"You know, Jailbird? I never thanked you," Varric said as he sat with Dellis in the Haven tavern.
"For what?" Dellis asked, raising his mug to signal the tavern keeper for a refill.
"For riding that pride demon," Varric returned with a chuckle, "and finally proving to Seeker Cassandra that most of my story of the Champion was completely believable."
Dellis laughed so hard he nearly spilled his newly refilled mug. It had been several days since the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, most of which Dellis had spent unconscious.
As Varric told it, when Dellis had sealed the rift, the shockwave had been much larger than any of the others, launching him from his precarious position atop the pride demon and knocking him cold for two days. As soon as he had awoken, Cassandra had dragged him to the Chantry and unwillingly inducted him into the Inquisition. He had tried to argue, but Cassandra simply insisted that he was necessary and thus the choice was made for him.
For some reason it had fallen to Dellis and Varric to the spend the entire day in the Frostback foothills scavenging for elfroot and other herbs the alchemist insisted were absolutely vital for the success of the Inquisition. Varric had tried to suggest that Solas be conscripted for the task, but the apostate claimed he had other pressing business to attend to, and the so the two rogues took a romp through the snow alone.
"I swear my boots are soaked through," Varric complained into his mug. "How elfroot even grows in the snow is anyone's guess."
"I'd rather not guess," Dellis joked. "By the way, you're going to have to find me a new nickname."
"Why's that?" Varric inquired.
"I'd rather not give our Seeker friend any more reminders that she wanted to stab me," Dellis explained with a smirk. "Besides, I think you're losing your creative touch."
Varric gave a hearty laugh. "I'll see what I can do for you."
"Don't get into any trouble without me," Dellis ordered with a lopsided smirk as he drained his mug and got up from the table. His dwarven companion nodded as Dellis turned to leave. After his foray into the wilds he hoped to get a few hours of sleep before some new crisis reared its head.
"Herald, a moment."
Dellis sighed a little too loudly as he saw Seeker Cassandra waiting for him just outside the tavern, watching him expectantly. So much for that nap, he thought. Dellis had not spoken to Cassandra outside the company of the rest of the Inquisition since he had been inducted as the Herald of Andraste, and he had been dreading whatever awkward conversation they might have.
"It's Dellis," he corrected. She crossed her arms, staring at him sternly. "My name," he explained. "It's Dellis, not Herald."
"I am aware," Cassandra replied in an even tone. "I hoped we might talk a moment."
"One whole moment?" Dellis asked with smirk. She glared and pointed toward Haven's gates. "Don't tell me you're taking me out back to put me out of my misery."
"You should be so lucky," Cassandra returned with a slight laugh, prompting Dellis to raise an eyebrow.
"You do have a sense of humor," he noted with a crooked grin. "And here I had thought you were actually a golem."
"Don't make me regret speaking to you, Thief."
"What exactly is it you think I stole?" Dellis asked her sincerely. "You keep calling me thief." Cassandra said nothing. "I suppose if you give me enough time I could probably steal Leliana's heart.
"Unlikely," Cassandra laughed. "You are lucky you are the Herald of Andraste else I might rethink sparing your life."
"It's a name," Dellis replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Do you not believe it?" Cassandra asked as they stepped through the gate.
"Do you?" Dellis countered, satisfied to see the conflicted expression on her face. "You say that survivors saw me burst from the fade with Andraste herself behind me. I remember none of it. It sounds awfully far-fetched."
"Whatever you are, I will not claim that you were not exactly what we needed exactly when we needed it," Cassandra declared as they walked through the gate. Dozens of soldiers littered the area outside Haven's walls, practicing drills or cleaning their weapons. Dellis could see Commander Cullen pacing amidst them, barking orders and waving his hands in an overly animated fashion. Dellis assumed the training exercises were not going quite as planned.
"Clearly, I'm just lucky," he replied sarcastically.
"I understand that you do not wish to be here," Cassandra returned, "however you would not be safe elsewhere. All of Thedas knows you as the killer of Most Holy."
"I didn't kill her," Dellis insisted, annoyed.
"I know," Cassandra admitted after a moment, lowering her head slightly.
"You- You do?" Dellis faltered, surprised to hear the Seeker acknowledge his innocence.
Cassandra nodded with a sigh. "I believe I may have... misjudged you."
"That sounded painful to admit," Dellis smirked, his amusement fading at her immediate glare. "I'm sorry. I'm sure there was a reason you brought me out here."
