Andraea Trevelyan awoke in a hazy blur of comfortable pressure on her back, and persistent aching pain radiating from her left palm up to her shoulder. The sweet reprieve of sleep was difficult to turn away from, but she knew she should open her eyes, just to make sure she was really alive as her pain suggested. Her eyes blinked open to the slanted wooden roof of a hut. The last thing she remembered she was at the temple of sacred ashes, the Breach. Her left hand raised to her face. The mark was still there, but it was no longer glowing and sparking. Rather it shimmered hypnotically. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her left arm complaining and the warm sheets falling to her hips. The cold draft caused her to sit upright and all thought of sleep vanished. Rubbing her arms, she felt cloth; someone had removed her armour and surcoat. Neither appeared to be in the room. Wanting more layers, she got up, the cold flagstone instantly numbing her toes. As she made to pick up the pair of boots by her bed, a frigid draft and a clatter made her head snap up. An elven girl squealed, a look of mortification plastered on her face as she dropped to her knees and started bowing! Andraea blinked, nonplussed.

"I didn't know you were awake; I swear!" She'd dropped a crate of… something. Andraea bent down and picked up the box, putting it on the bed.

"It's alright, you don't have to- um, where am I exactly? Doesn't look like another prison. What about the Breach?"

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant." The elven girl kept her eyes glued to the floor. "You are back in Haven, my lady." That explained the temperature. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand." The strange brand shimmered at its mention. It drew the eye of the elf who finally looked up. "It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days!" Three days? No wonder she felt groggy.

"So… they're pleased? I'm not wanted for trial?" It would explain the lack of shackles and the considerable improvement in her accommodation since she last woke up in Haven. The elven girl rose to her feet and started backing away.

"I don't know anything about that. I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said, 'at once.'"

"And where is Cassandra?"

"In the chantry, with the lord chancellor. 'At once' she said." The poor girl suddenly looked even more flustered, and promptly ran out of the door. Understandable if Cassandra was breathing down her neck. Ravenna regretted she didn't ask her name. She our have to find her later and thank her. Maybe buy her a drink. Sighing, Andraea leant down and finally pulled on the boots before she lost a couple of toes to frostbite. She wiggled them in the fur lining just to make sure she still could. Still chilled, she looked around for a coat. She found one in the trunk at the foot of the bed, simple but nicely padded and warm. She supposed she should go find Cassandra before the Seeker broke down her door. Mustering her will, Andraea gripped the handle of the door and stepped out to Haven. She not sure what she was expecting, but it was not having the entirety of Haven freeze at her appearance, the silence absolute. She wrapped the coat tightly around her, folding her arms as she braved the walk towards the chantry, seemingly triple the distance it should be now that the way was lined with pilgrims, refugees, and soldiers. The uncomfortable silence was replaced with equally uncomfortable muttering.

"That's her. That's the Herald of Andraste." Came one murmur.

"They said when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her." Another in reply. Andraea continued to walk, up the steps towards the Chantry, the crowd funnelling her down a particular route. What were they talking about, the 'Herald of Andraste'?

"That's her. She stopped the Breach from getting any bigger." They were baying for her blood not three days ago, demanding justice for a crime she didn't commit. She couldn't really blame them; they were scared with nothing else to blame. At least she could now put to rest that small part of her that considered she might have done it, even without her memories of the Conclave. The vision showed her intervening a shadow's attack on Divine Justinia. It was a greater relief than she had expected, despite not knowing anything about the real culprit. She was deep in thought; she didn't realise she'd reached Haven's chantry doors until she heard the wood creak. Two soldiers were holding them open for her, their heads bowed.

"Uh… thank you." She nodded to them and stepped through. The warmth was welcome. Andraea didn't normally mind the cold, but then she was normally in full armour and running around hunting or doing a job. The doors closed behind her and she felt a strange sense of being trapped. To think there was a time when a chantry such as this would have given her comfort in a time like this, as it did to so many others. She could hear voices coming from the room straight ahead. Cassandra's definitive voice carrying across the empty hall.

