a/n- I managed to crank out another chapter for your reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy this instalment. I'm trying to press on through the storyline a little bit as I find the beginning, before you reach Skyhold, tends to drag a bit. However, I'm also trying to find the delicate balance between improvisation and canon plot. Hopefully I'm managing that.

Compliments

The argument grew more and more audible as she made her way up the Chantry. Cullen's voice rang others, though his words were still muffled by the thick wood of the door. Enya hesitated on the threshold, her fingers brushing the aged timbers and drew a breath in preparation for the onslaught of frustrated words and impassioned opinions she knew she was about to endure. Say what they will about the Inquisition's leaders, they were all strong-minded and iron-willed, even the gentle Josephine's words could cut like knives when the situation called for such underhandedness. It was a raw cruelness she had come to expect from Leliana, but had been startled to find in their Ambassador as well.

Mother Giselle and the chantry sister with which the revered mother had been speaking both paused a Leliana's high, Orlesian cadence burst through the door. Enya bit her lip and sighed, before she pushed the door inward. Cassandra was the only one to take notice of her added presence. She beckoned her to the table, frustration darkening her cheeks. Josephine stood between Cullen and Leliana, as though she expected them to come to blows. The hand not holding her writing board stilled one of Leliana's as it rose.

"Enough!" Cassandra jumped in, "If we cannot work together then the Inquisition has already failed and this endeavour, a foolish dream."

Silence fell as all the room's occupants ceased arguing. To Enya, it was not surprising that Cullen and Leliana hardly seemed to agree. She was impressed, however, by the presence Cassandra, whose life's work seemed to be to keep herself out of the direct line of discussion, commanded at that moment. Finally, the room's occupants took notice of her.

"Herald," Leliana's voice was clipped short, like the wings of a pet pidgeon.

Enya could see in her blue and gold eyes, that though she fully believed in what she'd been arguing, the extent of the debate had gotten beyond her. Enya nodded in response. Cullen, on the other hand was terrible at hiding his embarrassment at such chastisement. He shifted foot to foot and she was certain that, had she been able to see his knuckles, they would be white from the tightness of their grip on the hilt of his sword.

"My apologies, Herald."

Enya had to hold back an amused smirk, though she was unable to stop her eyebrow from climbing upward. Cullen's squirming reminded her so much of a child caught in a biscuit jar. Despite herself, she found it incredibly endearing.

Josephine alone, was unaffected by Cassandra's declaration, "Your worship, we've communiques from several of Leliana's people. They have found the Templars at a fortress in the East of Ferelden, a place called Therinfall Redoubt. There has been troublingly little correspondence leaving the fortress."

Enya nodded, "You suspect something is wrong with the Templars?"

"Yes," Cullen stepped forward, "The Order is an honourable organization, Herald. They will be willing to help us close the Breach if we go to their aid!"

"That is IF the Templar's power can even be used to suppress the Breach," Leliana's words were bitter and course, "We have had no evidence to support that a Templar's powers would have any effect on the Breach. A mage however…"

Cullen rounded on her, "Cannot be trusted to contain themselves, to protect themselves. It is too easy for a mage to become corrupted by their powers. We might save the mages and then be faced with an army of demons."

"That is but one possibility, Commander," Leliana retorted, "but it is far more likely that we gain steadfast allies through freeing them. Grand Enchanter Fiona is not an unreasonable woman."

"You saw as well as I did the chaos brought about by dissent in the ranks of the Ferelden Circle, Sister Nightengale. How you can forget that is…"

Leliana stepped forward but was again stopped by Josephine, "Because I learned to put my past behind me and not generalize blame to an entire people."

The air leaving Cullen's lungs made and audible whosh. He swallowed and stepped back from the Inquisition's ginger spymaster, fury filling his eyes.

"And it has been my experience that most mages can easily become corrupted by their power and by the desire for more." Cullen added, his voice rough.

"Enough." Enya took her turn to put an end to the argument, "We do not know for certain that there is trouble with the Templars. Unless Leliana's scout can quickly get us confirmation that a problem has arisen, I don't see how we can, in good conscience, abandon the mages at Redcliffe to a life of servitude to a Tevinter cult."

All eyes fell on her and Enya became quite aware of how she had just spoken. She stole herself to remain strong, to speak her mind. She had never been a leader, as a hunter, she had never hoped to be. But her mother had been her Clan's First once. She glanced to her left and saw satisfaction and, perhaps, pride on Cassandra's face, though there was still trouble in the Seeker's eyes. The other woman stepped forward.

