Perhaps you have noticed: but this time I took more liberty into slowly seeping my own words in the story. This chapter is still heavily based on the current events in the game. I just want to say that not every piece of dialogue will be ripped from the game, but some things will. Simply because I don't want to change it because it's sufficient and awesomely written. I almost feel like violating if I change it too much XD

Now that rant is over. I hope you enjoy the second chapter. Third chapter will hopefully come out in a week, but who knows. It's quite the head-breaker and I have changed it many times and took time to sort my own thoughts of how I want to process the story. It isn't remotely finished, but getting there. I just take my time because I want to deliver the best.

Remember: English is not my first language. Grammar mistakes can occur, sorry about that. I try to minimize the damage as little as possible.

Enjoy!


Chapter 02: Who am I?

"Ah! Look who's back from the dead. Again."

Gwyneth had spent the entire day exploring the camp, getting to know people and their professions. Despite the cold, she found Haven beautiful. The way the sunrays made snow glitter like diamonds and how soft it looked on the mountains around them had her fascinated for a moment. She hadn't got the time nor interest in watching her surroundings when she had been at the Conclave, now she had the time in the world to take a look around what the village Haven really was.

Right now Gwyneth was staring down a bald man with a dark stubbly unkempt beard who was supposedly the alchemist of the camp. She wasn't that tall herself, about 5'8, but he was even shorter than her. The top of his head would barely graze her chin if they would stand next to each other. Though he hadn't his height as an advantage, his grumpy –and perhaps slightly rude- demeanour made up for it.

"Have we.. met before? I don't recall meeting you," She slowly replied, choosing her words carefully. For all she knew, he could be a mage as well and could set her on fire just like that. Or freeze her. She wasn't keen on testing it.

The alchemist shrugged and raised a bushy eyebrow. "I'd be surprised if you did. You weren't particularly coherent. Someone had to patch you up after you staggered out of Makers-knows-where, so you're welcome," he said with his gruff voice. A scowl on the man's features.

"I'm sorry, I- Thank you," Gwyneth stammered and nodded in gratitude, slightly taken back by his direct and cranky nature. Immediately the man's eyes softened, so did the scowl.

"Yeah, well. You can pay me back by fixing the world," he huffed and turned to his desk where a large and heavy looking tome was displayed.

Gwyneth took that as her cue to leave. The freezing wind made her cheeks stung a bit, but it was refreshing than the strangely smelling house of alchemist Adan. She allowed her feet to carry her away, the snow crunching beneath her boots. It had been a day since she had woken, and now she could safely say that most people stopped gawking at her like she was the Andraste herself. This reverence unsettled her, it drew unwanted attention and she had learned from her life in the Circle that drawing attention was a bad thing. It made her twitchy.

"There you are!"

Gwyn turned around to see Cassandra walking up to her. Whilst she was huddled in her coat, trying to preserve every speck of heat, Cassandra walked tall and proud. Seemingly unfazed by the frisk air that tried to seep in your clothes and bones.

"I was looking for you," she began and gestured for Gwyneth to follow. "I want you to meet the advisors, the true backbone of the Inquisition."

"Aside from you? I thought you were the leader.." Gwyn murmured as they walked up the steps of the Chantry and inside its wind and cold-shielding walls. The warmth inside made her relax a bit.

"No, I am a soldier, but one has to start somewhere," Cassandra said and looked at Gwyneth who flexed her left hand. "Does it hurt you?" They stopped walking.

Gwyn glanced from her left hand to the Seeker. It ached constantly, and the Mark looked even more horrendous in the candle light. "Less than before, but ever since I got this I don't feel like.. me. And it didn't do what it was supposed to; closing The Breach."

"You at least made it stop growing and bought us time to find a solution. Perhaps the second attempt might succeed, provided the Mark has more power. Come, they are waiting for us."

