Summary: She had the power, and she had the knowledge. And after years of living a dull life, she decided, well, 'fuck that, let's have some fun'. Because what's more fun than fucking around with your favorite characters from one of your favorite games? Surely not playing said game. Not when you can just snap your fingers and see them in flesh.

All while talking to your imaginary friends, weird antics, cursing everybody in Polish, and text shirts. All hail text shirts.

Very Modern Girl in Thedas. Completely weird, completely un-schematic and completely chaotic. Now with unicorns and mermaids.

WARNING: This story is meant to be just plain fun and nothing else, and, under any circumstances, should NOT be taken seriously. There's a very consciously inserted Mary Sue in there.

Prologue, in which Herald makes a new, quite eccentric Acquaintance.

He was falling. His great adventure, his everything; everything that he was, everything that he became - now it crumbled in hands of that... Thing. Of that monster. He just hoped that most of his comrades - the Inquisition - made it out alive. Nobody expected that monster to lead an army of Templars and demons at him. Nobody expected anything like that at all. They had closed the Breach - he had closed it - and they deserved to celebrate now! Not to be slaughtered like cattle! It didn't matter now, though. Nothing mattered anymore. It was cold, and it wasn't even the snow that was cold. At least others made it.

He made that last effort, for one last sassy remark, raised his hand... And suddenly found himself floating. That monstrosity lifted him with magic, and he dropped his sword, gasping for air. Somehow, even if he knew he had no right to feel it, it felt wrong. Like it was not supposed to happen.

"This ends now," the creature - Corypheus - rasped in its unsettling voice, raising other hand. "You were but a prawn..."

"Hands to yourself, Coryfucker!" a voice he didn't recognize sounded. It was strong, and feminine, and young, and resonating the power. He felt a hand grab his collar, and whatever spell that had him in the air lifted from him, and the creature was now surprised and angry.

"How dare you-?!" it shrieked, but didn't receive any answer. He covered his ears instinctively, as whoever saved him took a deep breath; and yelled. But it didn't sound like a yell, more like... A tune. Singing. Song resonating with magic so strongly, that creature's dragon backed, curled and shrieked, maybe in pain. Corypheus himself let out a muffled gasp and backed, gripping his head. But the voice resonated still, weakening, but strong nonetheless. He heard a thud, and a whirl, and something as if the catapult set off and shot-

"Curse you, songstress!" creature yowled, and it was gone, off on its dragon's back.

And then he was falling. And floating. He didn't remember, when the cold darkness swallowed him whole. He only remember feeling the worried tune in the singing.

~•(x)•~

When he came to his senses, he couldn't have known how much time has passed, where he was or, if he even still was. He felt warmth of the fire, small, albeit glowing. And a body, sitting right next to him, shivering and cursing in language he didn't quite recognize. He groaned, bringing his hand to his face only to realize just how sore his body was, and groaned again. The person by him shifted, their muttering silenced instantly, and he could almost feel the gaze on him. Something made him not want to open his eyes. To look, to even move. Maker, it hurt. Bruises, perhaps cracked bones. It wasn't difficult to breathe, but it hurt.

"You must feel like shit, don't you?" a voice asked, and he recognized it from before. Much, much weaker than before, but he could still feel the magic lingering atop of each word. The voice was happy, yet concerned, and raspy, yet girly, and young, and fresh.

"Mhm," he managed to utter, still unwilling to open his eyes or move. Speaking proved to be more painful than breathing. "Where..."

"We're somewhere... Somewhere under Haven," voice answered helpfully. "Coryfucker ran off on his lizard, and we set off the avalanche. whole town in buried under the snow, and so are we. There is a path forward, though, but I need you in state more suitable to fight than this."

"Mhm," he agreed. So, he was alive, but the people? "Every...one?"

"Whoever survived the assault and made it to the Chantry safely left the town," voice answered again, happy to help. "They didn't look for you, though. Couldn't. Too big threat, with enemy forces. Not to mention the blizzard raging about right now."

He hummed in acknowledgement and approval.

"You weren't out for long," voice continued. He was grateful for the explanation, he hadn't much strength to speak and ask. "I barely managed to set up that pathetic excuse of a camp and do some first aid to your wounds. I'm no doctor, though, so I'd rather see a real medic if I were you. When we reach everyone, that is."

"Thank you," he uttered, feeling better with every passing while.

"Sit up," voice demanded. "I know it hurts, but you need something warm and energetic to eat, or you'll pass out on me. I don't feel like carrying you, man, you're, like, twice my weight, if not more."

