a/n- Not so long as last time, I am proud to admit! And nearly as many words too. I hope I've done this chapter justice. I'm a bit out of practive with writing and it has been a long time since I've played this part of the game so there are some things I have a bit of trouble really rolling with. And I'm subtly changing characters in ways that I believe give them a bit more depth. I find Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine to lack dynamic personalities during important discussions in the game. They simply serve to explain to you your options with a few of "their" opinions thrown in, which are really just there to give your choices a bit more color. To combat that, I'm trying to add a bit more attitude. We'll see if it works. Anyway, as always, please read and review. But more importantly, read on.

Inquisitor

Sitting on the parapet, she could see for miles. Never in her life had Enya experienced such a view as the landscape before her. It had always been so green in the free marches, so humid. She remembered only a few days of each year that were as cold and white as this and yet she wasn't cold. Skyhold seemed to have its own weather, as though something within the earth kept it warm. Yet even as she had touched the ground she felt that little out of the ordinary, just a tingle in the mark on her palm, familiar but fading.

As the wind drew her hair from her face she wondered if this was how the raven felt as it flew through the sky. If so, she didn't understand how it could ever come down. The wind often howled through the towers, like a wolf searching for its pack, but to her there was comfort in the chilling cadence. A strong gust, finally offset her balance enough to warrant caution and she swung her legs back over the stones to light on the worn stone wall.

About to take a step forward, a crack startled her. On her heal, Enya spun to see the strange young man who had appeared to warn them of Corypheus. She'd seen him hovering about the camp every so often. Noticed that while she might notice him, others seemed to start right through him, or indeed avert their gaze when he was near. He did little however, beyond collect food every few mornings and watch the habits of the soldiers as they went about their days. Sometimes he would help in the healing tent often when a man was gravely ill or dying. Enya thought it odd that the young man had nothing better to do with his time. Then again, perhaps he was a refugee just like the rest.

Cole strode toward her and though he never looked directly at her, she sensed his need to speak.

"They don't like me," he said, "But you don't mind."

Enya raised an eyebrow, "No, I don't mind."

"I am strange to them, and I frighten many people. I am sorry. I don't know how to be like you," He raised his eyes, "Scraping, scratching, scared, alone. A circle in which you are trapped, from which you cannot escape drawing you in. Fate, fading, fighting…I am sorry, I don't mean to scare you. There is much I cannot."

Enya stopped herself from placing a hand on his shoulder. In the clan, they touched to convey comfort, but she doubted he would even feel her fingers on his shoulder and if he did, it would likely only increase his discomfort.

"It's alright. They are only afraid because you are different, and they don't understand," She tried instead, "I am too."

He raise his icy blue eyes to meet hers, "Yes." He paused for a long moment and then shook his head, "The Inquisition wants you…now."

She frowned, "What do you mean they want me? I'm not going anywhere."

"Going. Staying. It is not that. Like Herald, they call for you. A new name, something more. You will be bigger." Cole shook his head, yet his face remained emotionless.

Enya glance at the tips of her worn leather boots, the cracks that etched their surface, but his words only left her more confused, though clearly he had hoped to prepare her for something.

"I'm sorry, Cole. I'm afraid I don't understand."

He wrung his hands, "I should leave. I am only confusing you. Go down. They are waiting for you."

Enya gasped as he vanished from where he stood, leaving only a puff of grey smoke behind, or perhaps it was long left dust from the stone that filled the air where he stood. Either way, she had never seen a mage that could vanish so completely and without any movement or effort. It left her to wonder whether she was right in assuming the boy was even a mage. And if he was, why did he fight with knives?

Driven by his words, Enya made her way down from Skyhold's parapet to the gatehouse. She nodded at a couple of city elves who'd volunteered for the Inquisition. Without hesitation, both forgot their work of stripping rust from the gatehouse chain and bowed low. She smiled at them kindly and asked them to rise. Once they did, she left, hoping to forget their needless displays of respect.

Once beyond the confines of the fortress walls, however, she spotted the Inquisition's advisors huddled together in the curve of a great stone wall. Cullen had put together something of a desk here at the base of the steps from which he commanded guard, construction, and training rotations daily. It was not uncommon for her to come across Leliana or Josephine at his side. Even Cassandra, she found, spent a great deal of time coordinating plans with him, though the majority of their planning still took place in the war tent on at the base of the valley. All the same, Enya found it telling that Leliana's warm smile in her direction ceased their conversation and each of the advisors joined in her silent greeting.

