AN: You know at 3 chapters this is as far ahead as the ninth chapter of Jackal in the Shadows. All because Din'ara doesn't like to talk. That's kinda freaking hilarious.

()()()()

The choice to wait a week and then go to Val Royeaux was a decision of course, made without the Herald. Din'ara's response to being 'informed' by the admittedly sweet Josephine that she had to attend and the number of potential faux pas that she could commit was to simply vanish.

Not entirely of course, and Chancellor Roderick was rather smug that instead of the young brats running this farce of an Inquisition he was the only one with any real idea of where their wayward Herald may be. The expression on the lauded spymistress's face when he waited to calmly interject was..immensely satisfying.

"Have you checked with the servants?"

Utter silence met him, even the dwarf, for of course he and that elfin apostate had been dragged into the meeting to try and locate the mostly mute woman. There had been more than a few 'how does someone who literally has a glowing green hand not get seen?' tossed around in the past few hours.

"Why would we check there?" Cullen finally asked, the least aggravating of his newest forced allies, Roderick had to admit. The boy was devoted to the Chant and he found common ground there even if he was floundering on the whole sticky situation regarding mages.

"You all forget that Din'ara started here as a servant. They were the ones who knew she did not like to speak, she did not enjoy company." He had always paid attention to the servants, it is why he recognized a truly gifted hand when he'd seen Din'ara's mending to his insanely expensive robe. It had been a gift and an unfortunate incident with a carriage door had left Roderick in a very unseemly situation not able to wear it when last he'd visited the benefactor. Roderick gestured with his hand, unconsciously seeming pompous but he had spoken the chant for so many decades now grandiose gestures were heavily worked into his daily actions.

"To them, at least her fellow elves, she is still the one they knew with an additional few changes. Why would she not seek solace amongst them?"

Leliana of course, dispatched spies to check. Roderick knew what they would find though. Really, these younglings.

()()()()()

Din'ara was indeed in the servants barracks which was just a converted cellar in Haven below the store rooms. Dirt floors and bare walls with only a few small lanterns to be spared. The bed rolls and few cots tucked away for now. Huddled in thick layers of many worn cloaks draped over them all like blankets and perched on barrels and crates it was a casual group. Much more simple fare then the rest of Haven ate, though it was better than it had been, one of the few things she had insisted on loudly and damn the pain, when Josephine had asked if she wanted anything. Platters of the dark hearty bread, the meat stuffs that those who had never gone hungry would turn their noses up at. The edges and leftovers of the cheeses, all of that remained the same. The watered down wine and ale was passed freely as no one really trusted to drink standing water and not have someone think poisoning the lot of them wasn't a bit of fun.

Aside from her now visibly white and black hair and the glowing hand though, and being cleaner than the rest, Din'ara was still the one they'd known. She still relaxed and smiled to them, gave silent laughs. Her hands were the first to help portion out the meals and offer part of her cloak up to a newcomer who was chilled so they may huddle against her side and borrow the heat of her form. After her belly was full and she desired no more to drink she'd pulled out thread and needles and tired fingers from working for their human masters were all too happy to pass over their own mending so they could stay warm. To the lull of soft songs, little pleasant sparks of hope that flickered around her, Din'ara lost herself in the rare sense of belonging.

If her mending took on curls and swirled designs instead of simple stitches, it only earned her hugs and smiles of thanks from those who often never had anything save a wedding attire to treasure until they passed it on to a relative.

Likewise, information that she was a healer had been a very poorly kept secret once the war council knew it and Din'ara made time every night she was in Haven to sneak over and check on her fellow elves who made a living as servants. To ensure cuts and bruises were tended, sore muscles pulled too far were eased.

To those who managed to catch sight, it was...peculiar. The lauded Herald serving the servants.

And of course, one elf who slipped in with the long practice of one going where they should not, frowned. For here was someone with the chance to elevate her kind among the humans and instead she was huddled here in the dirt and the grime only easing their daily struggle not improving it.

Solas did not approve of her actions. However, he knew he had pushed her as far as he currently dared and so he did not confront the woman. Yet.

