I just want to give a quick shout-out to Autobot Wheeljack on Youtube. Their elf mage walkthrough was actually fairly close to everything my OC would have done, dialogue choices and all, right down to some of the smaller choices. It was the walkthrough I used for most of this. If something didn't match up, which was rarely, it was honestly a pain in the butt to find the right video with dialogue choices I needed. So thank you! You saved me A LOT of searching!

4 - The Flat-Ear

"Does it trouble you?"

I look back up from my hand at Cassandra. I hadn't even noticed that she'd seen me eyeing the mark. "If it wasn't enough to close the Breach, what use is it?"

"You did everything we asked of you."

I clench my fist, hiding the blemish. "And it still didn't work."

"What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed — provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place." She sighs. "That is not easy to come by."

She continues on her way to what she's been calling the War room: the room where Chancellor Roderick had been dismissed so crassly by Casssandra. The giant table had been adorned with a map of both Ferelden and Orlais in the hours since.

I laugh under my breath. "What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?"

She holds back a smirk. "Hold on to that sense of humor."

Leliana is already waiting. Two more people stand with her. A man, attractive for a shemlen male, with curly blond hair. And a woman with dark skin and black hair held back in an elegant bun.

"May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces," Cassandra says, pointing to the man.

He shakes his head. "Such as they are. We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through."

Cassandra points to the woman. "This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."

She nods at me. "Andaran atish'an (1)."

I start, staring open mouthed at her. "You speak elven?!"

She laughs. "You've heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid."

Either way, it wasn't bad.

"And of course you know Sister Leliana," Cassandra says.

Leliana shifts on her feet. "My position here involves a degree of…"

"She is our spymaster."

"Yes," Leliana sighs. "Tactfully put, Cassandra."

I wonder why they seem to think I need to be put in the middle of all these shemlen dealings. Can't they just…work it all out between themselves and call me back in when the Breach is ready to close?

I look at all of them despite my frustration. "That's…an impressive bunch of titles." Humans and their need for frivolous names.

Cassandra ignores my comment. "I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good."

Leliana steps forward. "Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help."

Cullen grips the sword at his side. "And I disagree. The Templars could serve just as well."

"We need power, Commander," Cassandra adds. "Enough magic poured into that mark—"

"Might destroy us all. Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so—"

Leliana grunts. "Pure speculation."

"I was a Templar. I know what they're capable of."

Josephine, who had been quiet until this moment, sighs. "Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition — and you specifically." She looks at me.

I hadn't been paying too much attention until that point. "That didn't take long," I say.

Cullen shakes his head. "Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who's going to become Divine?" The coy smile on his face puts me at ease just a slight bit.

Josephine ignores him. "Some are calling you — a Dalish elf — the 'Herald of Andraste.' That frightens the Chantry. The remaining Clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you."

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra growls.

"It limits our options. Approaching the mages or Templars for help is currently out of the question."

My brows furrow together. "Just how am I the 'Herald of Andraste?'" I'm an elf, I barely stop myself from screaming.

Cassandra wrings her hands. "People saw what you did at the Temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste."

"Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading —"

Cassandra interrupts Leliana. "Which we have not."

"The point is, everyone is talking about you."

Cullen smirks at me. "It's quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about it?"

"It's…" I hesitate. "A little unsettling," I answer truthfully.

"I'm sure the Chantry would agree," he says.

"People are desperate for a sign of hope," Leliana begins. "For some, you're that sign."

"And to others," Josephine adds, "a symbol of everything that's gone wrong."

I shake my head in disbelief. "They aren't more concerned about the Breach? The real threat?"

Cullen shrugs. "They do know that it is a threat, they just don't think we can stop it."

"The Chantry is telling everyone that you'll make it worse," Josephine says.

"There is something you can do." Leliana steps forward toward the map on the table. "A Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

A Chantry Mother asked for me? I picture a woman who looks oddly like Chancellor Roderick in my mind. It doesn't settle well in my stomach. I stare at the map for a long moment. "She's asked for me? You don't think that could be an ambush?"

Leliana shakes her head. "I doubt it. From what I know of her, she is a kind soul and not the sort to involve herself in violence." She taps a small dot above a pawn not far from where Haven is marked. "You'll find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe."

