A/N: I added a large scene to chapter 6 so for anyone who has already read it I suggest you go back and read that one... it's not a must but you might like it.
It's the only time I'll be doing that. Sorry in advance.
Amaryllis stood at the top of a hill overlooking the village of Haven, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. Frigid winter winds threatened to blow her hood back and expose her reddened ears to the elements. She watched the smoke rising from chimneys below and imagined the overbearing warmth of a fire, the homey smell of freshly baked bread brushed with melted butter and dipped into a steaming bowl of thick stew. Her stomach churned in hunger. It was times like this she most missed home, missed snow days greeted with a cheer, a cup of cocoa, and a plate of toast to dip.
Here, snow was nothing to celebrate. She had spent more winters here, suffering in the cold, than she had at home. She wished Ellana could have experienced the same. Maybe one day, she thought to herself. Maybe one day they'd pack up their tents and aravels, build themselves a home, and spend their days by the fire in the evenings instead of huddling together under blankets, attempting to warm each other.
Amaryllis shook her head and stepped away, back towards where Ellana was clearing an area between the trees for their tent. She pulled the tent's fabric from their bag and gave it a good shake. Ellana took one side while Amaryllis took the other, and together they threw it over its roughly crafted frame.
"Nice." Amaryllis praised their teamwork, taking a few pieces of branch they had broken to use as pegs. She gracefully took a knee and used a small stone to slam it into the hardened ground. It was difficult work, and by the end she was a bit sweaty, no longer cold. She glanced towards her sister. Ellana worked open the top of their waterskin and took a swig, motioning with her hand for Amaryllis to take it. She did, nodding her thanks.
Ellana stayed quiet, looking out towards the village pensively. She hadn't spoken much that day since their run in with the bandits. Amaryllis had attempted to fill the silence with random chatter but had little success in coaxing even the smallest grunt from her sister.
Amaryllis decided to try her luck again. Ellana couldn't stay quiet forever.
"It's been a while since we've had a decent meal," she began, handing the skin back to Ellana, who nodded in agreement. "There isn't enough sunlight left to hunt, either. Seems there's a tavern…"
Ellana frowned, pressing her lips in a thin line of irritation. "We have enough rations for tonight."
"Aren't you tired of hardtack and dried meats?" Amaryllis tried not to scowl at her sister's obstinance. It was proving to be impossible. "It's cold out here. The tavern is warm. We can eat, drink, and come back here. No one will notice us in the crowd."
"Of course they'll notice," Ellana huffed. "Just as others have. You can hunt tomorrow while I'm away."
"What?" Amaryllis gaped, shocked into stillness. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, punching against the wall of her ribcage as if threatening to rip free. She hadn't seen this coming. "You- What do you mean, 'while you're away?'"
Her sister laughed once, mirthlessly. Ellana's expression was apathetic, a stark contrast to her usually cheerful disposition. "You didn't think you'd be joining me, did you? This is my mission, Lis. You were to help me here, to protect me on my journey. That's it."
Amaryllis fought the urge to stamp her foot and scream. Though fury bubbled inside her, now was not the time. She had to hear Ellana's answer first. "How can I protect you if you're on your own? How can I fulfill my mission?"
"I can handle myself!" Ellana's voice was a whispered hiss. She crossed her arms over her chest, face burning crimson with anger.
"But you don't have to do this on your own," Amaryllis softened her tone and approached her sister, reaching for her hands. If only Ellana would see that they were in this together. "Babae asked us to take care of each other. He trained us for this. I won't let you go alone, not when your life could be at stake. I can't."
Her sister's lip trembled at the mention of their father. She blinked the beginnings of her tears away, turning her head. Amaryllis tried to pull Ellana in for a hug but her sister planted both hands against Amaryllis's chest and pushed her away. She stumbled back a step. Ellana's gaze was set with her decision, jaw tensed. Her cheeks stayed dry. Ellana did not falter.
"You will wait here, Amaryllis. End of discussion."
She didn't wait for an answer, storming inside the tent determinedly without a momentary glance in her sister's direction.
Amaryllis stood aside, stunned into silence at the use of her full name.