"I do not believe that."

"That is not for you to decide." The chancellor's voice responded, equally adamant. "Your duty is to serve the Chantry." Andraea halted her approach to the door a foot or so from it. How many times had she heard those words or similar in her life? Her dislike for the chancellor increased just a bit.

"My duty is to serve the principles on which the chantry was founded, chancellor. As is yours." And Cassandra's words spoke to Andraea and gave her ability to move her legs again, opening the door. Cassandra was leaning over the large table in the centre of the room, Leliana standing on her left and the chancellor on her right.

"Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial." He barked at the two templars stationed at the door. Andraea tensed.

"Disregard that and leave us." Cassandra intervened. The templars saluted and did as ordered, leaving the four of them alone.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker." Cassandra walked up to the chancellor, a look of dislike.

"The Breach is stable, but still a threat. I will not ignore it." Sensing that Cassandra may punch the chancellor in the face, Andraea stepped forward.

"I did everything I could to seal the Breach. I could try again but it nearly killed me before."

"And yet you live. A convenient result for you is it not? You have done plenty. Your actions will be taken into account by the new divine." The chancellor snapped. The dislike towards him increased again. Andraea sympathised with Cassandra for wanting to punch him.

"Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face." The Seeker spoke through her teeth. It soothed Andraea to see Cassandra defending her so decisively. Leliana stepped forward too.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live." She glared at the Chancellor, who looked aghast at the veiled accusations.

"I am a suspect!?"

"You. And many others." Her expression did not waver.

"But not the prisoner." He spat.

"I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to her for help."

"So, her survival, that thing on her hand – all a coincidence?" The chancellor was most unconvinced, derisively glancing at the mark and folding his arms expectantly.

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour." That didn't sit quite right with Andraea. The Maker was never one to attend to his creation in her experience. Yet it was surely too much of a coincidence for it to be accidental.

"'You've changed your mind about me wanting me dead? You know I'm not some chosen one, right?"

"You are exactly what we needed when we needed it. I was wrong about you. Perhaps I still am. But no matter who you are and what you believe, we are all subject to the will of the Maker. Whether we wish it or not." She turned away to one of the tables at the back as Leliana addressed Andraea.

"The Breach remains. And your mark is still our only hope of closing it."

"This is not for you to decide." The chancellor was sulking where he stood, arms folded, and face scrunched up distastefully. Cassandra returned, holding a leather bound and guilted book, slamming it on the table.

"Do you know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." She walked toward the Chancellor, pursuing him as he backed away. "We will close the Breach; we will find those responsible and we will restore order with or without your approval." She glowered at the Chancellor who quailed before leaving hurriedly.

"This is the Divine's directive. Rebuild the Inquisition of old, find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren't ready. We have no leader. No numbers. And now, no Chantry support." Leliana explained as Cassandra returned to the table once more.

"But we have no choice. We must act now. With you at our side." Andraea was taken aback as the two women looked to her.

"What is the Inquisition of old exactly?" She asked, figuring she should at least know what she was a part of. Leliana provided an explanation.

"It preceded the Chantry. People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad."

"After, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar order. But the Templars have lost their way." Andraea could agree with that wholeheartedly. "We need those who can do what must be done, united under one single banner once more."

"But… aren't you still part of the Chantry?" Cassandra scoffed.

"Is that what you see?"

"The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine. And then it will wait for her direction."

"But we cannot wait. So many grand clerics died at the conclave. No. We are on our own. Perhaps forever." She may not have been a traditional Andrastian for many years but going blatantly against the Chantry, openly defying the biggest influence in Thedas? It did not sit well with Andraea.

"You're trying to start a Holy war."

