Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of the characters.

Chapter 3

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was a wood ceiling above my head, and the second thing I noticed was that I was no longer wearing armor. I blinked a few times to clear the fog in my head, and I began to sit up.

I was lying on a bed in a small, modest cabin. There were a few pelts hanging from the walls, even a painting. The cabinets and shelves that were situated around the main room were filled with herbs and potion vials. Healer's hut.

The door opened, prompting me to jump to my feet in alarm. In the back of my mind, I noticed that someone had put shoes on me while I slept. A small, willowy elf girl entered the cabin with a wooden box in her hands. She caught sight of me and squeaked loudly, dropping the box as she clapped her hands to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" she said, fear in her eyes.

I raised an eyebrow at her strange behavior. "I know I'm Dalish, but you don't have to be afraid. I'm not going to eat you."

"I-yes, my lady."

"Where am I? How long have I been asleep?" I pressed, glancing around the room.

Then the girl did something entirely unexpected. She dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, trembling slightly. I frowned at the gesture and stepped back. What in the void was this about?

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant," she said, gaze fixed on the floor. "You are back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

"Three days? So the danger has passed?" I asked, straightening up immediately.

The girl began to get up from the floor, her gaze focused anywhere but my face. I wasn't sure what I'd done to make her so… reverent of me, but it was beginning to get on my nerves. The Dalish clans I'd travelled with had known who and what I was from the beginning, and they'd tried to treat me as though I were above them. After a few weeks, they always figured out that I hated the worship. My immortality was not something to celebrate, I'd tell them. Usually it would include a bit more cursing and caustic language, but the message always got across, and they always stopped and treated me like normal.

Well, as normal as they were capable.

"The Breach is still in the sky. That's all I know," the girl replied nervously, backing away towards the door. "I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've awakened. She said 'at once.'"

"I bet," I muttered to myself, then sighed. "Where is she now?"

"In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once,' she said." And with that, the girl gave a slight curtsy and fled from the room.

I watched her go, frowning to myself. Hopefully that girl was the only one who was likely to lose her head when I walked outside. Otherwise, my stay, no matter how long or short, was going to be very annoying.

Shrugging, I turned to my feet, which were sporting a pair of soft leather boots. I rolled my eyes and began to pull them off, including the socks. Whoever had dressed me probably thought they were doing the poor, bare-footed elf a favor. The boots and socks were warm, and it was cold. I could feel the chill, even though there was a fire burning in the hearth. However, they were more of a hindrance than a help.

My mercenary armor lay in a pile in the corner, and I got up to retrieve it. It was a poor set of armor, but it was the best I could buy. It was also warmer than the beige pajama-like outfit that the shems had dressed me in. I quickly stripped and began to pull on the armor, ignoring the cold air as best as I could.

I grabbed a brush on a nearby table and began to drag it through my hair, starting at the bottom. I knew that three days of straight sleeping would cause my hair to get a bit matted, and I was right. Once my hair was no longer a mop of tangles, I pulled it back into a simple braid.

Satisfied that I was at least a little bit presentable, I opened the door and stepped outside. The sight before me stopped me short. My jaw dropped momentarily, but I shut it quickly, causing the joint to pop.

At least a hundred people were gathered at the base of the hut's steps. The moment I emerged, they all grew quiet and raised their fists to their chests in salute. I stared dumbly at the crowd for several seconds, taken aback. Finally, I began to gather my wits, and I shook myself.

I descended the stairs, and the crowd parted before me as though I were a queen. Or a deity. My heart thumped unsteadily in my chest as I continued to step forward.

I hated being the center of attention; it felt wrong to me. Perhaps it was a side effect of being a slave for so long. Being the center of attention never meant that good things were about to happen. The opposite was too often the case.

No one in the crowd said a word as they watched me pass them by. They all just stood there staring at me with their arms raised in the traditional salute. At that moment, I wanted to disappear, to rid myself of these eyes which were all fixed on me in awe and adoration. At Haven, the eyes did not bother me. They were different, accusatory and angry, which was something I could manage. This… I did not know how to deal with this.

