Breath hitched. Running. Twig snapping. Bow string drawn. Running. River flowing. They're above me. They're following me. Chasing. I run faster.
Lost. Dense trees. Branches scratch my arms. I find a river. The arrow misses me. Barely. I look back and I see the hunter in the tree. A warning shot. I ignore the chance for mercy. I leap over a fallen tree as I follow the river, snow cascading all around me. I know it is no use, this chase. There are too many of them. It is too late for me now.
"Fen'Harel ma halam." The hunter says as he pulls his string back for a fatal shot. The threat burns in my entire being. I am no longer afraid.
My left hand makes contact with the bark of an elm tree. I did not know how it happened, but it flowed through me in an instant. I keep running, and when I look back I am almost blinded by the bright orange colour that covers the landscape. Smoke travels through the air as the heat washes over me. I don't see the hunters now, but I cannot be certain that they have fallen prey to the flames.
I continue on.
It has been weeks since the chase now. I should have known better, getting too close to the conclave meant exposing myself to His spies. Spies who were still on the lookout for me. I admit that I am tired of running. I have kept to the shadows for years, but I am still in the same position that I was then, nothing will change my predicament. I realize now that He will never leave me be, so I look for protection.
This newly-famed Inquisition has piqued my interest. I have heard tales from all my wanderings and lately the only words to grace the shemlen's lips have been "The Herald". Not every word is good, but the people who condemn the organization are in denial of the real threat. Even I am aware that the breach in the sky must be closed. Ever since it's arrival I have heard nothing but strange occurrences that have been happening all over Thedas. The death of the Divine was only the beginning. Rifts have now opened up, allowing demons to roam the lands. And there have been whisperings ... whisperings about a cult named the Venatori, and something odd is happening with the Templars too, but I cannot be certain of what.
The vallaslin on my face gives away my nature, otherwise they would think I were a servant and continue on with their conversation, not realizing that us "knife-ears" can still sell a few secrets if we were bold enough. That was one way I made a living. I stand in the shadows for as long as I can, but it is of no use, I cannot gain any further information.
I do not stay in the town for long. I have learned only too well from experience that my presence grapples the shemlen's attention quickly and it becomes unsafe for me to stay. Too many prying eyes. Too many questions. I am best left alone. It is not often that a Dalish elf is seen in a community by herself. I gather more supplies and move on.
The Herald has become a sensation overnight. I saw with my very own eyes the distant breach in the sky close up, leaving behind a scar as a reminder of what could have been. I hear the loud gasps and cheers from a village nearby and I cannot help smiling to myself in spite of it all.
However, there is a deep feeling in the pit of my stomach that this is not quite over yet. The thought is unsettling, but I remind myself of the whispers. The breach was not put there randomly. Something started it all and whoever did is responsible for the death of all those people at the conclave. It is a mystery that is beginning to unfold, and I would like to be there when it does.
I set off for the north once again, for Haven. The incident that occurred a few weeks ago cannot happen again, because I know I will not be lucky a second time. He is much more cunning than I am, and for once my decision is affected by fear. I am aware that the journey is long and arduous. It will require a great deal of stealth and swiftness, however, and I must try to keep out of the forests as much as I can. I am fully aware of what can be lurking within, and who's eyes could be watching.
The next village I visit a few days later is when I hear of the news. Haven was taken.
"That's right! I don't know what has happened, but I heard they've up and moved."
"Who?" The other stranger asks.
The bearded man bangs his fist on the wooden table aggressively, causing his ale to spill onto the table. "The Inquisition, of course, you dolt! That merchant - Von Brarr, I think his name was - has gone up. He says "I won't wait around for the demons to take the village, I'm going to Skyhold." I dunno how he thinks that place'll be much better than here. I heard there was a dragon involved in the attack at Haven!"
The other man furrowed his brows and licked his lips. "But Rex, we all live in wooden houses! A dragon comes here and we all turn to ash!"