Cullen steps closer to the map as well. "Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence while you're there."

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley," Josephine says, "and you're better suited than anyone to recruit them."

Wait, what? They want me to…

"In the meantime," Cassandra says, "let's think of other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald."

Oh, Dread Wolf…

The next few days pass in what feels a blur. The three advisors use their influence to spread the word of the Inquisition while we wait for Leliana's scouts to clear a path to the Hinterlands. Cassandra is continuing to insist I lead the mission to find Mother Giselle, and she does not budge when I try to convince her she is better suited.

Despite agreeing to stay, I find myself uncomfortable in their world. I am not used to their way of life: bodies constantly moving, buildings bustling with noise. Nature seems so far away when I'm huddled in my small cabin for the night. More than once, I find myself wandering outside, deep in the night, merely to watch the stars move and animals scamper along the frozen lake. Night is my only chance for solitude, for during the day I'm pulled this way and that.

I do not believe that I am the "Herald" that the people in this place believe me to be. But the rumors are never squashed and I'm thrust into the middle of most dealings, front and center. It makes me uneasy.

After the first few days pass, and the newness of it all has finally started to ebb, I let myself wander the town. It is mainly made up of many small cabins, much like the one I've been given, spread out below the Chantry. The entirety of it is surrounded by a great wooden fence. Outside the gates is where the soldiers sleep and train, day and night, just next to the forever frozen lake.

I do not talk to many of the villagers, instead letting them watch me walk by in silence. Too many of them call me "knife-ear" before realizing who I am. But there is one person, out of everyone, I feel myself drawn to.

"So," Varric begins, letting me sit down at his small campfire. "Now that Cassandra's out of earshot, are you holding up all right? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day."

I sigh, huddling close to the fire. The day is nearly ended and the temperature creeping toward uncomfortable. "I have no idea what's happening anymore."

He laughs. "That makes two of us." He slides over, handing me a small cup of warm liquid. One sniff tells me it's elfroot tea. "For days now, we've been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. 'Bad for morale' would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there and lived."

"If it was that bad, why did you stay? Cassandra said you were free to go."

"I like to think I'm as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this…" His face falls, something I rarely see happen, especially for him. "Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there's a hole in the sky. Even I can't walk away and just leave that to sort itself out."

I cannot fault him in that. It was the reason I had agreed to stay as well. "It's pure luck that I escaped."

He laughs. "Good luck or bad?"

I don't answer.

"You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I've written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I've seen that. But the hole in the sky? That's beyond heroes. We're going to need a miracle."

It takes four days to hear back from the scouts, saying the path is clear.

More often than not, as the sky grows dark, I find myself wandering over to Varric's campfire to listen to his stories. He never tells me which of them are true and which fiction. All I know is sitting there reminds me of home more than anything else. Not even walking past the flat-ear, Solas, on my way to grab more potions. He holds himself too much like a human for me to find any comfort in his presence, so I avoid him as much as possible.

At least, as long as Varric isn't forcing the issue.

"Hey, Chuckles!" he says, waving down the flat-ear as he walks past the fire. "Come join Miss Herald and I in a few drinks."

The flat-ear looks at him for a long moment. His eyes flit to mine. "Some other time, maybe."

"Ah, come on!" He stands, subtly blocking the flat-ear's way. "Let's take a break playing the loner, broody elf and come join in the festivities, shall we? We're all working together now. Might as well warm up to each other."

I know what Varric is doing without even asking. No doubt he's noticed the way my voice trials off when we talk about my life back in the clan, and hopes that conversing with this flat-ear will ease the transition. There is no way he would understand why I don't wish to converse with him. All he could see is two elves surrounded by humans. I throw a quick scowl at him before glancing at the flat-ear.

What I see surprises me. Never before have I seen him hesitate. Given, I do not know him well nor do I pretend to understand him. However, the way he usually holds himself hints at confidence. This Solas, the one looking back at me with conflict in his gaze, makes my skin prickle.

"If I must," he says after a moment, inclining his head. Varric walks behind him as if to keep him from slipping away.

I look away from him as he sits across from me, taking a long swig from my tea.

"So, Chuckles, what's the story?" Varric asks.

"Story?"

"Your story."

The flat-ear merely smirks. "There's not much to tell. I'd prefer not to. At least for the moment."