It was going to be a long night.
Amaryllis was rudely awakened the next morning, far earlier than she had expected, by the roaring of a crowd in the distance. She scrambled out of the tent to pull on her dusky leather boots, hissing as her warm toes met stiff, frozen hide. The sky was thick with clouds, threatening a fresh snowfall. The sun seemed to be in its own state of hibernation.
Her breath rose through the air like smoke from a dragon's maw. "I hate winter," she griped to no one but herself. Amaryllis took a quick look around their campsite, crossing her arms over her chest to seal in body heat. The trees' branches creaked. Wind whipped her disheveled hair across her sleep-flushed cheeks. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. Ellana couldn't have left without saying goodbye. She would never be so cruel.
She was broken from her panic at the crunching of snow beneath little feet. Amaryllis turned abruptly, one hand clutching the fabric of her cloak above her swiftly beating heart, to find her sister carrying a bundle of firewood. Ellana smiled minutely, expression troubled: apologetic but resolute. Amaryllis met her approach with a half-smile of her own.
"You could have woken me," she said. Ellana deposited the kindling beside the low-burning fire then used a few pieces to poke the blaze back to life. "I would've done that for you."
"I couldn't sleep," her sister answered truthfully, standing with a stretch. Amaryllis huddled close to the steadily growing flames, shaking away the lingering cold with a sigh of relief. "I wanted to clear my head a bit and… work on my apology."
Amaryllis's smile widened. "Oh? What apology?"
"Don't play coy with me," Ellana rolled her eyes and kicked at the ground, frowning. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."
"And?" She asked, attempting to flutter her eyelashes innocently. It backfired. Ellana kicked a rock in her direction.
"Don't be an ass." Ellana turned away, towards the hill's edge. Amaryllis followed closely. They stood at the edge of the hill above the village and watched the bustling crowd in open awe.
Hundreds of people - Chantry sisters, Templars in glistening armor, and mages dressed in an array of mismatched robes - walked the shores of the lake and along the well-trodden trail leading towards the temple, which could be seen among the mountains. Amaryllis turned to her sister beside her. Ellana's eyes followed the line of the crowd in open curiosity. Her expression seemed surprisingly calm for what was to come.
"Does this mean I'm going with you?" Amaryllis dared to ask, breaking the silence between them. Ellana pressed her lips into a thin, unhappy line. "You can't seriously expect me to stay here while you go off, risking your life. I won't let you."
"I said 'end of discussion' and I meant it." Ellana stepped back towards the fire and crouched beside it, lifting her hands to warm them. The light of its blaze was reflected in her determined gaze. "Just stay here and wait for me. Let me do this. If I don't come back by nightfall, I'll expect you to come looking. Until then, wait here."
"Ellana—"
"No," her tone was resolute. "This is my mission, and I will see it through on my own. Though, for you to be this worried," she smirked then, and stood to bump shoulders with her sister, "you must not believe I can do it on my own. Here I thought you were on my side."
"Always," Amaryllis answered without hesitation. Ellana's expression softened further at her sister's declaration. Amaryllis slid her hand into Ellana's, squeezing their palms together once. "I will always be on your side. I can't promise that I'll always listen to you, though."
Ellana let go of her sister's hand and rolled her eyes once more. "It would serve you well to try, just this once."
"Where would be the fun in that?"
The elf bent through the opening of the tent to pick up her bag and made to clip to her side before she stopped and turned to Amaryllis with a devious grin. She bit at her lower lip, dropped the bag back inside the tent, and set her hands upon her narrow hips. Amaryllis frowned.
"What?" She demanded, crossing her arms once more. Something about her sister's gaze had her wanting to run. "Stop looking at me like that. What do you want?"
"I have an idea. One that might help our cause."
"And what is that?"
"I'll need your cloak," Ellana stepped forward as Amaryllis stepped back, already pouting before Ellana had much of a chance to speak. "Just for today. Yours are inconspicuous, normal robes. I saw some of the other mages wearing the same color blue. The same style as well. "
"You noticed that from all the way up here?" Amaryllis's voice pitched higher, more pathetic. Her robes were warm. The air was not. Switching robes meant taking them off and exposing herself to the cold. It could take hours to warm herself back up. "They looked like ants to me."