The Chantry came into view, and I quickened my pace. The moment I reached the wooden doors, I breathed a small sigh of relief, and I pushed open the doors. The scent of burning incense greeted me as I stepped inside, and the dimness of the hall nearly blinded me for a moment until my eyes adjusted.

At the far end of the Chantry, there was a man's voice, raised in anger. For a moment, I did not recognize who it belonged to, until I moved closer. I sneered. It was Chancellor Roderick.

I reached the door at the end of the hall, then I paused, took a deep breath, and unlatched the door. The moment I entered the room, Chancellor Roderick straightened up and glared at me with boiling hatred in his gaze.

"Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial," he commanded, motioning to the guards on either side of me.

Before I could even react, Cassandra spoke up in a tone that brooked no argument, "Disregard that, and leave us."

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding as I watched the two guards exit the room. Chancellor Roderick glared imperiously at Cassandra and crossed his arms.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker," he spat.

Something dark flashed in Cassandra's eyes, and she strode over to the Chancellor, her features hard and angry. I watched a tiny flicker of fear spark in his eyes, and I almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat," she replied through her teeth. "I will not ignore it."

"Nice to know that at least one person has not lost all sense of practicality," I commented lightly, picking a stray thread off of my armor. "Does this mean that I'm no longer a suspect, or did I risk my life and put myself into a coma for nothing?"

"And yet, you live. A convenient result, insofar as you're concerned," Chancellor Roderick glowered at me.

My lip curled upwards, baring my teeth at him. "Oh, should I have died while I was saving you? Would that have finally made me innocent in the eyes of the Chantry? If not for this," I lifted my left hand, "you fools would still be running around in mad circles, Haven would be lost to you, and you'd still have no way of combatting the Breach." A thought occurred to me and a feral grin appeared on my face. "But of course, you already knew that. And it scares the shit out of you that you needed me."

From the way the blood drained from Chancellor Roderick's face, I knew that my statements had struck a nerve, and I allowed myself a small amount of satisfaction at seeing the irritating man fumble over what to say in response. Cassandra stepped in between us before he could reply.

"She is right. Without the prisoner's aid, our situation would be far more dire. We did need her, and we still do," she said to the Chancellor, her features stern and unyielding. "However, have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face."

The redhead, Leliana, suddenly appeared beside Cassandra, and I flinched. I had not noticed her presence before that moment. She was just so quiet.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect," she said, staring the Chancellor down with an intensity that was no less intimidating that Cassandra's glares. "Perhaps they died with the other- or have allies who yet live."

The Chancellor was taken aback. "I am a suspect?"

"You, and many others," confirmed Leliana.

"But not the prisoner," he scoffed, jerking his chin in my direction.

Cassandra spoke up, "I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her for help."

"So her survival, that thing on her hand- all a coincidence?"

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour," she stated simply, and I knew in that moment that she was being completely serious.

I cleared my throat. "You believe that your Maker sent me? Did my ears lose their tips while I was in a coma? I'm an elf. A Dalish elf."

A flicker of disappointment appeared in Cassandra's eyes. "I have not forgotten. No matter what you are, or what you believe, you are exactly what we needed when we needed it." She turned and walked over to a bookcase in the room.

Leliana chimed in, "The Breach remains, and your Mark is still our only hope of closing it."

"That sounds fair, I suppose," I murmured.

Chancellor Roderick's expression turned sour. "This is not for you to decide."

Cassandra appeared at the table again, a large tome in hand. She shot one last glare at the Chancellor before slamming the book onto the top with a loud thud. I glanced over at the cover and noted the large, golden starburst symbol on the front.

"You know what this is, Chancellor," she said, pointing at the book. "A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

My eyes grew wide, and my jaw dropped slightly. The Inquisition?! I remembered the old Inquisition well. A precursor templar order of crazed zealots. For a time, I had not been sure what was worse, the Inquisition or the maleficar they hunted, as neither of them were particularly worried about civilian casualties. However, for all their faults, they had brought order, even though it was a stifling one, and there had been many good and honorable people in the first Inquisition. Some of them had even been my friends.