Cassandra led her back to the same backroom as before. On the large oaken table a series of maps were displayed that hadn't caught Gwyn's eyes before. Behind the table were three people waiting for them. Cassandra joined Gwyn's side after closing the door and gestured to the one in the middle.

"May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."

The man in question offered a small smile and nodded in greeting. "Such as they are. We would have lost many soldiers in the valley if not for you Lady Trevelyan. Thank you for your assistance." The man spoke, his voice deep and warm but polite and professional. He was tall, about 6'2, and broad. Whether or not that was because of his armour and the mane over his shoulders Gwyneth couldn't tell.

His hair was neatly combed, golden in colour like his eyes, but he had stubbles adorning his lower face that oddly suited him. A fine white line abruptly put an end to his upper lip on the right. Overall, he was a handsome man but straight and military in posture. His left hand rested on the pommel of his sheathed sword.. a Templar habit. Gwyn felt herself tense a bit.

This tensing up seemed to fail Cassandra's gaze as she introduced her to Lady Josephine Montilyet, the ambassador and Chief Diplomat of the Inquisition. Josephine curtsied while expertly holding a scribe with a candle on the top, and a tiny delicate brush used for writing. "I have heard much about you. A pleasure to meet you at last."

Her choice of words and the way she pronounced them betrayed her heritage and upbringing. As if no one could guess it from the choice of her clothes; a dark blue satin dress with fabric shimmering like gold coating her arms, the edges of her dress and tights. Her shoes were probably matching with the blue. Around her neck was a heavy and expensive looking golden necklace, around her wrists equally expensive looking bracelets. Her raven hair was curly and tied in a neatly braided bun in the back of her neck. A few whispers of that dark hair framed her bronze face. It was.. a lot to frame a short and slim woman, but somehow seemed to suit her.

Leliana stepped forward and scraped her throat. She wore the same hooded purple tunic like yesterday. Only know did Gwyneth notice the mail across the length of it. It looked strong and seemed flexible to move in, but did not seem to lose its protection the way the mail was layered and fastened to the fabric. Almost like dragon scales.

"We have already met, if you have forgotten; my name is Leliana. I fulfil the role of-"

"She is our spymaster," Cassandra hastily explained, cutting her off. Leliana gave the Seeker a small and rueful smile, but nodded. Gwyneth had that gnawing feeling her guts that Leliana wasn't only 'mastering her spies'.

"Tactfully put Cassandra."

"Impressive titles you all bear," Gwyn spoke her voice slow and considerate as her eyes glanced at each and every one of the advisors. She felt like a small fish in a giant sea, trying to swim for her life or otherwise she will be swallowed whole by the big ones. "I am pleased to meet you all." She curtsied.

"I mentioned that you Mark needs more power to close The Breach for good," Cassandra explained.

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana exclaimed and took a step forward. Cullen scowled, his left hand tightening on the pommel.

"I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well." Cassandra sighed and placed her hands on the table, leaning forward to emphasize.

"We need that power Commander. Enough magic poured into that Mark-"

"Would destroy us all," Cullen snapped and swiped a hand dismissively into the air. "Templars could supress The Breach, weaken it so-"

"Pure speculation."

Cullen glared at Leliana who held her chin up high and defiant. "I was a Templar. I know what they are capable of."

"Won't I get to say a matter in this? I am going to be the one closing The Breach after all and I am not looking forward in working with either one of them," Gwyn growled and flinched when a sharp pain travelled up her left hand.

"You don't trust your fellow mages?"

After giving Leliana a look, Gwyneth allowed her gaze to drop to the map of Ferelden. Staring at a pawn in the shape of an Eagle. "I don't trust mages nor Templars, not after the carnage at Ostwick Circle. Excuse me if I don't pick a side."

For a moment it remained silent. Then Josephine scraped her throat. "Right as of this moment, neither group will speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and you," she pointed with her brush as Gwyn, "specifically."

