A/N: So here's the last of what I wrote a couple weeks ago. I wrote so much so fast that poor Raven Sinead has had a terrible time keeping up with me. She got two chapters to me, and then two more a week later, after being sick and some other stuff. So I just want to say that she's a goddess and you should all be reading her fic, Sick World That Damns Its Saviors. That is all.

And now, we go back from our tangent of Solona/Leliana and Josie/Cauthrien and pick back up with Zanneth and Cassandra!

Zanneth watched for the others to enter the makeshift war room. She wondered what the room had been before. She was unfamiliar with Chantries in general. What rooms did they normally bear? And didn't this building have some other past? She remembered someone mentioning that those who had been found here during the Blight were disturbed in some way.

Cassandra was already inside with her, studying the map of Orlais and Ferelden laid out over the giant table. It had markers spread all over it, denoting what, Zanneth couldn't say.

Zanneth studied the Seeker a moment. It wasn't so painful. It wasn't so difficult to see her face and see it healthy, vibrant, and not gaunt and angular. Telling all about what she had seen seemed to have taken the power away from the images. She was nearly as comfortable with Cassandra as she had been before. The only discomfort was a vague stuttering of her heart when the Seeker looked at her, and it was not necessarily an unpleasant sensation. Those light brown eyes… the memory of looking into them while love was confessed… the power had not left that memory at all.

Just entering the room were Josephine, Ser Cauthrien, Leliana, and Solona. All four women seemed much more relaxed than Zanneth had ever seen them. Leliana even smiled. Cassandra had mentioned that the spymaster's and Solona's reunion had gone well. The elf had had no idea what the Seeker's hidden meaning had been, but clearly the warrior was right, given the relaxed, smiling women in front of her.

When did the idea of being surrounded by so many shem stop making me uncomfortable?

"Ah, good." Cassandra was looking up from the table now. "Now all we need is Revka."

"She's vomiting outside," Solona said, eyes flicking to Zanneth. "Poor girl is still experiencing some morning nausea."

Zanneth's heart panged. She had seen Revka the day before, had watched Solona and her sister smile and revel in the younger woman's pregnancy. It had sent all the haunting emotions back to the elf from the night of her miscarriage. She had wondered what her own belly would look like by now. She had wondered what it would feel like, to be pregnant. She had wondered if all the things she had been through since – closing rifts, slaying a dragon, traveling through time – would have meant death for her child. Perhaps she was doomed to miscarry, no matter when it happened? If not from Threnn's beating, then from being thrown from the back of a dragon, or from traveling through time, or simply being hit by a demon?

They were unpleasant thoughts, and through all of it she could not help but to be relieved. Familiar feelings of being a monster resurfaced. She had looked to Cassandra, for whom her affection was becoming easier and more comfortable, and wondered what the Seeker truly felt about the elf that night, while she held Zanneth, while Zanneth cried, while she hurt, and while she spoke of herself so poisonously. They were uncomfortable thoughts. She had not wished to be suddenly steeped in these feelings. Cassandra's opinion of her especially had made Zanneth despair, despite her proof that the Seeker had obviously looked past it. She would not have declared her love in that dark future were she not able to look past Zanneth's darkness the night she miscarried.

Zanneth had asked to spar, despite having just come in off the road. It had worked. It took her mind off her thoughts, and she circled and lunged and parried with the far more skilled Seeker until she was too exhausted to care. Then she avoided Revka for the rest of the night.

Now, though, she was to be faced with the pregnant ambassador, feelings or no. She would simply have to manage. There was nothing for it. Revka was pregnant, and Zanneth was not. It was just how things were, and nothing she could do would change it.

"That is regrettable. Is there nothing you can do for it?" Cassandra asked now.

Solona shook her head. "Some people just puke a lot. There's plenty of folk tales regarding what this might mean, whether it's a boy or a girl, what temperament the child might have, but in my experience, it means nothing other than her body is being a cunt to her. It should settle soon. It always does when a woman starts to show."

"I see."

There was a pause before Solona turned to Zanneth. "What are you doing for your sick and injured?"

Zanneth blinked a moment, looking to Cassandra. "I… am unsure. When I have been injured, Solas has taken care of me. But he did not return with us."

"Are you not in charge of this operation?" Solona asked, brows knit. Her eyes flicked up to Cassandra, then Leliana. Her hands came up as she spoke, and she gestured in such a way that the elf suspected it must have some meaning. "You are leaderless?"

Zanneth could almost see Cassandra's hackles rise. "If you had not been away, we might have asked you to lead the Inquisition."

Solona let out a laugh. "I would not lead this operation were it outfitted with all the gold and naked women in the world! This is not my Inquisition, Cassandra. And stop lamenting that I was gone. I have had enough of it. I was on a mission from the Divine."

