Running On Empty: It Needs To Mean Something


I was all about efficiency, generally. Until we got the horses from the Horse Master in Redcliffe, I didn't want to go traveling to places that I couldn't get back to easily. Some places would still take weeks (if not months) of travel with horses. Only thing was that horses carried supplies, people, and pulled carts. It would cut our expenses significantly if we didn't have to pay caravans to help us. I pondered the question as we rested at a camp along the western side of the Storm Coast. We had found a cave riddled with giant (fucking ass) spiders and the little velociraptor type creatures called 'deepstalkers.' If their teeth hadn't been so goddamn sharp, they would have been adorable.

The tents were set up in a tight circle that left only enough room for the birds, a fire, and the worktable. In the center of it all was a gigantic tree trunk that Bull had lugged from the forest line to the coast and shoved into the ground with some help of our soldiers. It stood with a large, scavenged oilcloth over the top, pulled taut at the corners and staked around our camping area. It protected the tents from the rain and allowed us a moment of respite from the constant downpour. The tents stayed drier, as well, and I knew that was something my soldiers were thankful to have after a long day.

"Copper for your thoughts." Varric asked, sitting next to me. I had taken up a place on a piece of driftwood within the protective circle of the tarp (because that's what it was, honestly) roof and tents. Solas stood off with an officer, attempting to figure out the easiest way to get a Mercy's Crest made and brought out here (and it was sounding more and more like I would have to leave to get it done), with Bull chatting to one of my girls off to one side. We were an interesting dynamic of a company.

"Should I... leave," I started, trying to sort through my jumbled thoughts. My knees were level with my hips and supported my elbows, my wrinkled hands brought together with my fingers tapping against my mouth as pondered aloud. "Should I leave, go back to Hinterlands, get the Mercy Crest finished at Redcliffe with an actual jeweler, or..." Damn, but I didn't know what to do. Any option I took had me days away from where I would be needed. Varric shifted in his seat with me, a rugged mug of something in his hands.

"Shit, I don't know what to do." My fingers left my face and ran through my hair, loose from the braid to let it dry as much as it could. "Because if I leave here without dealing with the Blades, or the bandits, or whatever, I leave my men open to hostilities. But I can't go fight the Blades without that crest, because then we loose a resource that we sorely need." My ribs ached from the cold of the rain and the fights earlier with the hound and spiders and deepstalkers. I refused Solas' healing magic on the fact that it was something I could survive with, no sense in wasting his energy on something that wasn't life-threatening.

Varric glanced up at me over his mug, drinking. "Are you worried about Cassandra?"

"No," was my instant response. I was never worried about Cassandra. God, I missed her, strangely, and it hadn't even been a full day. She was a constant that I had gotten accustomed to having, a word of advice or leadership that I relied on, and now with her gone, I had to think on my feet. It was a life lesson, perhaps, and one that I needed to suffer through if I was going to stick to my conviction of being Herald of Andraste for these people, but that didn't make it easier to deal with in the end.

My lungs gave a gusty sigh. "No, I'm not worried about Cassandra. I trust her and Aclassi to get shit done out in the Hinterlands. We would be going there simply for the crest," I blinked and then wiggled a finger at Varric, who glanced up at me again, frowning, "No, and not just the crest. There were those reports of that Warden wandering around that Leliana wanted me to check. Fuck." My nails ran along the center of my skull in a hard scratch, more and more things to do piling up. I needed a fucking planner to keep up with all of this, because I was starting to unravel at the seams.

Solas stepped over to us, his hands loose at his sides. "Not only that, but according to the latest report, more Rifts are starting to appear around the Hinterlands. They're becoming enough of an issue that the Inquisition can't hold off the influx of demons anymore." Oh, wasn't that just peachy-keen. I leaned back on the driftwood and stared up at Solas for a moment. He raised a silent eyebrow and said nothing, knowing that I had to think through it first before I voiced anything. My eyes flickered over to Bull, the giant had moved on to acquiring something warm to drink, much the same as Varric had, and I glanced between my companions. He was our third, and if he was going to be a part of my inner circle, I needed to be active about including him.