"Yes," Cassandra agreed, regaining her composure. "I wanted to address your swordsmanship."
"Why what now?"
"Your swordplay at the Temple of Sacred Ashes was weak, at best," she explained. "You will be in danger if you do not improve."
"My swordplay is poor because I'm not a swordsman," Dellis told her with a chuckle. "It's not exactly my weapon of choice."
"You have a weapon of choice?" Cassandra asked with a hint of amusement. Dellis gave her a subtle glower before pointing to a weapons rack full of bows. "You are an archer?"
"That's putting it formally, but yes," Dellis agreed, walking to the rack and picking up a shortbow and a single arrow. "I'm more of a sniper."
"I see," she replied skeptically.
"You need evidence, I understand," Dellis said with his characteristic smirk. "What shall I shoot?"
Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "The gargoyle," she ordered, pointing to a statue above the gate.
"You're joking," Dellis laughed. "Even you could hit that."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she glared.
Dellis pointed toward the trebuchet in the distance. In front of it was a wood panel with a crudely-painted version of the Inquisition logo. "I will bullseye that logo."
"From here?" she scoffed. "Impossible."
"Watch me," he returned with a smile, nocking the arrow and pulling back the string. As he released it, the arrow shot forward with impressive speed, cleaving through tree branches and arcing directly toward the trebuchet. Dellis watched with a smile as the Seeker's face slacked in shock when the arrow pierced the Inquisition logo dead center.
"How did you...?"
"I'm a sniper," Dellis reminded her.
"Very well," Cassandra replied, straightening her jacket. "I will have you outfitted with the necessary equipment before we next venture away from Haven."
"Yes, Madame Leader," Dellis returned with the most sarcastic salute he could muster. She snorted at him in disgust and waved him away.
Dellis happily trotted off back toward the encampment, eager to be away from the Seeker's piercing gaze.
Cassandra sighed deeply as she gazed down at the Inquisition's war table, now littered with pins representing various objectives they hoped to secure. She would never admit it, but she was completely overwhelmed. Despite her impassioned declaration to Chancellor Roderick, Cassandra knew she could not possibly lead the Inquisition. Not forever, anyway. She was skilled at making war and serving, but leading was not a thing she could or wanted to do.
"You must let go of this," a voice echoed from the hallway. Cassandra looked up to see Leliana closing the door behind her and approaching the war table.
"I do not know your meaning," Cassandra replied dismissively, returning her gaze to the war table.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Leliana continued. "You're hurt. I understand, but you cannot take it out on the Herald."
"Justinia's death hurt us both," Cassandra reminded her, continuing to peruse the numerous pins below them.
"You know I am not speaking of Most Holy," Leliana accused, her tone flat and even. Cassandra visibly flinched, eliciting a sigh from her companion. "I know you did not want me to know but as spymaster I must know the members of the Inquisition."
Cassandra breathed in slowly, her teeth grinding and her hands clenched in fists. Leliana was right, she knew. She had let her personal feelings affect the way she behaved during the assault on the Breach, and it was beneath her.
Cassandra could not help but feel violated that Leliana had used her spy network to find out about her past, but she was not surprised and did not blame her. In fact, she would not have been surprised if Leliana had known these secrets for years.
"I will try," Cassandra agreed with no small measure of reluctance. She pointed to a pin on the map raising her gaze to meet Leliana's. "Our runners tell me a mother of the chantry, Mother Giselle, has taken refuge in the Crossroads, near Redcliffe."
"Ah yes, Mother Giselle," Leliana purred in response, walking the room thoughtfully. "I am familiar with her. With the right push she could be an asset to the Inquisition."
"Send your agents," Cassandra suggested.
"No," Leliana returned, her brow furrowed. "My agents will not be enough. The Herald must go."
Cassandra stood to her full height and looked at the other women incredulously. "The Herald?" she repeated. "A man you tell me is nothing but a common thief, and a Fereldan no less."
Leliana clucked chidingly. "And what is wrong with Fereldans?" she asked, her arms crossed.
Cassandra's stony expression softened, her lips slipping into a smile. She knew full well that Leliana was spoken for by the Hero of Ferelden, a man whose courage and heroism would be enough to gain even Cassandra's respect, had they been able to locate him, but just like the Champion he had vanished without a trace.
