Chapter 1: And Though I Can't Keep It Together, I Know That You'd Want Me To

Eyes sorrow-blinded, in darkness unbroken
There 'pon the mountain, a voice answered my call.
"Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing,
An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown."

-Canticle of Andraste

Julius

"What are you doing? T'would be best to get out of this wretched den of dragons and lunatics as quickly as possible, I would think, and yet, here we are, stopped and sifting through bile..." a dark haired woman spoke sardonically back towards some unknown figures whilst looking at her nails.

"Oh no! We made the witch mad at us again! Better watch out guys!" A blond man exclaimed as he came forward in the cavern sarcastically waving his hands around.

"Shut up, fool." the woman spat back, her eyes gleaming hatred.

"Ah, just let him do his thing, he's never been wrong for hording materials before." A woman with blood red hair spoke, twirling around two longswords as she walked to the front of the group.

"Done!" a joyous voice exclaimed.

"Finally. Did you really need the dragon bile?" The dark haired woman inquired, obviously irritated.

"It's for research!" a red haired man retorted, as he walked into view.

"Circle mages." the dark haired woman sighed as she rolled her eyes in disgust.

"So, uh, how do we get out of here now?" The blond man questioned, ignoring the dark haired woman now.

"This way, follow me." The red haired woman said, pushing forth into the cavern.

Blinking his eyes open, he awoke dazed. It was dark, and cold, and wet, and hard where he laid. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up trying to figure out where he was and how he had gotten there, as well, what was that strange dream? Who were those people? As for where he was, he remembered falling... Haven! Corypheus! Abigail! Where was Abigail!? He desperately looked around him, his hand glowing green and giving faint light to the cavern he had fallen into, but there were no traces of anyone else there, just the dimly reflected image of himself given from the icy walls.

"Maybe she's up ahead..." he muttered as he hoisted himself up to his feet, gritting his teeth as he clutched his right side, blood starting to dribble from the freshly reopened wound.

Continuing to hold his side in a vain attempt to keep his wound sealed while holding his right hand before him to shed some light on the path, he trudged along forward, hoping to find Abigail or at least an exit. He stumbled along for a ways until he came to a larger chamber within the cave. The chamber was home to three despair demons, wailing their haunting dirge. He knew it would only be a moment until they realized he was there, so quickly he surveyed the room, looking for an escape route or better, a weapon to defend himself, his sword and shield having been lost when he fell. He was still searching when they noticed him and turning their cold eyes upon him, they shrieked and swarmed around him, chilling the air further with their ice. He dodged the first icy blast, but the second and third caught him in their chilling tempest. Pinning him to his hands and knees, the three continued their onslaught, they would only be sated by his death. Both hands now on the ground, his side wound streamed blood as did his head blurring his vision further with red. The cold enveloping him and the loss of blood started to take hold, as he could feel his grip on consciousness slipping.

"After it all, am I to die here, like this?" he thought, starting to give in and give up.

"Julius!" a voice rang through his head, startling him back to the world.

"Abigail?" he questioned as he lifted his eyes to look, but she was not there, and had never been. "No, I won't give up..." he grumbled as he glared down at the floor. A throbbing pain shot through the mark in his right hand, and glancing at it, he could see the mark surged with magical energy. The pain continued to grow as the sparks of energy flurried about his hand, he hadn't even noticed that the ice from the demons was no longer affecting him. Rising back upon his knees, he gripped his right wrist with his left hand as the magic sparked and hissed. Then suddenly, the magic burst upward from his hand into the air destroying the demons and gleaming through the cavern.

"What in Andraste's name was that?" he finally whispered after staring in dumbfounded wonder for a few minutes. "I should tell Solas about that, I guess." He reasoned as he stood again, continuing to examine his hand. Ripping the bottom of his pants, he made a makeshift bandage for his side, and he pressed on. Soon, he was at the mouth of the cavern, looking out into the snow covered mountains of Ferelden. Stepping out into the deep snow and biting wind, he could see the smoke still rising from the ruins of Haven, a piteous sight.

"They must have gone this way." He surmised, trekking deeper into the mountains. He continued to wade slowly through the snow for miles, his side was again spewing blood, leaving a crimson trail behind him. Wolves howled around him, keeping out of sight just behind the trees, creeping closer behind him with every drop of blood that fell. He wasn't worried about the wolves though, he was more concerned with finding any trace that anyone had passed through this way. Finally in the distance he could see a faint light, mustering his strength, he waded through the snow as fast as he could toward it. Upon arriving to where the glimmer of light had originated, he found that is was the smoldering remains of a campfire. It couldn't have been terribly long since its creators had left it and the howls of the wolves grew closer the longer he paused to look at the ashes. He kicked snow over the fire, he couldn't risk the enemy following him even though there was the distinct chance that he was following the enemy's trail and not that of his comrades. With the wind and snow sweeping away and covering any evidence of footprints, he had to hope he was following the Inquisition's path and not the enemy's. Along he roamed, ever upward into the mountains, ever followed by the wolves howls.