Reviving the Inquisition would be… I was not sure what it would be. Perhaps it was madness, Perhaps it was brilliance. At that moment, I was unsure, and I could only gawk at Cassandra in shock.

"We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order," continued Cassandra, backing the Chancellor up against the door as she invaded his space. "With or without your approval."

Chancellor Roderick saw the fire in Cassandra's dark eyes, and, wisely, chose not to retort. He glanced over at me and Leliana briefly with a look of distaste, and he spun around and left the room, slamming the door as he departed.

My eyes followed the Chancellor as he left, and when the door closed, a low chuckle escaped me. I grinned at Cassandra.

"Damn," I said appreciatively. "I take back all the nasty things I thought about you before. That was impressive. I thought he'd never leave."

Cassandra blinked uncomprehendingly at me for a split second. Then her features twisted into an expression that was torn between irritation and amusement. Irritation won, and she threw me a glare that would've certainly reduced most people to sobbing puddles on the floor. Fortunately, I'm not most people, and I settled for smiling benignly at her.

"Do you ever take anything seriously, elf?" she growled.

"On the contrary, Seeker," I replied mildly, pushing aside any witty retorts that begged to spill out. "I take many things seriously. For example, this talk of another Inquisition. I take that very seriously. Is this your solution to the Breach?"

Leliana spoke up, nodding, "It is. The the Divine gave us a directive, should darkness threaten our world again. 'Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos.'" She shook her head sadly. "We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support."

"But we have no choice. We must act now," Cassandra turned to me, "With you at our side."

I shut my eyes and lifted my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I took a few long, calming breaths before I opened my eyes. Leliana and Cassandra were watching me carefully, waiting for me to respond.

"This is beginning to sound an awful lot like a holy war," I said finally, my expression stony. "Will there be an exalted march accompanying us? It's been too long since the last one, after all."

"Our aim is not conquest, but restoration. There will be no exalted march," Cassandra countered. "Regardless, we are already at war. You are already involved. Its mark is upon you. As to whether the war is holy… that depends on what we discover."

My lips pursed. She had a valid point. I was already involved, and it was too late to back out. I did not like this new situation anymore than I did before, but I knew when I had no other choice. Unless there was someone else out there who could close rifts… no. No, I had to stay. I had to help. It would be damned irresponsible for me not to, and while I was many things, irresponsible was not one of them.

"So once the Breach is sealed and order is restored, we will stand down? Like the last Inquisition? No more, yes?" I asked, watching the two of them for any signs of dishonesty. Especially Leliana. She struck me as unusually shifty.

"That is the plan," Leliana replied.

Cassandra extended her right hand to me. "Help us fix this. Before it is too late."

I eyed the proffered hand and glanced up at Cassandra's expectant and hopeful brown eyes. Slowly, I lifted my right, unmarked hand and reached out to grasp hers, but I stopped halfway there and chuckled to myself. This was simply too strange. It was almost like a dream. I reached out entirely and took hold of Cassandra's hand, giving it a firm shake.

She smiled at me, and I knew then that this was the beginning of something that would change my entire life forever. And I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that.

The next few hours consisted mainly of me being relegated to a bedroom in the Chantry, while Cassandra and Leliana met with a couple of other important-looking people. One of them looked suspiciously like the templar I'd run into at the temple. I could hear muffled discussions in the war room adjacent to me, but my listening in turned up nothing interesting.

And so, with nothing better to do, I sat down on the bed, retrieved a spool of dark thread and a needle from one of my pockets, pulled off my somewhat torn mercenary coat, and set to work. There was not much that needed to be repaired, and so the work went by fairly quickly. Despite that, my mind began to wander back the Conclave, and I did not notice the footsteps approaching the room until the door swung open.

I jumped slightly and nearly stabbed my finger with the needle. It was Leliana, and she was staring at me with a rather odd expression on her face. It was then that I realized I was wearing nothing but a pair of trousers and a breastband.

I fought the urge to snort. Shemlen were so uncomfortable with nudity, even partial nudity.

"If you don't mind?" Leliana cleared her throat. I could tell that she was not some blushing Chantry sister, but she probably preferred me clothed anyway.