"To that effect," Cassandra leaned on the table and gestured to Josephine, "Magister Alexius has followed through on his promise to send correspondence."

Josephine laid a scroll down on the table, obscuring the majority of Orlais. His script was jointed and mechanical. Enya had never seen such style, but it was still vaguely legible. She needn't have worried after its readability, however, for it was not long before Cassandra continued.

"He wishes to meet," the Seeker teepeed her fingers on the table as she leaned forward.

Cullen cleared his throat, "Which is almost certainly a trap."

"But a trap we know of is one for which we can prepare," Leliana smiled.

Josephine nodded, "It seems he was quite taken with you."

Enya frowned as Leliana followed up this comment with an airy phrase.

"Yes, indeed he was so complimentary that we are certain he means to kill you."

"Oh good." Enya replied, "and I was worried I hadn't made a good enough impression to be worthy of killing."

Josephine let out a small giggle that she cut off by clearing her throat, "Knowing what that he plans to kill you means that we can prepare for his trap and plan a countermove."

"Redcliffe is nearly impregnable. Even with the Inquisition's entire army, we would have no hope of breaching its walls," Cullen explained, "We haven't the men, nor the weaponry to take it."

"Not to mention, marching an army into Ferelden…an Orlesian army no less," Cassandra commented.

"It would be a declaration of war for the Inquisition and Ferelden," Josephine agreed, "the political ramifications would be catastrophic."

Enya lifted and eyebrow, "So you're saying we have a way in, but not a way out. Is there no other way into the castle. There must be something, a sewer, a smuggler's tunnel."

"Redcliffe castle has an escape route designed to smuggle the ruling family out in the case of great peril. A windmill just outside of town hides the entrance." Leliana supplied, "The tunnel is, however, small. Only large enough for a few people."

"So we send a few of your agents through."

"They would be killed on sight, if Alexius has as many men as a sane ruler would. They'd never be able to clear it out sufficiently." Cullen laid a hand on the table.

Leliana smiled, a dangerous gleam filling her eyes as they came to rest on Enya, "So we give the Magister his envoy."

Enya raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to respond, but Cassandra beat with a protest.

"Are you out of your mind, Leliana?" the Seeker gestured to Enya, "She is the only chance we have at closing the rifts, the Breach, and you'd be willing to risk that for a game of cat and mouse."

"I do regret that there will be danger brought to her, but this is the only way for this to work. Alexius cannot be allowed to keep a hold over Redcliffe," the red-haired assassin licked her lips, "or the rebel mages. His men must be distracted."

The door to the war room slammed opened admitting Dorian. He strode through the door as though he had been invited. Behind him, a soldier panted hopelessly.

"He said he had information," the soldier's face was apologetic.

Cullen nodded to him, "Thank you, Saunders."

Dorian lifted his chin, "You'll take me with you if you intend to infiltrate Redcliffe. Alexius will have spared no cost on keeping his castle fortified. You'll need me to get through his wards undetected."

The leader's faces were suspicious, but Enya belayed their mistrust and accepted his offer.

Cassandra looked from Enya to Dorian and then back at Leliana, "Then I will accompany her."

Leliana nodded, "If that is your wish."

Enya was taken aback by Cassandra's protectiveness. She had not expected to feel for people outside the Dalish as she did her clan, or for them to feel similarly for her, but here she was. She did not have long to contemplate this before Cullen spoke.

"I cannot," he glanced between the Inquisition's leaders, "We cannot in good conscience force this task upon you. Say the word and we can still try to reach the Templars."

Enya shook her head, "You can only gain through risk. On behalf of the mages and the Inquisition, I am willing to take this risk."

Cassandra sighed, "Then it is settled," The Seeker stepped away from the table and pressed a hand to Enya's shoulder as she departed. "I will meet you at first light."

"And I suppose you as well," The woman glared at Dorian as she passed him on her way through the door.

He smirked as he watched her leave and then questioned to Enya, "And who put a bee in her unmentionables?"

Enya raised an eyebrow. Dorian turned to the other three members of the room, "Dorian Pavus, Altus of the Imperium. Most recently of Minrathous."

He bowed. Leliana and Cullen for once presented a united front in their thinly vieled distrust, while Josephine, courteous as ever, attempted diplomacy.

"I am Lady Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, ambassador of the Inquisition." She smiled brightly, though strain tugged at the corners of her eyes. "We welcome your help, Dorian,"

Dorian glanced between the other two Inquisition leaders, "Yes, I can see that." He turned to Enya, "If you wish to speak more, I will be at that delightfully warm looking tavern I spotted on the way in."