He had no way of knowing how many hours he had been slogging along, but one thing was for certain, his numbed legs could not take too much longer. He was determined to continue until he could no longer, and the wolves he knew hoped his legs would give out soon, they crept along within sight a distance behind him. He could feel himself fading in and out as he trudged forward, his legs beginning to feel like dead weight beneath him. He saw a small passage through the mountains, if he could make it just a bit further, he might be able to see some sign that the Inquisition had passed through there. It was just a bit further... He pushed himself to continue, swinging his right leg forward, then slowly following with his left, inching, creeping forward. He could hear the wolves start to boldly move forward, no longer concerned with caution. His legs folded beneath him, and into the snow he collapsed. Using his arms, he attempted to crawl forward, but his strength had abandoned him, and he fell face down into the snow. Unable to move any longer he knew then that the wolves would feast this night. He could hear the wolves rapid footsteps getting closer, he was hoping he might pass out before they began eating him alive, but that too seemed to be beyond his reach. Then he heard the footsteps stop, but he couldn't tell why until he heard a familiar voice shout, "It's the Herald! We found him! Alert the Commander!" Then darkness took him.

The mountains were cold and dark, and only the moon and stars shown, The Breach absent from the sky. He watched as wisps appeared before him, vague shapes of soldiers marched forward, their armor fading in and out of sight along with their forms. They all pushed deeper into the mountains, and he could see the faint glimmer of torches being carried further along in a trail through the range. Where were they going? What lied ahead? Why was he seeing this? "Follow." he heard a voice in his head demand.

"We can reach out to Orlais, the Empress, she can-" Josephine began, but was interrupted by a very agitated Cullen.

"Orlais!? That's your idea? Contact the Empress who can't even control her own nobles? No. We won't be indebted to Orlais or its useless empress for-"

"Commander, don't yell at her because you cannot fathom the idea of asking Orlais for help, at least she is trying to come up with a solution and not tearing down whatever idea comes up simply based on some Ferelden prejudice." Leliana cut him off, glaring as if to address that he was in the presence of at least one very capable Orlesian.

"Enough, the fighting is getting us nowhere!" Cassandra finally burst, silencing them for a moment.

"Well, that isn't true, it is getting me a headache." the Herald said, as he stumbled over towards the arguing advisers.

"My lord Trevelyan!" Josephine exclaimed as she stood up, shocked to see him awake.

"Whoah! The healers said to take it easy!" Cullen chided as he steadied the stumbling man and lowered him to sit.

"We did not expect you to be awake so soon, lord Julius." Leliana bemused, a hint of respect from the proud spymaster.

"Where is Abigail? Where is my sister?" He asked, and as he saw Josephine look down, and saw the uncomfortable alteration in Cullen's demeanor, as well as the shift in posture from Cassandra, he knew the answer.

"We do not know. We had hoped you were together. Not long before we found you, our sentries saw a green light in the snow plain behind us, which is why we were able to reach you before the wolves did. We guessed it was one of you two, but we had hoped it was the both of you, and as it turned out we guessed correctly." Cassandra stated plainly, not one to coddle.

"So, she's still back there?" Julius asked, attempting to stand and turn.

"You aren't well enough to mount a rescue, Herald." Cullen asserted, placing his hand firmly on the Herald's shoulder and forcing him to stay put.

"If not me, then who will though?" Julius spat back, glaring into Cullen's eyes. Cullen looked away, a tinge of sadness flickered in his eyes, as Josephine pleaded, "My lord Herald, we will search for her, but we must also think of our people here. We can't risk the lives of the men, women, children, and elderly who we have borne this far safely."

Julius looked around, seeing the defeated faces of the hungry, tired, and broken people of the Inquisition and realized he had acted too rashly, he also couldn't disagree with Josephine's earnest eyes.

"I- you're right. I should think more before I speak. My apologies." He stated, almost reciting the phrase as though he had said it countless times to a strict teacher.

"Rest, Herald, we will have to move soon." Cassandra declared, pointing back to the healer's tent from whence he had emerged.