He complied, and opened his eyes slowly. Wherever they were in now was dark, and lit only by the small, crude fireplace. He laid on some dry hay, and was covered by a fabric he didn't recognize. It was a coat, and it was warm, although unlike anything he seen before. He looked slightly up, and nearly skipped a heartbeat. It was a she, alright. Every piece of a she. But looking like anyone he's ever seen in his whole life.

Her hair was cut very short, and painted crimson reflecting the flames. There were orange streaks in her hair, too, longer, reaching below her chin unlike rest of the hair. Her eyes glowed with fire they reflected, but he was willing to bet they were brown. She had her lower lip pierced with two circles, and her eyebrows on each side. She wore an earring with white feather attached to it, and had her eyelashes blackened. She wore a skin-colored, seemingly woolen cap on her head, black, long-sleeved shirt, black, loose pants and skin-colored, slightly heeled shoes. She was holding strange, rectangular, glowing item in her hand. He could also see that her skin was tattooed - it started on outer side of the palm, and reached up to her neck, almost onto her face. He was willing to bet she had them on whole length of both of her hands. There was something white on her shirt, letters, but he was too weak, and didn't see whole thing, to read it.

"I don't look... Well, I don't look normal, do I?" girl giggled, noticing his staring. He shook his head gently, as much as he could. "Well, that's quite obvious, given I'm from completely different world."
He wanted to ask. He really did. But he was too weak to sit up, and speaking would drain him as well. He figured he would just ask her later.

"Here, have this," she said, handing him a bottle. It was made of a material he never seen before. It was like glass, but much thinner, and softer, and yet sturdy. The liquid in it, pink, was slightly warm.

"Don't eye it like it's going to kill you, dummy. It's just strawberry-flavored milk," she giggled cheerfully, grabbing another bottle herself. It was exactly the same, except it was half-emptied. She opened it (his own bottle wasn't closed) and emptied the rest at one go. That encouraged him, a bit. Well, she wasn't helping just to kill him, wasn't she? That would make absolutely no sense whatsoever. So he sniffed the drink - it smelled like strawberries, alright - and took a sip. And honestly? This was one of best decisions he ever made in his life. He drank it in small gulps, and not even because his throat ached, but because it was so good and he wanted to taste it. It took him a longer while, but he was already feeling much better. Good enough to talk, that is.

"Thank you," he uttered, wiping his lips.

"Nah," she shrugged. "There's nothing to thank me for. Yet."

"But you fended off Corypheus. And saved me!" he argued, but immediately regretted raising his voice. It hurt.

"Fended off," she hissed. "Which means Coryfucker is, sadly, still alive. The state of things I seek to change. Than you can thank me. Assuming I'll take active part in bringing that fanatic down."

"Fanatic?" he asked.

"You talked to him, you should know," she shrugged. "Dude thinks he's fit to be a god. Nobody is fit to be a god, if you ask me. No human, at least, and, boy, was he one. Once. Before he became darkspawn, that is. Easily corruptible, and he's already corrupted. Even if you have great power, you need great friends to keep you rooted down so you won't use it to take over the world."

"You speak with wisdom," he admitted, and she snorted. And then laughed.

"Wisdom? Dude, please, I'm just a dumb young adult who barely grew up, and accordingly to law only, don't mind me blabbering. I'm Annie by the way."

Now, he felt stupid. They started a philosophical conversation without even exchanging the names. And the lady had to do it first. What a shame, especially to him, man supposedly raised to have manners.

"I am Maxwell. Maxwell Trevelyan," he introduced himself, and eyed an extended hand for a while, before shaking it. She had surprisingly strong grip.

"Well, Max. You don't mind me calling you Max, do you?" she eyed him, rummaging through black, leathery sack that looked as otherwordly as she herself. He shook his head, and she hummed in acknowledgement. "So, we should gather as much strength as we can. And wait the blizzard out, so, here. I have lot of sweet stuff with me most of the time, they give you the biggest energy boost."
She handed him a tray of what looked like cookies. Not plain, with brown dots on them. He figured it must've been chocolate. It was rare to see it, because it's expensiveness made it rare treat even for nobles. But one thing didn't seem right. She said sweets, and chocolate was bitter. He took the cookie nonetheless, though, because the drink was delicious, so the cookie could be as well.
And delicious it was. He devoured whole pack of nine out of dozen cookies, to Annie's utter amazement.

"I..." he gasped. "I apologize. I shouldn't have..."