"We are already at war. You are already involved. Its mark is upon you. As to whether or not this war is holy, that depends on what we discover." She could not argue with the Seeker. She wasn't just involved; she was in the centre of it all. She wouldn't be able to continue her undisturbed travels and low profile. She was the one with the mark that could fix the sky. Maybe. How many times had she dreamed of doing something so important to the world? Was her purpose in life not to help people in need? If all of Thedas needed help, she would answer the call.

"If you're truly trying to restore order-"

"That is the plan." Leliana interjected quickly.

"Help us fix this, before it's too late." Cassandra held her hand out to Andraea.

"Well, it's not like I was ever one to sit at the side-lines." Andraea smiled, grasping Cassandra's hand firmly and shook, promising her service to the Inquisition. Cassandra smirked approvingly and let go.

"We do not know what we will face in the months to come. As a show of good faith, and perhaps as an apology for your treatment previously, I have instructed Harritt, our Blacksmith, to forge new armour for you. He has the remains of your old clothing, but it is damaged. He should have your measurements from them, though you will need to go and have any adjustments made." Cassandra started to lay out maps and markers on the table as she spoke.

"It will not do to have the Herald of Andraste's armour falling off in battle." Leliana sniggered, guiding Andraea out of the room and walking with her through the Chantry.

"That name again. What does it mean? I'm not a chosen one or anything."

"Can you say that for certain? You said you have lost your memories of the Conclave, who is to say that is not because of intervention? When you fell out of the Fade, people saw a woman behind you, myself included. Even you said you recall a woman. It is believed that woman was Andraste, delivering you to us in our hour of need. Whether you believe you are chosen or not, the people will look to you as a sign the Maker has not abandoned us. It will be vital to the success of the Inquisition that we spread this rumour and you play the part with a modest dignity." Leliana explained, gesturing to the Chantry symbol printed on the banners hanging along the walls.

"No pressure then." Andraea looked at the sun emblem, once more so important in her life. She could feel butterflies starting to swarm in her gut, the weight of what she'd signed up for and the uncertainty of the power she was wielding having finally begun settling in. She was suddenly feeling too warm as her head swam with implications and was grateful as the Chantry doors opened before them and cold air washed over her.

"Your completed armour will be waiting for you with Harritt, just outside the gates. I would advise that is your first task to take care of. As I said, it would not do for your armour to slip in battle." Leliana bowed her head and wandered to the storage tents in front of the Chantry. Andraea reciprocated before she took the path to the left. The people of Haven no longer lined the way, having gone back to their respective duties, but they still looked and bowed at her. She politely waved and nodded to them, walking past the tavern where she spotted Solas, the elven mage she'd fought alongside and who aided her in controlling the mark.

"Ah, you have awakened I see. And walking about. That is good. I had feared the energy expended stabilising the Breach was too much for you. How are you feeling?"

"Um… Sore." She absent-mindedly stroked her left arm. Solas chuckled.

"Aha, yes, that is unsurprising considering the amount of force generated by the backlash. You did in fact fracture your radius bone and three fingers as well as dislocating your shoulder. Luckily for you, we have many skilled healers here, I among them. The breaks are mended but require cautious exercise. I believe the Commander would be able to assist you."

"Thank you, Solas. Not just for sparing me weeks of painful healing." She smiled and nodded to him, taking her leave once he returned the gesture. She would have to thank him properly at another time. And the healers too. Mending bones quickly was no easy feat and would have taken a lot of materials. Walking on she could see the hut she had woken up in straight ahead, and to the left some stairs leading to the front gates. As she walked through the frigid air, starting to shiver again, she heard a familiar Free Marcher accent shout to her.

"Hey, look who's finally up and about!" She turned to see Varric sitting on a log and fiddling with his crossbow, Bianca. He waved to her with a welcoming smile and she approached, arms now folded to keep her coat closed against the wind.

"Hey, Varric. What are you doing?"

"Oh this? Just tuning up and calibrating. A lady like Bianca needs a delicate hand and close attention." He pats the side of the crossbow and a bolt fires into the tavern wall. "Whoops. Uh you didn't see that. Eheh." He gently placed Bianca down on a cloth mat on the ground.