"Yes. Your mission," Cassandra sneered. "The one you have yet to tell us of. The one that got you captured. And the one that the Divine can no longer corroborate. Perhaps you had no mission? Perhaps you merely tired of Val Royeaux, of Leliana, of having any responsibility-"

"Enough!"

Everyone in the room turned blinking to Leliana, who had shouted them silent. The Left Hand stood now with a frown. "Cassandra, Solona has told me all there is to tell, and I believe her. She plans to share here, as well. Where does this venom come from?"

"Where is her sense of duty?" Cassandra's eyes fell on Solona once more. "You would not lead us if we had asked, if it was needed of you? You come in here and immediately ridicule how we run things? And where were you while the world went to shit? You are better than that, Solona! You are better than the playful façade you present the world! You are better than being captured by a puling Tevinter apprentice!"

Solona looked like she might strike Cassandra for her words, but a gloved hand snaking up to the mage's shoulder seemed to be enough to stay her hand.

"What are you truly angry about, Seeker?" Zanneth did not miss that Solona's question mirrored Leliana's.

"You could have saved the Divine! Everything could have turned out differently!"

"And you blame me for this?"

"I…" Cassandra deflated, scrubbing a hand over her face. "No. No, not truly."

"Right. I must have missed something truly spectacular," Revka said from the doorway. "What did I just walk in on?"

Zanneth's heart kicked at sight of her pregnant belly. She tore her eyes away.

"A pissing contest," Leliana said, moving from Solona's side to greet the arcane warrior's sister. "And I won."

That got a chuckle from everyone.

Solona turned to Zanneth. "I apologize, Your Worship. Cassandra and I clearly have some talking to do now that I am no longer recovering from my captivity." She paused, looking around. Her eyes landed on Josephine, then Cauthrien, where they narrowed. "Hello Lady Montilyet, Ser Cauthrien. I hear you," she addressed the knight, "are now second-in-command of the Inquisition's martial forces."

The knight nodded. "Aye, I am."

"Congratulations. It seems we are fated to work together no matter how far away from Denerim I get."

Cauthrien looked uncomfortable. Zanneth could not begin to guess why. But it was clear, even to her, that Solona did not much like the knight from Denerim.

"Enough." Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "I apologize for my outburst. Solona, we lead by council, as we are now. The Herald is not to blame for anything we may lack." She dropped her hand, fixing the arcane warrior with a glare. "Is your proximity to Ser Cauthrien going to be a problem?"

Solona shook her head, turning to look at the knight. "No, I suppose if you and Leliana can be friendly, then I can set my own feelings aside."

Zanneth was confused. Cauthrien did something to Solona? Or Leliana? I am in a room of people with so much history…

"I am willing to do all I can to show you I am no longer loyal to Loghain, Lady Amell," Cauthrien offered.

Solona snorted. "Stuff the 'Lady Amell,' and we can work together, Cauthrien."

The knight smirked. "Aye, I can do that."

Cassandra groaned. "Can we get on with this please?"

"Yes, yes. All right. You wish to know what my mission was, yes?" Solona strode forward to the table. "You will not like it, Cassandra."

"I would know what it was. Whether I approve matters not, as you have already completed it."

Solona nodded. "All right. The night Lord Seeker Lucius left the Chantry, the Divine ordered me to her council chamber…"

Cassandra remained silent through Solona's explanation and into Zanneth's of her experience in Redcliffe. If she spoke, she would explode. The Divine had kept this secret? She almost couldn't believe it. Justinia had ordered the destruction of all the phylacteries? What would they do when mages ran? When they became abominations and stormed through the countryside, causing all manner of damage? How could she order something like this?

The Divine loved all the members of her flock, Cassandra tried to reason with herself. You believed Solona and Leliana's tale from the Gauntlet. So did Justinia. So why does this anger you so?

Mages must have oversight! The risk is too high!

But you do agree that mages deserve a greater degree of freedom than most Circles awarded them. The freedom Justinia allowed in Orlais was more to your taste, anyway.

And look what they did with that freedom. They cried victim and held a vote for rebellion!

And Justinia allowed it. Are you wiser than she? Solona says she wished to save lives while peace was achieved. And you know she was right. Your brothers and sisters in the Seeker Order would have sought out those phylacteries, and hunted down every senior mage in Thedas. They do not deserve that. They voted for independence. Only tyrants slaughter rebels.

"I wish to look into the matter of this dark future you speak of." Leliana's voice broke through Cassandra's thoughts, and she realized that Zanneth had finished telling her tale. "The assassination of Empress Celene? A demon army?"

"Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do. If Orlais falls, Tevinter rises." Solona smirked. "Chaos all around!"