"It's alright, Max," she said, raising her hand, and pulled another package out of her sack. "You just danced with the death. Quite literally, mind you. And you fell down hard, even if I softened the impact. And all I did was fooling around, so eat up. I have plenty."

"I wouldn't call saving my life fooling around."

"Shut up and eat while there's stuff left to eat."

That encouraged him. This time cookies were different - instead of having pieces of chocolate in them, they seemed to be coated with it. Those, too, proved to be absolutely delicious. Then, they sat in relative silence, Annie gazing into the shining object she held, touching it, albeit refusing to explain what it was or how it worked, except for 'not magic'. She claimed to explain it all once they reached relatively safer place. Where Inquisition forces could station, and grow... Funny. He had to admit that, for a while, he was certain she was implying a stronghold. But that was impossible, was it? They had no stronghold.

"Creature… Corypheus," Max started after a while. "It – he – called you a songstress. What did he mean?" he asked, eyeing the girl. Annie flinched visibly.

"The thing is, he isn't supposed to know that," she answered honestly. "This is my second time ever visiting this world, and I've neither interacted with him, nor revealed this name to anyone. That worries me. A lot," she admitted, looking at the fire.

"Why?" Max inquired.

"Because that most likely means that he's acquaintances with someone who knows about me. And nobody should really know me. Nobody actually does as far as I know. Not from me at least. Especially not from this world. And I don't even have any suspects or trails. I don't know if it's more worrying or unsettling," she shivered. "Both, I think."

"But he didn't seem to pose a threat to you," Max said, looking into the burning embers.

"The more he knows, the more dangerous he becomes," Annie answered. "If he knows my powers, he can protect himself from it. To a degree, but can. And can deal a blow of his own."

Maybe he shouldn't, but something made Maxwell believe, that this exceptionally odd girl was somewhat an angel sent from the heavens to protect him. Funny, given that heavens were, once again, split apart in hue of green. Nevertheless, something made him believe that she was not an easy opponent to fight. That this seemingly lithe frame held power beyond imagination; power that even Corypheus feared. Maybe he shouldn't. He didn't even know her, and for all he knew at all, she could've been a demon with a false safety aura.

She could've even been just a daydream of his fatigued mind.

"Sleep," Annie inquired. "I'll wake you up in an hour or two, you need to rest a bit."

He complied without a word.

~•(x)•~

He awoke – was startled out of the Fade, as much as he could be in it these crooked times – by a strange, yet loud, yowling sound. He shot up with a gasp, sitting up faster than he should, but didn't even really flinch. The itching of his sore muscles, it had appeared, magically vanished, mostly. Only his bones still felt sore, and breathing hurt a bit.

What got his attention when the yowling stopped, was an amused chuckle.

"Sweet Andraste, what was that?" he gasped, looking at Annie, who kept waving the strange rectangular glowing object in her hand. The same one from before.

"That was an alarm clock," she answered. "I tried talking to you, and nudging you, but you were sleeping like a bear. So, I had to use my last resort."

"That thing made that horrendous noise?" he questioned, and Annie just nodded, slowly standing. Her body was stiff, it seemed, but so was his.

"Yup," Annie answered. "You know, you're not the only heavy-sleeper on the house. Sometimes, which happen most of the time, this is the only thing capable of waking me up."

"Why would you use that?" Max asked, cocking his head like a curious puppy. "What is so important?"

"School," she answered. "Don't try to understand, my world is significantly different than yours."

"Oh. May I ask though, what are you studying?"

"Art," Annie said, shrugging. "I'm studying art. I aspire to be a digital artist and a painter, as much as I know that first one tells you nothing. Nevertheless, move your sorry ass. We have places to reach and people to find."

Oh, right, the Inquisition. But that thing that yowled-

"It's a phone," Annie supplied, catching him eyeing the object that stopped glowing and went black. He could swear… "And no, it's not magic. Magic doesn't even exist in my world."

"Then how…?"

"Exception confirms the rule," she answered, then stopped, moving her head to the right as if she listened to someone. And then she laughed. "Dia, you dork," she managed between the laughs.

"Dia?" Maxwell asked, cocking his head, confused.

"Oh, don't mind me, just talking to my imaginary friend."

"Is this normal for people from your world?"

"Wh- Gosh, no. No, it isn't. 's only me as far as I'm concerned. Maybe I'll explain. One day."

"You remind me of Sera," Max admitted after a while, and Annie rolled her eyes.