"I saw a group of them earlier when I went into town."
Amaryllis huffed in annoyance. The fire crackled beside her as if in agreement. "You went after explicitly telling me no? I don't see how that's fair."
"Just— Lis, come on. You know this is a good idea. Come on."
It took a bit more arguing, but eventually Amaryllis did give in. She hissed as her robes were removed, scrambling into her old overcoat before the wind could completely freeze her. The slits of fabric between her thighs were frayed with age and use. Though she wore fur-lined leggings and a thick, green woolen dress, she could still feel the cold cutting through. She longed for late spring: for grass between her toes and mushy, bouncy moss underfoot.
Ellana sighed happily, pulling her sister's cloak closer against her, basking in the comfort it provided. "If I had known it was this nice I would have fought that man in Jader."
"Should've let me," Amaryllis mumbled, shifting closer to the fire. With a grin, Ellana dashed for her pack once more, finally clipping it to her side. She lifted her hood, concealing her elongated ears. Its shadow disguised her wide eyes and marked face. Amaryllis was loath to admit her sister had been right.
"This is perfect," the elf turned to her sister with a smile. "Thank you."
Amaryllis sighed and wrapped her arms around Ellana's smaller frame, leaning her head against her sister's. Ellana's arms snaked around her waist. They stood for a moment, holding each other close. Amaryllis took deep, steady breaths in, willing herself to calm. This was not goodbye, she knew. It would never be. Not if she had anything to say about it.
Nothing would keep her from the only family she had left. Not even death.
Finally, Ellana stepped back, smile unwavering, and gave her sister's hand one last squeeze of reassurance. "I will be back tonight. Catch me something delicious."
"Maybe I'll run into a dragon. I've always wondered what they tasted like."
"Too scaley for my taste." The elf took another step back towards the sloping side of the hill where it led to the main trail and waved. Amaryllis waved back and attempted a small smile. Everything would be fine. She would come back soon. Ellana stopped and spoke once more, "Don't go into the village, Lis. I mean it."
"I get it already," Amaryllis huffed, dug her hands into the snow, and chucked a ball at her sister. She squawked, dodging at the last moment. It hit the pine tree behind her with a smack. Ellana had the audacity to look annoyed. "Now go!"
With one last shake of her head, Ellana turned and began her journey down the slope, towards the trail into the village. After a moment Amaryllis moved towards the edge where she could see the end of the migrating crowd, hobbling along the lake-side path. A slight hooded figure dressed in blue skipped out of the trees and took up behind them, changing her stride to match their organized shuffling.
Ellana had been right. Her cloak blended in effortlessly.
Eventually, Amaryllis lost sight of her sister and the rest of the crowd. She saw, in the distance, their ascent of the mountain. The group fused together as they walked, seemingly flowing like the rapid waters of a river. She wondered when they would arrive at the temple. She wondered what the Divine would say, if the people gathered would break out into a fight. She wondered if the war between them would worsen, that day. She wondered if the Divine had the power to cease their fighting, for good. She wondered if she should pray for her sister's safe return. If Mythal would even listen to a shemlen.
Amaryllis wondered if the bread from the village tasted as good as it smelled.
She stoked the fire, hoping it would last until she returned. She grabbed her bag, cinched her cloak around her, pulling it close to disguise her clearly Dalish clothing, and looked towards the edge of the hill where the trail began.
Ellana had known she was going to go, anyway. Why had she mentioned it so many times, otherwise? It wasn't as if she were breaking a promise. Not truly.
Another gust of wind blew past her, ruffling the hood of her cloak. She pulled that against her, too, hoping her ears wouldn't freeze off.
Amaryllis looked back at the fire and their tent, wavering in her decision. Someone could take it. Then again, they weren't the only ones who had set up camp outside the village. The tent was just a bit of fabric and ropes. It was all so easily replaced.
She turned back to the trail and shrugged to herself, taking long, happy strides towards the sloping path.