"Needy lady, isn't she?" Andraea joked, walking over to pull the bolt from the wood and returning it to the dwarf.

"Ah it's totally worth it for a unique beauty like her." He sheepishly took the bolt and quickly hid it in his jacket, looking around to make sure no one saw. "So, what's the illustrious Herald of Andraste doing freezing her ass off with a bunch of heretics?"

"I could ask the same of a famous author who is no longer prisoner to said bunch of heretics." He laughed and held up his hands.

"Alright, alright. So, you've read my books, have you?" There was a devious little glint in his eyes.

"One or two…" Andraea replied coyly.

"What did you think? The opinion of such a controversial symbol of faith and rebellion would make them sell like hot cakes I'm sure."

"Oh, look at the time, I need to be going, Varric. Lovely talking with you." She hurriedly stood back, turning and walking toward the stairs. Varric laughed and shouted after her,

"You can't hide from me forever, Herald!" Andraea couldn't help but smile. Varric was easy to talk to and funny. Relaxed. It eased the butterflies in her stomach as she descended to the big oak doors of Haven. Soldiers bowed, saluted, and then opened the doors for her. She hadn't had the chance to appreciate the beauty of the land around Haven the last time she had ventured into it. The imminent threat of the Breach was just slightly distracting. But now she saw how the snow glittered around them, how the lake in front of her was frozen so solidly and perfectly it looked like glass. Even the Breach, casting its green light across the sky, added to the aesthetic. To the right she saw tents pitched, no doubt for the soldiers, and training dummies occupied by recruits who weren't sparring with each other. With them she saw the furry shoulders of the Commander she had met on her way to the Breach. Cullen if she remembers correctly, but she did only meet him briefly in a moment of turmoil. She did remember how he rushed to help his injured men though, taking their weight, ensuring they would escape safely. It was a quality in leaders that she admired, and unfortunately was all too rare these days. He looked busy, barking instructions to the green recruits he was currently working with, so she didn't go over to introduce herself properly. Most of these men and women had never even held a sword let alone fought demons with one. It was a difficult task to train them, but one the commander had taken to quite well from what Andraea could tell. Looking to the left she saw the smithy, smoke billowing from the chimney of the forge and made her way over. She approached the man hammering away at what she assumed would be an axe head.

"Um, Harritt?" He looked up and she was relieved she'd found the right man.

"Ah, Herald. I'm guessing you're here for your new armour. Think I got the measurements correct but that's why you're here isn't it. You go into the hut and you'll find it all there. Try it on and show me and we'll see where that leaves us." He nodded his head to the hut next to the forge. It was a relief to find someone not tripping over pleasantries when talking to her. She went as she was bid and found a gleaming set of freshly forged armour. She was no connoisseur of metalwork but Harritt had made the iron gleam like silverite while it held strong and unmoving. She shrugged off her coat, immediately feeling the cold hit her and hurried to buckle the armour onto her broad frame. It fit like a glove. As well as any Orlesian tailor would the empress's gown. The breastplate was practical, covering her chest with interlocking plates down her stomach for mobility as well as protection. So many armouries favoured making feminine armour aesthetically pleasing, completely defeating the point of shielding the body from sharp objects. Seduction was not a fool proof tactic and certainly not one Andraea was proficient in. No, Harritt was not biased in his craft, she could see that plainly. He made his wares to do what they were made to do. Armour protects. Weapons wound. A horseshoe lasts. There was no chainmail, nor a full suit of armour, but Andraea could forgive this easily. Resources were valuable in these early days: better to give two people moderate protection rather than one absolute protection. Besides, it had been a long time since Andraea had worn a full suit and chainmail, so long had she travelled with similar protection to what she was trying on now. She suspected Harritt took that into account when he looked over her old things. She finished fastening the bracers and flexed her muscles, rolling her shoulders. She could feel the roughness of unworn leather and knew even with the cloth of her tunic providing a barrier, she would have her share of chafing and blisters before the armour was properly broken in, but for now it fit well, it allowed her to move, and it wasn't crushingly heavy. She exited the hut and returned to the forge, arms open for presentation and adding a little twirl.

