I: Haven, 9:41 Dragon

A letter addressed in a familiar hand arrived over ten days ago with three implicit instructions. She was to get out of Highever. Tell no one where she was going, then burn the letter. When Lady Elissa Cousland had seen the hand writing on the envelope, she had been overjoyed, grabbing the letter before running to her rooms in the within her ancestral home to read it in private. Her husband, Warden-Constable Alistair, had left on a mission of grave importance two years ago. This was the first time she had heard from him since watching him disappear over the horizon from the battlements of The Vigil in Amaranthine.

While the envelope was neatly written, the letter inside was a hasty scrawl with the three instructions. 'Leave Highever, tell no one where you are going and burn this letter.' She studied his hand for a while before throwing it into the brazier as Fergus entered her rooms.

'You had a letter?' he asked her in a curious lilt.

'Only a report from Amaranthine,' she said, stepping away from the brazier, but she knew Fergus had seen her throw the letter into the embers. 'Do not ask,' she stipulated as she headed to the door.

Much to Fergus's despair, she was gone in a cloud of dust and clatter of hooves before sundown.

Long before Alistair left Ferelden on his mission, Elissa noticed an acute change in the Wardens of Ferelden. They were a secretive order by nature. But the local order were like an extended branch of brothers and sisters to her, treating her as one of their own despite having never gone through the terrifying joining ritual that claimed more lives than gave fully fledged Wardens. But six years ago, darkness had started to overcome them. Less and less Wardens returned from what should have been routine trips into the Deep Roads to keep the remaining Darkspawn at bay. Even Alistair would lapse into long periods of silence with a troubled look in his eyes. Queen Anora reported Aidan did much the same. Elissa never imaged she would ever have anything in common with Anora, but at that moment, they feared for their Grey Warden husbands.

Alistair had declined the share the nature of his mission with Aidan, stating only if they succeeded then their lives would change. Elissa could only ponder on the nature of the change Alistair alluded. Part of her liked the nomadic element of their life together. At his side, Elissa had visited much of Thedas in the ten years after the Blight. She wasn't accustomed to staying in one place at a time.

In part, the instruction to leave Highever had been liberating. On horseback, Elissa crossed Ferelden with the wind in her hair, galloping down the long Kings Highway as she waited for inspiration as to where she would go for safety. It had been seeing a legion of Templars whom remained in the service of the Divine that gave her the inspiration. If she had received word from Alistair, then it was possible Leliana had also heard from Aidan.

Aidan's marriage to Anora might have been one of convenience, but even she recognised the two people had found common ground that turned their relationship to something warmer. However, Leliana remained in the mind of her brother. The bond between two people who had face the Blight, soothed each other and loved each other in that time could not compare with anything he could achieve with Anora.

Not that Elissa relished the thought of visiting the Right Hand of the Divine. The two women had come to blows a year earlier than Leliana had been unable to track down Aidan Cousland with the intention of having him lead an Inquisition to end the Mage-Templar War. Elissa had still been residing in Amaranthine at the time. The two women had argued on the battlements of the castle. Ending only when Elissa screamed that her brother had not given his heart to her only be used as a puppet when it suited.

Elissa had never set foot in Haven, nor ascended to the mountain top chamber that had held the Ashes of Andraste during the Blight. The mission to recover them had been carried out by the strongest members of Aidan's companions. She would never forget the look in Alistair's eyes when he recounted the experience of reaching the Urn to her. For a man who had developed a deep sense of irreverence for the Chantry and its workings, she could see he was visibly moved to be deemed worthy enough to look upon them.

Despite that, Elissa knew the village, now a town of minor importance had changed dramatically. With the Avvarian villagers forced out by a Ferelden landowner of Orlesian descent who had previously shown no interest in the area, the place had an element of grandeur about it that did not keep to the simple manner of Ferelden.

Elissa, in her dyed woollen dress and fur lined cloak, felt demonstrably under dressed. However, unlike many of the visitors to this mountain side town, she was one of the few who could claim to be warm.

The Chantry overlooking the village was Elissa's first port of call. While commoners swathed to catch even just a glimpse of the Divine, Elissa put to use the title afforded to her by being not only the sister of the King, but married to the last remaining heir of the Theirin name. The Templar's consulted their records to match her seal to confirm her identity before being waved through.

'I hoped to speak with Sister Nightingale,' she announced to the Chancellor after being ushered into the Chantry. 'I have business of a personal nature.'

'The Sister is detained on business within the Free Marches,' Roderick announced. 'You are the first not to ask for an audience with Her Most Holy.'

Elissa raised her eyebrows at the suspicious note in his voice. 'Her Most Holy has much work to do,' she replied, offering a small bow to the Chancellor. 'But I am here to act as your most worthy servant should you need it.'

Roderick looked as if the last thing they needed was the help of a nomadic Fereldan Princess. As a result was not called until Sister Nightingale and Cassandra Pentaghast returned with Varric Tethras.

'Those tall tales of yours finally get you in trouble?' Elissa asked, putting a tankard of mead down in front of Varric.