"Hey, The Iron Bull." I called out. The horns swiveled around and his eye found me. I waved him over and with quiet steps he came. Solas gently side-stepped to allow the broad shoulders some space. No need to duck as both he and I were well below the smack-level of his horns. Varric was just a given. The mug steamed in Bull's hand and he stood before me, patient. It was dizzying to be on the driftwood with him looming over me, regardless of the space that was actually between us.

"Opinion time." I announced. Varric set down his mug between his feet on the gravel of the coast and Solas shifted his stance, prepared. Bull took notice and straightened his back to appear more attentive, but it was unnecessary. My assumption was that someone like him was always listening. He just acted this way for the appeasement (and comfort) of others. My throat cleared, "We have several dilemmas. One, this coast. We still have bandits on the loose and few men to spare. Two, the Hinterlands are suffering from an increase in rifts and demon activity, also few men to spare for it. Three, there's a Grey Warden roaming through the Hinterlands that may be able to help us locate other Wardens and deal with demons. Last, that Mercy's Crest."

The Bull's nose flared, his eye focused down on me, "That's a long list, boss."

"You're fucking telling me." I answered with a forced smile. My heels dug into the gravel and I rubbed my cold hands together. "Logic tells me to go to the Hinterlands, because out of all those things I listed, the Hinterlands comes up the most. Warden, crest, demons, and also my horses." There was a beat and a sigh shuddered up from my stomach, my eyes glancing over to my officers as they planned over the requisitions table. "As much as I want to help my men here now, I don't have the things I need. I could get rid of the bandits, and that buys us some time, or brings a retaliation on their heads." With a scan, I searched the faces of my companions, the people who (aside from Bull) and been my closest advisors in this mess.

"I'll go where you go, boss." The Bull answered with a drink from his mug. There was a moment for me, as the world slowed, that I pondered the reply. It made me miss Cassandra all the more, because she never allowed me to be complacent. Bull wouldn't know that, wouldn't know to test for that or push me to make the decisions that needed to be made. His job, at the moment, was to be a mercenary for hire, and follow along, then report back to his people. That was it. Solas, for as much as I loved him, was a guide, not an agitator. Varric pushed me on occasion, but was more like me, complacent if there were others to lead.

My answer came, "That wasn't an opinion, The Iron Bull." It fucking terrified me to my bones that I would challenge his response. The world seemed to pause again, with Varric and Solas stiffening as the words tumbled out of my mouth. Solas was the first to relax as the Bull truly focused down on me, shuddering in my sit on top of the driftwood. Solas was confident he was fast enough to reach me and defend me if needed, but he must've come to the same conclusion I did; Bull wasn't about to hurt me. What drove Bull to say the things he did wasn't because he was testing me, challenging me, but because he was curious.

A spy always had to be curious.

Bull laughed, the mug coming away from his face. "Alright, spit-fire. Personally, I'd tell your men here to keep a low profile, keep their noses out of trouble and report what they find. We pack up and head to the Hinterlands and make sure your Seeker hasn't beheaded half of Redcliffe." Varric relaxed and picked up his mug again, rolling it in his hands as he watched me. My mouth twisted briefly with my mind wandering over Bull's suggestion. A second opinion was good, and when it matched mine, even better. With a nod, I sighed and clapped my hands on my soggy knees.

"To the Hinterlands it is."

- 0 -

When we came upon the Hinterlands, it was in far better condition than I expected. My soldiers appeared more relaxed, and when I passed through the Crossroads, I was told the Chargers had been busy. Cassandra and the Chargers had arrived three or four days before we did, as they had marched at a record's pace to get back to the Hinterlands. Once here, Cassandra had divided up the mercenary company. Some went out to clear places for camps, others to scout and bring back sitreps, and whatever remained was dealing with pushing back the Templar and Mage combatants that were all over King's Road. My officer saluted me as I dismissed her and my gaze shot up to Bull.

"Holy fuck, dude." My words slipped out uncensored, "Your men do not fuck around, do they?"

A hint of pride snuck into Bull's grin. "Hey, you're paying us good money, we'll move mountains for you, if we can." It brought a laugh up my throat and I nodded, making my way toward the hill where Corporal Vale was tented up. The march for us coming out from the Storm Coast to the Hinterlands had been quiet, as it commonly is. Varric and Solas were accustomed to the fact that travel time was normally my time to reflex and mediate. On occasion, Solas would shuffle up to my side and help me focus, having me read to him (brokenly, and with an extra dash of embarrassment as Bull was within earshot), or he'd tell me stories of the Fade when I became too isolated in my own thoughts.

