I'm so fucking tired, so of course right now is the moment my editor decides she's dying for like two chapters a day.

I'm not really complaining, because it's so nice to have an editor, but it might slow down actually putting chapters here until she slows down with her reading and commenting. Editing, even with help, is a lot of work, and I'm still supposed to be writing, too.

See Red

I spent considerable time over the next handful of days out on the lake practicing magic. Whether I was pulling objects through the Fade or focusing on my staff-work, I didn't have to think - couldn't really think - while honing my skill. When I wasn't practicing, I spent most of the rest of my time in the tavern with Varric and Sera, often with Bull, sometimes with Dorian, but, most importantly, never with Solas, who seemingly avoided the place even more assiduously than I was avoiding him.

With my clan, I hadn't been allowed to drink - at least nothing other than the most lightly-fermented versions of our wines that children were allowed when there was no clean water to be found - so I learned more about it now. Carefully, after the first night, when I discovered too much alcohol made me contemplative, and contemplation could all too easily become melancholy. I cried myself to sleep that night.

I couldn't avoid Solas entirely, of course. I was poorly suited for avoiding anyone , even someone whose aura I could see coming from a distance. Speed was never on my side. We met at least once a day, and I was always polite as my guts twisted and I despised myself for my inability to say any of the things that crowded my mind as I lay in bed at night. I wished I could dream of him - something useful, something that might guide me - but I didn't.

I didn't even know if he realized I was avoiding him, because I couldn't tell if his manner had changed at all. My thoughts wound me up too tightly to judge, and he was rarely near enough for me to read his expression anyway.

Nothing had changed by the time we left for the temple to close the Breach. I was still appalled. Angry? Hurt. And I was still a terrible coward, unwilling to reopen the subject.

Instead, I did what was apparently easier - I closed the Breach. It didn't kill me, or even come close. I remained conscious and everything.

Afterward, Haven celebrated. I didn't take part. How could I? Judging by the music and the sound of feet striking the ground rhythmically, they were dancing. I couldn't dance, so I listened and wondered why nothing felt resolved. Was it simply because I was still at odds with Solas, and didn't know how to solve our -

Our? "Our" nothing. I didn't know how to make him see that I was Dalish - that there was no difference between me and anyone in my clan, not truly, because we all built upon the same foundations. It didn't matter that I had been treated poorly - that my clan had reacted badly to something far beyond my control. They were still my clan .

Or, at least, I didn't know how to make him see it without earning his scorn. I had too much pride to agree with him, but too little courage - apparently - to tell him what I thought of his narrow-mindedness.

I couldn't hide my face in my hands - not tonight, not in view of other people - and so I tilted my head back and pretended I could see the sky.

"Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed." Cassandra's voice, but Solas's name made me clench my jaw. "We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain, but this was a victory." Her hand landed on my shoulder - a friendly gesture. "Word of your heroism has spread."

Heroism. I laughed. "That's an interesting word for falling into a spell of unknown origin that just happened to be what was needed," I told her.

Her hand slid from my shoulder, but she sat down next to me on the stack of crates I was occupying. "Perhaps you're too close to judge," she said. "We needed you. We still do. We've yet to discover how the Breach came to be, and that is only the most conspicuous of our troubles." She took a breath as though she meant to go on and explain the other troubles facing them - us - but it was then that the bells of Haven rang out.

"What - " Cassandra began, but Cullen's shout cut her off: "Forces approaching! To arms!"

Voices. Cries of fear. "We must get to the gates!" Cassandra said, grabbing my arm and pulling me along with her.

I stumbled down the path after her, wrenching myself desperately upright as necessary - the last thing I wanted was to trip so badly that I took her with me. "Cullen?" she gasped as we finally reached him.

"One watchguard reporting," he said, sounding tense but calm. "It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

Over the mountain? How? Anyone attempting it would lose half their army to the cold just reaching us.

"Under what banner?" Josephine's voice asked, and it was the first time I realized she was there.

"None," the commander replied.

Something called my attention to the gates - a whisper of light. No, a whisper of the Fade. A demon, outside the gates - but, no, that was wrong. I could read it in the light of the Fade, and it was whole and uncorrupted. Compassion?

Everyone around me froze in shock as a force pounded on the gates, and a voice cried out, "I can't come in unless you open!" And so I was the one who stumbled down the steps to pull the gate open.

Beyond, I could see nothing besides the spirit glowing in the night. "I'm Cole. I came to warn you," it babbled in the voice of a boy barely grown to manhood, stepping closer to me as it did so. "People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know."

"Do you know who they are?" I asked, making my voice as gentle as I could for the sake of a spirit I thought likely to be among the more delicate of its kind.

"Templars," it - he - answered. "They come to kill you."

"Templars?" Cullen repeated, and I flinched both in surprise at his nearness and at the harshness of his voice. "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

"The red templars went to the Elder One," Cole explains. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." He gestured, but I couldn't see.

"I know that man," Cullen breathed, apparently responding to whatever Cole indicated. "But this Elder One…"

"Who is it?" I asked. " What is it?" I was beginning to get a strange sense of - something - as the templar army approached. Perhaps because there were so many of them gathered together, they loomed against the Veil. But the shadows they cast were wrong. Red. Laced with lightning.

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole said flatly.

"Compassion - I'm sorry, Cole," I began, keeping my voice soft even though I, at least, could hear the panic threading through it, "what makes the templars red?"