The bearded man clicked his tongue with annoyance and waved off his companion's concerns. I pulled my hood further over my head once I noticed that one of the men started looking around the tavern for the waitress. I'd rather not risk them realizing that I had been eavesdropping, the hood may make me look shady, but it is better than if they were to see my true face. The intel was good, however, as I had a new destination now. The only thing that worried me was finding it, as I had never heard of a place named Skyhold; either in a book or even a rumor.
I should have known not to worry.
Scattered all around the south were those travelling north. It was as if a migration were happening. People from all over the lands were offering their support for the Inquisition for various different reasons. There were some who genuinely wanted to help, others who saw only a business opportunity, and even a strange bloke who just wanted to gaze upon the Herald for himself. Knights, mages, herbalists, smiths. They were all offering their services. I suppose my reasoning for wanting to join was a bit more selfish. However, as I thought along the journey, I knew there was much I could offer. I was skilled with a bow and my daggers, I had read many books, I knew Dalish customs, and most of all, I knew secrets. I knew how to blend in with a crowd and how to gain information. It is harder, being Dalish, to accomplish such things, but I wasn't the typical Dalish Elf. For one, I no longer had a Clan to follow.
The closer I got to Skyhold, the more I began to feel insecure. Perhaps they would not take me in after all? They may already have too many visitors or perhaps they would believe that I was not suitable for any station. There were droves of people all going in the same direction. I held my cloak closer to my body as the chill crept up my spine while I traveled through the mountains. Yes, perhaps my chances of joining were slim indeed.
I heard stories as I remained in my state of solitude. My heart wept for some of the people who were merely seeking shelter after losing their homes. Others talked about their Templar friends who went missing. There was one lady from Redcliffe who stated that she no longer felt safe in the village after the Tevinter Magister kicked out the Arl, then she began to recount her memories of the tragedies that occurred, the worst being when the dead rose during the Blight so many years ago. A Knight standing a few feet away admitted that he was uncomfortable with training at Skyhold due to the alliance with the mages, but he could not leave his sister by herself, as she was determined to offer her services as a healer.
A lady turned to me then, hand in hand with her daughter. Her little girl was maybe seven years old? She had rounded cheeks with blue eyes that matched the color of the sky. Her blonde hair was very long and curly and she held a doll that was very tattered and worn, but treated with love and kindness. The girl had a kind of wandering curiosity about her that I admired. Sometimes I found myself wishing that I could see the world from their perspective, to be able to learn things for the very first time and view the world with complete and utter innocence. The girl did not see me as a lesser, as a "knife-ear", she saw me with no hint of animosity, just curiosity.
"What about you?" The mother asked. Her eyes were just as blue, and showed the same amount of kindness. They were wrinkled at the ends but not from old age, they were merely smile lines. "What brings you to Skyhold?"
I was startled at first. I had not expected to be noticed, but as the woman spoke to me, I saw other heads turn to look at me, not with disgust, but interest. I was not sure if I should feel as unnerved as I did, and in that moment I found myself speechless as I swallowed to find the right words. There were so many answers to her question, but some would be unwise to speak about in the crowded scene.
"I wish to help, in any way I can." I answered with simplicity as I pondered the honest but vague way I could proclaim my reason.
"But are you not Dalish? What about your Clan?" asked a different woman, she was elderly with short grey curled hair.
I expected the elderly lady to look at me with contempt, but when I looked upon her face I did not see a trace of that emotion there. It was strange to be treated with such fairness. Something which I had craved for all my life, but could never achieve. I began to feel ashamed for thinking so low of the people around me, and my heart gave them another chance.
I gaze upon the woman solemnly. "I no longer have a Clan to speak of. The services that I offer are mine alone. I hope it will be enough."
The elderly woman gave me a nod of approval and continued on the path in silence. In that moment I felt something that I had not felt in a very long time: respect. It came from an unlikely source, but I treasure the feeling as it starts a flame in my heart that shall not be quenched until my journey is seen through. I pushed down the hood of my cloak, allowing the people to look upon me and my pointed ears if they wished, as the thought no longer bothered me. The mother beside me squeezed the hand of her daughter more tightly as she gazed at the vallaslin on my face.
