A/N: I hadn't really expected it to take me until the first week back at university for 2020 to actually update this story, but life happened and this chapter just didn't really want to come out. I hope that everyone had a fantastic New Year and that so far 2020 has been kind to you.

Updates won't be as frequent as I wish I was able to, but I feel like with work giving me more shifts and classes being back my free time is a lot smaller than it was last year. Regardless, I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!


In the Past, Elvhen Ruins, Somewhere in the Brecilian Forest, 9:31 Dragon

The conversation we had with the Grand Oak went much like I expected it would, as did meeting the Hermit. He was less mad and far more cunning than what the game had ever showed. The acorn was easily traded for, after a promise was extracted that would make the Grand Oak

The pain was almost unbearable, blood pouring from the open wound now on my face. My sight was gradually going black, fading as quickly as the wound had occurred.

The mad sylvan in front of us, one who had argued against us helping the Grand Oak get their acorn back, had slashed downwards cutting into the right side of my face.

The sylvan cackled, mad laughter echoing off of the trees even as the others went to attack the possessed tree. I could barely see anything, the right side of my face being obscured with blood and I couldn't be sure if I was going to lose my sight as well.

I was completely useless; I wouldn't be able to help anyone let alone help stop the blight or Solas from destroying this world to bring one of his youth back.

"Breathe Thorn, breathe."

Kana's voice was steadying, even with everything around me starting to black out. I could feel leather gloves hands gripping my shoulders, lowering me down to the ground.

"Morrigan! Is there anything that you can do?"

Alistair's voice was far off, shouting at the other mage for help.

"I don't care if it's scars, save my eye. Please, save my eye!"

I was blubbering as I lost consciousness, hitting the ground even as I felt arms around me.


All was quiet as Morrigan worked her magic, healing what she was able to and trying to save Mallorn's right eye. Alistair was standing further away, keeping watch just in case another attack was to happen whilst Kana stood close by.

None of them were able to actually say what had happened, only that it had happened very quickly and without much warning. The sylvan had come out of nowhere and now their friend could quite possibly lose her sight.

Morrigan stood, hands covered in blood. "I have done all I can. Her sight may be restored, but the scar it will stay forever."

Zevran, who still held Mallorn in his arms, was almost gentle as he cradled her much taller frame. He had a look of confusion on his face, as he stared down at her, clearly unsure as to what he was actually feeling in that very moment.

"I don't think she'll much care about the scar, Morrigan."

Kana had brought a cloth over to her friend, handing it to her so that she could wipe them clean. The amount of blood was almost scary; Kana hadn't realised that head wounds could bleed that much.

There was an uncharacteristic look of worry on the witches face, "I only hope that I have done enough."


Present Time, War Council Chambers, Taraslyn Te'las (Skyhold), 9:41 Dragon

Two pairs of people had really thrown the majority of the council for a loop.

Tanarel and Mih'anril, Maddox and Samson.

The first two shouldn't have existed in the eyes of the majority there, the time of the Elvhenan long since past. Two mages whose power had come from a time when the Waking and Dreaming worlds were One. The second two were slightly more difficult, one was a former lyrium addict and the other a tranquil who had some how broken free from those chains. Both were from Kirkwall which said enough in itself.

The room felt like it was devoid of air, everyone looking around but avoiding any eye contact with each other; you could cut the tension with an axe.

"Should we address the elephant in the room?"

Did Thedas even have elephants? I didn't think that it did, but I hadn't travelled everywhere so I wasn't sure.

"What is an elephant?"

Callon's own voice cut through the rest of the silence.

"Large, grey skinned, hunted for the ivory of their tusks. Gentle, protective, towering. Pack, revered. Never forget. Never forget."

The ever present spirit of Compassion spoke up, causing several people to jump as they had not noticed him standing there.

"Thank you, Cole."

My reply was quiet, but he heard as he smiled as the room burst into chatter which eventually grew louder and louder until all the elves in the room needed to cover their ears. Since the room had seven elves, the number of people covering their ears was quite high.

"QUIET!"