He nodded, and did as bid, returning to the tent to be met by Mother Giselle. He bit his tongue on seeing her, what wonderfully flat words of encouragement would it be this time? What dribble about the faithful being rewarded would it be now? How could she even speak about the blessing of the Maker now? How was any faith ever rewarded? What had either of them ever done to be rewarded with this, a literal darkspawn magister trying to kill them for having a magic glowing mark on their hands? Their whole lives were over the moment they were born, even before all this, but oh, yes, this must be some divine plan enacted by a just and holy Maker who can do no wrong, and who rewards those who love him. Bullshit. He didn't want to hear anything she had to say about the Maker or anything else.

"You look weary of heart, Herald." She voiced in her calming way.

"Well, after we shot down a mountainside on our heads trying to kill a fucking myth and then climbing up the backside of a damn mountain range, yeah, I am a bit weary." He bit back, not able to contain his temper.

"You have faced many trials tonight, and more will come. I will continue to pray for Lady Abigail and her safe return." Mother Giselle continued to remain calm and seemed to ignore his temper.

"What good will praying do? Can you even pray for a mage!? Besides the Maker has forsaken us! That's in your Chant of Light, remember!? That's- It's the only part worth believing in the whole... thing." He choked, his frustration and anger causing his eyes to well up.

"The Maker will reward the-" She began to recite but was cut off.

"If the Maker rewarded his faithful, why did all this happen!? Why are there crying mothers telling their children why their father isn't ever coming home again? Why are there parents mourning their sons and daughters who died at Haven!? Where is His reward for The Inquisition!? For Abigail!? ...where... is Abigail...?" He covered his face in his hands so no one would see him break. Cullen stared down at his own boots, cursing himself for failing yet another place he'd vowed to protect, let alone the people he'd sworn to protect there. Josephine looked upward towards the sky, attempting to look like she wasn't in tears thinking about all that had happened. Leliana sat with folded hands, looking darkly into the fire, what burned in her mind only the Maker knew. Cassandra paced about uneasily, unsure of what to do.

"The Maker did not make the dawn so there would be no night, and he did not make the night without the promise of the dawn. The faithful here were already rewarded when they saw you return, they were without hope, seeing a terrible evil strike down their Heralds, and yet, you came back to them. You must pass through the night for the dawn to come, I have faith you will see." She said, standing up. She placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as she began singing a familiar Chantry hymn, "The Dawn Will Come". Julius looked between his fingers to see that Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, Cassandra, and pretty much every other member of the Inquisition began to join in the chorus. Only Solas seemed to not join in, he looked confused by the song, as though he had never heard it, being an apostate elf, he may not have ever heard it. Strangely though, the song did give comfort to Julius and he began to look to the mountain path he had seen the wisps traveling before in his dream, and he could still clearly hear the voice telling him, "Follow."

Abigail

Gripping, grasping, clawing, she could feel the spirits trying to pull her deeper into the darkness. She could hear the grotesque sounds of tortured spirits being transfigured into horrid demons, demons of despair, pride, fear, and all manner of the lesser demons of darkness and corruption. Frantically she ran, trying to escape the tumultuous spirits and demons, but in the darkness her steps got her no further, as though she was running in place. Desperate for escape, she reached her left hand forward, and the mark upon it released a blinding blast of green light, forcing her to close her eyes. When she opened them, she was in a torchlit cavern. She looked around in wonder trying to figure out where she was when she felt something wet drip onto her head. She reached her hand out in an attempt to catch whatever had dripped, and she caught 3 crimson drops of blood. Horrified, she looked up to see the roof of the cavern was covered in blood, and then the sides and the floor began to ooze forth blood as well. She then heard the stifling screams of untold legions, crying out in pain, their death knell deafening her. Soon the pooling blood was up to her knees, and she tried to run through the cave to another chamber, but the claws of shades rising from the blood had grasped her cloak and were pulling her down.

"Let go!" She cried, shooting fire magic back at the demons grasping her, forcing them to release their grip. Running into the next chamber as soon as she was freed, she saw her brother on his hands and knees surrounded by darkness.

"Julius!" She shouted, her marked hand outstretched trying to reach him. Suddenly, her marked hand shot out a powerful green gleam of magic, and the cavern disappeared. She was now alone in some ruins in the center of the mountains. Beneath her feet was rough hewn and worn stone tiles that formed a pathway towards a corridor deeper into the tallest mountain. To her right there was a small amphitheater with an old brass gong on the edge of it. "What is that for?" she mused to herself absently, but then a thunderous sound behind her caught her attention. Behind her in the paved clearing landed a massive High Dragon, steam billowing from her nose into the air. She looked in wide eyed wonder at the gigantic beast, her eyes meeting the dragons, some unfathomable force had paralyzed her, she could not move or turn away. The two stared into each others eyes for what seemed like an eternity, the dragon finally breaking eye contact and opening her maw to unleash a hellish fire from within. The flames engulfed her, but she couldn't cry out or even make a sound as she fell to the ground. Through the flames, however, she saw a figure approaching. It was a man in heavy armor, she could hardly see him now, but she got the distinct impression he was smirking.