Varric huffs, rolling his eyes with a playful smile on his face.

I chuckle.

The flat-ear inclines his head at me again, something he seems to do a lot. "You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?"

The question catches me off guard. "What do you know of the Dalish?"

"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion."

Your people. I study his face for just a moment. Despite his grayish blue eyes being unpainted by vallaslin, I would never not consider him one of the people, flat-ear or not. "We are both of the same people."

He looks away from me then. "The Dalish I met felt…differently on the subject."

Varric sighs. This, apparently, isn't going like he had hoped. "Can't you elves just play nice for once?"

I frown at him. "I'm playing nice. Honest." I look back at the flat-ear. He still isn't looking at me, eyes focused on something off in the distance. "Not all Dalish feel that way."

His eyes widen in surprise as he looks back at me. "Oh? I am guessing you are referring to yourself."

"Maybe. Being a flat-ear does not make your origin any less than mine."

He actually seems taken aback. "I…" He clears his throat, looking down at the cup in his hand. He stands quite abruptly. "I must go."

He leaves without another word.

Varric whistles quickly. "Well, shit. Why did you have to call him a flat-ear? He seems more 'elf' than even you."

"I…" I stammer, not understanding what he means. "Well, it is what he is." I shake my head to clear it. I reach over and punch his arm. "But put me in that situation again, and I'll light your bed on fire."

Varric laughs, deep and loud. "Oh, I'd like to see you try."

We both laugh until our chests burn with pain.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" he asks once we've gone still.

"Hm?"

"About going to the Hinterlands."

"Oh. That."

"Yes," he chuckles. "That."

"Do you believe this…Mother Giselle will be able to aid us?"

"Eh," he shrugs. "I can't say. I don't think there'll be any harm in asking, at least."

I grip my cup tighter.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asks, voice low.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Truth is, I am petrified. Cassandra still insists on me leading the way. The fact that she, along with Varric and the flat-ear, will be accompanying me gives me little comfort.

I sigh. "I fear I will mess this up."

"Ah, don't worry. You'll do fine." He reaches over and pats me on the shoulder. "You don't see what I see."

"And what is it that you see, Varric?"

He smiles, the same smile he'd given Cassandra when I had first met him. "An elf who doesn't realize just how much power she has." He leans back and takes a deep swig, draining his drink. "Like I said, you'll do fine."

I still can't help but clench my teeth in fear.

That night, I'm too restless to get comfortable in the strange human bed that I've been provided. I long for the sounds of nature around me, the stars shining above. It is very late into the night by the time I give up the struggle, reaching underneath my bed to pull out the bedroll stashed there.

The village is empty, not counting the few guards stationed throughout the area. The two standing next to the gate nod at me as I open the large doors and step out.

I already know where I want to go. I had discovered the secluded dock my first full day in Haven, while I had been looking for herbs for Adan, the alchemist turned healer. My feet carry me as if in a trance, my mind free to wander and fret about the upcoming adventure. I don't even acknowledge the small wooden shack off in the middle of the woods. I merely walk past, through the opening in yet another wooden fence.

I suddenly slam head-first into something solid and fall to the ground in a small heap. Magic bursts in an explosion, burying me in a dusting of snow, and then disappears. I groan, glad at least for the thick padding of snow beneath me, as I sit up and rub at my forehead.

What was that?

"Apologizes. These wards were not meant for you."

I squeal, falling back again. I look up at the man I had not seen nor heard approach. "Oh, it's you," I mumble. Stupid flat-ear.

The flat-ear chuckles. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone, actually."

"Ah." He leans against his staff and holds out his hand. "Well, neither was I. Again, I apologize."

I grunt as I take his hand. He pulls me up with ease.

"May I ask what brings you out this late into the night?"

"I could ask the same of you," I say, a bit harsher than I had intended.

He inclines his head but says nothing.

"I merely wished to sleep under the stars."

He watches me for a moment, eyes searching. Then he smiles. "Ma harel, da'len (2)."

That catches me off guard, not only his use of the Elven language, but his calling me a child. It puts me on edge.

"I do not lie to you."

His brows unfurl slightly. He finally leans away from his staff. "I merely meant that something is troubling you. I can see it in your gaze."