"Not at all. I was beginning to get a little chilled anyway," I replied, smirking as I put the newly repaired coat back on. "What can I do for you?"

"If we are to work together, there are some questions I must ask you about your background," she stated matter-of-factly. "It is standard protocol for new recruits. You are not exempt from this."

Oh, this should be good. My eyebrows raised upwards in amused surprise, but I still shrugged in vague agreement. She wanted to be sure of my loyalty to the cause, and I had no problem with that.

"Go ahead."

Leliana gave a small nod and sat on the chair opposite my bed. I shifted slightly and took that moment to get a proper look at the hooded redhead.

Her hair was short and fell around her jawline. Short and practical for combat. She was a fighter, much like Cassandra, but not quite. Compared to Cassandra's muscular bulk and taller stature, Leliana was far leaner and quite a bit shorter. Yet, she appeared no less threatening to me. Smaller bodies can hold a deceptively large amount of power, and, as one of the Hands of the Divine, she must be powerful.

"We shall start with something easy," she said, settling into the chair and crossing her legs. "What is your full name?"

"Mahalia Lavellan," I responded truthfully. "Although I have gone by Halia since the age of four. Mahalia is quite a mouthful for a little child to pronounce, and Halia simply stuck."

"At what point did you receive the brand above your left breast?"

The question caught me off guard before I remembered what she was talking about. Instinctively, I reached up to rub at ancient dragon brand that had stayed with me for most of my life. Even though it had faded considerably, it still remained and was prominent.

"Tevinter," I replied. "I was a slave there for many years. I doubt you'll find many records of me there. The Masters don't really care enough about our identities to write stuff down about us."

I could tell that my answer had piqued her interest. She was doing an admirable job of not showing it, but her eyes had sharpened and the curious gleam was unmistakeable. I was beginning to regret taking my shirt off without locking the door.

Vaguely, I wondered if the door even had a lock. If it didn't, I would have to fix that. I had no desire for people to wander in and marvel at the marks on my body. My history was private. The years with the Dalish had made me grown complacent with hiding my secret from the shems. That had to be fixed as well.

"How long were you in Tevinter?"

I fought the urge to smirk. "Sometimes it feels like centuries. But really, I don't quite know. The years have blurred together to the point where it's impossible to remember."

It was not a lie. Not quite the truth either, but not a lie. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I could have sworn that Leliana had caught on to my evasion of the question. She just sat there, staring at me like a still cat watching a mouse flit back and forth on the floor, waiting.

"And where are you from?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I'm Dalish," I replied dryly. "I'm not from anywhere. We travel far too much to form any attachments to one place."

Surprisingly, Leliana smiled softly. "No place of origin and no records? You are a spy's worst nightmare. Although, you are not as bad as Solas. You, at least, have a clan we can contact."

Perhaps it was because I had lived for so long, perhaps it was because I had known people much like her before, but the friendly smile and tone struck me as odd and not at all genuine. It was a calculated move, likely to get me to relax and speak freely.

I smiled back, although mine did not come even close to reaching my eyes. I knew this game well; I'd played it many times. Number one rule of all interrogations in my book: never engage in outside conversation with your interrogator. Answer the question simply and say nothing else.

And so, I said nothing, and the silence dragged on for several seconds. Leliana was still watching me carefully. I could tell that my lack of response had mildly surprised her, but it did not deter her.

"Where is your clan now?"

I shrugged. "Assuming a rift didn't open over their campsite, they're still about twenty miles east of Ostwick. They will move on in another two weeks."

"This is Clan Lavellan, yes?"

"Correct."

"You were born to Clan Lavellan before you were a slave in Tevinter?"

"Yes," I replied. Where was she going with this?

Something in Leliana's blue gaze shifted, and her lips quirked upwards. I watched the movement, noting that the motion this time was genuine. She had discovered something.

"Surely then, the others in your clan would recall how long you've been gone, would they not?" I almost stopped breathing. "After all, who could forget the loss of a treasured child, and the years between then and her return? You would know your age, yes?"