"Nothing, I suppose," she admitted with the slightest hint of a smile. It faded as quickly as it had appeared. "I do not see how the Herald can help with this matter. He is-"
"Our best chance," Leliana finished for her. "Heroes can be born from the humblest of origins."
"You do not need to remind me of the tale of the Champion," she scoffed, rubbing her fingers in circles at her temple to stave away her growing headache. "Varric has done well enough several times already and I would not wish to subject myself to it again."
"You should take the Herald to see Mother Giselle," Leliana suggested with a smile.
"Yes, yes," Cassandra replied with a dismissive wave of her gloved hand, her headache worsening as the spymaster left her alone in the war room. Everything about the Herald grated her nerves. He was of low birth and it was painfully obvious. While she felt confident that he had not caused the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she was equally sure that it did not require her to enjoy his company.
With a loud sigh she moved to the edge of the war room where she had left her sword and shield. She picked the sword up and slid it into its sheath before slinging the shield onto her back. Several priests quickly moved out of her path as she nearly stormed out of the Chantry.
The trip had taken several hours by horse, nearly all of which was filled the most painful silence Dellis had ever endured in his life. Cassandra had burst into the small tavern as if the world were ending, insisting that he and Varric join her immediately. Dellis had not even been allowed to finish his drink.
After outfitting him with minimum necessary combat gear, Cassandra had explained that his presence was required as the Herald of Andraste. They were to ride toward Redcliffe, to a small village known as the Crossroads, where a Revered Mother named Giselle awaited them. She had apparently asked to speak with the Herald of Andraste specifically. Dellis was not looking forward to the meeting.
"...and don't say anything sacrilegious." Cassandra had been instructing him on the proper etiquette for addressing a Revered Mother for the better part of an hour. Truthfully Dellis had stopped paying attention almost entirely, heeding her words just enough to nod at the appropriate moments.
"You know, we won't all catch fire if I say something wrong," Dellis reminded her as their horses trotted along side by side. She snorted in disgust.
"The fate of Inquisition hangs in the balance of what you do or not say to Mother Giselle," Cassandra explained. "The least I can do is ensure that you do not offend her."
"Are you sure you're not worried about him offending you?" Varric asked from behind them. Cassandra ignored him, though Dellis was sure he saw her lip twitch.
"I'm sure Seeker Cassandra is concerned only with the success of the Inquisition," Solas offered diplomatically, as he usually did. Dellis smiled for a moment when Cassandra's features began to mellow. Solas always had a way to remind her of duty, and it never failed to diffuse whatever anger was boiling beneath her armor.
"There," Cassandra announced, pointing ahead of them. Through the trees Dellis could see what appeared to be an Inquisition banner fluttering in the breeze. He could also see refugees in the distance, but they appeared to be running.
"Templars," Solas shouted, swiftly dismounting his horse and readying his staff. Cassandra was already on foot, sword and shield at the ready.
"Why would they attack us?" Dellis asked, regretting the question immediately as an arrow whizzed past his head. Without further delay he leapt down off the horse. As he regained his footing he pulled his bow out of the sheath on his saddle and plucked an arrow from the quiver.
Dellis watched as a templar knight plowed shield-first into Cassandra. Despite her size and skill, she was nearly bowed over. After a moment's hesitation, Dellis lined up a shot and released the arrow, sending it sailing toward the templar. He smiled to himself as the arrow punched right through the chainmail protecting the man's neck, sending him writhing to the ground.
As Dellis turned he could see Solas busy weaving intricate barriers around the group to protect them from enemy magic. In the moments since engaging the templars they had been flanked by a group of apostates. It was clear they had wandered into the middle of a battlefield, and with both Solas and Cassandra with them they were likely mistaken for enemies by both sides. Or perhaps both sides were simply indiscriminate in their targets. Regardless, they now had enemies both ahead and behind.
"We're flanked, Seeker," Varric shouted as he reloaded Bianca.
"I can see that," Cassandra growled, pushing forward into a templar knight and knocking him off balance. With a quick and efficient thrust she speared the soldier through the abdomen, leaving him jerking in the grass, before moving on to her next target. Dellis had to give her credit. She was a machine built for war, and her skill was impressive.
Dellis pulled another arrow from his quiver and quickly snapped off a shot at a mage attempting to overcome Solas. The arrow sailed into the woman's chest, sending her soaring backwards as Solas hurled a fireball to finish her and her companion.