"They are certainly not waiting for the grass to grow it seems," she mused and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Shouldn't they argue about the next Divine or something?" Cullen growled.

"Some are calling you the Herald of Andraste, that frightens the Chantry," Lady Josephine continued, ignoring Cullen. "The remaining clerics have declared is blasphemy and us heretics for harbouring you."

"I figured as much.."

Cassandra frowned. "Chancellor Roderick's doing. No doubt."

"Ugh, I hate that man," Leliana grunted and rubbed her forehead.

"It certainly limits our options. Approaching the mages or Templars is currently out of the question," Josephine murmured and scribbled something down on the parchment.

"I have heard that term; The Herald of Andraste. But how am I it? I have done nothing really note-worthy except stopping The Breach from growing. People hated me," Gwyn muttered. Her right hand reached up and touched the cut on her cheek.

"They have heard that you walked out of the Fade with a woman behind you, and combine that with your actions in the valley-" Cassandra began and allowed her words to explain themselves.

"The point is; everyone talking about it. About you," Leliana whispered.

"That is quite the title, isn't it?" Cullen asked, a small smirk tucking at the corners of his lips as if she was slightly amused by the reverence. "How do you feel about that?" His eyebrows lowered and his gaze was now fully focused on her.

Gwyneth shifted her weight from one foot to another, meeting his gaze despite her discomfort. Everything about this man screamed 'Templar!' at her. How long had he been with the Order before abandoning it and joining the Inquisition? Had he actually abandoned it or was he kicked out? So many questions crossed her mind in a single fleeting moment that she had to remind herself to answer the question. When she blinked, she could see that the smirk on his lips had faltered a bit and his gaze had turned calculating.

"I don't like it. I am not the Herald, nor will I ever be. It's unnerving."

"Well it seems that Chantry has already decided that for you," Cullen replied in some sort of a mocking tone, and laughed. Gwyn had the feeling he wasn't on good terms with the Chantry.

"People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some; you are that sign," Leliana explained.

"And to others, you are symbol to everything that has gone wrong," Josephine sighed. Gwyn felt a spike of anger in her heart.

"They aren't concerned for The Breach? The real threat?"

"That is not true. They do know that The Breach is the threat. They just don't believe that we can stop it."

"The Chantry is telling everyone we will make it worse."

Gwyneth realized that Cullen and Josephine focused on the word 'we' and took a long breath through her nose. "And it seems that it is up to us to make them realize that. No pressure.. no pressure at all."

"Well," Leliana drawled. "There is something you can do about it. A Chantry cleric named Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is situated in the Hinterlands and know those involved far better than I. Her assistance could prove to be invaluable."

"A Chantry cleric wants to speak to me? It almost sounds like a trap to me," Gwyn murmured and looked at the Ferelden map. The Hinterlands wasn't that far from here. A small week travel.

"Of that we are not sure. But I am coming with you, you are not going to be alone out there," Cassandra spoke and placed a gauntleted hand on Gwyn's shoulders in attempt to be a reassurance. It worked somewhat, Gwyn couldn't help but to smile a bit.

"I don't know if it's a trap, but scouts have already been sent ahead to assess the risk and make first contact with her. She attending to the wounded in an area named the Crossroads not far from Redcliff's farms."

"If you venture there, look for other opportunities to bolster our forces, resources and expand the Inquisition's influence," Cullen said. Gwyn raised an eyebrow.

"Such as?"

"Food, minerals for forging, willing soldiers, even horses or bronto's. We have a particular great shortage of cavalier; that can be a very decisive factor during a battle," he explained. His free right hand gestured as he summoned up the possible supplies they could encounter at the Hinterlands.

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley. And you are better suited than anyone to recruit them," Josephine added and hastily scribbled down some notes. Her bracelets softly jingled at her movements.

"In the meantime, we also have to look at other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald," Cassandra said decisively. The advisors agreed in unison.

