Disclaimer- I don't own any characters except for Parafron Lavallen. I also do not own any dialogue that is exact to the games themselves, which are purely used as to follow the Inquisition storyline.


Chapter 2- I Like You

Parafron instinctively went into a roll, sharply intaking breath as she tumbled down the stone debris onto hard, unyielding ice. As was her preference, the elf leapt to her feet but the swift movement combined with the ice sent her near-sprawling on her back again. Parafron hit hard on her knees, twisting herself for her hands to catch her before she landed on her side. Dull pain laced throughout her body, but compared to the sharp spikes in her hand she easily coped- and with a shaky breath, she rose more slowly, spreading out her arms to maintain her balance. Begrudgingly, she noted Cassandra was already on her feet, and the elf started towards her until she was nearly sent to her knees again by the sudden flash of green light crashing into the river. The ice caved under the impact with a loud crack, and Parafron found herself backing up as green, crystal-like formations spiked from the ground and with it a hooded, sickly-looking figure. The elf found her gaze stuck to the being, with its withered arms and too-large hands, the unnatural way it moved like it was swimming in the air...

"Stay behind me!"

Cassandra's voice, solid and confident, snapped Parafron out of her staring. This must be the demons they were talking about, and the elf felt a twinge of unease. She had hunted beasts and humans, things of this realm and nothing more. She didn't want to deal with any


thing more. Riveted to the scene of Cassandra hacking at the demon, she almost missed what was happening at her feet- the ice seemed to be bubbling with a dark green, tumorous growth, and Parafron leapt backwards as another demon rose from the ground, giving an unearthly howl. It started towards her, and the elf skittered backwards, looking wildly for a weapon, anything. A crate, laying brown against the frozen river, caught her eye and she ran for it, her feet moving uneasily on the ice. Two short swords beckoned to her and the elf almost fell over scrambling for the weapons.

A sudden change swept her as her hands wrapped around the hilts, and as she whirled with her weapons in hand, her grin widened and something predatory entered her eyes. She started to jump forward, but ceased when she realized the thing had its back to her- why? The rogue leaned a little to the demon's side to see Cassandra going on the offensive with the demon, her face twisted in a snarl. Did the one that had originally threaten her feel a sense of kinship to its currently losing brethren? Or was the warrior woman simply gauged as a bigger threat? Parafron's eyes narrowed, and momentarily safe, she glanced at her left hand. She could leave Cassandra to the demons, and find out how to stop this on her own... but no. She didn't have enough knowledge in magic, or the Fade. Everyone else seemed to know more than she did. Parafron looked up, seeing the other demon strike Cassandra in the shoulder, the warrior whirling and striking both demons in the belly with a wide sweep of her sword. Either path had a possibility for death, but the path of leaving this person to die and figure this out on her own was the one most likely to lead her to it.

Parafron turned and looked at the fallen bridge, eyes passing over soldiers crushed under the fallen bricks and up towards the breach. The sickly green spiral pulsated, regurgitating meteors of green light every so often. She reached up and touched her face, recalling the pain of the tattoos that marked it and being reminded that she was simply a Dalish elf... No connections, contempt from other races, and no money. It was impossible to make it on her own. With that in mind, she looked back at Cassandra, the warrior slowly being overwhelmed by fighting both demons at once. The elf twirled her blades, and walked steadily to the fight scene, and then walking faster as she found adjustment in moving on ice. There was a jump in her step as she started running, flipping the point of the swords downwards in her preparations to leap.

A small excited breath left her, and the elf pounced, raising her arms and aiming for the demon flanking Cassandra's side. Bringing the swords crashing down, she felt the familiar ripping of flesh and a spray of warm blood hit her face, and soon any fears about the demons were banished. Their flesh ripped like people. Their blood was red like people... Parafron's weight brought the being to the floor, and she ripped her left sword free to stab it again in the head, over and over again. There was a quiver beneath her, and then stillness. They died like people too. The elf let out a surprised gasp as the demon disappeared from under her, the one sword she had in it's back falling to stab into the ice and her right side falling to the floor. Cassandra, freed from one assailant, went back to work on the other one, stabbing it right in the stomach. It too, with a shuddering moan, disappeared in a green wisp as if blown away by a strong breeze.

