By the time Carver could carry a sword again, Ellana Lavellan had recruited First Enchanter Vivienne, the Friends of Red Jenny, and the Bull's Chargers.

Since Carver and the three strangers had been far beneath the source of the explosion, and due to the way the four of them had been tossed to the ground, Carver and his gear hadn't suffered irreparable injuries. A volunteer's careless actions with a boulder had in fact dealt the worst damage to him as he and three corpses had been excavated from the ruins. It meant that Harritt, a blacksmith from Redcliffe now serving the newly-established Inquisition, had been able to rescue Summer Sword at the cost of its sheath. Carver kept his sword in an ill-fitting sheath while he awaited Harritt's team to smith him a new one and repair his armour.

From Leliana's recounting, Ellana had stumbled out of the rift in the temple with a mark on her hand, and no memory of the temple. An echo in the Fade had revealed that after Carver had told Ellana to stay put, the woman had run up floors away from where he had gone, before being drawn to a room where she had heard Justinia being attacked by a blurred figure. Since a female silhouette had been seen in the rift Ellana had tripped out of, the people in Haven generally believed that Andraste had sent Ellana to them. The belief had spread like wildfire out of Haven, shaking the foundations of Val Royeaux.

Suddenly, everyone had to choose an answer to the question, "is Lavellan the Herald of Andraste?" Leliana's spies hadn't dissuaded a positive.

Everyone Carver knew in Haven had been wrecked by the conclave explosion, and reminded of it by the Breach in the sky. Leliana especially blamed herself for not heeding Carver's warning, despite his dismissal of it. His and Justinia's figures in the Fade echo were part of the reason why Ellana had been deemed innocent of the explosion.

Ellana's initiative and commitment to returning order to affected lands was another part. The First of Clan Lavellan had apparently been sent by her Keeper to assess the mage-Templar conflict's impact on the People — for not all Dalish were in the Illuminati — and investigate how Divine Justinia might balance the scales of war before the world could crumble into itself. Now, Ellana found herself responsible for finding the answer.

So much demanded the Herald of Andraste's attention, that she and her party hadn't stopped by Haven in three months. Guided by Cassandra and accompanied by those who were just above strangers to her – i.e. Solas and Varric – Ellana had addressed mage, Templar, and bandit devastation in the Hinterlands; the abandonment of Seekers and Templars in Val Royeaux; and now a religious cult in the Storm Coast. The Circles had crumbled, and civil war had finally broken out in Orlais. Southern Thedas was consumed in mayhem.

Trained by the blight, Ferelden was keeping afloat of complete anarchy. Its citizens from the peasantry to the nobility stuck together and made room where needed, sweeping out messes everywhere else. However, the king's army and local lords' forces were still stretched thin putting out fires while suffering ambushes along patrol routes. All but two Shielders and a handful of Ferelden soldiers had survived the conclave explosion. When Carver wrote to Nails that he was alive, he learned that the king hadn't ceased writing letters to the lost soldiers' families. While not even a third of the king's army and Maric's Shield had been sent to assist in the conclave, Ferelden had still lost many good men and women. Cailan wanted Carver and the rest of the survivors to return to Denerim.

When Carver informed his fellow survivors that they were permitted to return home, they stood at attention and rejected the offer. They could see what Haven and humble places like it were suffering. Carver thus wrote to Nails that given the smaller numbers of the king's army, Carver and his soldiers were cooperating with the young Inquisition to best quickly return order to Ferelden. Carver could take the heat; he wasn't abandoning his people to a cause he himself believed in.

Since Carver was the last Ferelden soldier to recover from his injuries, a number of his soldiers had already integrated themselves into the Inquisition's forces. As the Inquisition's High-Commander, Cullen arranged, trained, and led a force composed of surviving soldiers and mercenaries that had chosen to stay after the explosion, along with new volunteers. The soldiers and mercenaries had earned a place in the upper ranks given their relative experience, while the volunteers outnumbered them, filling the rest of the upper ranks, on to the lowest of ranks, until finally composing the initiates still in training. Predictably, those volunteers didn't know which end of a weapon to hold, but had spirit.

Carver accepted Cullen's request and supported the commander with his military experience. While Carver was restricted to the training yard until he was fully recovered, he advised on the Inquisition's patrol routes and the recapture of Crestwood's Caer Bronach from bandits. Slotted in as an Inquisition captain, Carver also helped coordinate the Inquisition's overall forces. In the time Carver had been bedridden, Cullen had installed a former knight-captain named Rylen as his Lieutenant-Commander, and Maker's Breath — born Flanagan — and a now absorbed mercenary group's leader named Xanthe as captains. Carver and his fellow captains worked together to kick the Inquisition "army" into shape. No one among them wasn't there because they hadn't volunteered for it.