"I pray that you no longer have to be alone." She murmured to me. Her words shocked me, and when I looked at her daughter I saw nothing but the brightest smile that I had ever seen. The image burned into my mind the whole way through.
It was not long until I saw the fortress. My first sight of the building caught me off-guard. The castle was old and secluded, the battlements were strong, and the whole aura was ... ancient. I could see the fascination and fear with the newly founded Inquisition now as they seemed a proper organization brought together to defeat their purpose.
The line to the gates was long and cramped. People from all over Thedas were clamoring to enter. Not everyone was let in, it seemed, as some marched back with disgruntled looks on their faces. I could understand why, as the fortress was large, but not large enough to hold an entire frightened nation. Those seeking only refuge with nothing to give would have to find their peace with the Chantry, not an army.
The sun was high in the sky by the time I reached the gates to the fortress. There were a handful of guards speaking with every person to learn their reason for wanting to join the Inquisition. My case would be no different.
"Another elf for the kitchens I suppose? I'm sorry - we have too many of you already," said the guard who barely looked up from his clipboard to see me.
The anger I felt bristled through me quickly, but the breath I let out allowed the feeling to escape. I know when and where to control my emotions, even if it can sometimes be hard. I battle constantly with my feelings everyday. There have been times where I have allowed my heart to open too much, and the weakness of allowing my emotions to control me have only burdened my experiences. Cutting and beating out my feelings was something He had forced me to many years ago. If I couldn't feel, I couldn't be hurt. That particular lesson I never mastered, and I have paid the price for it countless times over.
"Actually, I think I may offer more assistance to your spymaster, perhaps." I responded coolly, standing straight with bold confidence. I hadn't thought much about the spies until the words came out of my mouth. But once I spoke them, I knew that would be the best fit for someone of my stature.
"Spymaster? I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are talking about." The guard says as he glances over at the other guard beside him.
His acting is quite good, I have to admit. Though I noticed the betrayal of his words in his eyes alone. I am not fooled, a place like this cannot survive off of an army and connections alone. My whole life I have lived in the shadows, I know how important it is. The Game stretches across all of Thedas, not just Orlais, and spies are a requirement for such a thing. An organization as large as this would need people watching for traitors and secrets.
I stared the guard down, daring him to change his mind. When he did not, I simply nodded my head towards the people behind him.
"The merchant over there. The messenger. Even the guard above. I've never seen a messenger stand so still, I assume he is listening to our very conversation right now. The merchant? He's a quiet fellow, so either he is in the wrong trade or he is looking at potential customers to see what they may be hiding. Your guard above is meant to alarm of any persons of interest. Have I forgotten someone, or should I keep going? Because in my opinion they have all failed." I state quickly and clearly, making sure every word is eloquently spoken and to put emphasis on my last word.
The guard is taken aback. His mouth gaped open slightly as he looked beside him for some sort of assistance, but none came. I figured that I was the first person to have noticed such a thing. For a spy such as myself, I am not surprised. It is easier to recognize one of my own when I am looking for it, and only the best are so observant. When the guard did not say anything, I took that as permission to elaborate upon my statement.
"That man that you just let in, the Ferelden? He is a spy. In fact, he is not Ferelden at all. Though his accent was quite convincing, it was his slight slip on the word "library" that gave him away. Not to mention that his coin purse is clearly Orlesian. So, why would an Orlesian dress and speak as someone else if they were not a spy? I suspect he was sent here from some noble house, they are so keen on learning all they can about this newly-formed Inquisition that I am sure they would take every precaution they could to not get caught and have it traced back to them. Shame that they put their money in the wrong man."
The man was scratching at his clipboard with mounting surprise. "D-do you have any other skills that can assist the Inquisition?" He asked after clearing his throat.
"As a matter of fact, I do. But that information would be best told in private only to the Herald himself and your spymaster." I respond, impressed with my own boldness.
The guard quickly motions to the messenger, who then runs off. He glances back at me and begins to walk towards the grounds of the fortress, hinting for me to follow.