You could always count on Cassandra for silencing a room, her presence intimidating even when she wasn't glaring at you. Which in my case didn't last long, as she turned her glare onto me.

"What do we do next?"

"I'm sorry?"

Her question threw me.

"You are the one who sees the future, what do we do next?"

I saw red for a moment, blistering and hot.

"Excuse me?"

Feynren and Leliana winced at my tone, catching many of the others off guard. Cassandra, hadn't caught the warning in my voice and went to speak before she was interrupted.

"Seeker, you may want to think about what you're going to say next."

Varric, ever the voice of reason, managed to get Cassandra to take notice of the room and how tense everyone was.

"But surely you can see what happens next!"

"I cannot choose what people decide to do, nor can I see the future on command." My tone was still pointed, but it wasn't as sharp as before. Even if I were to be able to properly see into the future, nothing good ever came of telling someone their fate; self fulfilling prophecies would always win.

"I can see what people may have done but they will always surprise you by doing to complete opposite."

"I…understood."

Cassandra looked as though she was a small child who had just been caught with their hand in the biscuit tin. Annoyed at being caught, and embarrassed at the same time.


Connor couldn't be sure as to why he was invited into the War Council meeting. The room was filled with those with well known names, those with power or those who were seemingly trusted amongst the upper echelons of the Inquisition and he couldn't be sure as to why he was there.

Madame de Fer would occasionally look in his direction with disdain, but the bald elvhen mage seemed to look at him with curiosity. Connor was wary of the spirit, though he knew that Compassion was generally kind and gentle, he had never had much luck with denizens of the Fade.

The other two elves that were much like Mallorn and Solas were looking around the room with a look of disdain, or at least the man was. Connor got the impression that he didn't much like anyone who wasn't an elf or even if you were.

"Why have you invited us into this meeting, Tuile?"

His voice was filled with the pomposity that Connor had come it'll expect from the nobles of his youth who visited from Orlais.

"I was just wondering why you were protecting Tarasyl'an Te'las?"

The male elf scoffed, "I wasn't protecting it."

Mallorn smirked, clearly happy to be getting one over the other.

"So it was not your magic that I felt?"

"Tch."

"Tanarel, she's not stupid." The female elf turned to the room at large, "We felt something return to the world, something that we haven't seen since before the Evanuris broke war and left the world."

"Something?"

Leliana spoke up, her face blank but her voice curious.

"Magic that felt familiar." Tanarel answered, "We knew that Tuile would be in the thick of things."

His sister snorted, "You know that you were much the same in your youth Tanarel; it's probably why you two clash so much."

Tanarel continued as though his sister hadn't spoken, not acknowledging the statement she had made.

"And you haven't changed, Mih'anril. Following another of the people into a mess bigger than what any single one of us can comprehend."

Tanarel turned and looked out the dilapidated window, his frown deepening.

Connor couldn't help but wonder if the man ever smiled.

"And that's what got us all into this mess in the first place."

Connor couldn't help but wonder who they were talking about. His cousin-in-law, Kana, had spoken but once of the Dread Wolf in front of him and it had been something of a quiet debate amongst the elves within the circle before they spotted him or another human and shut their mouths.

"What got us into this mess was the Chantry and it's continuous need to be in control of everything and everyone."

Samson spoke up from his place in the corner of the room, the Tranquil-But-Not at his side nodded. Those who supported the chantry puffed up like chickens, all except for the Sister Nightingale who had covered her face with her hand. Everyone else looked as though they agreed, but weren't particularly interested in voicing that opinion.

"Samson, not now."

The Tranquil-But-Not, Maddox put his arm on Samson's shoulder who turned to him and sighed. Maddox turned to the room at large, most looking over his shoulder in an attempt to not look him directly in the eye.

"What needs to be done is to settle the people we have in Skyhold, to heal the wounded. Then we can worry about what needs to be done about everything else."

Mallorn spoke up, her voice quieter than before.

"I agree."

Sister Nightingale nodded her head, "The refugees and injured shall come first."