Consequently, the three captains shared a room in a wooden building that had formerly served as a local workshop. The conclave explosion's debris had rained over Haven, crushing people and damaging buildings. The Chantry alone miraculously stood unscathed. The survivors in Haven had thus repurposed any space with four walls into lodging, storage, or infirmaries. Tents had been erected for anything else, including additional lodging as skilled workers were summoned to Haven every week.

Cullen and Leliana's offices had been among the victims, so Cullen, Cassandra, and Josephine shared one room in the Chantry while Leliana claimed another as a spymaster. Carver was amused to discover that Leliana had recruited Daveth as one of her scouts. With Cassandra constantly in the field, Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine grew close just as Carver and his roommates did.

When Carver asked about the state of Redcliffe, Xanthe shared that after the conclave explosion, the surviving mages that hadn't been allowed entry to the meeting had followed Fiona's call to the arling of Redcliffe, where Arl Eamon had granted provisional lodging in its taverns. However, the arl's generosity had gradually laxened the bounds of his invitation, until not just delegates but all mages with a loyalty to the Circles arrived in droves of hundreds. Fiona and her people were camped outside of Redcliffe Castle and demanding they be allowed in to reduce the overpopulation and regather themselves.

Xanthe couldn't say if Arlessa Isolde had any influence in her husband's decision, so Carver turned to Leliana. She confirmed that Eamon's invitation had been driven by a desire to ease Connor's homeless situation and Isolde's desire to see her son. If the couple hadn't parted from their firstborn on good terms, they wouldn't have been exempted from infertile stress. Now in the current timeline, Isolde had a young daughter she wanted to introduce to Connor.

Carver could deduce that Connor was refusing special rights to lodge in the castle with his family, hence Fiona and the mages' ability to stretch Eamon's hospitality to the current lengths. Connor owed a complicated loyalty to his fellow mages while feeling replaced by his sister without blaming her. Now staying in Redcliffe, guilt over his past possession also added pressure on the young man.

Though Carver sent a letter to Elissa asking if Alistair could write to Connor, Carver's letter bounced back to him. Apparently, the Grey Wardens had sealed their keep in Soldier's Peak from the outside world shortly after the conclave explosion. All forms of contact were rebuffed by the keep's high walls. Given the keep's cellars, the wardens were likely still alive inside, and would continue to last for months. The fact worried Carver, knowing that in his last written exchange with Solona, he had told her about his experience with Corypheus and included a warning: if all wardens suddenly heard the Calling, it could possibly be artificial in nature. Carver lacked evidence to suggest his words had any impact on the wardens' current state.

As for the men and women still loyal to the Templar Order, the walls of Therinfal Redoubt likewise spurned contact. Carver's professional acquaintances shared that compared to the mages squatting outside Redcliffe Castle, the banns and arls of the southron hills were unaffected by the Templars' isolation. No mere persuasion could convince the local lords to poke the political hornet's nest. The Seekers had also eerily vanished ever since their lord seeker's abandonment of the Chantry.

Then Ellana Lavellan returned to Haven with her party, and declared she wanted to recruit both mages and Templars into the Inquisition.

"Hawke's going to kill you," Varric spluttered at the sight of Carver. "Sunshine, too. Have you written to them that you're alive?"

An awkward moment of shock answered him. Maker, of course Varric would update Garrett on what the merchant prince last knew of Carver's state. Carver had been so consumed with work that he had forgotten about his family. If word had spread far enough between Carver's relations in the Free Marches, Leandra herself was likely leading the line to strangle Carver.

Cassandra snorted in amusement while confused looks passed through Ellana's party at Varric's outburst. They probably wondered how a random Inquisition soldier could inspire direct aggression from the Champion of Kirkwall. Carver noted that the party consisted of most if not all possible companions, though the Iron Bull's large frame hid much past Ellana.

Said woman stepped towards Carver with an offered hand. "It warms my heart to see you on your feet, Ser Carver."

Carver shook her hand. "Please, Your Worship, just Carver will do."

Her smile seemed to reflect off the snow falling around them, lighting up the air. "Then call me Ellana. I don't hear my name often enough."