Bull, perhaps strangely, remained quiet. He spoke on occasion with Varric and a few of the other soldiers that were to be rotated out and had come with us, but never to me directly. I hadn't known if my conversation with him asking for opinions had set a precedent for our relationship, so I would have to check on him soon. Realization struck that the Inquisition and its members were becoming numerous and I was starting to lose track of all the people I needed to stay in touch with; a perfect example was Sera, back in Haven, whom I hadn't spoken to since her recruitment back in Val Royeaux. There was also the Enchanter, Lady Vivienne De Fer, who's party date was approaching quickly.

And then, of course, there was still the matter of The Iron Bull. Aside from the broken pieces of conversation we had shared, I hadn't touched the surface of his character. Or whatever he wanted to present to me. There was still a heavy sense of doubt and disassociation due to the fact that I was still strung up about him being a spy. Leliana and I had discussed it, agreed that despite his position with the Qunari, his pros outweighed the cons that came with him. It was a problem for another day, as we were still on the fast track to finally getting the horses we so desperately needed.

"Corporal Vale!" I hailed as we marched up his hill. The man dismissed the soldier at his side and grinned at me, wide and enthused. It energized me to see someone with a smile rather than the dour look of hopelessness that pulled at their eyes and mouth. I bounced up the last few paces with Varric laughing behind me, his pace sedated like Solas and Bull bringing up the rear of our train. The Corporal held out his arm for me fully and I recognized the gesture. It wasn't one I had done before, but my excitement at effectively assisting their recovery had my hand shoot out to clasp his arm against mine.

I was beaming.

"Herald!" He greeted me, his fingers gripped tight around my forearm for a fast second. "Good to see you again. I heard about your trip to the Storm Coast. I hope the sea air did you some good."

"Before or after I drowned?" I teased. It brought up a laugh and the Corporal's face flushed with his nod. I was on a roll, it seemed. Varric came up at my left with Solas by my right. Bull's shadow appeared over my shoulder and the Corporal's eyes flickered up to him briefly before returning to me. My grin softened on my face, "How goes the recovery, Corporal?"

"Leaps and bounds better, Herald." Vale bowed his head to me. "The company that came in with Seeker Cassandra has made quick work of the gaps we struggled to close."

"Good," my grin returned to my face and I stepped to one side, my hand reaching back to pat Bull's arm, "This is their Commander, The Iron Bull, of the Bull's Chargers." The muscles of his arm under my hand flashed tight for a quick breath and then spontaneously relaxed. Bull probably wasn't expecting me to come into contact with him. Varric was the one that regularly initiated the contact between us, and Solas and I shared nothing more than the brief arm brush from time to time. Poor giant bastard, I probably wasn't fitting anything he had deduced of me.

The Corporal's gaze shifted up to Bull, his shoulders stiff, but the smile was one of relief and he saluted across his chest. "You have my thanks, Iron Bull. Your men have shown an efficiency and decorum much needed in this days."

The horns tipped in acknowledgement. "No need for the fuss, Corporal, my men are just doing their jobs." It was left at that and my hand came away from the Bull's arm. We shared a look, his brow raised in question and with a swift turn of my head, I ignored it. It would come up in discussion, I'm sure, and I was more than happy to wait until that moment. We stayed with the Corporal for a handful of minutes longer as he updated me on the whereabouts of pockets of Templars and mages that had scattered to the winds, as well as where Cassandra could be found.

Lieutenant Aclassi was nearby, we were told, and helping Whittle map out possible locations for the caches of supplies left by the mages. We packed up and moved on, heading to the mouth just before the tunnel that led to King's Road. True to the word, Aclassi was bent over knocking heads with Whittle and a dark haired elven woman, pouring over a map in Whittle's hands. We drew near and it was Bull that cleared his throat. Aclassi looked up and grinned at Bull, then bowed his head to me.

"Your Worship." Aclassi greeted amicably. "I see you made it back in one piece." The elven woman slithered behind Aclassi and kept out of my sight. The move was odd when considered with the fact that she smiled at Bull with a nod and the Qunari commander greeted with a dip of his head. Must be one of the company, makes sense.