Fuck. She's good.

"We measure our years differently from you humans," I lied. "Instead of basing our calendar on the sun, it is based on the phases of the moon. In our measurement of time, I am thirty. I don't really care about your measurement of time to figure out what my age is to your culture."

It was a thin lie, but only for those who aren't familiar with lunar and solar calendars. Their main difference is that the solar one has a few extra days. Someone who would know that would laugh me out of the room, or think I'm incredibly stupid.

Leliana smiled thinly, and brought up her hand, which had been resting on her lap in a closed fist. She opened her fist, revealing a small blue stone about the size of a plum. It was glowing.

I pursed my lips in irritation. "You do know that's cheating, right?"

"I am not the one who decided to tell falsehoods," Leliana replied coldly. "Now, are you going to tell me the truth, or shall I let Cassandra know that you've been telling lies? She is a Seeker of Truth, and her methods involve quite a bit of violence and breaking of bones."

I eyed the Truth Stone in distaste and sighed. There was a moment of silence while I contemplated what I would say. I had not anticipated that a Truth Stone would be a part of the equation. They were so rare that I'd practically forgotten about their existence.

Either way, I was stuck. Tell the truth and risk being captured and experimented on? Again? Or spin more lies and be taken to a real interrogation, where my secret will be found out anyway? Both options led to the same outcome.

Why wait?

"Alright. You caught me," I said, holding up my hands in a sign of surrender. "What do you want to know?"

"Where are you from?"

"The City of Arlathan."

That caused a noticeable crack to form in Leliana's finely crafted mask. Her brows knit together at my frankness, and she glanced down at the stone in her hand, which had yet to burst to life and radiate heat.

"You mean, the forest of Arlathan," she said, attempting to correct my statement. "The city was destroyed by the Imperium millennia ago."

I chuckled and leaned back against the headboard, linking my hands behind my head. The first reaction was always denial. This was the fun part.

"Oh, I know. I was there," I replied, grinning broadly. The look of utter disbelief and confusion on her face was too beautiful not to be amused by. "Do you want to ask me my age now?"

"You are insane. Delusional," decided Leliana, eyes wide.

I scoffed. "Of course I'm insane. Do you honestly believe that I would live as long as I have without going a little crazy? Although, delusional is a little bit of a stretch."

Leliana gawked openly at me, dumbstruck. No doubt the Orlesian Game had not prepared her for someone claiming to be an immortal from legend. To her credit, she gained control over her features quickly, and the mask was back in place. But she did not speak yet.

"In answer to the question you asked earlier, I'm approximately two thousand and seven hundred," I said, still grinning madly at her. "I say approximately because I wasn't lying when I said I don't know. There are whole decades that are blurred out of my head. Time's fucked up when you're immortal."

"You," Leliana cleared her throat, "you can't be immortal. Such a thing is impossible."

I burst out laughing. "Really?! There's a giant fucking hole in the sky, and you tell me that I am impossible? Child, you seriously need to broaden your horizons. Especially during this crazy time."

She did not respond.

"What does your Truth Stone say?" I prodded. "Has it ever been wrong? Its purpose is to uncover who is not telling the truth. So, come on. What does it say? Is it hot or cold?"

Leliana hesitated for a moment before opening her fist again, revealing the small blue stone. It no longer glowed.

"It's cold," she replied, her voice low and hard to hear. Despite the emotionless mask she wore, I knew that I had scared her. "You are what you say you are. But… how?"

I was sorely tempted to say that I didn't know, but that would have caused the stone to flare up.

"I'm special," I said lightly. The stone remained devoid of light.

There was a knock at the door that drew both of our attentions. A thickly accented, slightly irritated Nevarran voice called out from the other side.

"If you are quite finished with your interrogation, our commander and ambassador are ready to meet with us."

"We shall only be a moment," Leliana called back.

She stood up from her chair and returned the Truth Stone to a pouch underneath her long, chainmail and leather tunic.

"So, what are you going to tell Cassandra?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"That you are not a threat," she replied simply.

"Really?"

