"What would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!" Cullen's heated voice could be heard by half the camp during the night. Again, the advisors were all engaged in a feverish argument, this time including Cassandra.

It has been three days since John found them, one since he woke up, still struggling with his injury. However, it did not stopped him from telling most of what he found during the almost lethal battle with the twisted creature.

Corypheus, that was how it called itself, a one thousand years old magister from Tevinter, who entered the Golden City physically. Leliana soon connected the dots, the story that the Chantry always told, about the seven magisters that desecrated the seat of the Maker, who were casted down as darkspawn, bringing the Blight to the world.

Even before, as a strong believer, she never imagined having proof of that tale. Now, having one of those responsible for the Maker's silence as a direct threat, that brought a completely new level to the word enemy.

The so-called Elder One was the responsible for the Breach, for killing Dorothea. It also created the mark that was now placed on Trevelyan's left hand as a tool, for entering the Fade once again, aiming for godhood. Somehow, the noble ruined his plans and ended up with the tool to himself.

His narrative was shallow, but as the young man battled the limitations caused by his damaged body to tell more details about it, Mother Giselle kicked them out of the tent, demanding rest for him.

The bard protested, after all, as a true spymaster, she needed more information to help the Inquisition, even at his health expense. Nevertheless, it was to no avail, the Revered Mother was a powerful figure, and as the commander and Josephine left, obeying her orders, it turned to be a helpless cause.

The situation brought some light to her, she found out that keeping herself ruthless for her position was a difficult effort, especially if involved him. He had already left his mark on her. However, the redhead was sure what was needed, and would try to achieve it, by any means necessary.

'It is going to be a hard task.' She wondered to herself.

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!" The seeker retorted to the former Templar's words. This drew her attention back to the discussion at hand, about what to do now.

Those last few days seemed to pass slower, and with the extra time, the number of arguments increased drastically.

Now they were debating about their forces, many of whom wanted out since the Breach was closed, but with the responsible for it showing itself, there was still work to do.

"And who putted you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!" Rutherford's response was immediate. He was the most distressed with the situation.

"Please, we must use reason!" The ambassador entered the conversation, trying to calm them. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we are hobbled." She explained, aiming to direct their focus into finding a new base of operations and aid from somewhere.

"That can't come from nowhere!" Cullen spoke, a little too loud.

That made the bard intervene, in favor of her friend, taking a few steps towards the commander. "She didn't say it could!" She defended the Antivan.

"Enough! This is getting us nowhere!" Pentaghast's boisterous tone made them all exchange glances, before everyone shared a tired sigh and disengaged from the argument. Finally tiring themselves from arguing between each other.

"Well, we're agreed on that much." The former Templar finished, turning his back to them.

Josie and her decided to seat on a nearby bench by the fire, while Cassandra kept scanning tirelessly the map on the top of a table and the only man involved began walking around, trying to vent his rage.

Then something attracted her eyes, movement from inside a tent, John's tent. The master of espionage saw him seated, hands folded on his lap and looking down, while Giselle said some words to him.

'He is awake again.' She concluded, maintaining her focus on him for a while, before beginning to stare the blazing fire ahead of her, losing herself in thoughts.

A few moments passed before he again drew her attention, this time, he raised to his feet, eyeing them quickly, and then delivered a small punch to the barrack's supporting column, clearly frustrated.

Suddenly, Giselle's voice echoed through the encampment. Beginning a song extremely familiar to the bard.

The circumstances were dire, but those lyrics brought relief and hope to her heart, a heart that went through a lot recently. Therefore, she could not help but join the singing. Apparently, she was not the only one moved by it.

For her surprise, one by one, the other members of the Inquisition followed suit and, at the same time, they marched in the direction of the Herald, pledging their services to the man that went through everything to save them. Expressing their gratefulness and admiration towards him.

He was visibly dumbfounded with the display, mouth slightly agape, while eyeing each and every one of his followers.

The young warrior did not uttered a word, choosing to remain silent, that presentation was not meant to get one anyway.

Quickly afterwards Solas approached him, both left to a more secluded place, to address matters she could only speculate.

The atmosphere of the camp changed drastically with the display, the air felt a lot lighter now, Leliana turned to face the advisors, speaking. "We all know what we need now."