"Are there also mages and Templars fighting there?" Gwyneth asked and looked to Leliana, who shrugged. "I am not sure yet, but keep in mind that their battles are fought across all of Thedas."

"I see.." Gwyneth felt her heart sink into her stomach. She would have to fight mages and Templars. She hated to pick a side and rather not fight at all than one of them or both. She clenched her fists. Why? Why start this whole mess? Is it truly worth it? She took a deep breath to strengthen her composure and looked at the advisors.

"Well, I am glad to have met all of you and for your advice. I guess that I should start preparing my journey. Good day."

Gwyneth curtsied at them one final time, like how mother taught her too when she was at a young age. Back straight, knees bending lightly and her head dipping just a bit to greet, but keep her dignity in the process. Do not look eager, be composed. Then she turned on her heels and left the room with her jaw clenched tight.

"Herald, are you alright?"

Gwyneth mindless actions of packing her bag were interrupted by soft accented voice. She stood and straightened her back, groaning at the ache of being bent over for a long period of time. "Lady Cassandra, I must ask you not to call me that. Like I said earlier; I am not the Herald and prefer to be called by my name."

Cassandra Penthagast closed the door of the hut where Gwyneth resided in. It was also the hut she had woken. It seemed that the righteous owner was 'honoured' to have her living her and allowed her to stay until she deemed it unnecessary. His daughter had provided her that nightgown.

"People see you as the Herald. Denying them that hope will only bring more resistance toward our efforts," the warrior explained. "But I will indulge in your request.. Lady Trevelyan," she smiled. Gwyn had a hard time smiling back and sighed, tying up her bag.

"Are you alright?" Cassandra repeated her question and ventured into the room. Her dark brown eyes taking everything in. Gwyneth tried to leave the home unspoiled until she found a place to stay of her own. This was, after all, property of someone else and she already felt an intruder. Gwyn would hate to break something that wasn't hers.

"I'm fine, ah!"

Gwyneth gasped when her left hand suddenly started to ache and clenched it to a tight fist. It helped somewhat with the pain. Josephine merely stood there and watched.

"You are not looking forward to this."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. A fact. Gwyn sighed and turned to the Nevarran who was just radiating an air of confidence and strength, something she envied.

"No. I'm not."

Gwyn walked past her and took the staff that she had used when fighting against the demons four days back. When she stopped The Breach from growing. She had tried to track down the mage where it belonged to, but only discovered that he had perished in the fight and the staff was left without an owner.

Holding the staff, Gwyneth sat down on her bed and investigated the crystal nestled in the very top of the staff. It was a special type of crystal, clear and shimmering like ice, which every staff contained but Gwyneth unfortunately forgot the name off. It conducted a mage's magic like no other gem without restrictions if it functioned properly. That was why Gwyn was now checking the crystal, to see if it was broken or needed replacement. She wanted to be prepared for anything.

Cassandra kept standing there in the middle of the room, watching her but said nothing. Eventually Gwyn sighed.

"I am going to kill mages and Templars. And for what?" Anger seeped into her voice, her blue eyes kept focused on the crystal that she had taken out of the staff and held in her right hand. It was cool to the touch. "Because they don't think about their actions, because they just do stuff in the name of the greater good and what that means for themselves, but forgetting the ones they hurt in the process." The crystal started to glow a faint red.

Cassandra took a few steps towards her, her stance neutral. "And we are there to make them stop fighting and make them see reason."

"What if they don't want to see reason?"

Cassandra frowned and her eyes contained a feisty glimmer. "They will. They must. And we will make that happen."

The Hinterlands was a beautiful place to be, more than Gwyneth would have thought. The rocks were red, hinting at castle Redcliff's name, but the trees were all kinds of colours of red and green. The grass was a lush deep green, the flowers were overflowing and the sun shone kindly upon their faces.

Unfortunately as they ventured more and more towards the Crossroads, the less beautiful the scenery became. Scorched patches of grass and blackened trees became a regular occurrence. Soon burned down house, reduced to ash and even a body here and there.