At least she would finally get some bread.
As Amaryllis approached the village she saw a group of men in armor, soldiers, no doubt preparing to spar. She drew her hood up further, holding it tightly against her neck with one hand, and quickened her pace. Though she didn't have much experience with them, their shining breastplates reminded her of a certain Templar, and she grimaced at the terrible memory. She passed them with ease, breathing a sigh of relief as she came upon the main gate, which stood wide open, beckoning her forward along with the yeasty scent of bread and ale.
Upon entering Haven she could only stop and stare, brow furrowing with a strange sense of nostalgia that struck her, suddenly, like a stray bolt of lightning. The hair upon her arms rose beneath her robes so quickly that it was painful. She rubbed shaking fingers along her goosebumps with wonder. She somehow knew that if she walked up the path then turned right, past the line of billowing tents, she'd find the tavern. Somehow, she knew, inside the tavern there might be a blonde-haired woman with a silly sense of humor and a love for bees. The thought reminded her of fond exasperation, sticky-tack dried to a starry ceiling, and Akasha, making moony eyes at her computer screen.
She shook her head and rubbed her gloved fingers into her temples with a grimace. Her sister was not something she wanted to be remembering. Akasha was a dream that came to her in the early mornings when the sunlight woke her and she fought to stay asleep. Akasha was tickles and sticky fingers stealing chocolate. Akasha was cuddling on a couch during Tarzan, braiding each other's hair and throwing popcorn into their mouths only to miss and have to vacuum every day for a week because mom was still finding kernels in the carpet.
Akasha was not a part of her nightmares. Akasha was not frigid water and fresh, hot tears or the fumbling of numb fingers for the car lock. Akasha was not, and would never be, screams that couldn't be heard. The burning in her chest, setting her lungs ablaze, or the trembling fingers that slipped through her own.
Amaryllis took a deep breath. She flexed her fingers and pulled them away from where they had been digging bruises into her forearms, taking a step forward. Then another. She blinked away the remnants of her brief panic, climbed the short staircase towards the tents, took another much needed inhale, and exhaled through her nose. To the right was a building with a sign hanging above the door in the shape of a woman, waving in the wind. The singing of a bard could be heard from inside, gently muted by the walls between them. Smoke rose relentlessly from the chimney smelling of roasted meats and the promise of hot stew. Another deep breath and her hand, finally steady, found the door and pushed it open.
The warmth of a blazing fire surrounded her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmed lighting, long enough for someone within the bustling alehouse to yell "Close that damn door!" So, she did.
The first thing she noticed was the distinct lack of a sassy, blonde-haired woman standing to the right of the doorway where she had expected her to be. Her shoulders slumped in relief; the tension drained from her overstrung muscles. Amaryllis was thankful, for once, to have been wrong.
Amaryllis grimaced at the rumbling in her stomach. From inside the smell of the tavern's offerings was far more potent. She turned left in search of the bar, and found a woman standing behind it, rubbing the inside of a mug clean. Amaryllis stepped towards her and nodded in greeting when the woman smiled.
"Hello there," the Fereldan said, placing the mug down upon the tabletop beside an identical row. She set her hands upon her hips. "What'll it be?"
"Uh," Amaryllis paused and shuffled on her feet, feeling awkward. "What do you have?"
"Never been to a tavern before, have you?" The woman asked with an amused giggle. "You here for the Conclave?"
"The Conclave?" Amaryllis scratched at her braided hair, puzzled. "What makes you think that?"
The woman shrugged. "It's brought in a few strange people in the past few days. Thought you might be one of them.."
"You think I'm strange?" She hadn't expected the warmest of welcomes, but she also hadn't expected to be insulted upon arrival. Amaryllis bristled under the woman's attention, regretting having entered the tavern.
"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it, honestly" the woman looked upset by the impression she had given. "It's not uncommon to find a patron who doesn't know what they're looking at, but I can't say I've ever met a human dressed like the Dalish."
Amaryllis huffed. She had been far too naive to think that her appearance wouldn't have brought her unwarranted attention. She was glad Deshanna had kept her from marking her face, if only for a moment. "Is it really that obvious?"