"Herald," Whittle greeted with a little less enthusiasm. There were stashes of boxes and other crates behind Whittle, some of them were already torn open, nails loose and covers broken. Supplies were tossed about within them, bottles, vials, and a few spare blankets. Solas and Varric pulled up behind me, quiet and steady. Bull was along my right side and once more his shadow drifted over me.

"I see you are all hard at work." I pulled a smile for them and turned my attention to Aclassi. "What's the status report?"

Aclassi nodded, back straight. "We've cleared out most of the bandits along the road. There's still a few out to the east up toward Redcliffe that need to be dealt with, but they haven't ventured far, so we've just bordered them for now." Aclassi took the map from Whittle and made his way over to me. My left hand quietly tucked away to the small of my back so as to keep the emerald shimmer out of eyesight or distraction. The map was brandished before my face, one that I recognized that Cassandra had used when we first arrived.

"We have Templars held up here, here, and here." He pointed to a fort not far from the road past the tunnel, a choke point before the bridge to Dennet's, and then another camp a bit further than that. "We've marked them for later, but our scouts tell us that they're heavily armored. Up to the gills, most like." He paused and waited until I glanced up at him with a nod to show that I was following. Bull shifted next to me, silent as my other companions, but the shadow of his head shifted closer. I fought a smile at the odd image of his shadow horns just above my head.

"We're still looking for the caches." Aclassi murmured, one hand holding the map and the other moving to scratch at the back of his neck. "Once we had moved in to start clearing up the riff-raff, they scattered." A snort and a smile forced their way onto my face at Aclassi's use of the word riff-raff and he caught it, chuckling as well with a shrug. "We'll get to those eventually. What our current issue now is that Seeker Cassandra and a patrol of Inquisition are caught on the other side of the bridge."

My gaze shot up to Aclassi's face, "How do you mean? Are they injured?"

"No, not from what we heard." Aclassi was quick to reassure with a shake of his head. "Thing was, we were attempting to take the road, but these Templars and mages just come out of the woodwork like roaches. We got separated and she managed to get past the choke point, but now they're stuck there." My eyes dropped back down to scan the map as I took it from Aclassi's hand. Solas swerved over to my left side as Bull leaned down by my right. Varric shuffled a bit behind us and walked toward Whittle, chatting with the man as we poured over our options.

"There is an option of going up and around." Solas' pinky finger drew a path from the Crossroads going south toward the lake and then over. "It would get us past the Templars without having to deal with them directly, until we're in a better position to oppose them."

"There is sporadic rift that way." Aclassi added, reaching between us and pointing to a place just beyond the hill. "There's also a cabin further up past the path to the lake, also with a rift. It's inhabited, but we haven't been able to reach them with the threat of demons pouring out." I winced and made note of the spots on the map. It was one thing when a rift sat quietly out in the corner of a field and spat demons now and again, but if the reports were accurate and they were producing more than normal, then whoever was there was going to have a rough time of it.

My nose flared with a sigh. "Alright, not completely vetoed, but placed low on the list. Lieutenant, what's this?" I pointed to the far southwest corner of the map, a giant charcoal 'X' was draw over it. Aclassi leaned over to see it and snorted with a hand to run down his face.

"That," he grumbled. "We were trying to figure out how best to get to Seeker Cassandra and the soldiers, but a few residents here state that there's a giant fortress out that way. We don't know if it's inhabited yet, but all signs point to that being a Templar stronghold for now." So not only would taking the long way around cost us more time, but it also held the possibility that we would get caught in a battle we weren't prepared for, against numbers unknown to us. Crap.

"Krem, what's up here, to the north?" Bull muttered over my head. My shoulders twitched a bit as I had forgotten he was there and that close to me. Bull seemed not to notice, or did, and ignored it. That was fair. My head tilted up just to see the underside of his face before my eyes snapped back down to the map I held. Surprise silenced me as a few of Bull's missing fingers traveled over the northwest side of the map. How did I miss that before? Horns are fucking distracting.