"I'm not even an elf, and definitely not blonde. And sure as hell can't shot from a bow- And please, Max, I don't act like lunatic five-year-old. Or do I?"

"You know about Sera," Max said, more to himself, answered with a nod. "I should have expected that. Is there something you don't know?"

"Dunno, but surely there are things I can forget," she shrugged. "Nothing I can't look up, though," she waved the now-dim object – phone – before tucking it into her pocket. "Up, Max, we're going."

So he stood up and followed, for the lack of anything better to do. It's not like he was going to stay here – he had to find others, rejoin them, and then plan out their another move. Closing Breach for the second time won't be as easy as it was at first, he was certain. But… Looking at Annie, that weird, cheerful girl beaming with joy in this frozen hell, he couldn't really care. It felt possible, within reach. Why he trusted her, he didn't know. He just did. Maybe because of her personality, cheerful and bubbly, slightly childish, yet mature and trustworthy.

She helped him up with an ease, and they set off.

Solas will be all over her, Max suddenly realized. Everything about her – speech, looks, movements, aura – screamed 'otherwordly' at the top of their lungs. Solas loved everything that wasn't from this world; or he wouldn't be so interested in fade. Would he?

"A penny for your thoughts?" Annie's voice cut through his wondering.

"I- Uh. What?" firstly, he didn't even know what a 'penny' was.

"I asked what are you thinking about so hard," Annie snorted.

"Oh. Uh. I- Well. Solas will absolutely love you, and all that I'm-from-other-world thing about you," he answered honestly, and Annie rolled her eyes.

"Maybe, he will," she agreed. "But firstly, he'll have to remove that stick from his ass and see something more than the tip of his nose."

Maxwell laughed. He didn't even care for the cold fire that burned his lungs, at the dull ache of his throat and ribs. She was so right about Solas, he couldn't help it. She laughed with him too, anyway.

~•(x)•~

They continued through some kind of ruined tunnels, and he didn't even know where they were. Annie was the one navigating, and so far they didn't get lost, yet. Well, it was pretty hard to get lost, to be honest – there was the only way that was forward, and there were no side roads at all. So either they would find a way out, or they would remain there. Ruin turned into a cave soon enough – cave with icicles instead of stone formations, often with ice on the walls and ground.

Soon enough they encountered enemies. Some minor wraiths, no big deal. But his mark started pulsating; not exactly unpleasant feeling. Weird, though. So he shot his hand forward and-

And actually created a rift. Small, but it sucked wraiths right in. And then disappeared, as if it wasn't there in the first place. It was tiresome. But there was a way out further on, and Annie tugged his hand. So he moved forward. They moved forward.

It was white, and dark, and cold – the blizzard hasn't fully calmed yet, and the wind was blowing. Annie instantly shivered, cursing and covering herself more with that big black clothing she gave him as cover earlier, muttering something like 'should've brought a winter jacket'. Right outside there was a half-buried cart. She tugged him again, in cart's direction and then forward, shielding her eyes from the wind with one hand, and desperately holding to him with the other, pressing against his side as much as she could. Funny, he didn't even notice her getting close in the first place. But she gave as little warmth as she had in this weather, and he was more than happy to accept it, partly shielding her from the wind in return.

She led him through the white, and through the wind, in absolute minimal sight range.

"You sure you know the way?" he asked, shivering.

"Yes," she hissed, clutching to him even more. "Shit, it's so fucking cold out here-"

"I know," he agreed. "I know."

Wolves howled, and he couldn't even tell where and how far.

Soon enough, trees came to view, but it wasn't reassuring. Not with the constant howling. When one sounded particularly close, Annie whimpered, and her brown eyes ignited blue, and blue sparks cracked around her nails, which also glowed, although dimly. He couldn't blame her, though. He would most likely be too hurt, to cold and too frightened to proceed on his own. And she feels frightened, too, so tense under his hand he doesn't know how come she hasn't collapsed yet.

But if she did, he would, too. And they would die. So she stubbornly stumbles forward, frantically looking around whenever new howl sounds. They come to a wall of stone, with a canyon between them, and a camp before them; blizzard cleared at least, but the fireplace is under the snow nevertheless. It's cold – but it's recent. Annie looks relieved, and impatient. She tugs him further, between the giant black rocks hovering above the whiteness of snow.

It's calf-deep, the white cold. Recent from the blizzard, no tracks. It's hard to walk, for both of them. They're both freezing, tired, done. He sees a camp, far off, and he collapses as Annie falls first, shivering wildly.

"There! It's him!" he hears Cullen yell.