"I think that is all of them," Cassandra announced, a hint of fatigue in her otherwise unwavering voice.
"I wonder if it's like this everywhere," Dellis asked aloud, placing the bow back in its sheath and grabbing his horse's reigns. The group walked the horses the rest of the way to the Crossroads to avoid spooking them any further.
As they approached, Dellis could see Inquisition scouts moving between hovels and groups of soldiers. He could vaguely make out what appeared to be the Revered Mother among a group of the injured. She seemed to be in deep conversation with one of the wounded soldiers.
"Come," Cassandra ordered, motioning for one of the soldiers stationed there to take the horses. The three followed the Seeker toward the injured, but were stopped by one of the soldiers.
"This is the Herald of Andraste?" one of them asked, not hiding his contempt.
"That would be me," Dellis confirmed, earning a glare from the soldier as well as Cassandra.
"Mother Giselle wishes to speak to the Herald," the soldier said, putting a hand up to block her as Cassandra took a step forward. "Alone."
Cassandra turned toward Dellis, her expression somewhere between bewilderment and rage. He said nothing, but moved quickly when she motioned him on.
"Why does she want to speak to me alone?" Dellis asked the soldier once they were out of earshot.
"How should I know?" the man replied, rolling his eyes. "Mother Giselle is just over there. We're watching you, Herald."
Dellis approached the woman slowly. Despite not having spent much time in Chantries over the years, even Dellis could easily recognize the Revered Mother by her long robe and squared-off headdress. She turned as she heard his footsteps, smiling and standing to greet him.
"You must be the one they are calling Herald of Andraste," she said with a warm smile. Her accent was heavily Orlesian, but easy enough to understand. Dellis sighed in relief. Half the time he couldn't tell what Orlesians were actually saying.
"Alas, not a title I chose myself," Dellis replied, bowing slightly as Cassandra had very strongly recommended.
The Revered Mother smiled, bowing her head in respect. "I am glad that you came, Herald."
"Why did you ask for me?" Dellis asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm just an unlucky man that was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Or perhaps the right place at the right time," she proposed in contrast, motioning for him to walk with her. He followed as they walked through the camp. Dellis was afraid to look behind him to see how horrified Cassandra was. Varric was no doubt enjoying himself.
"I don't understand why you asked me here," Dellis said after a moment. "I thought the Chantry denounced me."
"They are afraid of you," Giselle explained. "To be honest, some are grandstanding, hoping that their position against you will increase their chances of being named the next Divine."
Dellis scratched his head. "So, you don't think I'm a heathen?"
He was surprised to hear Mother Giselle laugh at the comment. "You do not look to be a heathen or a demon, however the clerics have heard nothing but frightful tales of you," she explained. "You must convince them."
"Just... convince them?" Dellis asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think it's that easy?"
"You need not convince them all," Mother Giselle explained. "Seed doubt among the clerics and they will no longer stand against you as a unified voice."
"And you think that will work?"
She smiled warmly at him. "I truly do not know if you are the Maker's chosen but I have hope, and hope is what the people need most."
"I don't know if I'm the right person to be the role model of Thedas," Dellis laughed.
"You are one of the people," Giselle reminded him. "You are not a noble to which they cannot relate, and that will work in your favor."
"I hadn't thought of it that way." Dellis stopped walking, prompting Mother Giselle to stop as well. "Why are you helping? I'm just a commoner, and not even a very good Andrastian."
"Right now, you are the best hope for our salvation," she told him, placing a hand on his arm. "I will go to Haven and assist Leliana once I have completed my work here. It is not much, but it will be a start."
"Thank you," Dellis smiled. She nodded and turned her attention back toward the injured. Dellis quickly made his way back to the party, satisfied to see that Cassandra wasn't glaring at him any more severely than usual.
"Please tell me you did not embarrass the Inquisition overmuch."
"I did fine," he assured her. "She'll come to Haven shortly."
"I'm impressed, Killer," Varric mused.
"That's the best you can do?" Dellis mused with a wry grin.
Varric rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a critic."
Cassandra snorted in disgust. "Come, we should return to Haven immediately and plan our next course of action."
"Yes ma'am," Dellis said with another mock salute, walking to his horse as Cassandra shook her head at him.
"As much fun as I'm having," Varric told him quietly, "you might want to tone it down before you she gets a mind to punch you."
Dellis smiled in return, a mischievous look in his eye. "She'd have to catch me first."