"What do you think?" She asked the blacksmith. He set down his hammer and put the axe head at the edge of the hearth, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Ah I'd be biased, it's my own work. Besides, it's not what I think, what do you think, my lady?" It had been an even longer time since anyone had called her 'my lady'.

"I think we have an excellent blacksmith on our side, Master Harritt." He chuckled.

"Just Harritt will do, my lady. Not a master of anything but my forge."

"Alright, Harritt. Well the armour is warm and sturdy. Just what I need. It fits well and I can move in it easily." Harritt circled her, looking at the straps and joints, checking gaps and weak points.

"I've managed to impress myself with this one. Don't think I've ever got someone's measurements this right without actually measuring them. If you want to soften up the leather quicker, there's a solution you can make out of embrium, blood lotus and spindleweed that does the trick nicely if you apply it before you sleep and leave it overnight. Do that for about a week and that leather will feel like you've been wearing it for years, without the damage. Or you could just piss on it, that works too." He seemed to realise what he'd said and held his hand up, apologising. "Ah I'm sorry, my lady, forgive my crudeness!" But Andraea just laughed. It seemed to put Harritt at ease.

"Honestly, between everyone yelling curses and now too scared to even look at me, it's a relief to hear someone talk to me normally. I don't want anyone walking on eggshells around me."

"Noted, my lady. Now, if you have the resources, I can forge upgrades and additions to your armour. At the moment all of Haven's resources have to be rationed so it'll have to come out of your own findings. For the time being."

"Understood, Harritt. It really is excellent work." She patted his shoulder and nodded before taking her leave. Andraea figured she should learn her surroundings. She knew what lay up the road and across the bridge, but across the lake was a mystery. She wasn't silly enough to walk across the frozen water, so she headed back towards the gate and followed the road past it. She saw the commander again, now discussing something with another officer, holding a clipboard while his recruits continued their drills. The path forked ahead, one road leading up into the mountains, the other diverting to the right into the trees, and most likely around the lake so that was the one she followed. She saw plenty of elfroot amidst the trees and along the path and couldn't help but gather it. Elfroot was extremely useful, particularly for its medical properties. It was the least she could do for the healers and Solas to restock their supplies. Not to mention it smelled amazing to her. Similar to mint but less potent and with a sweeter, floral aroma and an underlying scent of soil. It was one of her favourite smells. She tried to pick only the best leaves, knowing she had no way of carrying too much, so worked her way through the trees quicker than she would have if she was stocking up in bulk. And she found a cabin, deserted for some time by the looks of it. Outside were crates, nets and cages all stacked against the wooden wall. Andraea gathered this was once a fisherman's hut, judging by the nets and cages, and no wonder it was abandoned, what with the lake frozen over so completely. Still, she knocked before entering the hut. It was spacious inside, room for at least a dozen bedrolls and Andraea was sure Haven could use the lodging for when more refugees inevitably came. She looked around quickly, just to make sure it wasn't left alone for a reason and found a stack of notes strewn across a desk, detailing some medical procedures and concoctions she'd never heard of, or thought of, but now that she saw them written down with diagrams, they seemed like such simple and effective treatments. Another thing to bring to the healers, and Solas would likely find it interesting too. She dropped the elfroot leaves into a small crate, found a slat of wood to make a slim compartment for the papers, which she gathered up neatly and filed. With one last look around confirming nothing else was worth bringing back, she took the crate and headed back outside, where she started harvesting more elfroot now that she had a container for it all.