"For one, your cloak isn't the norm. The fastenings are bone but they've got a… leafy design. The Dalish are the leafy people."
"Leafy?" Amaryllis fought a chuckle, lifting her hand to rub at her nose in an attempt to hide her growing smile. "What else?"
"Hmm. For two, your stockings have that pattern, like bark or dragon scales. Not like chains." She gestured vaguely towards Amaryllis's upper body. "And then there's your dress. Wouldn't find anyone else wearing something that cut up the sides. The colors are all green, black, brown - like the forest. People might think you were a half, but…" She put a pointer finger to her chin and shook her head, lips pursed in thought. "No, I don't think so."
"Well, thank you for your input."
"But I take it you aren't Inquisition, seeing your initial confused look. I'll just assume you're just a strange patron, come to sample my assortment of ales." Amaryllis shook her head. "Oh? Then you're looking for some lunch? I've got a fine fennec stew on today, some nug pies…"
"Do you have any bread?" Amaryllis asked, flushing under the woman's amused gaze. She wasn't sure how to feel about all the unwarranted friendliness, if that's what it was.
"Of course. Wouldn't survive without it!"
"Could I have the stew then, please?" She unclipped her bag from her side and set it upon the table. "And as much bread as I can fit in my bag."
The woman cackled, slapping a hand upon the bartop. "I like you. Take a seat wherever you like, I'll bring it to you shortly."
With a satisfied grin, Amaryllis took a look around the room in search of a seat. There were quite a few chairs open as she imagined the majority of the village's current business was away in the mountain. She felt a pang of anxiety grip her at the reminder, but quickly pushed it away. Panicking could be reserved for later, after she had her first hot meal in weeks.
There were a few patrons, still, sipping on ale and talking amongst themselves animatedly. The bard continued to sing gently, the sound of her lute soothing. Amaryllis took a seat at a single table at the window to the right of the bar, plopping her bag into her lap. No sooner than her bottom met the chair did the barkeep come striding over with a bowl of stew, so full it was almost overflowing. She slapped a roll the size of a fist upon the table beside it, grinning as she watched Amaryllis dive for it like the starving creature she was.
"You must've traveled a long way to be this happy over a bit of bread." The woman stepped away again and brought back another five or six of them, eyeing the flop of Amaryllis's bag in her lap. She came back with two more and set to wrap them up in a bit of parchment. "Bit tired of the dry, crumbly shite, aren't you?"
"If I never saw it again it would be too soon," Amaryllis grumbled through a mouthful of carrot, cooked so thoroughly that it melted on the tip of her tongue. She ripped a piece of the roll to run along the edge of her bowl and popped the dripping bit in her mouth. "This is delicious."
"I'll never tire of compliments when it comes to my cooking," the woman said. She dropped the wrapped bread upon the table with a smile. "The name is Flissa, by the way. Now that you've had my cooking and survived my horrible conversational skills, it'd be remiss of me to act a stranger."
Amaryllis brushed her hands together to wipe away any lingering crumbs and grasped the hand outstretched towards her, shaking it. "Amaryllis," she introduced herself.
Flissa stepped away with a nod, back towards the bar, and began wiping out her cups again, beaming. Amaryllis went back to her lunch, slurping it down with a grin.
Had it always been that easy to make friends?
Amaryllis set off an hour later with a bag full of bread, a warm, full stomach, and a promise to stop in for dinner and a pint.
The path she took back to the gates led around the village, circling before a grand church: the chantry, she knew. She told herself it was obvious to deduce upon seeing its stained glass windows and the way it towered above the rest of the village, not because somewhere, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she knew.
She continued past the chantry, making her way back towards the gate from where she had entered. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, as if they had taken the same path before; as if, on instinct, they were following the memory of a childhood long forgotten. Amaryllis had wondered time and again if the childhood she did remember was a fever dream or something a spirit, maybe one of compassion, had fabricated to hide her from her past. If her true childhood had been filled with trauma, far more than the one she remembered, and her subconscious had somehow created such an amazingly detailed hallucination. She wouldn't deny that it was a thought that often plagued her. So many many what-ifs, so many questions, but never any answers. There was no going back. She had accepted that.