Parafron removed her left sword from the ice, steadily pulling herself to her feet and wiping blood off her weapons with the fabric part of her armor. Her smile shrinking slightly, she started to bend to the hole in the ice again- maybe she could wash it off with water. The elf saw a flash of silver, and it felt like someone had slammed something into her arm- and it sent her sprawling on her back. Parafron gazed at the sky, then at her weapon- still there. A small, previously absent silver line donned it's features, and the elf realized that damned warrior had tried to disarm her. Unfortunately for her, the rogue never let go of her weapons, if she could help it.

Cassandra's face, red with either anger or exertion or both, stared down at her. Parafron stared back, locking eyes with her defiantly and bringing her weapons to her chest as the other woman pointed her own sword at the elf.

"Drop them." The warrior spat.

"No. These are mi- I need these."

"Throw them to the side."

"You can't protect me. I need these."

"I can protect you, and I don't trust you. Let them go."

"If I let these go, I'll die. I need these."

Parafron's eyes flashed, like a wild animal being cornered and she was placing her feet in a position where she could slide further away and stand up. However, something changed in Cassandra's expression and she stepped back. The elf rose again, never breaking eye contact. These were hers now, and she wasn't letting anyone take them- the warrior must have known that. She gave a sigh, went to retrieve the sheaths, and then said,

"You are to walk in front of me at all times, as usual. You are to sheath your weapons at all times, except to fight. And when you fight, you fight next to me."

The elf nodded, sheathing her weapons and started to walk past her. Cassandra's hand shot in front of her, and Parafron looked to her cautiously until the warrior dropped four small vials of red liquid into her hand.

"Take these, and drink them to keep fighting."

Without a word, she pocketed them and walked passed her, stepping quickly. She had let her keep her weapon, and now was giving her health vials... It was practically a travel pack. The urge to run was stronger than ever now, to turn and kill her before she was too involved... but no. Parafron passed by a dead body without a glance, instead her attention momentarily being enraptured by how the glow of the breach reflected lightly on the ice, and if she looked behind her how it shone on Cassandra's bright armor. Her hand tingled, as if to remind her that if she didn't hurry another blast of pain would come soon, and the elf quickened her pace.

Soon, they came to a dirt path surrounded by light snow, the elf spotting another demon on the frozen river. Something wisp-like was up further on the hill, but she ignored it to go for the being on the river. Cassandra had sped up to keep at her side, and the demon moaned and glided towards the warrior, ignoring Parafron. The rogue ducked under their sweeping arms, unsheathing her weapons and spinning to slice them across the back. Cassandra's sword ripped through it, the bloody tip catching the light at winking at the elf- Parafron's own swords winked back when she stuck both of them just above Cassandra's weapon. As it fell to the floor, she spotted Cassandra flinch at the sight of the elf's face. Parafron's smile only grew wider.


The air was freezing cold, but Solas felt hot in the midst of combat. Thankfully, only wraiths and lesser shades were spewing out of the fade rift, but he knew that should it remain open for very much longer, more then just these petty demons and spirits would be facing them in battle. However, with every kill he felt guilty- he felt responsible for the death of every spirit and person caught in this battle. Solas did not let his emotions cloud his conscience- every blast of magic was sent with precision and the utmost focus. He had to admit, fighting with other people had its benefits, but Varric's crossbow had almost sent its contents through his head on more than one occasion and Solas' luck was already at rock bottom. In any case, when was the Seeker coming through? She had said that she would bring Lavellan to test his theory, yet he had been here for what seemed like hours...

Fighting did not suit the mage. He was fit, yes, and he had more experience than anyone could imagine, but years of disuse had made him slightly rusty. However, the Seeker was sure to put that concern to rest- he would very accustomed to the craze of battle soon enough, and he couldn't help but think that he deserved it. He felt something at his side, and so content with support was he that he had failed to acknowledge the shade that had crept up on him. The elf whirled, staff across him in a defensive movement as it crashed into him, shrieking and struggling to overpower him.

Now, anyone else might have found this time appropriate to ask for help. However, Solas was not of that personality- his pride, independence, and guilt found him unable to ask for assistance, instead choosing to battle with the creature and put himself in a position to whirl the end of his staff to attack it.

He heard the Seeker's undeniable voice, thick with accent, call,

"I'll help Solas, go!"

