hoped that if we left the area alone for a while, the demons would move on."
"An extremely thin hope," Rutherford said.
"But all we had," Ilriane replied, a little defensively.
Rutherford's face flushed and he looked away. "I'm sorry, my lady. It wasn't meant as a criticism."
Ilriane felt her face flushing to match his. She wasn't used to being called 'my lady'. She cleared her throat and resumed talking. "We found another Eluvian. Also already activated. We went through. That was when Hellathen thought to have me take down the symbols on the Eluvian, so that we could find our way back if we had to run again."
"Something tells me that you did," Seeker Pentaghast said softly.
Ilriane nodded, and for a moment her throat was too tight for her to speak. "Yes," she said. "It became far too much of a pattern - we'd be attacked, and we'd have to run, and lose people along the way." The names and faces came to the forefront of her mind, and she had to close her eyes for a moment. Halevune. Isidore. Rasanor. Aviselan. Ebsalom. Their time as a group had been brief, but intense – as tended to happen with such expeditions. She knew their personal stories, their favorites, their goals.
"Eventually," she said, forcing herself to continue, "it was down to just myself, Melothari, and Hellathen. We ran for as long as we could, after we lost Ebsalom. We only stopped long enough to make copies of the symbols on the Eluvians. When we came up for air … we found ourselves at a kind of nexus. To the best of our knowledge, it's the center of the Eluvian network. We found a map."
"A map of the Eluvians?" Inquisitor Lavellan burst out, her blue eyes widening.
Ilriane reached down into her backpack and pulled out the folder that contained her drawings. "I knew it was a map because part of it lined up with my work," she said. "We worked day and night to copy everything down. We thought we might be able to use it to find a way back." She sighed again. "But … the time cost us. The demons caught up with us, and Hellathen died."
This time she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Ilriane turned her head away from Inquisitor Lavellan and found herself looking at Cullen Rutherford instead, which was not any better - so she dropped her gaze to her lap and wiped her tears away with her hand. Ilriane took a few deep breaths and tried to get her emotions under control. When she spoke again, she knew her voice was still shaky, but she had to finish.
"Melothari and I decided that we needed to use the map find a way out of the Eluvians. We tried to find the shortest route. Once we were out, we could find a way to get back to the Arbor Wilds. We knew that if we stayed, we would die like the others." What little control Ilriane had managed to get back in her voice vanished with that statement. She took another deep breath. She had to finish this.
"We were on our way towards an exit when we were attacked. Again." Ilriane swallowed. "She … she told me to run ahead. That she could buy me time. That it was better if at least one of us got away. I … she left me no choice. I ran. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for leaving her behind to die."
"She made her choice," the Seeker said firmly. "You must honor that. Whether you think it was the right decision or not. Anything else will be a disservice to her memory."
"I hope one day I'll be able to do that," Ilriane replied. "Anyway, I … I ran. I tried to follow the path we had planned out, but I made a wrong turn, somewhere. I was just about to give up when someone found me. He directed me to an Eluvian. Said it would take me to Enathe, the beginning - that I would be safe there." She saw the startled expressions on their faces and laughed quietly. "I couldn't believe it either. All this time with only demons for company, and a bald elf just shows up out of nowhere to give me a way out?"
"Bald?" Inquisitor Lavellan burst out. Ilriane focused on her, as did the others. Lavellan was gripping the edge of the chair nearest her with white knuckles on her remaining hand, all the color gone from her face. "What else can you tell me about him? What was he wearing? What did he say?"
Ilriane had no idea why the Inquisitor was acting this way, but she decided it was better not to ask. "I can show you what he looked like," she said, grabbing her sketchbook and pencil and flipping to a blank page. For a few moments the only sound was the scratch of pencil on paper as she drew the likeness of the elf who had helped her. She would never forget his face. She hoped she might have the chance to thank him, one day.
Almost as an afterthought, she included the symbols that had been on the side of the Eluvian - the one that had brought her here. It seemed appropriate and took up only a few more seconds, although she could feel Inquisitor Lavellan's intense, demanding stare.
When she was finished, she handed it to the Inquisitor and tried not to dwell on how sloppy it was. Inquisitor Lavellan took the page in her right hand and stared at it for a long moment. "Solas," she said finally, her voice nearly as shaky as Ilriane's. "Solas helped you."