"Thank the Maker!" and he would smile at Cassandra, if he weren't so tired.

He hears Annie's breath, so full of relief- And he slips, and it's dark, and cold.

~•(x)•~

He wakes to a sound of bickering. Argument, honestly. He opens his eyes, but doesn't want to move. He's safely cocooned with at least few blankets, lying on a makeshift hammock. He looks to his side, and there's Mother Giselle, with bundle of blankets latched onto her side.

"Shhh, you need rest," Mother Giselle says as soon as she notices his movement. The bundle at her side shifts and rumbles until it reveals bush of short, cherry-red hair. Annie looks at him, then at the arguing four – Cullen, Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine – and then again at him, and sighs.

"They've been at it for hours," she says, audibly unhappy about the fact. "Can't even take a nap."

"They have that luxury, thanks to you," Mother Giselle says, looking Max directly into the eye. "The enemy could not follow, and with time to doubt, we turn to blame."

"And interrupt others' rest," Annie commented, and Max couldn't help a smile. "But shit, if they continue it like this- They shouldn't fight each other. In the end, not Coryfucker, but their bickering could say bye-bye to this whole Inquisition."

She was right.

"Do we even know where Corypheus and his forces are?" he asked, and Annie shook her head fiercely.

"We don't even know where we are," she huffed, rubbing her hands.

"Which may be why, despite the forces still at his command, we don't know where he might be," Mother Giselle said.

"He sure as hell doesn't think Max' dead," Annie sighed. "Maybe he's just afraid. You know, dealing with forces I deal with, it's not easy."

"Whatever do you mean?" Mother Giselle questioned.

"He called her a songstress." Max said. "But visibly didn't expect her to meet. Maybe he went to whatever source of information he had about you and your kind?"

"If he does, the he might grid yet another attack," priestess said. "I cannot claim to know the mind of that creature."

"They're arguing about what to do next, I should-"

"No, Max," Annie cut in, hard and firm, making him quiet down instantly. "You'll only make it worse, really. They're losing their shit because of what happened. You stood, and you fell. And then you returned. From the dead. Again."

"You speak with wisdom, young one," priestess admitted, and Annie smiled. "The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more our trials seem ordained. It is hard to accept, no? What 'we' have been called to endure, what 'we', perhaps, must come to believe?"

"I didn't die, Annie," Max shook his head. "You know it – you saved me. I didn't die."

"No, you didn't," Annie agreed. "But the people know better. People know what they want to know, what they need to know at the moment. And they want you dead and risen from the dead."

"The Maker works both in the moment, and in how it is remembered," Mother Giselle added. "Can we truly know that the heavens are not with us?"

Annie snorted, but otherwise didn't comment, just shook her head.

"And Corypheus assaulting the heavens?" Max inquired.

"The Heavens, no, but the Fade? Indeed," girl huffed from under the blankets. "Magisters went into the Fade. Like, physically went in. That's not a thing you do, not when you're sane. Fade… Is a wrong place. Twisted, dark, full of all that's wrong. Who knows, maybe we should be happy that the Blight is the only souvenir they brought back from their trip."

"If this what you say is true, an Maker punished them, and now all the mankind suffers from this sin…" Mother Giselle asked. "How do you know such things, child?"

"Know your lore," she shrugged. "Although I try to not to comment on religion. You know, after dealing with my fanatically religious grandmother for last twenty years, I'm really enjoying my atheist vacation."

"But even if the shred of it is true…"

"Corypheus said he found only corruption and emptiness. No golden city. Nothing."

"Because living are not supposed to go into the Fade," Annie said.

"They are, indeed, not meant to make this journey," priestess agreed. "If he truly went there, it must've changed him without and within. Perhaps these are the lies he must heel telling himself, rather than accepting the truth. I know I could not bear such – not the scorn from the Maker."

"Mother Giselle, I just don't see how what I believe matters," Max said, sitting up. "Lies or not, he is a real, physical threat. Threat we can't match with hope alone."

He stood up and, however wobbly his walk wouldn't be, exited the tent. Annie, reluctantly leaving her blanket nest, trotted after him, still curled with what she could carry.

"Don't worry," she said. "I know the future, remember? And I know that Coryfucker will die. From your hand."

"Now you say that?" he huffed, and would be amused if not for the mood in the camp. Leliana and Josephine were sulking in the corner, Cullen was pacing around and Cassandra was pouting above the map. Nothing unexpected.