The words had been out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I hadn't originally intended to put myself in this situation, to demand an audience with the Herald and spymaster. It was ill-thought of, dangerous, even. I had to think of a proper defense now, to prove worthy of my claims. I walked behind the guard with as much grace and purpose as I could muster. I had an urge to pull my hood back up and run in the opposite direction, but no, I could not resort to cowardice. I had to be strong now, as this was my own doing. Besides, I knew this organization was the best place for me, even if I did have to work in the kitchens.
The guard stopped and waited. A scribe ran up to us a moment later and gave him a curt nod. No words were spoken through this exchange but I knew what was happening. The guard went back to his post and I followed the scribe up the set of stairs. The silence was deafening and only made me feel nervous, but I made sure not to let this weak expression show. I knew the spymaster's eyes were all over me. My claims at the gates would travel quickly, and they would want to know exactly who they were dealing with. I knew how this game was played.
There was another set of stairs until we entered the main castle.
The main hall was quite large, built all in stone that was centuries old. There were still some renovations being worked on, but the building was sturdy. Banners with the symbol of the Inquisition hung throughout the hall, and at the very end stood a large and semi-comfortable looking throne. I found myself impressed with the grand hall.
Already there were whispers as I walked past, but we did not go far into the hall, and ended up taking the first exit on the right. I walked past a dwarf who stood by the fireplace. As I was reflecting how familiar he seemed, the man flashed me a wink. Unsure how to respond, I opted to grin a little as I passed by.
The scribe led me into what I assumed was the base of a tower. It was a circular room that had a recently started mural on the walls and a few pieces of furniture still covered up. Clearly whomever resided in this room had not finished unpacking, but they were nowhere to be found. The scribe led me to yet another staircase and we climbed up once again, and then one last time as we passed by bookshelves that lined the walls. I thought I heard the sound of birds flapping above me before we reached the top of the tower.
It was quiet despite there being a handful of people wearing cloaks and birds scattered all over the room - it looked like a rookery. In front of me there stood a man who was bent over a table with a shadowy figure, clearly in deep discussion. The scribe let out a loud cough to signal my arrival. The two looked up simultaneously to lay their eyes directly upon me. I felt like a child who had just interrupted their parents with the look they gave me now, or an enslaved elf in a noble house who was about to get the switch. I did not flinch, knowing that I needed to make a strong first impression. They cast long shadows, however.
"So ... you are the one who has insulted the quality and workmanship of my spies, yes?"
She had a thick Orlesian accent. I had no doubt that she had partaken in The Game back in Orlais if she was indeed the spymaster. The woman stepped out of the shadows and I saw her face clearer from the sunlight that peaked through the window. She was quite beautiful, with hair that was hidden beneath her hood, although I could see a couple of red rogue strands. She masked her emotions well, as I originally thought she was angry with me, but now I could see that she was testing me. I chose my next words carefully.
"Not at all, I was merely pointing out someone whom they did not truly see, and offered that they take a closer look," I responded cautiously.
"After our guard attempted to turn you away, I suspect." The spymaster replied without missing a beat. Challenging me. I almost grinned at the intensity of her nature.
"After your guard failed to assess me properly, yes. I am no kitchen wench, I'm afraid, although I can understand how the ears tend to throw people off."
At my reply, I saw a quiver on her face. Did the spymaster almost grin? If she was impressed, the look had been wiped off her face before I could notice. The woman began to circle around me, as if she were a vulture. A tactic used to intimidate me, but I was no longer going to give in to such follies for a simple test. I turned my attention to the man and suddenly realized that he was no spy at all, his demeanor did not match up with any of the others in the room. If I had to guess, the man in front of me must be the proclaimed Herald. I tried not to let this revelation affect my abilities.
The woman stopped again in front of me, after she had finished sizing me up, "my messenger informed me that you would not speak of your skills to anyone but the Inquisitor and myself. I pray that these abilities of yours prove worthy enough of our attention, and not a waste of time."