Everyone seemed to be in agreement before Cassandra slammed her hands onto the War Table causing the small figures to fall over and for Connor, Feynren, Callon and Kaiden to jump in surprise.

"You are Tranquil, are you not?"

Maddox nodded, "I was, but I am not any longer."

"How?"

That was the question that everyone seemed to want to know.

"A Spirit Healer helped, they had somehow found a cure for the Rite of Tranquility and I volunteered."

The Commander bristled in anger. He knew exactly who that Spirit Healer was, as did everyone who had been to Kirkwall at some point in the last ten years.

"Anders?"

(Varric at this point had backed away towards the wall, trying to sink into the shadows so that he wouldn't be seen by everyone else in the room. His friendship with the man was well known, The Tale of the Champion really didn't help.)

"Consorting with criminals, now?"

The Commander sounded almost bitter, but Connor couldn't help but wonder what about.

Samson gave a dry laugh, "He was already a criminal according to the Chantry, even when he was healing the masses in Dark Town."

Connor could see this conversation heading in the worst possible direction, so he was glad when the Sister Nightingale coughed into her first and looked the two former Templars in the eye. Whatever look was in her eye must have scared the two men enough for the two to back down.

Connor couldn't wait for this meeting to be over.

He still had no idea why he was there.


In the Past, Elvhen Ruins, Somewhere in the Brecilian Forest, 9:31 Dragon

Zevran still held onto the much taller woman in his arms as the others set up camp for the evening, clearly not being able to go any further with the way that their companion and friend was injured as she was.

He felt useless, any of his skills beyond the basics of using an injury kit were of no use here. Morrigan had done her best, but Mallorn still had yet to wake. He hoped that she woke soon.

They all did.

"Is there anything more that you are able to do for her?"

Morrigan looked up from where she was lighting the camp fire and shook her head.

"Unfortunately not, she will wake soon though."

Zevran looked down at Mallorn, wondering if that could be true. He wasn't sure why he was so affected by what had happened; he found her incredibly attractive and still would, regardless of the scar that would now be her distinguishing feature.

He found her almost inability to actually speak around him kind of hilarious, even though he would prefer it if he was able to actually have a proper conversation with her without her either stuttering or going into a panic over it.

He liked her, even before she had given him a pair of beautifully crafted Dalish gloves that reminded him of his mother. He had been eyeing them off whilst in the Dalish Camp, but he hadn't noticed Mallorn watching him.

It was incredibly thoughtful of her.

So lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed Kana walking up behind him. When she spoke, he flinched, arms tightening around Mallorn.

"She's a fighter, Zev. Thorn will be fine."

Kana's words of comfort didn't stop the fear from leaking into her own voice as she sat down beside him. She seemed to have a history with sylvans if one of her earlier reactions was anything to go by; a loud scream and a war cry as she descended on the one that had injured her friend.

"She joined us in Lothering, as did Leliana and Sten. Apparently she wasn't going to at first, too busy trying to convince as many people to leave Lothering and head for the Free Marches but her siblings came up to us and started to tell us her story."

"Her story?"

Kana nodded, "She was living with humans, despite the amount of everything Elvhen she seems to know. One of the women who called her sisters told us that if she hadn't have left when she did there was a group of Templars who were ready to do some rather unsavoury things to her before taking her to a Circle."

An unexpected surge of rage overtook Zevran, who could very easily picture what a group of heavily armoured humans would be able to do to a single elf no matter how strong they were.

"Carver was fairly insistent that she leave with us, said that she'd be able to help us. And help us she has."

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, listening to nothing but the crackling of the fire and the wind through the trees. It would have gone on for far longer had Mallorn not suddenly shifted, groaning as she did so.

Zevran looked down, golden eyes meeting with a single raging storm (as the other had been covered with bandages).

"What have I missed?"


I woke up, pain still shooting up my face but at least I was able to mostly see. The bandage covering my face was itchy and sticky with elfroot but I would have to put up with it if I wanted to be at least more healed than I would have been. And if I wanted to keep the sight in that eye.