"One battle at a time," Cassandra finally said, pushing her internal argument aside. She could do nothing for it now. The phylacteries were destroyed, and whether or not the Seeker agreed with it, it had accomplished the Divine's wish – to save the lives of the mages. Mages who were currently headed to Haven to help close the Breach. She did not miss that if those mages had been hunted down, they would not now have the power they needed. "We must first close the Breach. It will take time to organize everyone when they arrive, but I would have those who are already here as ready as we can make them. I will leave the troops to you, Ser Cauthrien."

"Yes, ma'am," the knight answered, inclining her head.

"And arrange a meeting this evening for those former templars among their number," Cassandra said, knitting her brows. "I have information for all of you regarding how we will manage any mages who succumb to demons."

"Aye, ma'am."

"I will oversee the readiness of our noncombatants," Josephine said. "And we should look into securing an independent source of lyrium for our mages – and for those templars who count among our number." Cassandra did not miss how Josephine's eyes caught Revka's, nor the slight frown on the younger Amell sister's face.

Cullen. He must be in agony. He hides it well, but I have seen the redness around his eyes. He does not go without suffering. He merely buries himself in work. She took in Revka's slight belly, visible despite her dress. And his wife.

Even the thought made Cassandra's face feel hot. She could not help her eyes traveling to Zanneth's silhouette. What would it feel like to be buried in a woman? Cassandra's face flushed further. She ripped her eyes away, looking to Josephine.

"That is a good idea. But have we any idea how to do so in a timely manner?"

"I actually know someone," Solona mused. "A lyrium smuggler in Denerim."

"Why am I not surprised?" Cassandra said, shaking her head as she leaned upon the war table.

"I have friends far and wide, what can I say?" The mage brought her hands up to sign, so that Leliana might know what was said. "Natia Brosca, one of our companions during the Blight. She settled in Denerim, but she has a rather… unorthodox family to help support. With her Carta connections, it was easy enough for her to get into the business of black market lyrium smuggling. It will raise the ire of the Chantry, though…"

"We are all of us heretics in the eyes of the Chantry's leadership," Cassandra said, waving away Solona's concern. "Pitiful as that 'leadership' is. They wait for a new Divine. We do what must be done. Write your friend. An exclusive deal would be ideal. But do not let them charge us exorbitant prices, or we will find another source." She stopped, looking around. "Assuming we are all agreed?"

Assent was murmured all around.

"All right. If no one has anything else to discuss, then this meeting is adjourned. Ready yourselves and your people: we close the Breach as soon as is possible, after the rebel mages arrive."

Josephine, Leliana, Solona, and Revka all left together, chatting animatedly. Cauthrien followed more sedately, part of the group but also not. Her history with them was far more complicated. As Cassandra watched, Josephine hung back just slightly, reaching a hand out. Cauthrien took it.

They bedded each other last night. Possibly for the first time. The realization made the Seeker look immediately to Zanneth, who had stayed in the room with her. How is it I know this? When did I start watching my companions so closely?

The elf's eyes were glued to the map. "Where is Ostwick?" she asked out of nowhere.

Cassandra furrowed her brows, but pointed the city-state out on the map. "Why do you wish to know?"

Zanneth studied the map, her eyes flickering often between Ostwick and Haven. "It is closest to where I left my clan. They will be wintering there. I was due back by now."

Cassandra's heart sank into her stomach. "We never saw about getting a message to your Keeper…"

The elf shook her head. "A lot has happened. And beside that, I do not know how to write."

"How is it that your grandmother knows how to read, but you do not? Wouldn't she have taught you?"

Zanneth shook her head again. "I was not her First. Why teach a mere hunter to read the scrolls, or the missives sent between keepers? I was not slated to lead the clan, and never would, as I have no magic."

Cassandra supposed it made sense. What use for reading and writing would Zanneth have, out in the forest, hunting? "Perhaps we can tell her you are alive, at the very least?"

"What kind of message could be sent that would not seem as though I was your captive?" Dark brown eyes turned to her, but it was not an accusation. Zanneth truly did not know how a message could work.

Cassandra thought for a moment. It was a fair question. Zanneth's clan seemed friendlier toward humans than most, but it would be an understandable mistake to think Zanneth was some sort of captive of the Inquisition. The elf had been free to go, though they truly did need her to accomplish their goal. Nobody else could. It might indeed look like she was coerced to an outside eye.

Did we coerce her? We did not really give her the option of not helping; did not offer to get her home.

"Do you wish to go back to them, Zanneth? You still have family that is missing you."

Zanneth shook her head decisively. "I do not have a place among them. Not anymore. I would go back to hunting and caring not for your world." She held Cassandra's eyes for a moment. "I find I have a place here. If I returned there, I would be a widow. Pitied. Nobody pities me here. I have friends. Nobody sees my reticent nature and decides I need not be approached. If I returned… I think I would be desperately lonely."