Cassandra moved away from them toward her. Enya raised a suspicious eyebrow toward her friend.

"We have caused quite a stir, it seems," Cassandra gestured around them at the bustling groups of people that filled Skyhold's courtyard, "Daily, the Inquisition greets refugees, sisters, merchants, mercenaries, even lesser nobles and chevalier from every corner of southern Thedas."

Enya followed her gesture, listening to the distinct lilt of an Orlesian man as he argued with a dwarf about the quality of some armor.

"Josephine wasted no time sharing our new home with the world," Enya agreed.

The Seeker smiled, "The Inquisition lives. This, Thedas, needed to know, or so she says. In any case, Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage. Our numbers have tripled since you sealed the Breach and defeated the Elder One," She paused, "No doubt he knows we were not defeated. This threat is greater than any of us could have anticipated."

"There had to be someone behind the attack Conclave. At least now they know the Inquisition has not placed their faith in the wrong people." Enya offered.

Cassandra glanced back at her and smiled, "Yes, I suppose you are right. Though it is a small comfort."

They made their way up the steps to the upper courtyard. The dilapidated buildings had begun to capture a new glow of life. The tavern was no longer a half-caved hunk of rubble, and the bridge from the main castle to the walls was halfway rebuilt. Past it, Enya spotted a groups of soldiers replacing the rotted wood of the stable roof with Master Dennet below instructing.

"But more importantly, we can take comfort in knowing what draws Corypheus to you."

Enya sighed, "I got in his way. I've been spoiling his plans at every turn. My efforts for the Inquisition robbed him of the mages," she looked up at the whisps of cloud rushing through the sky, "And I've drawn attention to him now. When he was invisible, Thedas thought the Inquisition, thought I, was the enemy. Now they have a true name to accuse."

Pursing her lips, Cassandra considered her, "Your actions have thwarted him at every turn, thus far. Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us to Skyhold. You have helped us rise from the ashes of our mistakes. You have given the Inquisition purpose, something to believe in. You are the creatures rival because of the things you did."

Cassandra's voice wavered, though it was strong. In the base of her Nevarran accent, Enya heard faith glowing, the kind she rarely heard in her friend's speech. The Seeker lead her up the steps in the center of Skyhold, and Enya, wary, followed. She'd not truly entered the castle. It had been deemed structurally unsound when first they'd arrived at the fortress. The wear of the stones under the soles of her boots told tales of countless other such strides falling upon the shallow steps across the ages. The edges bore deep grooves just behind the edge of each tread where her boot pushed off to carry her upward.

Cassandra stood on the landing midway up where the stairs turned along the edge of the cliff toward the great wooden door of the main hall and the crumbled statues that stood guard on either side of it. The Seeker's left hand rested on the pommel of her sword and her right beckoned toward the spymaster. Enya's step faltered as she spotted the bowed head of Leliana, holding in her hands an immense, dragon-pommeled greatsword. Indeed, the weapon might have been the same size as Enya, herself. Uncertain, her emerald eyes darted from Cassandra to Leliana, as though something in their posture might give away the significance of this moment she could feel settling like lead into the pit of her stomach. Her heart beat against her ribs like the wings of a caged hummingbird.

"It has not escaped his notice, nor has it escaped ours that the Inquisition has only made it this far because of your efforts for our cause," Cassandra supplied.

"But the Inquisition," Leliana approached, "cannot rightly claim its title without leadership. We founders cannot maintain our leadership when we cannot agree. You have seen this."

Enya stared at the sword in the spymaster's hands, her lips parted slightly. Leliana's words barely registered, though their meaning seeped through her incredulity. She felt Cassandra's gaze fall on her.

"The Inquisition requires a leader, the one who has already been leading us."

It was then that Enya registered the din that fell on the courtyard. The rumbling murmur of voices hummed against the great stones of the walls and echoed faintly from the mountains ceased. Silent had become the clang of hammers and chisels and saws and the shouts of supplies being delivered to the fortress' kitchen. A thousand eyes were fixed on her, standing with these two leaders of the Inquisition. Caught off guard, she almost wondered if this had all been a dream, for indeed, Cassandra and Leliana could not be suggesting…

"You."