He bowed again and made his exit.

Silence engulfed the room for several moments and then Cullen cleared his throat.

"Well then, it is settled." He gathered a scroll from a table at the back of the room, "I should return to training. The men have come far, but they have a ways to go before they are battle ready."

Leliana followed him, with a gentle farewell to Josephine and curt nod to Enya. Enya made to follow but Josephine stopped her.

"I've received word from Clan Lavellan. They have levied a threat against the Inquisition if we do not provide proof of your safety." The Antivan Ambassador gestured for her to follow as they left the war room and moved to her office. Enya's face split with an amused smile. Keeper Deshanna was indeed a formidable woman and her threat was hardly out of character, especially as the Keeper was her aunt.

"Normally, I would handle this on my own, but I am woefully ill-informed of Dalish diplomacy." Josephine admitted as she settled into her chair.

Enya nodded, "Leliana has elvhen agents, does she not?" at Josephine's affirmation, she continued, "Then have her send one of them with a letter from myself for the Keeper. I will write it before I leave."

"An excellent idea, your worship. I would advise including something within the letter's contents that only you would know. That way there can be no perceived deception," Josephine commented.

Enya waited a few moments and then asked, "Is there anything else?"

The ambassador shook her dark head, "Nothing that cannot wait until after your meeting with Alexius."

"Then I wish you a good day, Ambassador," Enya nodded her head.

"And I wish you luck, Herald."

Enya closed the door behind her as she departed.

The sky outside was clotted with dark clouds and the autumn air carried the chill of deep winter so high in the mountains. Haven's icy breath drove through her like knives carrying the spice of wood fires as she made her way to the tavern. She took the left-hand path down past the apothecary and paused at the foot of these stairs. Smoke rose from the chimney of the cottage where Solas lodged, and she was struck by the fact that, since the night she had yelled at him, nearly a week past, they had not truly spoken.

She took care not to slip on the icy steps as she climbed the hill. His door was frosted, even under the late afternoon sun. A hollow deadened sound resounded from the coarse wood as she knocked. Solas answered within moments, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Aneth ara, Solas," Enya said, "Garas ma'inarla?"*

Solas' grey eyes glowed down at her, "Of course, da'len."

She relished the warmth of the sparse cottage, wandering at first to the books of the arcane that filled the shelf and then to the hearth, to warm her hands. It had been a short walk, but already, her fingers were reddened by the cold.

"We haven't spoken for some time."

Enya turned at the warmth in his voice. He carried a cup of steaming liquid over to her. She took it from him with gratitude and wrapped her cold hands around it. It burned against her frozen palms. Solas held another cup in his own. He could not have made it so quickly

"Am I interrupting something?" she quipped.

Solas chuckled as he settled into the chair across from her, "I may have spent much of my life in the Fade, but when I have spent time in what most consider the real world, I have had the occasional friend." he took a sip of his drink, "You are not so unpredictable as you think."

Enya looked away to hide a blush that unceremoniously attacked her cheeks. She passed it off in her mind as the warmth of the sweet-smelling brown beverage hitting the frosted skin of her face. To take the attention off of her, she asked what the drink was.

"Ah," Solas smiled, "No, I suppose you would not have encountered it before," he paused to take another sip, "It is called coco. I came across it while travelling through Antiva. A spice merchant insisted that I have a taste. I confess, I have rather developed a weakness for it."

Enya glanced over at him, sitting in his chair. He gazed into the flames in the hearth and she realized that though she had spoken to him many times, this was the first she could remember here he actually appeared to have relaxed. Absently, she raised the cup to her lips and took a sip of the liquid inside.

In all of her life, she had not tasted anything quite like it. The combination of bitterness and thick sweetness confused her tongue, but she found that she liked the flavour very much. Even the overwhelming heat of the coco could not dissuade her from taking a second sip immediately. Enya closed her eyes and let her head fall against the back of the chair.

"I see you've fallen into the same trap as me," the other elf fixed her under an amused stare.

Enya struggled to retain a modicum of dignity as she responded, "I suppose I have. It is quite good."

The fire blazed in the stone hearth, its flames licking the sides of the chimney as they sipped their coco in silence. Enya wondered how a beverage could be so confusing and yet it was the complexity of its flavour that made it worth drinking. A piece of wood snapped and sparks rose into the smoke. They glowed hot and orange, small stars against the night sky of the soot-darkened floo.

"Why do you study the Fade, Solas?" Enya asked.