There seemed to be something else the elf left unsaid, but Cassandra did not know what it might be. "Well," the Seeker said after a moment, "what if I wrote your words for you, and taught you to sign your name? Then your grandmother might have some degree of certainty that it actually comes from you. And even if she doesn't… I imagine it will be good for her to know you live."

Twenty minutes later, they sat together in Cassandra's cabin, where the Seeker had writing implements.

"I do not know how to write a letter," Zanneth confessed, pacing the room. "How do they normally start?"

Cassandra smiled, finding the elf's uncertainty, quite frankly, adorable. "You address the recipient. In this case, 'Dear Grandmother' should suffice… unless you regularly call her something else?"

Zanneth shook her head, continuing to pace.

"All right. 'Dear Grandmother,' it is. What would you like to tell her?"

The elf stopped, turning panic-stricken eyes upon the Seeker. "There is so much to say. I am alive, and serving the humans' Inquisition. Hyune and Sinna… and Relarian, her First. I do not…" Her eyes begged for help.

Cassandra held up a hand. "Let us start at the beginning, with the good news. Despite the explosion, you are alive and well. A good place to start, yes?"

Zanneth nodded vigorously. They continued on like this, Cassandra trying desperately to stay professional and detached as she listened to Zanneth speak to her grandmother through the Seeker's pen. It was so heart-warming to see the elf open up and begin to speak as she might to family. And it made Cassandra feel like a voyeur. But she had offered to write this, and if she didn't, no one else could. It spoke volumes that Zanneth could open up like this in front of Cassandra.

She likes you, Leliana's voice sounded in her head.

Cassandra didn't deign to respond to it, merely writing the last few words of the letter.

"There," she said, placing her pen upon the table and blowing air over the ink that had not yet dried. "My penmanship was never the talk of my tutors, but it is legible, and one of the better things I have written. Shall I read it to you?"

Again, the elf nodded, taking a seat on the edge of Cassandra's bed. Ignoring her inner – and inappropriate – voice, which told her to tackle the elf onto her back and have her way with her, the Seeker cleared her throat and began to read.

"Dear Grandmother,

It is your granddauther, Zanneth. I do not know what you have heard of the Conclave you sent me to observe, but something went terribly wrong. There is a tear through the Veil into the Beyond, the result of a massive explosion that killed many.

The good news is that I lived, though I do not know how. I have no memories of the explosion. The people in the village thought I was at fault at first, but I was quickly pardoned. I agreed to help them close the Breach, as the tear has come to be called. For, as the sole survivor, I bear a mark, some unknown magic that closes the rifts into the Beyond.

I regret to tell you that Hyune, Sinna, and Relarian did not survive. I am sorry, Grandmother. You have lost so much.

Despite this heartbreak, I do well. I have made friends. There are so many different kinds of people here. Among those I spend time with are other elves, dwarves, humans, and even a giant qunari warrior. The world is much bigger than I ever imagined. I have a place here. I never thought I would have a place outside the People.

I do miss the clan, however. I hope everyone does well, that the halla are healthy, and that the hunt is bountiful. Send your reply with the falcon that delivered this; it will know the way back to me.

With love,"

"This is where you will sign," Cassandra said at the end, showing Zanneth, who had wandered to her side. "I am unfamiliar with your name, but I can certainly spell it phonetically and teach it to you."

"Phonetically?" The elf looked perplexed.

Cassandra chuckled. "Of course you would not know that word. It has to do with spelling. It means that it looks how it sounds. I… cannot explain until you can read. But suffice it to say, your grandmother will at least know how to pronounce what I write, even if she spells your name differently."

Zanneth shrugged. "All right. I trust you know what you are doing. I certainly do not."

"Come, take this," Cassandra said, handing the quill to Zanneth. She then took the elf's hand, dipped the quill in the inkwell, and let the ink blot a spare piece of parchment. "You see? How hard you press and how long you leave it will determine how much ink is used." She then pointed to where she had written her interpretation of 'Zanneth.' "These are the letters you will mimic. Practice it here a few times, and then you can sign your letter. We will start the process of actually teaching you to read later."

Zanneth nodded. Cassandra's heart fluttered as she watched the elf's brow furrow with concentration, painstakingly copying the letters of her name.

It is hopeless, she thought to herself. I am much too far gone to ever be rid of these feelings. This little elf has utterly stolen my heart. I must tell her soon. There is no need to torture myself so.

"How is this?"

Cassandra blinked herself from her thoughts, looking upon Zanneth's work. It looked like a child's handwriting, but it was legible. "That is good," she said, smiling at Zanneth's pleased expression. "Practice a few more times, and then we can take this letter to Leliana to send for you."

Nodding, Zanneth got to work.