Ellana's brief giggle nearly inspired one out of Carver, her vibrancy contagious. Faint tree branches traced her cheekbones in mirroring silver ink like mercurial wings: the simplified vallaslin for Mythal. They curved with her unrelenting cheer despite the burden on her shoulders, though she didn't show it. Carver retreated to Cullen's side as Ellana's companions split up at the Chantry's doors. Cassandra alone followed Ellana in as Cullen, Josephine, and Carver escorted her to the sacristy now serving as a war room.

Ellana moved spryly and with grace, her willowy form seemingly raising musical notes as her feet padded on the Chantry floor. Midnight black hair tumbled down her shoulders in loose, buoyant loops, and when her tall figure passed a torch mounted on a Chantry wall, stars showered through her curls. A dutch headband braid pulled them back from Ellana's face, which glowed with an expressiveness, always teetering on the edge of another emotion. Yet in her overflowing youthfulness, Carver could sense a settled wisdom deep within them like the presence of a boulder felt from downstream. Her true age escaped him.

"The Templars refuse to speak to anyone," Cullen stated the instant the door behind them closed, "and the situation in Redcliffe is a forest fire waiting to ignite."

"Which is why Carver is here," Leliana added with a gesture.

Ellana turned to him in confusion.

Carver sighed. Leliana had requested he escort Ellana to the war room – and had failed to detail that he would further contribute. Regardless, the bard often got her way.

"A Tevinter cult has bound Grand Enchanter Fiona and her mages to servitude in exchange for protection and eventual Tevinter citizenship." Founded in Haven, the Inquisition chose to observe Ferelden naming conventions and address everyone by first name. Carver continued. "The cult's main hand in the south is currently Magister Gereon Alexius – however, his son Felix opposes the cult's ideology and can be reasoned with. As for Therinfal––"

"A moment," Ellana interrupted. "How could you possibly know that?"

Leliana's lips thinned. "Last my scouts confirmed, Grand Enchanter Fiona returned to Redcliffe from Val Royeaux informing her people to prepare for Ellana's arrival."

Carver looked at her. "After your scouts pulled out, rifts appeared around the borders of Redcliffe Village, correct?"

Cassandra drawled, "Hardly unusual given the circumstances."

"I predict that you'll find these rifts unusual," Carver replied. "Felix Alexius was a student at the University of Orlais, gifted in maths rather than magic. Magister Gereon was a proponent of education in Minrathous and valued intellectual betterment over Tevinter's war against the Qunari. His research in the theoretically impossible was close to a breakthrough before Felix contracted the taint travelling from Orlais to Hossberg for the winter holidays. After years of seclusion, I'm not surprised a dramatic Fade-driven event like the Breach has drawn the magister to Ferelden in hopes of culminating his research into action: time travel. Of course, Magister Gereon can't journey anywhere without bringing his ill son with him. The rifts around Redcliffe are a result of the magister's return to his studies, and will bend time around them oddly should you draw near."

Had Haven any crickets, Carver would have heard them.

"I have…" Ellana spoke slowly, "no words."

"A Tevinter cult," Josephine delicately deadpanned.

Carver waved a dismissive hand. "Nationalist supremacists. You don't have to believe me. The point is, if Arl Eamon resorts to sending his soldiers to eject the mages from Redcliffe, he risks announcing his political stance on the broken Circles. Offering the Inquisition up as alternate mediators allows Arl Eamon to denounce our actions if we fail. Technically, we're Orlesian."

Ellana spluttered, but Josephine pointed a quill to the air. "That's true."

Carver nodded to Ellana. "The spokesperson for mages in Redcliffe will be open to dialogue with you, Herald. Ellana. The leader just might not be who you think. To avoid a forest fire as Commander Cullen words it, I suggest requesting to meet in the solemn grounds of a Chantry."

The Dalish woman raised a brow. "Will that work?"

"No." Carver didn't hesitate. "Magister Gereon will summon you to a tavern instead, then Redcliffe Castle if he and his cult succeed at stealing it from Arl Eamon. Redcliffe's Chantry is beset by one of the magister's strange rifts, and no peaceful discussion can be held in it."

Leliana leaned on the war table, gaze falling to the ink marking Redcliffe on a map. "If the Herald is denied a meeting in the Chantry, then we'll assume you're correct, Carver. In which case, I suspect you have a plan for if a crowd of rebel mages overtake a castle?"

"You won't like it," Carver addressed the room's occupants as a whole. "If it comes to that, then I'll be happy to disappoint you with my idea. For now, I hope you prove my conjecture wrong, Ellana."