They all nodded, while watching the backs of John and the apostate disappear behind some trees.


The quartet of main members were trying to pinpoint their location on the map, when he returned from his talk with the mage, a little to cheerful, considering the situation.

"I know where to go." He said, curtly, while beaming. "We must make preparations to leave at dawn!" The Free Marcher complemented, soon after he began leaving the tent, until the Orlesian bard stopped him.

"Wait, you must at least tell us where to, or you expected that we would march hundreds of tired and wounded just like that?" She asked, incredulously.

"North, we go north." It was his sole answer, which earned a snort.

"We will need more than that." The spymaster retorted, while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, I don't have much information to spare, but Solas gave me a tip, perhaps-" She did not allowed him to continue.

"So we now follow apostate's whims?" She questioned, beginning to feel anger.

The bard was proud of her behavior. She could not accept such foolish suggestion without any actual proof backing it.

Her inquiry clearly took the young man of guard, although she knew him well enough to assume he already had considered the consequences of that action, the nightingale wanted more. She told herself besides his unconscious body that she would be more true to her position.

He sighed, looking down for a moment, and then turning his eyes to hers.

Leliana saw conviction burning inside them. "We need to go to safety. This discussion will not matter, if Corypheus find us. While I would gladly be buried under a mountain again for the Inquisition, I would rather prefer that we move. I trust Solas enough to believe in his words, or at least give it a shot." Trevelyan spoke, bearing a serious expression.

The rest of the group remained quiet, fearing to interrupt such a serious debate.

She was not satisfied with his speech, but they did not had any actual choice, so she nodded, accepting his idea.

"I will guide you." He stated, smiling.

They all agreed with their next step, leaving to begin preparations for the imminent departure.


In the next morning, they left, marching to the north. For the whole day, they walked, but no one complained. The spymaster was sure of the reason to it, they would follow their Herald anywhere now.

They stopped to rest for the night, resuming their peregrination through the mighty Frostbacks at the first lights of the day.

Most of the afternoon had already passed, when she saw John and Solas over a high ledge, the sun shone behind them, making both look like a silhouette, the warrior was evidently happy, placing a friendly hand on the elven mage's shoulder.

However, she was not able to spot the reason of his joy. They were still far ahead. The bard quickened her pace, curious to see what he was seeing. Soon she was closely behind him.

He apparently was waiting for her, offering his hand as a support for the last few steps. She did not took it.

The Orlesian was finally next to him, and began looking in the direction he had, the sun made it hard at the beginning, so she raised her left hand, trying to block it. She took one involuntary step ahead, and suddenly the blinding sunlight was gone, blocked by something.

Her eyes widened when she spotted it, a massive fortress was the responsible for the lack of light, standing defiantly amidst high peaks and a frozen river.

"Welcome to Skyhold." The noble whispered to her ear, startling her a bit, usually she would complain about it, but the master of secrets was out of words.

He chuckled with her lack of reaction, and went ahead towards the castle, leading the way.

She remained behind, after a short while the rest of the congregation passed through her. Each one reacted differently to the sight, some cheered, some cried, but all were glad for the prospect of shelter and security.

Finally the rest of the advisors arrived by her side, their reception was definitely amusing.

Cullen gasped loudly, before saying. "Maker's breath."

Josephine covered her mouth with both hands to contain a squeal.

Cassandra reacted pretty much like the commander, but instead of a catchphrase, she said, delighted. "He actually did it." Her tone full of admiration.

"Come, we have preparations to make." Leliana said, while following the crowd.

They shared a final understanding glance and went to their new stronghold.

The Inquisition was already beginning the slow process of settling in their new fortress. Things moved slowly, but people arrived on a daily basis. Still, the focus was to save and aid the wounded from the attack at Haven, many remained on critical situation and the march on the mountains only made things worse, unfortunately several died during the journey.

With everything considered, things were heading in the right direction.

"Everything is set. We can do it anytime now." Pentaghast spoke to them, just as John caught their attention. He was helping, together with Iron Bull, to carry a couple of supplies boxes on the orders of the recently appointed quartermaster Eustace Morris. The new agent was, perhaps, not the best option for the job, but they could not be too picky at that time.