Ah, she's here. Now to see if we can fix this.

The shade he was struggling with gave a sudden shudder and sank to the floor, Solas breathing a sigh of relief as the Seeker met his gaze and nodded. He could have been mistaken, but to him she looked more relieved than he was, and he searched the battlefield for Parafron. But of course, he could not find her, so he focused his time on assisting the soldiers, his magic blasting a wraith straight in the chest. The area was thinning, and as Varric killed off the last shade, Solas searched for Lavellan once more. He spotted her, her side to him and staring up at the rift. He recognized her by the armor, and her eyes- for some reason, they seemed to be crinkled in a smile. The mage glanced at warrior and strode over to her, the elf turning abruptly to him with a grin on her face that did not meet her eyes. Solas started to reach for her arm, as he began to touch it he heard the Seeker yell with her footsteps running closer-

"Solas, no!"

When he grasped her arm, Lavellan's expression twisted, her smile vanishing and her facial features turning into a form of rabid hatred, her other arm already swinging upward with her sword intent to stab him. A trill of fear rushed through him and surprise broke through his features, and when the Seeker snatched the arm back down the elf's expression, with unnatural speed, turned back into a splitting grin. Numb, Solas brought the arm he grasped up to the fade, unable to tear himself away from Parafron's unnatural smile. There was a burst of light, and the rift disappeared, and when it did Solas near threw Lavellan's arm back at her. He had forgotten his own advise, and he supposed gazing down on someone as they slept made a bond that only reached one. But Solas was rarely caught off-guard, and his own mask was back in place and he was pleasantly smiling at her like nothing had happened. Something flashed in her eyes- excitement?

"What did you do?" She near-whispered, gray eyes not leaving his brown ones. How was it possible that such an expression differed so greatly from one when she was asleep?

"I did nothing." He replied steadily, warily. "The credit is yours." He gestured to where the rift had been.

"Is that so? My mark is good for something other than slowly killing me?" Her voice was still whisper-like, but louder this time, and if he so interpreted it as such, it was mocking. Solas shifted his weight, slightly uncomfortable. He prided himself in being able to read people, but not only was Lavellan unreadable, she seemed to be boring into him as well. He didn't like it. When her hand glowed slightly, he fell back on his knowledge, as a cat nonchalantly stretches after you have witnessed it fail in some way.

"Whatever magic opened the breach also opened placed that mark on your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake- and it seems I was correct."

She seemed amused, though it was just a feeling rather than what showed on her face. As the Seeker approached, Lavellan turned, and from the warrior's only mildly troubled expression, she had not seen Lavellan's flash of emotion.

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself." The Seeker added. Solas felt an urge to correct her, and jumped at it in order to return to normalcy.

"Possibly."

He turned his face back at Lavellan, pleasant smile meeting eerie grin.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

She blinked, cocking her head at him. She seemed to not fully understand being the heroine. Solas was not surprised in the least. It seemed tense, awkward, until Varric bursted in,

"Good to know! Here I was thinking we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

Lavallen turned, and snorted at Varric's comment. The dwarf gave a small smirk at the acknowledgement, and Solas felt a twinge of gratefulness. Varric, as usual, was an expert at defusing the situation. Solas could have given him a golden crown for it.

Varric sauntered up to Lavallen with a certain confidence, but carefully, as if approaching a wild dog. The Dalish elf looked down at him, expression unreadable and wary.

"Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong."

He winked at the Seeker, but the woman seemed to be so unsure of the situation that she only responded with a mild noise of disgust. Lavellan shifted her weight, silent for a few moments and looking between him and Solas. Finally, she nodded her head in acknowledgement and replied softly,

"Hello. Are you helping?"

The Seeker cut in, objecting to it while Varric, equally curtly, explained to as to why they need his help. Solas was not entirely convinced- Varric was an excellent shot, and knowledgable in many areas, but he wasn't sure that the Chantry needed his help. Still, he wished that Lavellan was the one that was expendable, instead of Varric. Despite the dwarf's personality shortcomings, Solas wasn't one to judge and he would have much preferred his company. This banter made Solas feel brave, and there was no need to show his uncomfortableness- after all, he was the one that saved her life and that fact might ease things.

"My name is-"

"Solas."