Cullen groaned, massaging his temples. "Dare I ask your interpretation of the Templars' actions?"

Carver dithered.

Cassandra huffed. "Just spit it out."

"The Breach has opened the way for an assortment of demons to cross over," Carver reasoned. "Lord Seeker Lucius' strange behaviour might indeed be not his actions, per say, but an envy demon's. From the top, it can manipulate the rest of the Order––"

"Now I've heard it all," Cullen vehemently rejected.

"Pressure Therinfal Redoubt with the presence of nobles," Carver turned to Ellana, "and you will only delight the envy demon. Your display of influence will attract its appetite. The moment it extends an invitation for you to enter Therinfal Redoubt, you're in danger."

Cullen shot Cassandra a look. "Conjecture."

The Seeker agreed. "The only realism to be heard is that of all demons to target a Seeker, one that disposes of rather than possesses its prey would stand a chance. A drop of water can better douse a fire than a dry leaf."

Seekers were immune to possession, on top of their ability to battle the arcane. Cassandra merely stated fact.

Carver caught Leliana's gaze. "Happy?"

"I'll have my spies look into Therinfal Redoubt," Leliana decided, acknowledging everyone's expressions. "Regardless of my feelings, Carver is usually right. The Herald can safely test Carver's theory against the mages in Redcliffe, but she'll be in danger the moment we send her to Therinfal Redoubt if Carver is correct. I'll look into what options we have for addressing the rogue Templars while Lady Ellana can personally determine if time-warping rifts exist in Redcliffe."

Josephine sighed. "At least the rebel mages are open to speaking with us. All the diplomacy in the world won't shake Templars if they refuse to even listen."

After the meeting, Carver located Varric in one tent among many erected in Haven.

Carver begged. "I don't suppose you know how to wordsmith an apology letter?"

Varric lifted his head from unpacking his things. He hadn't had a room to sleep in since the conclave explosion had crushed most of them. "When someone closes their tent, Shiny, it means they seek privacy."

"You've broken into my room more times than I can count," Carver returned, sitting down outside of Varric's tent and tying the flap back. The space only accommodated a dwarf like Varric and not the addition of a human huddled in a red cloak. "The faster you spare me your golden wisdom, messere, the faster I'm out of your hair."

Varric's lips twitched upwards. "Flattery gets you nowhere."

"I'll buy you a drink."

"Nor bribery, for that matter."

"I won't tell anyone about the real Bianca."

"You best not!" Varric snorted. "If her family catches wind of us having met in the past year, they'll send Carta assassins after me."

Carver crossed his legs. "How's intimidation doing?"

"Now I see what Hawke means by insufferable," Varric muttered, rising. "Close the flap, I'm freezing."

They found a corner in the local tavern muddled by the noise of the approaching lunch hour, and unfurled blank slips of parchment. The two of them worked through letters for Garrett, Bethany, and Leandra while the lunch rush came and went, loud enough to conceal Carver and Varric's discussion. In the transient form of privacy, they also caught up and tested whose stories were built on truth or not. Varric almost always flavoured his accounts of Garrett before and after Carver's time in Kirkwall with exaggeration or misdirection, while Carver consistently downplayed his experiences or credited them to other people.

The two of them revisited the tavern the next day for a sequel, then the next day, until they began to understand each other's language. Sometimes their lunch overlapped with members' of the Chargers or soldiers' who worked under Carver, but Carver merely ignored the former or nodded to passing salutes from the latter when the crowd entered the tavern. Carver preferred to keep to himself when possible. Varric was rarely without ink and parchment in hand and seemed to be recording Carver's quirks, though the storyteller refused to allow a glimpse of his writings or confirm if Carver was merely being self-centred.

Carver feared which one he preferred.

The day Harritt's farrier passed on to him that his armour and sheath were complete, Carver visited the forge and ran into Thom Rainier.

"Need something?" Thom glanced over a crate he was carrying.

Carver stared at the silver needlework in his clothes. "Griffons."

"I'm a warden." Thom fixed his collar, griffons slipping east into the wane of a new moon. A clasp must have fallen loose. "Though don't tell anyone. I'm technically on the run."

Thom's bearded chuckle affected the air of a jest, but Carver watched him tromp off to a distant pile of crates. The awkward quilting in Thom's clothes must have sourced from the fact that the warden was wearing them inside-out. The Orlesian Order had vanished the same time Soldier's Peak had clammed up. If all wardens were hearing the Calling, had Thom's response been to run away? No, if the Wardens were after him, that meant he had disobeyed an order. Witnessing his superiors make abominations out of his comrades would drive a soldier like Thom to not abandon the Wardens, but oppose their orders.