()()()()()()

"You will not be entering an easy situation. The loss of the Divine created a huge struggle between the factions of the chantry mother's." Roderick was instructing Din'ara with the actually useful information. She was perched in a comfortable chair in his office, the infamous robe in her hands as she carefully matched the complex embroidery. Really, Cassandra was wonderful, Leliana was efficient but it had been thus far Roderick who recognized that Din'ara would be used and had been thus far and gave her information for the more important task of surviving and keeping her head down. She was not the sort who would be in fame and glory and perhaps because of that as much as her skills with a needle and thread, he had taken her well being in hand.

It was the position one devout to the Chant should have, after all and the fact she had never claimed anything other than actions by Divine Justina that caused the events to now have her as Herald were circumstances that Roderick could accept. And Roderick knew full well of how she tended to the servants, and unlike many he saw there the real sign of perhaps what Divine Justina would have been the most proud of. She had chosen better than she'd known in the chaos when she sent forward an unknown back to them.

"There's likely to be a public display calling you out. Be certain you have healed your throat before you enter Val Royeaux's gates." Roderick continued, penning letters for her to take with her. Ones for his contacts, to explain things and while it would likely be much to his advantage she had no reason not to do so. It wasn't as if she personally felt she owed anyone anything. "Also, should you end up dragged into any formal event or encounter be certain you get a mask. There are shops, just get a plain colored one without any decoration. You do not wish to cause accidental insult claiming something you do not have a right to. There are lots of groups who will try to curry favor, promise nothing. Direct them all to Leliana, much as she is a nuisance she was the left hand for a reason. Your race and misfortune are already against you but in this your tendencies towards silence will serve you well. Orleisans play games with words and expressions that they will turn entirely around."

There was no way the robe would be finished anytime soon. Not with the multitude of necessary thread colors and intricate stitching but she was working on it diligently.

A soft nod of her head and Roderick continued. "They are ruthless about the alienage so do be cautious not to be out at night. Nothing we can do for that apostate, Pentaghast is no better considering she's about as useful in delicate situations as your mace."

Din'ara looked up, raising a brow. Roderick smirked. "Do try not to throw any food. But also, they have small pastries there. I think you'll like them."

Din'ara gave him a wry grin, catching the subtle plea to bring some back.

She left a few hours later with a bundle of letters to take with her in the coming week and feeling as if she wasn't entirely walking blind into the next forced situation.

()()()()()()

It was inevitable really, that she slept too deeply one day. Along with the way her mana worked when awake it had also warped her interactions with the Fade at times. Fortunately it was before they left Haven but the undulating hues of green that marked the Fade comforted Din'ara. She was dimly aware that she was too deep into it again, that hadn't occurred since before she had left clan Lavellan. Here her throat had never been damaged and yet she found silence was exceptionally powerful in the fade.

Yawning, and stretching briefly she saw a bright thread not far. Reaching up and grasping it in hand she then easily followed the glowing trail. The Fade was full of spirits, many of them friendly. However, her strange mana again took form here and it seemed most demons and spirits could not sense her. Or the scant few sensed her so strongly they were always startled she was not fade born herself. Apparently she had a rather 'indistinct' appearance to them much as they seemed to her.

"Little one."

Din'ara smiled and inclined her head. The massive form before her was that of some great shaggy beast long extinct from Thedas before anyone had thought to write down words of it. Strands of coiled light branched off, like errant thoughts, from the ancient spirit. "Greetings. You shine brightly." She said and perhaps it was because she thought her voice should be lower, a bit husky and scratchy from her damaged cords but always did it sound that way here. Thankfully, no pain occurred.

"My thanks. You are mortal." It was a curious tone, and the immense form shifted again, a good dozen eyes locked onto her but the light truly was so bright it was an impossibility to define the figure's build. Save she had the impression of long coarse fur. Compact in frame. "Rare does a mortal both hide and glitter as star dust."

"My magic only heals." She explained and where all the mages she had met would cry out and demand an explanation it seemed spirits always took it differently.

"Ah. You are a new breed then. Curious. Not a spirit healer..no..there is no spirit nestled along your soul.."

"What was and never would be, hidden and then struck down. I'm the result." She explained, cutting her riddle short.

"Your name?"

"Din'ara."