It was only when she noticed how the shadows of the trees had become so long that she realised how much time she had spent there. Even the nugs had stopped running around. She swore under her breath, suddenly noticing how cold it was getting and quickly got up, dusting off the snow and lifting the crate under her arm. It held more elfroot than she thought it would and had actually gained a decent weight. It didn't take long to find her way back to the walls of Haven and the trip was a lot shorter gong back. The recruits were sat around campfires, settling down for their evening meal. The commander wasn't among them. Nor was he stood with the officers. Andraea assumed he would be in his own quarters, a hut like hers or perhaps in the Chantry? Her theory was dashed when not ten feet in front of her, he stepped out of the tent closest to the gates and turned into Haven's boundaries, the soldiers opening the gate for him. She followed, but only because she was already going that way. She nodded to the soldiers, apologising that they had almost closed the gate only to open it again. When she reached the top of the first set of steps, she couldn't see the commander anymore. It was rather dark by that point. Focusing on her task at hand, she ventured up the second flight of stairs and found Varric exactly where he was before but with a campfire and a bowl of stew.

"Ah, Herald! There you are. New gear, very nice." He solidified his approval with a thumbs up. "Oh, the Seeker wanted to see you in the Chantry."

"Am I in trouble?" Varric just laughed.

"No, no. Well I don't think you are. Cassandra never smiles so it's hard to tell. Still, better get your ass up there before you really are in trouble." He smirked and jerked his head in the direction of the Chantry. Andraea continued towards the huts where she knew Solas and the healers to be, a new sense of urgency in her steps. She had already been on the receiving end of Cassandra's anger once and she was not keen to repeat that experience. Solas was not around but she saw lights on in the healers' hut and knocked. A young man in healer's robes answered the door and she held out the crate, his expression one of bewilderment.

"A thank you for mending my arm so quickly. I hope it aids you." And with that, she bowed her head and hurried off. As she approached the chantry, Andraea noticed a new banner draped above the door. Streams of light radiating from an eye with a sword through it. A visual representation of the constellation Visus, from which the heraldry of the Templars and the Seekers had been taken. The Seekers claimed the watchful eye while the Templars kept the sword. She hated how all those books she was made to read stuck in her head. The beams of light likely represented the star that appeared in the constellation after Andraste's death. It looked eerie, fluttering in the dark. Even embroidered, she felt like the eye was always looking at her.

"There you are." She tore her eyes form the symbol towards Cassandra who had just exited the doors and called to her. She didn't look angry, but as Varric had said, she wasn't smiling, though she beckoned and stood aside to allow Andraea entry. As she walked past the seeker, she spotted a notice nailed onto the other door with that same eye stamped onto it. But she didn't linger to read it.

It was always so quiet in chantries. Andraea had never liked that. While she respected the need for peace and quiet, something about chantry silence was so suffocating, so absolute. She felt like she was doing wrong by making her armour clink as she walked towards the room at the end of the hall, every sound magnified in the empty space. "Does it trouble you?" Cassandra asked, Andraea had absent-mindedly been staring at the mark.

"It doesn't hurt or anything. I just wish I knew what it was. Or how I got it."

"What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed, provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by."

"Sure, why not? What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?" Andraea joked. And Cassandra almost smiled.

"Hold onto that sense of humour." The seeker pushed open the door and the two were greeted by Leliana, Commander Cullen, and a dark-skinned woman Andraea had not yet met. "You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisitions forces."

"It was only for a moment on the field. I am pleased you survived." His voice was surprisingly gentle compared to what she'd heard outside. But then he wasn't shouting at her, Andraea reminded herself.

"You and me both." It slipped out before she even thought, and she smiled nervously. She had no idea how professional these people expected her to be. The commander had his own smile briefly tug the corners of his mouth.

"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat."

"My lady, Herald. You're taller than I expected." The woman spoke with an accent Andraea recognised as Antivan. She nodded politely and Andraea returned the gesture. She'd nodded more in the past day than she had done since before the Blight and her days with the Chantry.

"And of course, you know Sister Leliana."

"My position here involves a degree of-"

"She is our spymaster" Cassandra interrupted.

"Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra." Leliana quirked an eyebrow exasperatedly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good."