Trevelyan saw them, and Cassandra motioned for him to come to their location. He was wearing some Orlesian clothes that the ambassador arranged.

His new regalia was interesting, to say the least, and apparently bothered him greatly, making the man walk clumsy to them.

The spymaster noticed his annoyed mumbling, with her skills she was able to discern a couple of words he uttered, for her great delight.

"Why so tight, and this ridiculous amount of buttons, is this a pajama?" It was the last of his complaint, while he pulled and repositioned his trousers, already with the group.

The commander released a chuckle, avoiding eye contact with the frustrated man and scratching the back of his head, the close-fitting garments bothering him slightly.

Josie on the other hand was actually enjoying the sight, and how the clothing shaped the Herald's well toned body perfectly, his muscular chest, broad shoulders, big arms, defined abdomen and especially his luscious and firm bu-.

Leliana shook her head, trying to get rid of those inappropriate thoughts, preferring to maintain her eyes fixed on a working soldier behind him and praying no one saw her blush.

"I see you are appreciating your new attire." The ambassador spoke exactly what was on the nightingale's mind, but wasn't voiced. She was avoiding any witty remarks.

The rest of the group laughed, while the young man sighed, defeated.

"I already put Harritt to work on my new armor. Still, it won't be ready for a while." He spoke, playing with one of the buttons sadly.

Cassandra pretended a cough, returning their attention to more urgent matters.

One by one, they left the seeker to talk with him. The bard went for an extremely important object, meant only for a worthy person.

She found it locked in one of the crates that her agents just placed on the main hall. The key to it attached to her necklace, hidden under her mail.

Opening the crate revealed the object, an impeccable sword, perfectly sharpened, the golden dragon on its grip shone with the lights that entered the environment through the stained glass, almost as if it was alive. A true masterpiece, crafted by the best smith of all Thedas, under the direct request of the Divine. The redhead grabbed it gently, with both hands

"Time to give it to the right man." She said to herself, heading back outside to wait on the steps of the staircase that led to the central building, as agreed with the rest of the advisors.

As soon as she arrived at her destination, Cass appeared, followed by Trevelyan, his confused expression worsening when he saw the spymaster holding a sword and the Nevarran spoke her last words.

"The Inquisition requires a leader: The one who has already been leading it." She paused, while the young man began looking at the crowd that gathered on the courtyard and was now eyeing him. Realization hitting him hard on the face.

"You." Pentaghast finished and his mouth fell open, eyes widening. Leliana maintained her gaze fixed on him. Nevertheless, she was still able to see the approving smiles on everyone amidst the conglomeration.

He hesitated for a few instants, before stating. "It- It is unanimous? You all have that much confidence in me?" The Free Marcher asked, stuttering a little.

"All of this people have their lives thanks to you, they will follow." The seeker answered, taking a step behind as to allow him to pick up the weapon.

"This was not my question." He retorted, keeping his focus on it, bearing a skeptical tone.

"I will not lie. Handing this power to anyone is troubling, but I have to believe this is meant to be." Cassandra explained, while the nobleman took a couple of steps towards the sword, extending his right hand in the direction of it.

"There would be no Inquisition without you. How it will serve, how you will lead. That must be yours to decide." She continued, and immediately after those words left her mouth, he froze. His hand began trembling, right on top of the grip of the blade, his fingers grazing it, eyes fixed on the weapon.

The Orlesian noticed his distraught expression, deciding to interfere before the Herald had a mental breakdown. She took a step ahead, ending the distance between the sword and his hand. Their eyes immediately connected and she flashed a true and assuring smile, meant only for the concerned man.

He returned it, albeit not truly comfortable with the situation, grabbing the masterpiece and examining it closely.

"Corypheus intends to be a god, to rule over us all." The young man declared, turning to the crowd.

"He must be stopped." He finished.

Then, both hands of the Divine began facing the congregation, together with him.

"Have our people been told?" The right hand inquired loudly.

"They have, and soon the world!" Josephine shouted to answer it from the middle of the courtyard.

"Commander, will they follow?" She cried out another question.

Cullen, who was immediately on the base of the staircase, faced the crowd there gathered, pacing back and forth in front of them.

"Inquisition, will you follow?" He asked, his tone demanding a straightaway answer.

