Mahanon was never meant to be someone of power and importance. He was just a hunter from clan Lavellan, just a mentally ill 19 year old who couldn't lead a team if his life depended on it.

Then, he was thrust into a position of power, forced to be the one everyone looked up to - and he hated every second of it.

Mahanon couldn't help but stare incredulously when Cassandra left that first decision to either take the mountain path or charge with soldiers. He was their prisoner! Why should he have to make this decision? Cassandra had barely even trusted him to hold a knife - why was she trusting him with this?

When he voiced as much, Solas intervened, "You have the mark."

"You are the one we must keep alive," Cassandra said, and Mahanon knew she hated admitting it. What did that matter? All they needed was the fucking mark, they didn't need him! And why did that suddenly mean that such an important decision was resting on his shoulders now?

"Um," Mahanon began to tremble slightly, hopefully not enough for anyone to see, his heart began to beat wildly, "Um, lets- ah, take the mountain path?"

As it turned out, the mountain path fucking sucked. It was crawling with demons, and they had found a group of dead scouts on the mountain. Fucking great. Mahanon wasn't sure which decision would have been worse. He knew, rationally, that each choice would have lead to demons anyway, but he couldn't help but feel bitter that all of the casualties this choice caused would be pinned on him. 'He made the decision, it's his fault'-

"The temple of sacred ashes," Solas said, snapping Mahanon out of his thoughts. Mahanon glanced over at the bald man to find his eyes already on him. He quickly looked away.

"What's left of it," Varric scoffed.

The temple was covered in burning bodies, their stench making Mahanon gag. He covered his nose with his shirt. The rest of the party made similar faces of disgust as they walked through the crumbling ruin.

Cassandra's friend, whose name eluded Mahanon, ran up and began speaking with Cassandra. Probably just some shem shit. Mahanon toned the voices out, instead focusing on the huge rift in the sky. He swallowed dryly, his heart rate speeding up. Shit, he really didn't want to do this. He just wanted to go home. The homesickness hit him so hard and so fast that he had to blink away tears.

"This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?" Cassandra's voice made him jump and turn. She was facing him steadily, her face grave.

"Do I have a choice?" He laughed weakly.

Cassandra scowled and Mahanon looked away, focusing again on the fade rift. It was... well, it was high. Big and looming, flickering every few seconds. He felt his palm pulse in unison with the ominous green light.

"Let's just get this over with," he mumbled under his breath, although he was pretty sure they all heard him.

They traveled quickly down the slope to the rift, where immediately a huge fucking demon appeared. Mahanon felt sweat beading on his forehead, pricking at his underarms. With shaking hands, he reached for his daggers.

The fight was brutal. To beat the demon, he had to stand in one place for a few precious seconds to disrupt the rift, or so Solas told him (in a rather condescending voice). It wasn't that he didn't trust these people to protect him, they seemed perfectly capable, but...

It was still terrifying, relying on people who just hours earlier had held him prisoner and threatened him. As the rift was disrupted, the demon fell on it's knees. Rather than attack the big, scary ass demon, Mahanon focused on the smaller, yet equally terrifying demons. Leave the big one to Cassandra. He darted between demons, stabbing them in their weird backs and moving away just as quickly. His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he finished off demon after demon, although he never went close to the big scary one. He was a rogue, for the Creators' sake, he knew his place on the battlefield. It was not fighting some bigass pride demon.

Finally, the big demon went down, rumbling and making the ground quake beneath it. Cassandra and Varric ran to get out from where it was falling.

"Now!" Cassandra shouted, looking to where Mahanon stood, gesturing wildly, "Seal the rift!"

Mahanon thrust his hand forward, feeling searing pain as it did something to the rift.

And then, nothing.

Mahanon startled awake, sitting up, but immediately falling back, feeling his body ache. He glanced down to his hand, hoping this was all some wild dream he could laugh about with his sister.

Nope. The mark, damn that thing, was still shining bright on his hand, still pulsing a steady rhythm on his palm. He let out a string of elven curses before getting up, despite his body's protests.

He looked around, beginning to feel panic rising in his chest. Where was he? A cabin, he thought. A cabin where?

He jumped as a small elvhen girl opened the door and strolled inside. She seemed equally startled to see him, if not more so.

"Oh! I didn't know you were awake, i swear!" she squeaked. Mahanon regarded her nervously.

"Its... fine?" he answered, unsure what to do or who this girl was.

To Mahanon's surprise and discomfort, the girl fell to her knees before him. His eyes widened, and he shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"They say you saved us," the girl said, still kneeling, "You're in Haven. They brought you back here, after you sealed the breach. It's all anyone would talk about for three days!"

So it had been three days. He didn't know where or what Haven was, though. He wished this girl would get up, or at least stop kneeling. She was making him extremely uncomfortable.

"Okay," Mahanon said awkwardly, "Can you please stand up now?"

The girl immediately shot up, looking apologetic, and said a quick, "Lady Cassandra will want to see you now! She's in the Chantry!"

The girl scurried off without another word. Mahanon rubbed his neck and exited the cabin, startled to see so many people waiting outside. As soon as he stepped out, all pairs of eyes were on him. He tensed up and swiftly began to walk towards what he was assuming was the Chantry.

He became increasingly uncomfortable as the number of stares and whispers increased. He noticed Varric, standing by a fire, chest hair out, and regarding him with warm eyes and a smile. He gave a small nod in Varric's direction before quickly reaching the heavy Chantry doors and pushing them open, with some effort. He felt safer inside, less exposed than he did outside. There were less people in here. Although, a few priestesses(?) were still staring at him as he passed. At least the whispers were done.

He slowed his walk, standing outside a door with people shouting behind it. Loud voices, one belonging to Cassandra, the other to an unknown man. He leaned against the door, listening in. He didn't quite want to go in just yet.

However, as it quickly became apparent that they were talking about him, Mahanon sighed, and opened the door.

a/n: Tell me what you think! I'm moving this here from my AO3 account and I'm more likely to update there than on here but I'll do my best!