"Well," Aclassi exhaled roughly, "You've got rocky terrain, a small ravine, and one, two, three rifts that have appeared on occasion all along the way, Chief." Aclassi was far from amused. He puffed his lungs for a moment and shrugged his shoulders with a rub at his temple. "Like I said, Chief, we've been trying to figure out how to get to them without losing some of our own. We might be able to fight past the rifts when they're dormant, but unless they're closed up, we're stuck, too." The hand behind my back clenched hard, the pulse in my palm faint and gentle as it had been since the day the Breach had been shut the first time. No other rifts had been sealed since, as Commander Cullen had forbidden it until I had become more proficient with my weapon and less prone to seizures of panic.

Could I do it now?

For Cassandra? Absolutely. Not only on the simple reason that I had grown to love the other woman for her honor and her straight-forward, no-nonsense attitude, but also because I knew for a solid fact that she would burst head first through any rifts just to get to me, regardless of the knowledge that she would have to do so again upon return. My lungs inhaled from the bottom of my stomach and I handed the map back to Aclassi, as Varric had one of our own in his knapsack. Aclassi blinked at me and took the map with a limp hand.

"We'll go southwest and see what we can find." I drew my left hand up and rubbed at my cheek, letting the Mark flash for a moment. "If there's a cabin there with people trapped, I need them to be safe. We'll skirt the mountain line and scout the stronghold but not engage. We'll bring back reports and hopefully figure out how to clear it out." Aclassi's mouth went firm and he nodded. I turned to Solas and the elf nodded as well, stepping away slightly to allow me to walk past him.

My companions followed me, Varric handed me the map before falling back and I checked it against my surroundings before hoofing it through the Crossroads and back in the direction of the first camp before taking a hard turn to go up the hillside instead. Just above the Crossroads and the road leading out toward the west. I turned my feet toward that, and followed it up with the gentle sound of water guiding me.

"Sweetheart?" Varric called from behind. I peered over my shoulder but did not stop my pace to wait. "You alright?"

"I am." I answered, perhaps I was pushing them a bit hard and I was a little too eager to prove that we could do this. If I stopped to think about it now, I would lose my nerve. I had to push. The path was winding and drifted along over a rocky patch of earth before curving again, kissing along a small lake and waterfall. With a blink, I hurried toward the clearing and scouted it. Solas and Bull pulled up along either side of me and both men looked over the expanse of land with a critical eye.

"You guys thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked, my gaze flashed between Bull and Solas. Varric wandered over toward the edge of the clearing and with curiosity, I did, too. A hiccup ricocheted through my ribs and hit my diaphragm as my gaze peered down the sudden slope. Rock climbing had been a hobby of mine, to be sure, but the sheer drop down to the ragged edge below with patches of scorched earth and glittering eyes unnerved me. The fighting must've been intense to leave those scars.

"Good be a good place for a camp." Bull murmured as he wandered over to us. He peered down as well and looked out further, whistling. "If it weren't for the bloodshed, it'd be a great view." My anxiousness was shattered and a snort flooded my nose. Unwillingly amused, my gaze flashed up to his face and narrowed. The best he could give me was a grin. My back turned to the scenery and the map was back in my hands.

"Varric, you got charcoal or something?" I asked. Instantaneously it was produced and placed in my hand. I circled the place on the map were we had come and traced a path to be reminded of it later. Bull had been right, it was an invaluable vantage point and a good place for a secluded camp that could oversee the comings and goings of the road below us. The charcoal and map were pocketed and rolled up, placed away in my oil-cloth bag, and away we went. It was a few more minutes of travel past Calenhad's Foothold, following the sounds of water. We came upon the water source of the waterfall that bled into our marked-off campsite, Lake Luthias.

My gaze scanned over the vision, watching the high sun glance off the surface of the water, broken bridges and decaying docks decorating the edges of the late. We trudged along the path, the men amused as they waited for me when I spotted elfroot and blood lotus to pick up for our healers. From my left there was a towering waterfall with a cave system behind it, shadowed from the daylight. My pause was short to take the time and mark it off on the map as well for later investigation.

"Are those people over there?" Varric murmured. Charcoal poised in my hand, I ducked my head and pattered over to his side. There was a small cabin or storage home that sat at the very edge of the opposite of our shore. A handful of people stood near, shields and swords in their hands. Odd, once more the charcoal and map were placed away. My hand raised and waved to have the men follow me, my finger pressed to my lips to keep them quiet. They don't look like Inquisition or Chargers. What are they doing all the way out here?