Her gaze snapped over at me, and I found myself the subject of two very cold, piercing blue eyes again. If I had not been as old and experienced as I was, I would have been terrified of this human woman. As it was, I was merely amused.

"You are here to help us close the Breach," she said, crossing her arms. "I understand your desire for secrecy, as there are no doubt those who would wish you ill, if they knew. The fewer who know, the safer you are. And I have no desire to put the Inquisition's best asset in such jeopardy."

"Thank you, Leliana," I smiled, sincere in my thanks. "Not many humans would agree to keep this quiet. I know this is for the betterment of the Inquisition, but still. I am grateful."

Leliana gave me a curt nod before striding towards the door. Just before she reached the handle, a thought occurred to me, and I turned towards her.

"Before you go, does Cassandra know that you use a Truth Stone?" I asked. I kept my expression innocent and blank, but inside, I was cackling.

The glare I received was positively frigid. "No. Nor does she need to."

I tsked at her, smirking with barely contained glee. "How naughty of you, Leliana. Using a contraband Tevinter artifact for doing the Maker's work. Well, it's an elven artifact repurposed by Tevinter, but that's virtually the same thing. Did you use it on me when we met?"

"Yes."

I nodded in understanding. "No wonder you pulled Cassandra off me when she attacked. You believed me. I suppose I should thank you for that too. Now that I think about it, I ought to make a list."

There was another knock on the door, this time more urgent. Leliana rolled her eyes at Cassandra's impatience and opened the door. As she strode out, she called back over her shoulder,

"Save your gratitude for when this is over."

And she was gone. I blinked at the empty doorway where she'd just been standing. I wondered what could have happened to her that had turned her so cold. There was a time long ago where I'd been that way. Before I'd learned to accept the ridiculous and cruel ironies that seemed to govern every aspect of life.

"Are you ready?"

I glanced up. Cassandra stood in the doorway, looking down at me expectantly. I grinned up at her and stood.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."

The Herald of Andraste. Fucking idiots.

I stormed out of the Chantry, caught sight of a small group of recruits who saw me and saluted, and I veered hard to the left. I had no desire to deal with naive, excitable Andrastians who saw me as their savior. I was no one's savior.

There was a group of small cabins ahead that looked fairly deserted and quiet, and I immediately headed towards them. Perhaps I could hide behind one and take some time to collect myself before I had to deal with the zealots again.

I had just entered a clearing in between three cabins, when a smooth, velvety voice from behind me spoke up.

"The Chosen of Andraste. The Blessed Hero meant to save us all." The tone was not mocking. Well, not entirely. But there was a definite edge of amused teasing to the words.

I groaned and rolled my eyes as I turned to face Solas. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and his head cocked slightly to the side, as though he was considering something about me carefully.

"Oh please, not you too," I griped before I could stop myself.

His dark auburn eyebrows rose slightly, surprised. "I take it that the title does not agree with you."

"That's one way of putting it." I sighed deeply and shook my head. "I'm not a hero. I don't want the humans to write songs about me and give me fancy titles. I just want to seal the Breach so that we can all go back to our lives."

"Pragmatic. But ultimately, irrelevant," commented Solas.

I snorted. "You're right. They're going to write songs and give me titles anyway, but still. I hope they at least depict us properly in their songs and artworks. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be given the same treatment as Shartan."

"You believe that the Chantry will erase that we are elves?" questioned Solas. "And interesting theory. That would surely be difficult, as we are here to refute such claims."

I shook my head. "Oh it won't be immediate. It'll happen slowly, with one step at a time. First, they'll cover up our feet with boots in their artworks," I motioned to our equally bare toes. "Then, they'll conveniently forget that I have vallaslin. Then, our ears will become progressively smaller and rounder as time goes by. At last, it will be decided that our skills as mages are too dangerous to be taught to the populace, and they'll make sure we're carrying broadswords instead of staffs. And there you go, we have been given the Shartan treatment.

If you don't believe me, go anywhere in Orlais where there's a statue or mural of Shartan. His ears have been cropped in every single one. Some of the croppings are really poor too."

Throughout my impassioned speech, Solas listened with careful interest, and he seemed unsurprised at what I was saying. Perhaps he had already seen the depictions of the old elven hero.