"Yeah!" Everyone roared the response, which echoed through the mountains.

"Will you fight? Will we triumph?" Rutherford questioned, quickening his pace.

Another roar resounded on the stone walls.

"Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!" He cried out, drawing his sword and pointing it in John's direction.

Now the cheers and shouts were almost deafening, a new flame burned intensively amidst the Frostbacks and the ruthless master of secrets could not hold back a warm smile to appear on her face.


Trevelyan led them through the main hall. It was in shambles. There was a couple of holes in the ceiling, broken wood boards were scattered on the ground and at least a palm of dust had settled.

'We have a lot to do here.' Leliana thought, while examining the place.

"So this is where it begins." Cullen stated, eyeing everything around him.

"It began at the courtyard. This is where we turn that promise into action." She complemented, now focusing on the throne on the end of the building. However, it also drew the new Inquisitor's attention. He was a few steps in front of the trio of advisors, his back facing them, but she was still able to see his tense posture.

"But what do we do? We know nothing about this Corypheus, except that he wanted your mark." Josephine spoke.

John looked at his marked hand, before turning to them.

It took a few words from each one for they realize that there was a lack of information on Corypheus, at least they knew that whatever he planned, involved the assassination of the Empress Celene and an army of demons.

The Free Marcher decided to focus on rebuilding Skyhold and tending to the wounded in the meantime, while the Inquisition's network was restored and so, would be able to find more information.

Everything was going smoothly, until someone brought the topic of Haven, which clearly distressed him.

He decided to take a seat on the throne, placing his left hand on his forehead, as if frustrated, and taking long intakes of air.

They all eyed him waiting for an answer, but something else attracted her eyes, the warrior's right hand, that rested between his legs shook rather violently.

He noticed her eyes on it, because he immediately grabbed it with his other one, trying to hide it.

"Let us direct some forces there commander, they could search the wreckage and perhaps build a memorial to the ones we lost." The Herald said, looking at Cullen keenly.

The former Templar nodded.

"We could also request Marquis DuRellion to aid us, I'm sure he will welcome the idea, after all, those lands belonged to him." The ambassador added, earning a nod from Rutherford.

"We will see to that Inquisitor, when everything is set I will send you a report." He said, turning to leave together with the chief diplomat.

That left both of them alone.

Perhaps it was what he wanted, but she would never know. The bard left without a word, while the warrior eyed her quizzically.

She was determined to give him the cold shoulder whenever possible. It would be for the best.


It was already deep into the night. Leliana was finishing writing some letters on the rookery, her new office.

After the last one, she picked up a glass of wine and went to the balcony through a door next to her table.

'It is colder here than at Haven.' She wondered when the night air greeted her face.

The moon shone between two high peaks next to the fortress, the frozen river reflecting it, the Orlesian saw the encampment that established on the river's banks, campfires lightning it up. It was an inspiring sight.

Suddenly, she perceived some movement near a breach on the northern battlement. A cloaked figure bearing a sword was leaving through it.

'A thief!' She speculated, leaning on the balcony, trying to see who it could be.

The spymaster was about to shout a warning to the patrols when she noticed a faint green glow from the man's left hand.

'The Herald.' She concluded, in disbelief, surprised with the idea of him actually abandoning them.

The redhead then rushed towards him, ready to chastise the warrior.

When she arrived at the hole on the wall, he was already descending the mountainside, using a sharp path down.

She followed him, stealthily, not wanting to draw his attention. The master of secrets would wait for a more proper location to make a scene.

They walked for at least an hour, before he stopped in the middle of a clearing, dense woods surrounding him. Skyhold could still be seen from the distance, on the top of a peak, but they were considerably far out from it.

The left Hand of the Divine remained hidden behind one tree, eyeing him intently and wondering if he heard her movement.

She was released from her trance of thoughts when Trevelyan dropped his cloak, showing his bare torso. He only wore the crimson leg plates from his armor, what remained of it at least.

The bard took in a view she never saw before, she noticed the healing wounds he earned at the attack on Haven, but what really surprised her was a much older injury.

A huge and broad scar on his back, beginning between his shoulder blades and making its way down diagonally to his waist.

She saw the gash stretch when he started swinging the sword through the air, testing its balance and walking towards a middle height stump on the center of the clearing.