Cassandra's face was brimming with pride, when Enya whipped around to look at her. Leliana held out the sword to her and out of reflex, she began to raise her right hand before coming to her senses. Had they forgotten she was not human? That she was a Dalish elf from a far off land who'd scarcely had any interaction with the rest of Thedas before the Conclave. Certainly the few months they'd spent fighting had been enough to show her a bit more of the world, but all the same. Didn't they understand the stories she'd been subjected to with regards to her people? Didn't they know the tales of the Dalish blood magic, of sacrificing babies? Of her people behaving like woodland bandits? None of these stories were anything close to truth, but to the rest of Thedosian culture they might as well have been. She was an outsider, plain and simple.

"But I'm an elf," She looked between the two of them, "Are you quite sure you've considered this?"

Even as she argued against their choice, she felt opportunity rise in her chest. Nervous though she was, her eyes drifted back to the sword. The high mountain sun, liquid with the thin light of early winter glimmered off of the pommel. She swallowed and thought to the hope she felt now. Why should she bow to the prejudices of Thedas? Leading seemed a ludicrous choice, reckless and prideful, but at the same time, no elf had been given such a chance for Ages on counting. She knew the Inquisition, and if Corypheus lead her enemies then why should she not lead his? Enya looked away from them, down to the Anchor on her palm. As often was the case, green light flowed from the faint line across her palm. This mark made her something in the eyes of Thedas and she'd seen how much belief could already change how people saw her, regardless of how she felt on the matter.

"Giving this power to anyone terrifies me," The Seeker replied, "but I believe that at least you are a choice that Thedas can understand. As an elf, Thedas will see that you must have risen by divine will, that it must have been by Andraste's hand. They will follow your lead," she drew a breath, "What this means to you, why you lead us? That is for you alone to determine."

Leliana shifted the sword again and Enya stared down into the jeweled eyes of the dragon of the dragon on the pommel. This time, as her hand rose, she drew a deep breath, holding it, as her fingers slipped around the cold metal of the hilt. She never believed that it was through providence that she arrived with the Inquisition. She would stand for her people and for Thedas, for stopping the chaos of Corypheus. He had to be brought down, and it was her duty to do so. It might have been chance that pitted her against him, but this was a choice now, her choice.

She hefted the sword upright from Leliana's palms and drew it toward her to regain her balance. It was heavy, probably close to her weight as well. Any sword she'd handled was made to be light, build for an elf, yet this was not the time to appear weak and so she kept her face as determined as possible and impassive as possible.

"I will bring down Corypheus, oppose his will upon the world. I will not stop. I will not falter. I will not fail. I stand for Thedas, for my people, for those without hope. The Inquisition is for all."

Cassandra nodded, "And Thedas will know. Wherever you may lead us."

The Seeker strode past her, approaching the edge of the steps and called down into the group below to where Cullen and Josephine stood among the crowd.

"Have our people been told?"

"They have," Josephine's white-toothed smile shimmered up at them, as she called back, "and soon, so will the world."

"Commander, will they follow?"

Enya lifted her chin as Cullen turned to the Inquisition soldiers and called to them, "Inquisition, will you follow?"

A cheer rose.

"Will you fight?"

It grew, like thunder in the valley.

"Will we triumph?!"

An avalanche of affirmation fell upon her ears and unbidden, their faith in their shared cause brought a smile to her lips. She turned and met Cassandra's eyes. Her friend nodded her support. She turned to look at Leliana only to receive the same response.

Barely above the cheers, she heard Cullen draw his sword and call out, "Your leader, your Herald, you Inquisitor!"

A chill ran down her spine at the title, the weight of it settling gently into place. Enya thrust the sword high into the air, holding it steady with every ounce of strength in her body. They would win, or she would give her life trying to bring them to victory. Thedas could not stand while Corypheus remained.

She lowered the sword and yet the crowd continued to cheer, hopeful faces upturned to hers. She desired an escape then, overwhelmed by them, just as she had been in the mountains, when the battered Inquisition had fallen to their knees before her in song. Yet there was no Solas to pull her away from the crowd this time. Indeed, he was uncharacteristically absent in this prodigious moment. She supposed he had found a spot to observe unseen, but Enya felt just the slightest bit saddened by the lack of his presence.