"Whoa.." Gwyn softly muttered and pulled on the reins of her horse in order to stop. His nostrils flared when he smelled the scent of burnt flesh, but did not bold and compliantly stopped in his stride.

After performing some duties for horse master Dennet and his family, he had agreed to give them the horses they needed for the Inquisition and agreed to travel towards Haven after the farmers arrived to reclaim their land once more, now free of beasts and demons. Gwyneth sat upon a gorgeous chestnut gelding, who was kind to her and her poor attempts of riding.

One could only have so much experience if they lived in a tower their whole life. Fortunately for Gwyn, Cassandra and Blackwall, their newly acquired Warden member, provided some pointers to her. Cassandra also had an extra safety rope connected to her own white mare in case things got heated.

"I am guessing the mages and Templars went through this area," Blackwall's rough voice said from behind her. Gwyn turned to look at the Warden who made his black steed stop next to hers. Varric clung on to the back of the saddle, for he too was unused to riding but refused to have his own horse. The dwarf grunted and shifted a bit on the horse's back, who seemed unfazed.

"That must mean we are getting close to the Crossroads," Gwyneth murmured and absently stroked her gelding's black manes.

"I suggest we press on. The sooner we get there the better," Cassandra said and nudged her mare's sides, who snorted and walked forward. Gwyn's gelding followed and so did Blackwall's steed. The Seeker and the Warden seemed to be efficient at riding, unfazed when the horses had a moment of tension at a blazing fire and encouraged them to move on. The horses complied and slowly began to relax, a signal of thrust.

"Watch out!"

Varric's shout of warning was too late as a fireball was hurled at them and connected to the ground ride before their horses' feet. Gwyneth's gelding whinnied and reared, making the safety rope that Cassandra held snap. Gwyn felt her stomach sink and leaned forward, grasping the gelding's neck in order not to fall off.

When the gelding's front hooves touched the ground he bolted. His head held up high and his nostrils flaring. If it was controlled it was probably the best feeling in the world, the way the wind blew through her hair and the horse's manes, the way his powerful body moved below her. Propelling them forward, faster with each stride. But this wasn't controlled, this was panic and fear gripped Gwyn's heart instead of serenity.

They ran into the forest. Branches whipped against her face as Gwyn held on to his manes for her dear life, her feet slipping out of the stirrups. Suddenly the horse jumped straight into a clear and reared, throwing Gwyneth off. Shouts, screams and spell incantations reached her ears. With adrenaline surging in her blood she jumped up, watching how her horse ran across the battlefield. Trampling mage and Templar in its wake and disappeared.

She had no time to think, no time to validate what just happened or acknowledge the soreness in her back from her fall. Immediately she was in the heat of the battle between mages and Templars like when she ran from the Circle and right now Gwyn did what she did back then; survive.

Her magic flew across the battlefield and what after a time what felt like ages her companions stormed out of the forest, swords raised and their horses controlled who were not used to the sounds of battle. Varric let himself slip from Blackwall's steed and chose the higher ground, raining arrows down upon their foes. Within minutes the battle was over and Gwyn watched her final fireball hit a mage in the head, frying his brain.

Gwyn's breathing was laboured and she leaned heavily on her staff. Around them was a carnage of bloody, fried and frozen bodies with here and there one of Varric's arrows poking out. Cassandra rode towards her, the flank of her white mare turned red.

"Herald! Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Gwyneth huffed and glared up to the Seeker, her blue eyes blazing. "I told you I hate horses!"

"Lady Cassandra! Herald!"

A man ran towards them, his armour clearly that of the Inquisition. His face was flushed and sweaty, his breathing was laboured. Nonetheless he stopped, slammed his right fist across his heart and bowed.