It was warm and bright, her eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the light from the fire.

"Ugh." she vocalized as she rubbed her eyes and attempted to sit up, placing weight on her right arm, she cried out in pain, but did manage to come to a seated position.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that. Your arm is broken." An unfamiliar man's voice said behind her.

"A Red Templar!?"she thought as she stiffened. Throwing her left hand back towards the voice, she brought forth a wave of magic fire with her. A firm hand caught her wrist and she let out a frightened peep, her spell had missed its intended target, and now she was in no position to counter.

"I wouldn't do that either." The man stated, his voice in a harsh tone.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" She meekly asked, expecting the man to break her arm or harm her in some other way.

"Name's Liam. And all I want from you, your Heraldiness, is for you to calm down and think. If I was your enemy you would already be dead. Plus, I wouldn't have bothered to use about 5 Elfroot potions on you either, nor would I have attempted to set your arm, right?" The man explained, his tone settling down as he placed her arm down gently.

"I- I am sorry. Forgive my rashness." She whispered mildly, she had been a fool to not assess the full situation and see her bandages.

"All forgiven! Now, I see you are well enough to cast magic, so how about standing?" Liam replied back, unfazed and extending a hand out to her. Upon taking his hand and standing, she realized just how gigantic her new acquaintance was. He stood as tall as a Qunari, but he appeared human. He had messy blood red hair with rough sideburns down the side of his face along with an unshaven shadow running along his cheeks to his chin. His eyes gleamed a haunting red, she had never seen such eyes on a human before. Was he human, or something else? Maybe he was an Avvar? That might explain the height, but those eyes were still so strange.

"Done?" He asked, smirking at her for staring so long at him.

"Sorry." She apologized as her face grew flushed.

"Don't worry about it, I get it all the time." He blew it off lightly.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking back to see a towering fire a ways behind them.

"Ah, used to be Haven, now, it's just ashes." He said flippantly, waving his hand behind him.

"The Inquisition! My brother! Cullen!" She gasped, clutching her chest with her left hand.

"Cullen...? Well, well. No, didn't see him. He wasn't here when I arrived, nobody was. I found you buried under the remains of a trebuchet, figured you were dead. You weren't somehow, but I didn't find any other survivors. Been burning the bodies since yesterday when I got here, didn't want them all to reanimate 'cause of the hole in the sky." Liam explained, pointing his thumb back towards the great fire, which she now knew was a funeral pyre.

"You didn't see my brother's body did you? He is about average height, kinda muscular build, blond hair shaved on the sides, green eyes, with a scar on his face going across his left eye and into his hairline and another scar on his nose going up and across?" She asked and then added holding up her left hand, "He has a mark on his right hand like mine."

"No, I didn't see the other Herald. I would have told you if I did. You didn't have to go into detail about him." He retorted shaking his head as he doused the campfire. "Now, we need to get you back to your people, right? So let's go, uh... What's your name?"

"Abigail." She replied and then hopefully inquired, "So you know where they are? The Inquisition, I mean."

"Not a clue. But I know someone who should know." He responded, turning on his heels and heading into the dark forest followed closely by Abigail.

Authors Notes: Well, you survived the first chapter, I will attempt to reformulate the layout for the next chapter to be a bit better, I know this one sucked. In vase you didnt realize it, the italics denote a dream sequence... Also, just bear with me on the plot. I wanted to do a fanfic on Inquisition, but I hate starting at the beginning (who wants to read or write 18 chapters on the Hinterlands? not me.) so I started at the fall of Haven. Yes, this story is about 2 Inquisitors. Yes, I know that makes things more complicated, that is why we are re-writing it (which means I will change whatever I want, you can't stop me, plus, it is a fanfic, so I may change things according to my own headcanon, again, you cannot stop me.) This is a co-written fanfic, so our updates may be slow sometimes, okay? Like Hafter's Woods, just bear with it. Each of us took the creative liscense on one of the Inquisitors, and also the other OCs, feel free to try to figure out which ones are done by which, haha. (That will make more sense later...) Love to see what you have to say, and enjoy reading the next Chapter next week! Charge out.

I reformatted this one finally! Ew, it was harsh before. Sorry for that.