Cullen and Josephine joined them on the stairs as the crowd continued to cheer and the four founders of the Inquisition looked to her. Kindly, Josephine leaned her head toward the doors of Skyhold and Enya, blinking gratefully to the Antivan ambassador, turned away from the crowd. She lead them up the stairs and paused to allow the dwarven men at the great wooden entryway to swing wide the doors of the Inquisition's keep. Structurally unsound, though it might be, it was to be their home and the place where they would greet those who came to ask for their aid or offer their own. It was time they entered.

At first glance, the shimmering sunlight falling through the door painted the rest of the great hall in shadows. Each footfall exicted ancient dust to leap up from the floor. Beyond the entry way, broken chandliers and fallen beams lay strewn about the floor. The carpet that lay over the stone walkway toward the dias was murky tan now, but she suspected it might once have been red. The hearths were cold, great chunks of the wooden ceiling and rods from which great curtains of heraldry must have hung now lay, in rusted, mangled heaps upon the floor. Alone in the hall, the stained glass window remained untouched, letting shafts of multicolored light into the dust-choked air. Enya found it hard to breath, for it was damp and she could smell mold. Despite all that was wrong with it, something about the air shimmered, tingling over her skin. Though the fortress may have fallen into disrepair, it held importance, as though once great things had happened on this very spot. She sensed they would again.

"So this is where it begins," Cullen sounded less than impressed by the structure.

Enya turned to face her advisors, mulling over the implications of that thought as Leliana responded.

"No. It began in the courtyard, and in the Chantry in Haven," she stopped, "This is where the promises we've made become a reality."

Josephine sighed. Her cheer at the appointment of an Inquisitor had faded from her face to be replaced by a tight frown, "It will take a great deal for us to get this Hall in a condition worthy of the image we must uphold. And dignitaries will be in no short supply now you've upheld the title Thedas has bestowed upon you."

Enya turned to look at the ambassador, only just catching Leliana's fond eyeroll. She nodded and placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes travelled to Cullen.

"And what of Corypheus?"

He shook his head, "There has been no sign of him since the attack on Haven. No doubt, he is still out there, biding his time, but as of yet, we haven't even a clue where he might be hiding."

Enya crossed her arms over her chest and bit her lip. The hall rattled with the thunk of wood as a piece of fallen timbers shifted. Wind whistled through a crack in the wall. I have seen the seat of the Maker and it is empty. He had said. She knew a little of the Chant of light, the Dalish did not take the time to teach them of human religion, nor had she ever felt the desire to learn of it. However, Mother Giselles explanation of the travesty that humans claimed brought Blight to their world. Why anyone, aspiring God or otherwise, would claim to have been a part of those that breached the Golden City, walked physically into the Fade, she failed to understand.

"Could he really be who he says he is?" she asked, glancing at the Inquisition's, no her, advisors.

Leliana's brow furrowed, "Could he truly be one of the Tevinter Magisters who blackened the Golden City? We know little about him. Certainly he could be, and if he is, then he is more powerful than we could imagine. We will need a great deal of strength to overcome him."

Enya nodded, "And if he really is trying to bring back old Tevinter, he may yet grow in strength."

She spat the words as though they were blood on her tongue. Perhaps it was habit that the thought of Tevinter rising again sent her stomach boiling. After all, Dorian had become something of a friend even though a few short weeks before he had been a wild unknown. Still, she could not quite forget that though some of her People had managed to stay free from Tevine hands, many hundreds of thousands still worked as slaves for Tevinter magisters, and their once great civilization was shattered by Tevinter conquests.

"But that lends us more strength. There are few in the rest of Thedas who wish to see Tevinter return to its former glory," Cullen reassured.

Josephine interjected, "If I may, we have no proof that he is allied with Tevinter. While the Magisterium often makes allusions to a return of Tevinter to greater power, most are aware that to do so by force would spell the destruction of the Imperium all together," she sighed, "Corrupt though they might be on the front of magic, they are not fools. The Imperium Corypheus yearns for no longer, and can never again exist. Thedas has changed too greatly."

Enya nodded and opened her mouth to speak again but it was Cullen whose voice next echoed the hall.

"As pressing as his support might be, I think the more pressing issue is his dragon. Commanding such a creature gives him an advantage we can scarcely hope to match."