"You've been a true sending. The horse was an excellent distraction that gave us the upper hand. Thanks to you we could save most of the refugees," he spoke reverently and glanced at Gwyneth. His green eyes shimmering. Gwyn's mouth opened and closed, not sure what to say.

"Well done, recruit. Make the area secure with the rest of you squadron, we don't want any stragglers who can alert the rest," Cassandra order and dismounted. The recruit saluted and ran off. Cassandra gave the reins of her mare to a stable boy who had ran towards them to take their horses. Together with the mare of Cassandra and Blackwall's steed he walked off past Crossroads defences.

The Crossroads was a make-shift camp around a farmhouse on a hill where Gwyn suspected was their church and nursery. She spotted several sister walking around, their white and soft red garments weren't hard to miss.

As the group walked through camp, refugees and soldiers whispered when they walked passed. Most recruits even saluted at them. In the distance between all the tents and in a small secluded part, Gwyn spotted their horses.. along with her chestnut gelding who happily munched on a piece of hay. Bastard.

"Shh, there are mages here who can help you. Lie still."

At the farm house, there were several bed in the sunlight, each of them occupied with wounded soldiers. A dark-skinned elderly woman was bent over a soldier and gently pressed him down on the matrass, a mage stood behind her a bit fidgety and unsure. The soldier struggled a little bit, but that was futile because of the gaping wound in his side.

"Don't let them touch me Mother, their magic is-" he frightfully gasped. The Reverend Mother hushed the poor man and placed a comforting hand on his sweaty forehead.

"Their magic is turned to noble purposes. It is no more dangerous than your blade," she whispered. The soldier wanted to resist once more but she shook her head and placed her hand on one of his. "Hush dear boy. Allow their magic to ease your suffering."

Then, the Mother stood up and made way for the mage who kneeled next to the soldier and let his hands hover above the gaping wound. A soft blue light emanated from them, and the soldier sighed and closed his eyes as he felt the pain disappear and his wounds heal.

"Mother Giselle?" Gwyneth asked hesitantly and walked towards the dark-skinned Mother, who turned and met her gaze with kind and warm eyes.

"I am her," she answered and walked towards her. Cassandra nodded in respect as the Mother approached them. "And you must be the one who they call The Herald of Andraste." Gwyn had to control her face from scrunching up as those words left the Mother's lips.

'I am their hope, their beacon,' she reminded herself.

"You have asked the Inquisition to see me?"

Mother Giselle smiled and walked towards a more secluded area, away from too many eyes and ears. Gwyneth and her party could only follow.

"I know of the Chantry's denouncement," the Mother said as they walked together. "And I know those behind it." They stopped and Giselle's expression turned more serious. "I won't lie to you. Some of them are hoping to increase their chances to be the new Divine, and some are simply terrified. A lot of good people are senselessly taking from us."

Gwyneth knew that she spoke about the Conclave and sighed, "What happened at the Conclave was horrible." Mother Giselle nodded.

"Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason. Go to them; convince the remaining clerics that you are no reason to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you, give them something else to believe."

"You think I must appeal to them?"

The look on her face must have been one of shock, for the one on Mother Giselle's turned softer and she smiled gently. "If I thought you would be incapable I wouldn't have asked you to. Let me put it this way; you needn't to convince them. You just need some of them to.. doubt."

Giselle sighed and looked towards the red mountains looming over them. The sun kindly touching her aged face. "I will go to Haven and give Leliana the names of those that can be persuaded to our cause. It won't be much, but I will help in every way I can and give you a voice that calls out to others and rally them beneath your banner. You will be the one people are looking at in this dire time, whether you save or destroy us.. that is up to you-"

With those words the Mother nodded and walked away. Leaving Gwyneth with a mind filled with confusion, doubt and even more weight on her shoulders. She was about to bring them glory or make them fall in the attempt. Her blue eyes shifted from the Mother's retreating back to her left and marked hand. The Mark pulsed in the rhythm of her heart. No pressure right?


Like it?
Please review!