"You are right, of course, if the past is anything to be learned from," he said when I was done, and I was momentarily taken aback by how easily he agreed with me. Most people liked to argue with me when I made speeches. "However, it is impossible to know how history and time will shape your legend. Especially now at the beginning when we have barely begun."

I pursed my lips in slight annoyance at his mild rebuttal, but I had nothing to respond with. He was correct. I did not know what would happen, but I could guess with relative accuracy.

He slowly sauntered past me, and he stopped at a stone wall adjacent to a flight of stone stairs. Solas gazed out over the small town of Haven, watching the new recruits scramble across the complex.

"I have journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations," he began softly. His smooth, accented voice gave his words a musical quality that was pleasant to listen to, and I found myself drawing nearer to hear him better. "I've watched as hosts of spirits clashed to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars, both famous and forgotten."

Solas turned back towards me, watching me with the same curious and scrutinizing look that he gave me before.

"Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

Ancient ruins and battlefields? The dreams of lost civilizations? No, he can't be. Can he?

"Are you…" I hesitated, not entirely certain how to proceed. It has been so long since I've met a mortal dreamer. "Are you, by any chance, a Somniari?"

"I am, yes," Solas replied. He smiled. "I see that you have heard of the skill. Few have."

I grinned cheekily up at him. "That might be because I am one too."

The smile dropped from Solas's face, and he stared at me with wide-eyed astonishment. Then, slowly, the smile returned again. His eyes practically glittered with interest and curiosity.

"That is extraordinary," he said, his enthusiasm careful but clear. "I have not met many other dreamers, and even fewer who have heard of us."

"Other than my brother, you're the only other Somniari I know of," I admitted. "I'd be interested in hearing about some of the memories you've uncovered. I don't 'dream' as much as I used to. Most of the memories I've seen were unbearably depressing, so I stopped after a while. Hopefully you had better luck."

"I would be happy to share them with you. I do have quite a few stories that are not 'unbearably depressing', as you say," Solas agreed, still smiling softly. "Although you are right. More often it is just sad to see what has been lost. But the thrill of finding remnants of a thousand year old dream? I would not trade it for anything."

He looked away suddenly, and his expression became far more serious.

"I will stay then. At least until the Breach has been closed," he said with finality, as though he had only just decided that.

I frowned at him. "Was that in doubt?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces, and, unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

Yes, I did understand his caution. Without the Mark, I would have run far away from this place, provided I had not been blown to little bits. I would likely not have taken the risks and stayed to help, like he did. And yet, he was in more danger here than I was. That did not strike me as right.

"You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you," I stated firmly.

He raised a brow in question. "How would you stop them?"

I lifted my chin up as I looked him straight in the eye and said, "By whatever means necessary, Solas. You may not be Dalish, but you are still my kin. I will protect you."

Solas's mouth fell slightly open, and he stared openly at me, clearly taken aback. At this point, I was beginning to wonder if that was going to be his usual expression when he dealt with me.

"Thank you. That is unexpected."

I smiled at him gently. "Don't mention it. We crazy elves must stick together."

"A curious sentiment, but I am thankful for it," Solas chuckled. "But now, let us hope that either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach."

A/N: Well this chapter was a bear to write. Since the plot is more loose here, I toyed with different scenes, but ultimately I undid most of them. The chapter is already long.

By the way, I know there's no such thing as a Truth Stone in canon, but I felt like it would be a cool addition. There's all sorts of weird artifacts that Tevinter took from the elves. Why not a stone that points out liars? Perfect tool for a spymaster like Leliana.

Anyway, holy cow, you guys! Thirteen reviews! Thank you so much! Shout out to , LaraHawke, tinejensen, BluJeza, DemonDragon000, Raspberry Jo, Asilyessam, Guest, Lethal Dragon, QuietRose-13, Willowsle, Lilyth Celestyn, and Jewels 941. You are all awesome! Thank you. :D

So yeah, please leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. I love hearing them. Your words inspire me to keep writing more.

Dareth Shiral~