Treason in the Wardens was always rewarded with execution.

Thom was wanted for doing the right thing.

Carver shook his head at the reversal and retrieved his new sheath and repaired armour. The sheath was white, unfortunately more eye-catching than its grey predecessor, but also fit perfectly. Meanwhile, the Theirin crest on his armour hadn't survived Harritt's metalwork, but the blacksmith had mended the damage with the black-and-white intertwined eye and sword of Andraste's heraldry. The symbol had been inspired by Visus, the constellation associated with the Maker, and later divided between the Seekers and Templars with flames added to delineate the sword as Hessarian's. Since the Divine Age, the Inquisition's colours had been white, charcoal grey, and scarlet, but when Carver declined Harritt's offer to add charcoal grey tinting to his armour, the smith proposed adding the green of the Herald instead.

The Herald of Andraste. Ellana already had colours to her name.

Carver sometimes passed the faithful thanking the Maker and His bride for sending Ellana to them, like she was the answer to their prayers physically manifested. Yet Ellana was still able to smile? Even a mountain would crumble under weathering gales.

Carver maintained his white and gold armour as-is, reasoning to Harritt that the set's colours best matched his golden dragonscale helmet which had survived the explosion unscathed. Adding more tints to the armour would detract its original form. Carver wore his armour and tossed his spare red cloak over it when Ellana and her comparatively smaller party returned from Redcliffe.

With an addition.

The Inquisition's training grounds and stables sat on either side of the road to Haven, which ended at the village's main gates. Ellana halted her party and veered off-course from the gates to find Carver slaying a dummy.

"Venatori," Ellana deadpanned.

"Cult," Carver aptly summarised, lowering his training sword.

Behind Ellana followed Cassandra, Solas, Vivienne, and a man practically sparkling in the snow with his spotless white robes and visible charm.

Ellana shook her head. "How did you know?"

Carver pointed his chin at the white robes. "An influx of arrivals to Gwaren wearing serpent or dragon embroidery? Definitely Tevinter. Considering this one is with you, he must be Magister Gereon's former protégé and Felix's friend, Dorian Pavus of Qarinus."

Not only did Dorian's white robes shimmer with a green-gold mirage of coiling serpents, but the subdued green leathers he wore beneath the layer betrayed an artificially broad, scaly texture in the light that resembled the hide of only one type of creature Carver had seen before. Tevinter maintained a respectful awe of dragons, at times a worshipfulness due to its ancient culture.

Ellana opened her mouth while Dorian delicately raised a brow. "My reputation precedes me."

"The black sheep of a family," Carver responded wryly. "I can relate." He remembered himself at the sight of Vivienne, having not introduced himself to her before, despite the fact she was officially sworn to the Inquisition. Carver placed a fist over his heart in the Inquisition salute, inclining his head. "Pardon my manners — Carver of Lothering, captain of Maric's Shield. Although, I suppose it's also of the Inquisition now."

Vivienne primly tilted her head in return. "Madame Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais."

The first enchanter's hennin moved weightlessly upon her head, the woman herself as unruffled by the brisk mountain air as Varric, for her silk-lined coat opened her neck and bosom up to a delicate whisk collar. Not a few gazes in the training yard strayed to Vivienne's enchanter coat, the unique cut ordinarily limited to linens roughly dyed in Chantry reds, blues, and yellows. In contrast, Vivienne wore a tailored, seamless design insulated with lavender brocade and had pearly shank buttons running down the front left flap. With a matching corset, pants, and boots underneath, Vivienne could have been in a gown. Carver had seen no mage like her before.

Ellana interrupted his thoughts with a gesture. "And this is Solas."

Carver struggled to maintain a flat expression.

In the tense delay, Solas presented a hand, cutting off Carver's response. "A pleasure."

Carver grudgingly reached for his hand.

"––A moment?" Cullen physically and verbally cut in, addressing Ellana and Carver. The commander was already turning to escort Ellana to the Chantry.

Carver dropped his hand and followed them, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder.

;

A/N:

For visualization, this is Ellana's vallaslin.

Spoilers!: I have a confession: the moment I saw this fan art of Solavellan, its Lavellan became the only Lavellan for me. They look so happy together! Which makes canon all the more bittersweet. Though I added curls to her hair, I can't picture anyone else as Lavellan in this fic. Kudos to the artist!

(For FFN readers, links are in the AO3 post of this fic.)