A sharp intake of breath hisses through my teeth. Is it so obvious, even to a flat-ear?

"I — I worry about tomorrow. That is all."

"What has you worried?"

"I…" I wring my hands in front of me. "I worry I may mess this up. Cassandra expects so much of me."

"You needn't worry."

"Varric says the same. Why does everyone have such confidence in me?"

He chuckles, the same kind of laugh he'd done after I'd asked if he was apart of the Chantry. "You're the Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all."

I narrow my eyes, pursing my lips.

"You think I'm mocking you." He shakes his head, his mouth turned downward slightly in disappointment. "This age has made people cynical."

I can't help but laugh under my breath. "Am I riding on a shining steed, then?" The question sounds like something that would've come from Varric's mouth, not mine, and it surprises me.

"I would have suggested a griffon, but sadly, they're extinct." He pauses, though his lips are still set into a small smirk. "Joke as you will, posturing is necessary."

"Oh?"

He turns from me, walking toward the dock jutting out over the lake. "I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten." He looks over his shoulder at me. "Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

The way he speaks has a pleasant rhythm to it, I notice. I move to stand next to him, curious despite myself. "What do you mean ruins and battlefields?"

He gestures toward the dock just in front of us. There, unnoticed by me before, I see a small fire sparking near the edge and a blanket spread out across the frozen planks. I follow him and sit near the flames, rubbing my hands against the warmth.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen."

I realize my mouth is hanging open and I quickly close it. "I've…never heard of anyone going that deep into the Fade. That's extraordinary."

He pauses in warming his hands against the fire as well. "Thank you. It's not a common field of study, for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. The thrill of finding remnants of a thousand year old dream? I would not trade it for anything." He looks at me then, eyes narrow but curious. "Does this subject not frighten you?"

I wonder the same thing, deep in my mind. "I find it…fascinating, to be honest. My Keeper…she never taught me much of the Fade itself. She feared it too greatly." I pause, remembering his comment. I'm just curious what kind you'll be. "I hope…to be the kind of hero who makes the world a better place."

"It isn't always that easy…but I wish you luck." He seems to think about something for a moment, his eyes unfocused. "I will stay then, at least until the Breach has been closed."

Had he planned on leaving? I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a Divine mark protecting me." He stands. "Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

I suddenly imagine him chained to the floor like I had been, below a clear and brilliant sky, Varric next to him as well. If that image had crossed his mind at all in the last few days, I honestly couldn't blame him for debating on leaving. Mages are much too feared in this world.

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

It's the first time I've called him by his name and he doesn't seem to miss this. His eyebrows raise. If he had hair brushing his forehead, they would have easily disappeared in its depths. "How would you stop them?"

I finally push myself up, standing next to him. "However I had to."

Again, I seem to have surprised him. He gives me that same hesitantly curious look. "Thank you."

I shrug. "No mage, apostate or not, should suffer after such a willingness to help."

He starts to turn away, back toward the village. "For now, let us hope either the mages or the Templars have the power to seal the Breach."

"Wait, are you leaving?"

"Yes. I should leave you to sleep."

I watch him walk away, thinking about our conversation about the Fade.

When I dream in such places…

I gasp, realizing what he had meant.

"Wait, you fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins? Isn't that dangerous?"

He stops, looking over his shoulder. "I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live." He waves his hand then, mana pouring from his being. The ward I had ran into earlier springs back to life.

My heart falls as I understand what I had interrupted. "Is that what you were doing, just now? Exploring the Fade?"

"Yes. I, too, find it easier to dream outside the village walls."

I pick up my bedroll. "Then please, continue. I'll find somewhere else to—"

"No."

I look back up. He's facing me once more, a few steps closer than before.

"I have finished all I can for the night. Please, stay. My wards will keep you safe."

I debate with myself for a long moment. I finally set my bedroll back down. "Ma serannas (3)." I lean down and unroll the bedding. "You don't have to go. I would not mind listening to some tales about the Fade."

There is no answer. I look up.

He is gone. Despite that, I have no doubt he had heard me.

(1) Andaran atish'an - an elven greeting meaning "enter this place in peace"

(2) Ma harel, da'len - elvish for "You lie, child"

(3) Ma serannas - elvish for "my thanks" or "thank you"