We scurried along south of the lake's edge and crossed over the broken, bobbing bridge to reach the other side. As we approached, I picked up the sounds of a stern, echoing voice. It was reminiscent of the presence Commander Cullen had when he barked at the recruits (myself included) during our training. Everything about the scene was odd, as there was only a handful of men (young boys?) and one older gentlemen that paced around them. My company and I straightened from our attempts at stealth and we stayed back amongst the trees, listening.

Solas perked up. "Jaime, could this be the Warden?" I blinked, wondering for a moment how he had known about that until I remembered I had mentioned it back on the Storm Coast. Once again, so many things to remember. My lips dripped into a frown with my arms crossed against my chest, a shoulder dug into the tree I hid behind.

"Maybe?" I whispered back. My shoulders gave a half-hearted shrug. "Doesn't hurt to find out." With a turn of my heel I rolled my shoulder and chest along the trunk of the tree and trekked toward the rundown cabin, the men following at a further distance to keep some element of escape, except for Bull. The man had it in his head that he really was going to be a bodyguard, because there wasn't a time yet that I turned to spy him further than the vision of the corner of my eye. My hand came up and gestured for him to wait, pointing behind me.

It was hilarious to see his nose flare as he obeyed, shoulders stiff.

"Remember how to carry your shields." The broad figure commanded. He was taller than I, perhaps just past the height of Solas but under Cullen, and darkened all around his edges. He deeply reminded me of the old nature survival shows I had seen back in my old world; rough, rugged, and sharp six ways to Sunday. The boys (because now upon closer inspection I could see they were younger than I was) watched with honed focus, their backs ram-rod straight and knees bent to pounce. "You're not hiding, you're holding! Otherwise it's useless!"

Oh yes, I snickered, making my way closer, he and Cullen would get along famously, I think.

"Excuse me. Blackwall?" My voice carried over the small clearing. The man turned on me with the readiness of a snake. I paused, hands raised submissively. "Warden Blackwall?" He prowled up to me, face gone dark. Panic flared up in my chest and gripped my heart, tunneling my vision. There was commotion behind me, a break of something, and then a snap and a snarl I didn't recognize. My body wouldn't turn, though, as there was still the threat of the bearded man that approached me.

"You're not -" He snarled, shield and sword at the ready. "How do you know my name? Who sent -" My spine petrified as his eyes shifted off my face and his legs dipped to lunge at me. Thankfully, I didn't scream, but my eyes shut tight as a thud rang through his shield by my ear into my head. There was another howl of action and my brain sped up to assess that we were being attacked. My eyes opened and the man glared down at me, bared teeth hidden behind his beard.

"That's it." He glared over my shoulder at the attackers and then swiftly brought it back to me. "Help or get out, we're dealing with these idiots first!" The shield came down away from my head and he left me, stranded in my own indignation. I don't know what's more insulting, the fact that he's ignoring the maul on my back or that I was indirectly labeled an idiot? Of all the fucking nerve. I didn't even bother to raise my hand for my maul, now that the present situation was clear for me. Bandits sneaking up at the most unfortunate time with a mildly inconvenienced Qunari Commander to greet them from the trees.

The young boys handled themselves well enough and knew how to stay out of the path of my company as Solas dropped a barrier on the three main fighters; The Iron Bull, himself, and the assumed Warden Blackwall. The fight was over in seconds, Bull had managed to curtail a few of them before the ambush and Solas had them dropped from cold and exhaustion soon after. Varric and Bianca barely shot off an arrow that caught the eye socket of startled bandit.

Leisurely, with all the confidence of a minx (that I was faking, but seriously, who the hell calls someone an idiot they just met?) I walked over and waited, leaned on a cocked hip with my arms crossed. As the last of the bodies dropped, the Bull made a scan of the area and spotted me. A flick of his good eye over my lazy posture and he smirked, marching over to me. He paced around a tree next to me, past the trunk, and came to shadow me from behind, every inch the bodyguard at my back. Solas and Varric ambled over and took up either side and we waited as the bearded man dismissed his small collection of soldiers. Conscripts.

The man turned back to us, eyed us warily and the image we presented, before his eyes focused on me. "You are certainly no farmer. Why do you know my name? Who are you?"