It was going to take some time to get used to, especially the abrupt change in appearance. I already thought little of it, but now any self esteem I had once was definitely gone.

I still had yet to be moved from where I lay across Zevran's lap; I wasn't in any hurry to move and Zevran didn't seem to be either as I could feel his fingers threading through my hair, braiding and plaiting as he did.

"How long will I have to wear this bandage for? I don't know how well I'll go in a fight if my depth perception is shot to shit."

Morrigan gave me a long hard stare, and I couldn't help but wonder if that's what it felt to be on the other end of one of Flemeth's soul searching stares. After a few moments she sighed, clearly annoyed by the fact that I wanted to get out and help people as soon as I possibly could.

"Perhaps a few days, once the elfroot has taken hold and the healing magic sets in."

Kana spoke up from her spot near the fire. "I really hate to say this, but it might be best if you and Zevran head back towards Zathrian's camp."

Panic went through me; I was being sent away. And all because I was stupid enough to get myself caught by a possessed tree. Zevran hummed, seemingly in agreement with Kana.

It must have shown on my face because she hurried to comfort me.

"It wasn't your fault! It just happened to be poor timing and I really don't want you to any more injured than what you are if things go wrong, especially now."

She bent down and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder, "And if something should happen to us, you'll need to continue what we've started."

So she wasn't sending me away, but still it certainly felt that way.

"Follow back along the path, the clan will definitely have a healer that will be able to look at that wound."

As much as I wished to dispute this, she really did have a point. I wasn't technically being sent away, but due to my injury I would be more of a liability.

I didn't want to be a liability, but if I couldn't help, couldn't fight, what use would I be in this world?

"Food is ready!"

The sound of Alistair's voice broke me out of my self-imposed misery, whilst Kana helped me to my feet. The lack of vision in one eye knocked my centre of gravity off and I almost fell in Zevran but he steadied me with a smile.

"I've got you, mi querido."


After resting there for the night, we ended up packing early the morning after I had been wounded. The others wouldn't let me do much, too concerned over my injury, but I was stubborn and persisted and in the end I helped to take down the tents.

I was capable of undoing a few pegs, even only being able to see out of one eye. I felt a little like Jon Moxley to be honest; I only hoped that my eye would turn out that way to be honest.

"Are you sure that you won't need Zevran? I'm sure I'll be able to find my own way back to the Clan."

Kana shook her head, "I think everyone would feel a lot safer if you two stuck together."

Zevran turned to me, a sly grin on his face.

"Don't you want to spend some time with me?"

I felt my face flush, words refusing to come out of mouth.

Kana and Morrigan started to chuckle, whilst Alistair took pity on me by changing the subject.

"Do you have any advice, Mallorn?"

I tilted my head in confusion, wondering what he was talking about.

He continued, "You said the other night about that artefact you touched, something about choices and outcomes?"

Oh. That was what he was talking about. What could I say? Zevran looked confused. I had forgotten that he wasn't with us when I had first explained, or pretended to explain where I was from and how I got here.

"Try and broker peace, it'll be better for everyone involved in the long run."


Present Time, Taraslyn Te'las (Skyhold), 9:41 Dragon

Unsurprisingly we were getting nowhere, so the Council split for the evening, almost everyone leaving to find a room. The few of us that were left, too busy looking over the hastily put up map and the nearby scrolls of information that some of the scouts had been able to retrieve before Haven went under.

Tanarel and Mih'anril had disappeared earlier on in the meeting, off into the frozen trees behind the fortress. Mih'anril said that they would be back in the morning, but not to expect Tanarel to be in a better mood than what he was that day.

I had no idea what the Ancient Elvhen had against me, but his attitude grated on me since we had first met all those years ago in the Tirashan Forest.

The diary from the future wasn't far from my mind, so much information written and unexplored. I couldn't help but be terrified; what I had read made me cry. There was too much pressure to keep the world afloat and sewn together.

"Leli, I'm going to head off. Do some exploring, maybe get some sleep."