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help." Leliana finished, glancing at Cassandra as she had her little revenge.

"I still disagree." Cullen spoke up. "The Templars could serve just as well." Neither idea thrilled Andraea, being surrounded by Templars or apostates, but at least mages could be reasoned with and had no vows restricting them. Besides, the Templars were tied too closely to the Chantry for them to accept the request of the heretical Inquisition.

"We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-"

"Could destroy us all. Templars could supress the Breach, weaken it, so-"

"Pure speculation." Leliana snorted. Andraea knew it would be possible with enough Templars, she'd seen enough examples of how strong Templar abilities could be when combined. All the same, she was not convinced the Templars would heed the call for aid. Not without the Chantry's blessing.

"I was a Templar. I know what they're capable of." His voice lowered and his eyes darkened. Andraea felt a knot in her stomach jump to her throat. He was a Templar? Was? Lady Montilyet interjected to cease the circular argument she could see restarting.

"Unfortunately, neither group will speak to us yet. The Chantry had denounced the Inquisition, and you specifically." She pointed her quill at Andraea.

"That didn't take long."

"Shouldn't they be busy arguing over who's going to become Divine?" Cullen snarled. His gentler demeanour seemed to have vanished at the dispute of mages and Templars. Andraea wasn't surprised, it would be a sore subject what with everything that's happened. Josephine ignored him, opting not to bait him into a fouler mood. Already proving to be a diplomat with at least commons sense.

"Some are calling you the 'Herald of Andraste.'"

"Yes, I've heard." Andraea replied dryly, already irked by the title.

"That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we, heretics for harbouring you."

"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt." Cassandra scowled as Josephine continued.

"It limits out options. Approach the mages or the Templars for help is currently out of the question." She scratched a note on her clipboard. Andraea felt her patience thin.

"That name again? Just how am I the Herald of Andraste? I'm nobody!"

"People saw what you did at the Temple of Scared Ashes, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. And as we've explained, they believe that was Andraste."

"Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-" Leliana started.

"Which we have not." Cassandra added bluntly. Leliana gave her another look of disapproval.

"The point is everyone is talking about you."

"It's quite the title, isn't it? How do you feel about that?" Cullen's gentle manner had returned. He was the first person to actually ask Andraea how she was feeling about any of it.

"It's… a little unsettling." He snorted a short laugh.

"I'm sure the Chantry would agree." Andraea sensed a kindred spirit in the commander. His way of diffusing her tension reminded her of time spent in barracks.

"People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you're that sign." Leliana insisted.

"And to others, a symbol of everything that's gone wrong." Josephine finished. It made Andraea uncomfortable, the way they all finished each other's sentences. Maybe because she was the new girl again and out of the loop?

"So, what if I wasn't with the Inquisition?"

"Let's be honest, they would have censored us no matter what." Cullen answered dryly.

"And you not being here isn't an option." Cassandra mumbled, folding her arms.

"There is something you can do. A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

"Why would someone from the Chantry want to speak to a declared heretic?"

"I understand she is a reasonable sort, perhaps she does not agree with her sisters? You will find her tending to the wounded of both the rebel mages and the Templars as well as civilians caught in the crossfire, in the Hinterlands." Leliana explained. Andraea trusted the spymaster's information and allies would be invaluable. And it would be nice to be travelling in the wilderness again.

"I'll see what she has to say."

"Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition's influence while you're there." Cullen suggested. Andraea looked puzzled.

"We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley. And you're better suited than anyone to recruit them. I believe there is a Horsemaster Dennet living near Redcliffe, who would be a most beneficial ally." Josephine clarified and Andraea nodded I agreement.

"In the meantime, let's think of other options. I won't leave this all to the Herald." She suppressed a groan as Cassandra used the heavy title. "If there are no further matters to be discussed tonight, I suggest we all get a good night's rest. We have a long and difficult path ahead of us." With that, Cassandra lead the way out of the room, followed by Leliana. Josephine got to the door at the same time as Andraea, who let her through first. The three women turned left into a side room and said their goodnights. She'd completely forgotten about the commander until she reached the chantry doors and he slid in front of her, opening the door for her.