"You know, I appreciate the fact that you stopped an arrow from piercing my skull," my eyes narrowed, arms still crossed over my chest. "But, even the orphanage taught me better manners than that." It changed nothing of his expression. He waited, impatiently stiff and coiled and it was a stand-off. It was a strange, almost exhilarating sensation to be surrounded by my company and watch their shadows play across the ground, sizing each other up. Not that I was power hungry by any means, but there was a certain satisfaction to be had when the people who stood with you had complete confidence in your ability. I wasn't sure what ability that was yet, but the point was made.

"I know your name," I relented, "because I'm an agent of the Inquisition sent to find you." There was a pause and his face was stone cold, Solas shot me a look that wasn't longer than a second. I was getting slightly better at lying as long as it was just omitting certain truths. My gaze flickered over Blackwall's face. He wasn't giving me a fucking inch. Not the customer service type, are you? "I'm investigating whether the disappearance of the Wardens has anything to do with the murder of the Divine." That riled him.

"Maker's balls, the Wardens and the Divine?" He growled. He paced closer to me and there was a shift in weight as Bull stepped closer to my back, glaring down from the top of my head. It was enough to give the Warden pause and he spared us an extra look. "That can't - no, you're asking, so you don't really know." His gaze was intense and added to the description of him I had before; being sharp razor edge with no holster. "First off, I didn't know they disappeared. But we do that, right? No more Blight, job done, Wardens the first thing forgotten. But one thing I'll tell you: no Warden killed the Divine, our position isn't political."

"Easy," I soothed, a hand held out to stop him, "I'm not here to accuse, not yet. I'm just here to find out what happened. Look at it from my side, the Divine dies, the world goes into chaos, and then the Wardens disappear en masse." It placated him slightly and his shoulders relaxed beneath the padded armor he wore. He sighed and ran a hand down his beard.

"I haven't seen another Warden for months." He muttered. It was the first piece of real information, a stepping stone to repairing whatever this mess of a meet-up was, "I travel alone, recruiting. Not much interest because the Archdemon is a decade dead, and no need to conscript because there's no Blight coming." That was if my luck held out. Last thing I needed was a Blight to flare up as we were dealing with this hell-mouth. He leaned away from me, his guard softening. "Treaties give wardens the right to take what we need, who we need. These idiots forced this fight, so I conscripted their victims."

"I'm not arguing against helping people." I replied, feeling the need to defend against his jab.

His mouth turned heavy with a slight frown. "As long as you know that they had to do what I said. I told them to stand. They won't need me next time." I seriously was not going to argue against any veteran teaching the young pups to pick up a sword. I would hope he'd teach them discretion as well as patience. The Inquisition barely had enough energy and people to deal with Templars and mages, we couldn't deal with a sudden influx of wayward, newly hatched swordsmen.

"I understand." This conversation was turning into something else. I may have hit a nerve with my faint accusation of the Wardens being murderers.

Blackwall gave me a nod. "Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are." So I did hit a nerve. My arms unfolded from around my chest and the men relaxed in their stances. A huff escaped me and I took a few cautious steps toward the Warden, treating him much like a cornered animal after the number of times he bared his teeth at me.

"Could you clarify something for me? I wasn't aware that Wardens could just take whatever they wanted." I asked, hoping to break the ice as I stood closer to him. Varric kept his eye on the Warden, Solas looked patiently disinterested and wandered a bit toward the edge of the water, picking at the useful plants near there. The Iron Bull's shadow remained behind me, encasing my own with his frame. He went ignored as Blackwall focused on me, his gaze much more human and patient.

"It's complicated. If there's a Blight, everyone has to help the effort to fight it. The treaties are ancient." He answered evenly. My crash-course history with the Blight and the Wardens had been exactly that; just enough to make it sound like I knew what the hell I had survived through at "sixteen years old." Blackwall shifted and placed a hand on the pommel of his sword stuck in the ground, "Of course, outside of actual Blights, they're as binding as a clever tongue can make it."

I snorted. Certainly Josephine would know what to do with those if she ever got her hands on them. "Do you have any idea where the other Wardens could have gone?" I pressed. Josephine and her clever tongue aside, Leliana had sent me to find the whereabouts of these Wardens and I wasn't about to go home empty handed.