There was a twinge of annoyance.

"Yes. I am... pleased to see you still live."

She cocked her head, Varric jumping in again.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"

Something shifted in her attitude, her eyes boring into his. Solas refused to be the one to look away, and it as tense for a few moments until she broke her gaze, and sheathed her weaponry. She looked up again, her posture becoming more relaxed, and Solas dare said... forgiving.

"Then I owe you my utmost gratitude."

The same trill of pride and politeness prompted him to respond with a smile,

"Thank me if we manage to close the breach without killing you in the process."

There was another shift in her attitude, and whether it was good or bad eluded Solas. Few managed to stump him in their predictability and personality, and he was sad to say Lavellan was one of them. He stood uncomfortably, waiting for something to happen, until the Dalish elf leapt forward, kicking up snow in the process. Solas jolted, scrambling for his staff but he was too slow, far too slow and he jolted again as Lavellan did not stab him or choke him but... hug him.

Her grasp on him was firm so he could not pull away, but gentle enough so that he was not uncomfortable- even so, he froze up. He stared straight ahead, expression blank as the Seeker started, then stopped again. As Varric opened and closed his mouth again, unsure if he should say something. This had far crossed his own comfort zone, and he realized that this was her own form of revenge- making him as uncomfortable as possible. Her felt her stand a little taller and lean into his ear, whispering forebodingly,

"I...We'll get along just..."

He twitched as he heard her giggle slightly, the sound innocent as a bell, but with an undertone to it that sent another uncomfortable wave throughout him. Her voice became harsh with her next promise, almost a growl as she finished,

"We'll get along just fine."

She pulled away lightly, almost feather like. Lavellan backed away, hands behind her back and never removing her eyes from his, her smile so unnaturally wide Solas thought her face would tear. She spun suddenly on her heel, only turning her head when it was absolutely necessary. Lavellan turned and locked gazes with Cassandra and Varric, Solas being sure she was daring them with her eyes to say something.

"Now... now I'm no mage. And I imagine this is magic of unprecedented power, and mystery. What do we do next, Cassandra?"

The Seeker coughed uneasily, taking a moment to compose herself before replying,

"We go to the forward camp. Immediately."

Solas nodded, all too eager to step in tow after her, and he heard Varric mutter something about Bianca and step behind him. He didn't hear Lavallen follow for quite a while, and seeing as nobody was bothering to look behind them he took the liberty of doing it himself. He nearly flinched again- why? Why was she knocking him off-guard so many times? She was walking almost directly behind Varric, making no noise and staring at Solas as if she was expecting him to turn his head. Solas made an effort to look away as casually as possible, forcing himself to keep his pace steady and his posture unintimidated. Cassandra steadily increased the pace, and soon they were running- it gave Solas something to occupy his mind with, especially so when the path they were following paralleled the river once more and the demons ahead spotted their presence.

The mage reached behind him to grab his staff once more, narrowing his eyes as he focused his energy and thoughts into his magic. He was good at it, especially so, and he was more than content to stand back with Varric and blast magic from afar, supporting the Seeker. He was not aware of where Lavellan herself was- well, most of the time. Sometimes he would see her pounce out of the shadows, dragging a lesser shade with her by burying the blades into their backs and using them to pull it back with her. The few times she went out in the open to defend the Seeker seemed to make the warrior nervous, as he observed her occasionally checking her surroundings for the Dalish elf. Once the battle was over, he witnessed Lavellan step out of the burning house, smoothing down her armor. Solas decided not to comment.

They did not speak to her, only to each other. Varric and the Seeker bantered about what Varric would have done in certain situations, the warrior expressed concerns for her sister, they talked about the forward camp... but not to Lavellan. The Dalish elf trailed behind them, and when Solas dared sneak a glance at her she seemed to be getting increasingly bored and restless. But of course, when more demons appeared she leapt into action as seamlessly as the rest of them and once having unsettled them with each instance of combat, seemed to be content once more. Solas could only conclude that she thrived on making others fear her.

Making her a one-dimensional villain was a human trait. But for now, it was all Solas had for coping.

(insert barrier here, isn't working)

Thank you all for reading, especially those who faved and followed! Reviews, maybe? :O

as a reminder, I do not own any dialogue that may coincide with the game