Then, John commenced delivering skillful blows to it.

'Training, why now and here?' She reflected, confused, nevertheless grateful that he was not abandoning the Inquisition.

For a while, he kept hitting hard his target, each blow stronger than the one before. That's it until the stump toppled with one of them.

Suddenly he entered a frenzy state, swinging at anything in his reach, tree, stone, and ground. His movements that once were graceful were now reckless and heavy, filled with rage and frustration.

She squeezed the trunk of the tree she was leaning on, worried with the troubled warrior.

He kept that state for a couple of instants, before the blade finally broke with a vigorous blow to a stone besides him, sharp fragments flying everywhere.

The Free marcher snapped, throwing the broken sword's grip aside and falling to his knees violently, running desolated hands through his hair. The bard wondered if he was crying.

Then, without warning, he spoke. "Enjoying the view?" His hands that now hid his face muffled his voice.

"No more use hiding." She answered, coming out from her cover and walking to him. The redhead stopped some feet behind.

Silence settled between then, before he spoke once more. "I'm not the right person." Never facing her.

She flashed a sad smile, understanding what was bothering him.

"I found purpose with the Inquisition, I gave my all for it, and it was not enough. It did not saved those who died at Haven. It only brought Corypheus' rage upon us." He resumed his explanation, slumping even further his shoulders.

The bard decided to listen for the time being, so she did not uttered a word.

"All those people dying, and I couldn't do a thing for them, I can still hear their scream you know. Now you appoint me the leader of this, why? Why me? I am just a man, afraid to do things wrong. I will probably lead the Inquisition to its doom, I'm not the Herald, I'm not the right person." The young man finished, looking at the ground.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, you saved us all." She started, taking a few steps to cover the distance that remained between them. As soon as she was beside him, she saw small trickles of blood at his forearms, his hands also trembling intensively.

The bard then pulled of her hood, revealing her short and red hair. She ripped the tissue apart and separated the cloth from the mail, while crouching in front of him.

"You are probably one of the best man I've ever met." Leliana continued, removing her gloves and placing them by her side, next she began extracting, carefully, the shards of the sword that pierced his bare arms. His hand instantly stopped their involuntary shaking.

"I've seen more than enough, with my own eyes and with the reports from each place you've gone. It is always the same: 'The Herald saved us, he is amazing.' Still, you are a lot more than that. You are a kind man that tries to look after everyone. Someone that places everything else ahead of himself." She said, sparing a glance to his face, and her heart almost broke, the bard was greeted with watery eyes, however it was only a vestige of his previous sadness, because right now he was actually completely amazed.

"Your actions led us here, we would be nothing without you. Trust me, you were already at the head of this for a time now. This is just a formality." She added, not able to keep her cold facade with him.

After a few moments, the spymaster concluded removing the shards and started wrapping the wounds with the cotton from her hood, John winced a little, but that never stopped him from keeping his eyes fixed on her.

"There is nowhere else I'd rather be, no one else I'd rather follow." She finished both her speech and the dressing, yet her hand lingered over his arms. The Orlesian then lifted her head so she could stare at him.

They kept their eyes locked for a long while, a mere foot from each other, before he lowered his gaze and leaned forward, placing his forehead on her shoulder. She felt his body relax as soon as John touched her.

"Thank you, Leliana." He murmured, eyes closed, it was the first time he ever called her by name.


A/N: Three straight chapters with Leliana's POV! That was not my intention when I began writing this fiction, but it can't be helped, I'm in love with the redhead.

*Inquisitor Greatly Approves.*

*Iron Bull Greatly Approves.*

Anyway, on the next one we will return to John. So, the updates are getting slower, I believe is because I'm actually writting bigger chapters, but things are also getting crazy here. Still, I am really enjoying writing this, so as long as I'm able I will keep writing and now that they are at skyhold I'm having so many ideas! I would like to have an opinion, readers, D.A.I. also lacked any further background on the Inquisitor, I'm thinking about giving one at this fiction. So, would it be best if I incert an OC, just to give some explanations, or have a extensive talk between John and a companion? I'm new at this, so your opinion is greatly appreciated, send a PM or anything if you prefer. Thanks for everything! You guys are great!