"I'm quite capable of opening doors, commander." She looked amused at him.

"I've no doubts on that, Herald. However, it is polite courtesy." He gestured her through, and she did as he bade. The sky was inky black outside. "Allow me to walk with you, Herald?"

"Only if you stop calling me Herald, commander." He chuckled.

"Forgive me, my lady."

"Nope, not that either."

"Ah I had hoped to make it through this evening without you finding out." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I regret, my lady, I was not informed of your name. Indeed, none of us know your name. And by this point we didn't want to admit it. We had hoped it would come up in conversation before you found out." He seemed very embarrassed by it and looked very surprised when Andraea laughed.

"Well I suppose questioning me about the giant glowing hole in the sky was more important than, 'what's your name?' so I'll let it slide. This once." Her good humour seemed to ease him.

"So?"

"So…. What?"

"Maker's breath, what is your name?" He sounded half exasperated, half amused.

"Oh, right! Eheh…" She scratched her temple, abashed. "Call me Andraea. Or Andy if you prefer. At this point I'll settle for 'Hey you' instead of Herald."

"Alright." He cleared his throat. "Hey, you, allow me to walk with you?"

"A military commander with a sense of humour? You are a rarity." She jested as they started walking along the path to the right.

"Don't tell my recruits." He chuckled. "So, Andraea, where are you from?"

"Ostwick originally, but I've spent most of my life in Ferelden."

"That explains your accent. I would have never guessed you were a Free Marcher. Varric should be pleased. We've spoken, largely at Varric's insistence. Apparently, I spend too much time with a serious expression on my face and it's bad for my health." The commander scoffed.

"Well they do say frowning gives you wrinkles."

"Somehow I think I'll survive that much. Whereabouts in Ferelden did you live?"

"Oh, nowhere specific. Before the Blight, I was in Lothering. Then there was no Lothering. I wandered the countryside, avoiding towns and stopping bandits where I could and helping refugees, elves, anyone who needed it really. Then the Blight ended. Once my family heard I was alive, they brought me back to Ostwick. I stayed for a few years then went back to travelling around. And, more or less, here I am." Her tone was not weighed down by the events that transpired. Nonetheless, Cullen seemed uncomfortable.

"I apologise, Andraea. I did not mean to open old wounds."

"You didn't. Everyone in Ferelden was affected by the Blight, it's a pain we share. I survived so I can't complain too much. And if I hadn't, I wouldn't be able to complain anyway. Besides, I seem to have gained a love of camping from it, as well as many sights I wouldn't have otherwise been able to see."

"That's… A unique way of looking at things." It was difficult for Andraea to see his expression in the darkness, and the fur around his shoulders gave her the illusion a great beast was striding beside her. She guessed he was frowning.

"I see what Varric means, I can see the crow's feet even in this light." It had the desired effect, the commander's lips cracked into a small smile. "What about you? Which part of Ferelden do you come from?"

"Honnleath was where I spent my childhood before I began training in Denerim. I was transferred to Kirkwall, shortly after the Blight."

"Ah so that's why Varric is so interested in talking to you. Wants more fodder for one of his stories."

"You've read Varric's books?" He stifled a laugh.

"Don't bring it up with him or I'll never get away. He's already hunting me down for an official opinion." They reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, leaving them paces from her hut.

"This is where I leave you for the night, Herald." Andraea arched one of her eyebrows at him. "Andraea. Sorry." He bowed his head and headed down the remaining stairs towards the gates of Haven. Andraea didn't pause, just headed straight for her hut and settled herself for the night, removing her armour with a careful reverence before nestling herself under the thick blankets. She stared at the mark; its shimmering hypnotic patterns soon sent her to sleep, blissfully unaware of the Free Marcher dwarf smirking in his tent as he started penning ideas for a new novel.