"Shadows fall," Annie sang instead of answering, "and hope has fled" she was instantly joined in by Mother Giselle.

"Steel your heart; the dawn will come."

"The night is long, and the path is dark; look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come," Annie sang, looking around with expectation in her eyes.

"The sheppard's lost, and his home is far," Leliana sung, as other voices joined in, too. "Keep to the stars, the dawn will come."

"The night is long, and the path is dark; look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come," even Cullen joined in, and Max honestly didn't expect him to sound this good. But before he knew, whole camp was singing. Whole damn camp, and he felt weird for not knowing the words. But they started kneeling before him, one after another, and he suddenly felt even weirder.

"Bare your blade and raise it high," Annie's voice was strong, and yet delicate, and he couldn't describe it in any other word than 'alluring'. Was it what meant to be a songstress? He felt magic with every word. Soothing, warm, gentle, yet daring. "Stand your ground, the dawn will come."

"The night is long, and the path is dark; look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come."

"An army needs more than an enemy. It needs a cause," Mother Giselle said, before walking away.

"Solas wants to talk to you," Annie noted, and Max heard a huff behind them.

"With both of you, actually," elf corrected. Girl, confused, shrugged, but followed nonetheless.

Annie blocked out most of their conversation. She knew exactly what it was about, and she, honestly, couldn't wait to roam Skyhold freely, and freak people out.

"Who are you, though?" Solas said, suddenly bringing Annie's attention to himself. "You come, half-carrying the Herald, then refuse to leave his side or answer any questions at all; then you start signing, and I can feel magic seeping with each word. Not to mention your outfit and demeanor. It's just…"

"Otherwordly?" Annie snorted. "Oh well, happens. How long will it take until you reach Skyhold?"

"Uh…" elf blinked, caught off-guard by her question. "It will take a week, or so, why?"

"Well then, see you in a week," Annie shrugged. "Bye, Max. By the way, I kinda-sorta-maybe made you my map marker…"

"Map marker?" man asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"It basically means that next time I teleport into this world, I'll pop up right next to you. Possibly onto you. So if I suddenly – literally – fall on your head from the sky… Well, don't freak out."

"Uh… Okay?"

"Bye, guys!"

"Wait, I-"

"Wolfy, calm down," Annie sighed, effectively shutting Solas up. He looked at her, confused and shocked, before regaining his composure. "I'll be back. But I don't feel like travelling through frozen wasteland with you when there's warm, soft bed awaiting me at home. And a cat."

"You mean, you can travel back and forth… Just like that?" Max asked, and girl nodded fiercely. "How?"

"Don't ask questions you know answers for, it's rude" she huffed. "As you said; just like that. See ya'!"

It wasn't exactly 'just like that'. She hummed a tune, and at first, nothing happened. Then, she started glowing – actually glowing, blue – and slowly turning transparent. And then, she just cracked, and shattered like a mirror, and was gone. Only the wind still carried magic-infused song that she didn't even sang.

Between the here, Between the now
Between the North, Between the South
Between the West, Between the East
Between the time, Between the place

"You've found yourself an interesting friend," Solas commented.

"You think?" Max sighed. "It will be a pain, explaining her to… Well, everyone."

"I'm fairly certain she'll handle that herself," elf answered.

"I… You know what? You're probably right. You're right most of the time. And she… I don't know if anyone can resist this bubbly personality of hers. I surely can't," he smiled. "Although it might partially be because she directly saved my life."

"She knew the song" Solas said. "And she knew me."

"She knows everything. For some reason I'm certain of that."

~•(x)•~

Annie jumped out of the mirror, it's surface wavering like water, and sneezed nearly instantly.

"You got cold from that walk, didn't you?" a thin voice asked, and girl sighed, looking at her shoulder. A blue fairy, slightly bigger than a Barbie doll, semi-transparent, with wings like a wasp and big eyes looked at her, quite annoyed.

"Oh, the forever-caring Dia," Annie snorted. "Still can't bear me calling you an imaginary friend?"

The fairy – Dia – only made a disgusted noise, before leaping off her shoulder and into the catbed. The cat, calico beast, didn't even flinch at their arrival, or at Dia making herself comfortable against its warm, fuzzy body.

"You should take Koteh with you next time," Dia said. "They're gonna love her."

"Oh, don't you worry," Annie chuckled. "I plan on winning the pure heart of a certain Spirit of Compassion with her help."

"Sneaky little bastard, that what you are. Planned it all out already?"

"Mhm."

"Knew it. Goodnight, Anna."

"Night, Dia."