"I'm sorry," he replied just as quietly. "Yes."

"Fuck," I breathed. "Cullen - do we have any chance?"

"Haven is no fortress," he answered, his voice heavy. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. The trebuchets - we must destroy as much of the army as possible before it reaches the town." He walked off, shouting orders.

"You can see me," Cole said.

"Yes, and I would like you to stay with me," I told him. "Cassandra!" I called, knowing she couldn't be far.

"I'm here," her voice said just behind my shoulder.

I squeaked in alarm, and then felt like a fool. "Do you know where everyone else is?" I took a moment to glance around, and realized there were three familiar auras belonging to Dorian, Vivienne, and Solas. More slowly, I began to pick out other auras I knew.

"Everyone is here," the Seeker told me.

"All right," I breathed. "There are three trebuchets beyond the walls, we need three teams. I'll take the one holding the gates with Cassandra and Cole, and we need one more mage. The other two teams should have one mage each, but otherwise sort yourselves as you see fit."

"Whom do you want with you, my dear?" Vivienne asked.

"I don't care," I told her - told them all - shortly. I didn't have time to agonize over whether I wanted Solas with me or as far from me as possible.

"I will stay," the voice of the subject of my dilemma said, freeing me from the impasse which had bound me. "Let us hope my healing spells are not needed, but better they are within reach than not."

"I will take the Iron Bull and Master Tethras," Vivienne decreed. "Come, we will take the nearest trebuchet out of consideration for the dwarf's shorter stride - and so we may be of use to the Herald if necessary."

"Are you saying I can't be of use to Inana?" Dorian demanded.

"Of course not, my dear - I only implied it. You said it," she retorted, and then I felt her aura moving away.

"Huh," Blackwall mused. "Never thought I would prefer the magister. Let's get moving." Dorian didn't even correct him, just as any amusement I might usually have felt over the irreverent banter the lot of them tossed about was simply missing.

I looked out toward the approaching army again, and groped for something useful I might say to my companions. "Treat them as you would darkspawn," I instructed them after a moment.

"What?" Cassandra asked, her voice sharp.

"When I was in the future, Sol - someone made a remark about accidentally passing his red lyrium poisoning to me," I felt my ears heat, "if, um, if I...if I wanted...if I wasn't, um, careful. About things. Like, um...blood? It - it made me think of darkspawn just now, when I remembered. These templars have been infected with it - the red lyrium."

"Oh, I see," Cassandra murmured, and I wondered exactly how much she saw. I was fairly certain Solas was watching me, not at all deceived by my clumsy vagueness.

"I should have told the others," I growled as I realized, shaking my head. "Creators, I am such a fool."

"You can't undertake understanding without time to take in events," Cole said, his voice almost emotionless, and yet tender even so. "Your utmost efforts are expected, yet no one presumes perfection." He paused as my thoughts immediately went to Solas. "No, not even him."

"Come on, they're almost here," I said, not replying to Cole, uncertain whether I found his words comforting or not. While it might be good to know that no one - even Solas - expected perfection, what if perfection was all that would bring us through to the other side of this crisis? My words to Alexius echoed in my thoughts: mistakes could kill.

Cassandra stepped up beside me, automatically offering her arm, but then paused. "You and Solas should both stay back," she said, "so perhaps you should simply stay with him. Solas?"

"Of course," he said, just as polite as I had been over the last few days, but probably making it sound more effortless than I had ever managed. It made me wince.

I took his arm anyway. We didn't have time for foibles.

Creators, I hated red lyrium. How long had these templars been taking it, I wondered? Some of them were no worse than Solas, Varric, and Blackwall had been in future-Redcliffe. Some of them were...twisted, strange, bestial without any similarity to the real, natural beasts I knew.

Solas remained beside me throughout the battle, at least mostly. I found it most efficient to either corral the templars near Cassandra - now that I could find her aura - or move Cole about where he was needed. I only had to reposition Solas twice, and one of those times was bringing him back to my side.

Dorian was right: had I possessed the mana, I could have dealt with an entire army this way. The fact they were templars had little to do with it - had they been able to get close enough to smite me or dispel my casting, I would have been in trouble. But templars, it seemed, were trained to handle elemental magic. They had nothing when faced by a mage who repositioned them within reach of quick daggers or a heavy sword rather than shooting bolts from a distance. Even Solas didn't have to reach for his elemental tricks. Instead he focused on defensive spells to keep Cassandra from becoming overwhelmed by the templars I continued placing in her path.

Ours was the first trebuchet to fire, and Vivienne's the second. They did substantial damage to the invading army, or so Cassandra assured me - but it was the third shot, from Dorian's, that shifted the tide. They started an avalanche that simply wiped away everyone in its path. At first, with the rumbling and shaking, I thought something else terrible was happening, until I heard the cheers and whoops of joy. Half of the charging templars were gone, just like that.

I assumed, as Cassandra pulled me into a one-armed side-hug, shouting numbers in my ear, that we would still have a substantial clean-up effort - provided our remaining enemies didn't retreat. But no matter how badly that situation devolved, half their army wasn't going to be an existential threat, so unless the Elder One had reserves stashed somewhere, this was the first great military test of the Inquisition, and we had won.

I couldn't quite believe it - which was just as well, because that was when the dragon struck.