"Why does anyone follow the path they choose in life?" Solas countered.

"That's not really an answer."

Enya fixed him under an imploring stare. He smiled a small smile and continued.

"I grew up in a village far to the North. There was little to interest me, especially with my talents, such as they were," he shifted in his seat, "But when I dreamed, slipped into the Fade, I encountered spirits, a world beyond the boring reality I had come to accept. It was an escape for a time."

Enya cocked her head, "For a time?"

"Leaving the Fade became like a chore. I spent less and less of my time awake," Solas set his empty cup on the table that sat between the chairs, "Eventually, however, I found the Fade had become, familiar and I could find no new places to visit, no new spirits with which to speak."

"That must have been troubling." She pressed, "If you still study the Fade, you must have realized why."

Solas smiled, "That I did. I have mentioned before that the Fade reflects the world it touches."

"So you left to find more of the Fade," Enya finished the last dregs of her coco and relaxed back into her chair.

"In part," He ran a finger about the rim of his empty coco mug, "I left the village to experience more of the living world. But it was not only the limits of the village. The Fade also reflects and is limited by the mind of the person who enters it. In that village I had experienced little of life. Or the world for that matter." He crossed his leather-wrapped foot over his knee and bridged his fingers in thought, "In leaving the village, I opened myself to the chance for new experiences and in seeing more of the world, I have opened more of the Fade."

Enya felt a gentle smile curve the corners of her lips, "So you became more interesting and so did the Fade." She rolled her shoulders, sinking deeper into whatever cushion the chair offered.

"Put simply," Solas agreed, "And I cannot say that the waking world does not offer its own unique interests. I have enjoyed learning more of the real world to expand the Fade."

"It was never difficult?" Enya asked, "Traveling so much?"

"It matters not. Often we must work hard to attain goals," Solas' gaze landed lightly on her, "You are a warrior are you not. Was it easy to become such?" he didn't wait for her to answer, "No. You trained hard for many years so that you might defend yourself and endure in battle. It also provides you with the enjoyable side benefit of muscles and a lithe physique."

Enya stiffened in surprise, for she was nearly certain he had just admitted to finding her attractive.

"And…you've taken notice?" Her voice was far coyer than she had expected it to be.

He chuckled, "I merely meant that you must enjoy having them."

Enya had just enough time to feel a bit of color creep into her cheeks at her misconception before he added: "but since you asked, yes."

She drew a breath as she attempted to process this new information. She had been told that she was attractive before. The difference was, in those instances she had expected it, seen the attraction long before it was ever mentioned. Solas, on the other hand was so carefully controlled that this little comment came without warning. Enya chose to let it go.

"Where have you travelled? You've mentioned that you've gone to ancient ruins," She pressed him.

Solas gaze down into the depths of the fire, lost in memory, "I once found a city buried over time by sand. It was an ancient Tevinter ruin West even of the Abyssal Reach. As I lay dreaming, I found a spirit of wisdom that guided me deep into the city's memories, back to long before it belonged to the Imperium. Underneath the Tevinter city was an elven one, long lost to the ravages of time, a small civilization, probably cut off from the rest of Elvhenan, forgotten and buried until that day."

Mesmerized by his words as he continued, Enya tucked her legs underneath her on the chair. She watched the firelight flicker, gutter and dim in the shadows of his cheekbones, observing the passage of time in the present as he talked of it in the past. The stories of just that small city, from Elvhenan onward. When the fire had reduce to coals, it seemed Solas realized just how long he had been talking. For a moment, he grew silent, pensive and then he looked at her.

"I have scarce met a soul willing to listen to my tales for so long."

"You learned all of that," Enya did not try to keep the wonderment from her voice, "from one ruin?"

Solas bore the hint of a grin as he responded with maddening finality, "The evening has grown dark." He rose and collected her cup from between her hands. She'd forgotten she was even holding it, "It is time, I think, for The Herald of Andraste to find a place to rest her head."

Mocking aside, he was right, and as Enya unfolded herself from the chair, she realized just how dark it had gotten. For a man of few words, he was quite eloquent when it came to tales that weren't his own. She left the dying semicircle of golden firelight and shivered at the wind that blew through the shutterless windows. With a hand on the door's handle, she realize she had forgotten to ask for his aid.

"Solas."

He turned where he stood by the fire, hand held out over the waning scarlet coals, "Yes, da'len?"

"At first light, we leave for Redcliffe Castle."

The door shut behind her with a satisfying thump. She set out into the cloudless mountain night with her arms wrapped about her.