She nodded, almost absentmindedly, waving me off. She definitely wouldn't be getting any sleep that night; it was pretty much guaranteed that she'd be pulling an all-nighter.

"Naneth…"

Feyren was asleep on his feet, Connor not too far behind him. The young mage seemed to be out of place, unsure and unknowing of his position. From what Alistair had been able to tell me of his cousin, Connor had been fairly isolated during his time within the Circle, with many a mage resenting his high born status, that he wasn't put into the Aeonar when he left Redcliffe and the fact that, due to his cousin being the King of Fereldan, he was visited fairly regularly for a circle mage.

"Come here gilith."

Holding my arms out, Feynren slipped inside my grasp. I gently lifted him, careful not to let any of the sharp edges of my weapons or armour hit him.

"Would you like to come with us, Connor?"

He looked startled at being addressed.

"Ah…If you would not mind." He reached up to the back of his neck, rubbing it sheepishly. "I'm not exactly welcomeamongst those formerly of the Circle."

Feynren's sleepy voice chimed up, "Why not? You're a perfectly nice boy."

I really wanted to snort, but that would give Connor the wrong impression; Feynren wasn't going to stop his little flirtations apparently, even on the verge of passing out.

Connor's face went a light shade of pink at my son's words.

"My past still affects what most think of me, regardless of how much I have changed these past ten years."

"Well, people are stupid."

Feynren would probably get along incredibly well with Sera now that I thought of it. That thought was going to stay with me for a long while.

So many pranks, so much chaos those two could cause.

(In thinking these thoughts, I had no idea that I was going to be planting those seeds for Creativity to later find and explore with Feynren who would pass them onto Sera later.)


I didn't feel up to finding a room near the top of Skyhold, too many people around. Too many prying eyes, and I was never one for the spotlight. But exploring the depths, so to speak, of Taraslyn Tel'as was something that I was incredibly interested in.

It had been years since I had thought of the Vault Library, but I had always loved just going down there in the game. There was something about all of those books, all that knowledge that fascinated me. I always hated that you couldn't actually read all of the books and only a few of them were accessible via the Codex.

Being here in person changed that.

"I can take Feynren, if you'd like."

Connor had followed me, exploring as much as one could in the mostly candlelit dark; we had chatted about fairly inconsequential things but it was interesting to hear what he thought of Skyhold and the general situation that the world found itself in.

Feynren, however, was fast asleep. His snoring was loud enough that it bounced off of the stone walls. He wasn't particularly light, but I had carried him in far worse scenarios, so his weight didn't really bother me.

"Thank you, but I think I'll be fine for the moment."

Connor shrugged, "Let me know and I'll be more than happy to help carry him."

If only Feynren was awake to hear that comment, there would be steam coming out of his ears they would be so incredibly red.

We walked down towards the Vault Library in mostly silence, the only noise being the snores of my son. When we had reached the room I gently placed Feynren down into the very comfortable looking chair, before dispelling the layer of cobwebs that lay across the majority of the room.

Veilfire flickered, still lit from the previous occupants reading session and their book still open, text slightly obscured in the dim lighting.

"So many of these books are banned within the Circles!"

Connor sounded incredibly excited by the prospect of being able to look at and read books banned by Chantry law. I couldn't blame him, not in the least.

"There's certainly a fantastic collection here; I wonder who started it?"

I picked up a book resting atop the shelf, or at least I tried to. The book itself tilted, a creaking noise followed shortly behind and the entire shelf swung inwards to reveal a passageway with what seemed to be several rooms leading off of it.

Connor and I stared in shock, and I couldn't help but laugh at the secret rooms being concealed by a bookcase. I'd often dreamed of this and finally, it had actually happened.

"Well, at least I know where we'll be sleeping."


A/N: The Grand Oak is honestly one of my favourite characters from Origins, alongside the Mad Hermit. I think that their dynamic is fascinating and I really wish that there was more of them in the later games.

Sylvans are trees that are possessed by either a spirit or demon.

Also, I've always loved the idea of having a secret room behind a bookshelf and one day I'd love to have one…