The closer she came to the opening, the stranger she felt. Her chest grew numb, her heart no longer beating. Ringing in her ears, then nothing at all but pure silence. Soldiers on break stepped past her, wiping at their sweaty brows with dirtied cloths, talking between each other, but she paid them no heed. Something in her bones seemed to be forcing her forward. Amaryllis felt no control over her fumbling movements, the shuffling stumble of her boots in the snow. Somehow she made it down the stairs without falling flat on her face.
Her knees trembled beneath her cloak. The wind had finally abated, for the time being, leaving the air feeling eerily still. Her eyes darted towards the stables. A crowd seemed to be gathered there, though for what, she didn't know. No one turned to look at her. No one noticed the human gripping the front of her cloak, gasping for a deeper breath that wouldn't come.
A man stood between the tents where the soldiers had stood, before. The sun bounced off of his shining armor, blinding her for a moment. He was a soldier, himself, though he wore a long burgundy tunic cinched at his waist. The top was lined with a fur that surrounded his throat like a lion's mane. His hair was blonde. When he turned slightly towards her, looking off toward the stable himself with an expression of exasperation, she saw he had facial hair of the same golden hue.
Somehow, he looked familiar. Something about him drew her closer. She needed to see.
He turned again, seeing her approach. She squinted through the sunlight, guarded her eyes with the back of a trembling hand, and felt her pulse come back at full force, thumping painfully against her sternum. His eyes were a light, honeyed brown. A scar stretched from his cheek to his upper lip. It moved as he spoke. Something about it sent a jolt of electricity through her, causing her mouth to fall open in shock. She knew him. She knew him. But from where?
It was his voice - a gentle, husky tenor - that brought it all back.
"Excuse me," he stepped forward as if to catch her, concern in the wrinkling of his brow. "Are you alright?"
She could see Akasha at the computer screen, gazing longingly at the face before her. The same man with his blonde hair and brown eyes, red coat, and the sigil of the templar order upon his vambraces. The man Akasha had loved, even though he wasn't real.
"Andraste preserve me. I must send you to him."
Cullen Stanton Rutherford, and I will be Mrs. Cullen Stanton Rutherford. Just you wait.
A girl can dream.
The last fourteen years of her life had been spent with a fictional family in the fictional world of a video game.
Amaryllis began to fall but he caught her with a grunt before her wobbling knees could hit the ground. His hands were strong, steady, and lifted her to her feet with ease. Real hands. Real feet. Cold winds, rough fabric against her arms where he touched her, keeping her solid. Not a video game. Tangible.
She looked up, gasping at how close his face was to her own and he flushed, removing his hands quickly, as if she were on fire. If Amaryllis was, she wasn't sure she would have noticed.
His gaze held hers for a long moment, unblinking, then he scratched at the back of his neck like she had seen him do many times before. On a computer screen. She could almost hear Akasha squealing in her ear. "He's so hot!"
Cullen's voice was softer when he asked again, "Are you alright?"
She wasn't sure how to answer. The words wouldn't form; her tongue felt stuck to her teeth.
His brow furrowed further. "Right, well, um —" But Cullen could go no further. He turned suddenly, with a jolt, like he'd been struck by lightning. His gaze turned to the sky above the mountains. Amaryllis felt she had no choice but to turn, too.
"Do you feel that?" He asked. His hand twitched towards the hilt of the sword at his side. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising. Dread bloomed then skittered down her spine, causing her to shudder.
Her tongue finally unstuck; she nodded, whispering her answer, "I do."
The land grew silent around them save for whistling winds, back at full force. Clouds twisted above the mountain range, swirling like the beginnings of a cyclone until there was a sudden, almighty screech.
Amaryllis clapped her hands around her ears, wincing in pain, but she couldn't tear her eyes from where she watched in terror as the sky burst open, tearing like flesh under a knife. Out poured an ethereal light, painting the world a sickly green, turning the air around them into static.
The screeching stopped and the screaming began.
This time, when she fell to her knees, there was no one to catch her.