"If Corypheus is a darkspawn, one of the first, doesn't that make his dragon an Archdemon?" Josephine bit her lip.

"No," Leliana answered, confident and assured, "It might look like an archdemon, but I have encountered one before. And Archdemon commands, it is not commanded. If what you observed is correct, Inquisitor."

Enya drew in a sharp breath at the title, "I am certain that Corypheus has full command of this dragon. It's eyes never left his movements and when he wanted to flee, it carried him off at his request."

Leliana furrowed her brow, "Then it is no Archdemon. And beyond Corypheus, my scouts have found no sign of darkspawn roaming Thedas. This is, as yet, no Blight, despite his origin. "

Pacing away from them, Enya chewed the inside of her lip. Their eyes followed her movements, burrowing into her back.

"With his dragon, he could attack us here," She turned back to her advisors, "Haven was too great a loss. I refuse to put the Inquisition's people in such danger again."

Cullen shook his head, "He could, but his armies would not be able to make it in time to help him. By the time they were ready to be in position so that he could attack our forces would crush them."

"And besides, we already know what he's planning," Leliana's words carried a smirk, "You've seen it, Inquisitor."

Enya turned to the Spymaster and raised an eyebrow in question. Then the memories raced back to her, each image puncturing a whole in the wall she'd constructed around the dying universe she'd seen. It wasn't something she wanted to think about, but Leliana was right.

"In failing to retrieve the Anchor, Corypheus will have to build his power some other way. When Alexius dragged me into the future, a being they worshiped, called the Elder One,"

"We can only assume that is Corypheus," Cullen interjected ruefully.

Enya nodded, "He'd amassed a great army of demons, which he used to cut a path through Southern Thedas. And his people assassinated the Empress of Orlais."

Josephine pursed her lips, "Turbulent though her reign might be, Empress Celene has control of her Empire. Even the Civil War, though bloody, is hardly more than a war of pride. Duke Gaspard…"

Her voice caught, "This is neither the time nor place to debate this. Orlais' politics aside, they could be our most powerful ally against Corypheus."

"Even so, my eyes in Orlais say that we have a great deal more to do before we have gain the Empire's full support," Leliana cautioned, "But I will continue to look for ways to coax them toward our favor, Inquisitor."

"Good," Enya's hands came to rest at her hips, "But right now, I'm more concerned with the demon army."

"I think I might be able to help you there,"

All eyes fell toward the dwarf that sauntered through the open doors of the great hall. Despite his casual stride, Varric wrung his hands together. Concern gripped the depths of Enya's stomach as she watched the usually loquacious business man, stumble over his words.

"I have a friend who is good at these kinds of things," he paused, "Perhaps I delayed a little in asking for her aid, but I had to know I was on the right side of things."

Leliana and Cullen exchanged a glance. A smile played over their faces, while Enya caught a frown cross Josephine's. There seemed no reason for such conspiracy and she was left with the bitter sense of being left outside of a joke. Addressing Varric, she gestured.

"You're certain your friend could help?"

"There isn't a person in the whole of Thedas that I would think more capable, Inquisitor."

The note of pride and fondness in his voice sparked the ghost of a smile to her lips. She wondered if there were anyone in the world that could engendered such faith from him besides this one person.

Enya nodded, "Then send for your friend, Varric."

"Right you are, Inquisitor," he bowed his blonde head, "I will send a raven immediately."

He turned to leave, but Leliana called out to him, "Ask Charter to give you one of my fastest birds."

"As you wish, Sister Nightingale." Varric turned on his heel, leaving the four of them to stand in the hall, gazing out the door into the crystalline mountain sky.

The silence stretched, long and humming. Enya found her thoughts swirling on the eddies of wind that ushered through the tiny cracks in the walls. The gusts that slipped through the open door tugged her hair back from her face like the Dalish children she'd once watched when she grew into her teen years. How odd that this was the memory she chose now, when she stood on the precipice of great change. And yet the breeze was the breath of a thousand children that now depended on her, a thousand lives whose hearts beat and lips drank and songs sung under her command. She was numb, neither overwhelmed, nor accepting, just numb.

Then a hearty sigh interrupted her thoughts. The spymaster shook her head and crossed her arms.

"If he's brought who I think he has, Cassandra is going to kill him."