"Oh?" There was a flicker along the edges of the form's light, laughter. "Elvhen descended. I see." It understood from her name, it quite possibly could make out her form no better than Din'ara could it's own.

"I've wandered a bit too far and deeply again I think."

"Happen often?"

Din'ara nodded, amused herself at the issue. "There was speculation I should have been Sominari if my powers did not cling so solely to healing."

"And why is it then not possible? There are those who walk the fade, wander it. Then there are those who meld with it and separate once more. Those are Sominari. No, you are something new. Curious. I shall enjoy seeing you again. For now I shall give you the push back to your flesh and blood shell you require."

"Thank you."

She woke up the next breath. Not only that but to a very worried face of a servant girl. Tears and babbling later someone finally explained that she'd been unconscious two days. Asleep and they couldn't wake her. Solas had been about ready to try and seek her out in the Fade and from how he was lurking by her door she just knew he was going to be irritating until she answered his questions. Not that she really blamed any of them, knowing someone may not wake up in the morning did tend to alarm people.

It took far too long to convince Solas she had always gone too far into the Fade, no she had no idea of the time that she had lost it felt like moments, no it didn't happen all the time. Finally, perhaps catching on to her glaring as he ranted yet again, she simply consented at night he could enter her dreams and ensure she woke every morning.

He seemed far too pleased at the idea. As if it's something he had planned to do anyways but now had permission. Really, the bald male was far too smug over it and giving in to anything he wanted rubbed her the wrong way. She made a point of packing extra fruit for the trip.

When Cassandra found the extra items in her own bags, the Seeker all but howled in laughter. She did not however, argue helping to carry it.

()()()()()()()

They made excellent time. With Cassandra and Din'ara being melee fighters and a rogue and a mage any who thought to waylay them soon were killed or unconscious. Din'ara was making up for the fact she knew she'd have to talk in the city with staying very much closed mouthed and using every effort possible to sleep so lightly Solas hadn't been able to visit her.

In contrast, he was getting rather cranky over it. It probably shouldn't have pleased her that much, but Din'ara had no problems admitting she could be a shallow and petty woman.

()()()()()()

Walking into Val Royeaux was easy enough. Din'ara also felt almost ashamed of how unperturbed she was at the woman hollering about her being a heretic and clearly expecting her to justify her actions.

Apparently the correct answer to all of the insults was exactly what had flown out of her mouth, and since none of her party had seen her heal her throat earlier the three actually jumped in surprise when she started talking.

"I never claimed anything other than the Divine sent me back." Really, she hadn't. But the easy dismissal had thrown the ranting woman, enough she'd stepped over to talk to her and then the group of templars had shown up and riled up the situation. Din'ara had just let Cassandra and Varric handle most of it.

Then there was the wild chase for the Red Jenny's, now that she thought was fun. The more silly the tasks the less her party was amused, the more Din'ara felt like laughing. She got it. She was being shown the parts of Val Royeaux that would not only help her get a better feel for the place but assist the regular folk. It was 'normalizing' her to this person.

It was entirely inevitable that Solas had accepted Fiona's invitation rather than consult her, but Din'ara had been too interested in puzzling out the next part of her map anyways.

The accumulation in meeting Sera made Din'ara blink at her.

"Hey shady lady bits." Sera said as they finished off the last of the pantsless fools they'd been fighting off. Din'ara turned and raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

"No breeches." Din'ara agreed.

"Hehehe...you seems like not too elfy." Sera agreed and then something horrible happened for Thedas.

Din'ara smirked. "Should have stolen their shoes."

"Oh Socks n smalls! That's perfect!" Sera grinned and walked over, gripping Din'ara's shoulder. "I'm gonna join up. Cuz you do shit for the people people and people need people!"

"Map?"

"Sure. Save time from wandering in circles and goin all fuchaky what this doin here." The two girls seemed to understand each other just fine as Sera pulled out another horribly drawn map of the area and Din'ara was tracing a route back to Haven for her.

"cold as tits?"

Din'ara nodded and Sera groaned. "Well that'd be good for lookin long as don't go pokin me eyes out on a nice rack but crimp the bits when comin to layers."

"Wait..so we have one who makes no sense, and the one who doesn't like to talk. And they can communicate." Varric visibly shivered. "I need ale. A lot of ale."