"They are. I have many services I can offer. For one, I am useful with a blade and bow, I can pick any lock and remain unseen, and I have spent much of my life in the shadows so I know where to hide and what to listen for. I am also aware of Elven customs and such, finding or speaking with them to gain information or help without me would be nearly impossible. Also, I know these lands almost better than anyone else. I have traveled through much of Thedas, so I know many of her secrets. I have also read countless books in my travels, which makes me fairly knowledgeable about customs and history."
"And how do I know that you are not a Dalish spy?"
At this, I pulled out my weaponry and belongings. It wasn't easy to prove that I was not sent to spy on them in general, but I had not been with a Clan in a very long time, and I could prove that by showing my blades.
"These are not of Dalish origin. The Dalish craft magnificent weapons and some of their most powerful contain Ironbark. As you can see, these were not made by any Dalish crafter. I have not traveled with my old clan for many years now, nor have I had any contact with them. I did not leave on good terms, but you can rest easy knowing that they would not dare bother the Inquisition. I would not let anything compromise my duty here. I offer my services because I know that I am capable. But it is not mere confidence that brings me here. I want to help in any way that I can, yes, by cleaning bedpans if I must!" My chest swells as I speak through my raw emotions, letting them take control for a moment.
I saw a flicker of something in the Herald's eye, but the Spymaster gave me no hint of her inner thoughts as she listened to my words.
"And the reason you left your clan is ...?"
"Complicated." I replied simply. "It is not a matter of importance, but if that were to change I can promise you that the Inquisition would be the first to know."
The woman narrowed her eyes and stared at me for a few moments longer, as if she were trying to read my thoughts. Then, she turned swiftly towards the Herald, as if to indicate that she was done with her interrogation and wished to hear his verdict. I held my breath as I waited to hear what the Herald had to say. He moved away from the desk to get a closer look at me and though his emotions were easier to read, I could not tell what he was thinking. I saw that he was curious, nothing more.
"You say you know the lands quite well. How well?"
"There is scarcely a place that I have not set my foot in. I could tell you everything there is to know about the Emerald Graves and how it is currently being occupied by a group calling themselves the Freemen of the Dales. I am aware of both sides to the story of the Exalted March, but I am not biased from the Dalish perspective. I know the tales of Redcliffe better than anyone, unless you speak to someone who was there. I happen to know that while you were in Redcliffe, magisters from Tevinter had seized control, and had even removed Arl Teagan from the castle. King Alistair was seen approaching the castle to confront the mages and ... well, here we are. The mages are no longer welcome in Ferelden, but you offered them a full alliance. That is only what has happened in the last two weeks, would you like me to carry on?"
The Herald waved his hand, allowing me to stop. I had heard more than one account of what happened at Redcliffe on my travels to Skyhold, but it seemed as though I got most of the information correct, as the Inquisitor was looking at his spymaster now with deep intensity. It was as if they were trying to converse without words. The spymaster looked concerned and when the Herald turned back to face me, he seemed cautious, but interested. That was good, I could work with interested.
"How far are you willing to go, to serve the Inquisition?" He asked slowly.
"As far as it takes."
"Then I welcome you into my own inner circle. We ride for Crestwood in three days' time."
Notes:
Hello to everyone reading my first fic on this website! I have put a lot of effort into writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it 3 This series takes place during the main events of Dragon Age Inquisition during the main quest-line: In Hushed Whispers. The title for this fic was heavily inspired by the song Fallen, by Sarah McLauchlan hence why the summary contains the lyrics to the song. I found it gave good hints to who she is and what is to come.
I left the main character to be as ambiguous as possible, with no mention to her looks or name, allowing you to picture whoever you'd like (including yourself, if you're into that sort of thing). This proves to be a fun challenge, but allows me to focus more on who she is than what she looks like.
I currently have three chapters prepared and only in need of editing, so rest assured that if you do like this story, more is coming on the way!
DISCLAIMER:
I do not own the characters and world of Dragon Age or the cover art. Nor do I own the song "Fallen" used in the title and summary for this work.