She had tracked the dwarf down to the Tavern an hour or so after his arrival. With the Conclave now in full swing atop the mountain in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Varric's testimony would not be heard for some days as other evidence from the embattled sides was presented to the Divine.

He leant back and chuckled, accepting the mead with a silent toast. 'Seems my Tale of the Champion has been turning heads,' he replied.

Elissa laughed as she took a seat. 'And here I was thinking it would be Hard in Hightown that would cause all the trouble.'

'She put a knife through my original copy,' Varric said, blowing out breath of air.

'Leliana?'

'N'ah,' he replied, 'she'd have just stabbed me in the back. Cassandra.'

Elissa nodded her head as she took a sip of her own tankard. 'I'd advise to remain armed in front of her at all times.'

Varric petted his trusty bow. 'Bianca will protect me.' He took another sip. 'What about you? Orders of the Queen or your own curiosity?'

'The Queen would never entrust such an important diplomatic incident to me. Not after our little visit out to Tervinter,' she said. 'I don't think she's actually over the horror of it.'

'Alistair certainly made an impression,' intoned Varric.

Elissa shook her head in a disapproving manner. She was just about to open her mouth to answer when the door to the tavern nearly flew off its hinges. The door was filled by an impressive sized man, but he looked tired, eyes red, slightly watery. She had seen it before in those who attempted to withdraw from Lyrium. A few Templar recruits to the Warden's had attempted it with varying degrees of success. Being told by Alistair that a Templar didn't need Lyrium to perform the magic disrupting talents had inspired some to aspire to his level of accomplishment.

'Curly,' Varric declared in a jubilant manner.

'Curly' threw Varric a disgusted look. Elissa knew how he felt. During their last meeting the dwarf had insisted on calling her 'Princess' because he didn't call anyone by their name and 'Red' was too obvious. The quest into the darkest recesses of Antiva and Seheron became a daily reminder of the title she had shunned in Ferelden. However, when she queried it, he came up with the most extraordinary reply as to why the name stuck.

'Curly' bowed to Elissa, hand over his heart. 'Lady Cousland, Sister Nightingale would like the pleasure of your company.'

'I bet,' muttered Elissa under her breath, a wink to Varric before she knocked back the rest of her tankard.

Elissa pulled her deer skin cloak around her shoulders as she followed the well attired soldier across the village and passed the cordon at the Chantry. He had clearly been a Templar for a long time, affecting the rigidness Alistair had proclaimed to be an art form.

'I'm guessing 'Curly' isn't your real name,' she said taking a few steps to catch up to him.

He glanced across his shoulder at her. 'Cullen,' he said.

She cocked her head to the side as she contemplated his demeanour. From the side view she could make up dark lines in his face and scars from the battles he had been party too, but before she could question it any further, she was presented to Leliana.

The Right Hand of the Divine had donned robes of the Chantry to hide her true nature. To look at her, no one would believe her to be a ruthless spy who seemed to have left her heart behind in the ruins of Lothering. Elissa wondered if Aidan had chosen his path to remain with her rather than marry Anora for the sake of stabilising the country in the wake of Alistair's refusal to be King if Leliana would have landed on a more amenable path.

Leliana bowed first to Cullen, then to Elissa. 'Thank you,' she said to the solider in a tone indicating his dismissal before holding out a hand to show Elissa the direction they would be going. 'Commander Cullen will be good for the Inquisition. He is the same Templar we rescued from the Ferelden Circle in the Blight.'

Elissa had not managed to find Aidan and his band of companions before they had experienced the terrors waiting for them in the tower of Kinloch Hold. None of them would speak about it for some time. She only got the story out of Aidan after plying him with too much mead. She racked her brain for reference to a Cullen but it didn't come to her.

'I'll tell you the rest later,' said Leliana recognising her inability to recall what had happened. 'Chancellor Rodrick said you wished to see me?'

Elissa nodded as they were led out of the towering sermon room of the Chantry to a small offside room that acted as a living quarters for someone. She was unsure as to whether it was Leilana's room, or one she had borrowed for the purposes of this conversation.

'Yes,' replied Elissa, clasping her hands behind her back and turning to gaze up at a fresco of Andraste in the flames. 'I had hoped to obtain news of my brother.'

'And by extension, Alistair?' Leliena asked in a wry tone. 'No,' she said, her voice dropping to a sad tone. 'I had hoped upon my return to find something. It has been a long time now.'

Elissa nodded in agreement. 'Two years,' she said, her hand pressing to a chain over her neck. She dropped her head, but glanced over her shoulder. 'I had a note.'

The four words escaped her as if they had been bubbling up for weeks. She had wanted to tell Fergus, but had sensed the potential danger he was in. 'Tell no one where you are going' were specific instructions. Leliana was far more robust than Fergus. No one would know she had fled to the Conclave.

'What did it say?' asked Leliana, walking around Elissa so they were facing each other.

'Leave Highever, tell no one where you are going and burn this letter,' she repeated. 'All in Alistair's hand.'

Leliana turned a shade of white at the same moment the stain glass windows shattered.