Blackwall shrugged. "Maybe they returned to our stronghold at Weisshaupt? That's in the Anderfels, a long way north." He amended slightly with a nod to me. Right. Orphanage. No travel experience. I drew a steadying inhale as he continued, "I don't really know. Can't imagine why they'd all disappear at once, let alone where they'd disappear to."

Fuck. That gives me shit all.

"Why haven't you gone missing like the rest of them?" I asked pointedly. It was odd that out of all the Wardens there could potentially be in Orlais and Ferelden, only this one remained. How could he have possibly missed the memo? Surely they had some way to stay in contact with each other.

Blackwall stiffened and narrowed his eyes at me. "Well, maybe I was going to. Or maybe there's a new directive, but a runner got lost or something. My job was to recruit on my own. Planned to stay that way for months. Years." Restraint. I needed it badly. My neck was cold and the exhale that shot through my nose was hard. I hated disappointing The Hydra with empty, fruitless excursions. At least I can be on my way to help Cassandra.

"Welp," my lips popped and my right hand rubbed at my temple, "It's been a pleasure, Warden Blackwall, but that helped me not at all." With a glance back at Bull, I rolled my shoulders and waved to Varric and Solas to follow. This was still leading on the path to get around to Cassandra, but I needed to head back to camp and send a bird out to Leliana as soon as possible.

"Inquisition," Blackwall's voice traveled up behind us, "Agent, did you say? Hold a moment." My feet paused and I peered between Bull and Solas, Blackwall made his way up just within a few feet, the presence of Bull keeping him at bay. "The Divine is dead, and the sky torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved."

"... well. It does look that way, yeah." I nodded, my voice quiet.

Blackwall winced, but pushed on. "If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me." I pondered him, stalwart and grizzly. His expression was pinched over his mouth, waiting for my assessment.

"The Inquisition needs all the support it can get, but what can one Grey Warden do?" I asked, curious. Ultimately I wasn't going to turn him away, but if he was the last of what we had, I didn't want to endanger him either. From what Leliana and Cullen had told me, the path to being a Warden was smothered in mystery, passed on by other Wardens to their initiates. Even so.

"Save the fucking world, if pressed." He growled. It startled a laugh out of me, one I quickly smothered with my right hand. His nose scrunched and he bowed his head in apology. "Ma'am. Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn't something I'm practiced at, but show me someone who is. And like I said, there are treaties. Maybe there isn't a Blight, but it's bloody well a disaster. Someone will honor them. Being a Warden means something to a lot of people."

Josephine will find someone, I know that much. He was earnest and rough around all his edges. The desperation in his voice made it clear he wanted to help, wanted to do something, and was far more eager to throw his blade at the demons than most others I had come across. I sobered briefly, a stark realization coming to mind; he would have made a far better Herald than I.

Sadly, I smiled at him and bowed my head briefly. "Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer."

"Good to hear." Relief flooded his bones and he loosened from his hardened stance. "We both need to know what's going on, and perhaps I've been keeping to myself for too long." He nodded his head at me, a hard line to his mouth, stern and steady. "This Warden walks with the Inquisition."

Varric snorted from behind, his face popping up near my hip. "So. Is anyone going to tell him he swore at the Herald of Andraste?"

"I did what?" Blackwall choked, voice rough in surprise. His eyes bounced between all of us before they landed, almost in shame, on me. I grinned and raised my left hand in a wave, the Mark an easy glow that pulsed in my palm and fluttered under my fingers. Blackwall paled and cleared his throat hard, his head tipped low in another bow.

"Herald." He grunted, chastened. My hand whipped out and smacked an extremely amused Varric on the shoulder as he made a hasty retreat behind me. Blackwall straightened, "You'll have to forgive me, it's been a while since I've been in polite company."

It was Bull's turn to snort, highly entertained. "Don't worry about it, Warden. The Herald's got a mouth on her that would make a sailor hesitate."

"Excuse you," I muttered with a jab of my elbow into his stomach (that's as far as I could reach, yikes), he twitched slightly, chuckling. I smiled winningly at Blackwall and ignored all of my companions. "Jaime Welton, and really, it was a pleasure. If you'd like - wait a second." There was a pulse from my hand, deep and sharp. It was quick, a flash out of the corner of my eye, my voice dropped as a flare shot from the ruined fort in Calenhad's Foothold. My hand lit up, burning to my bones.

A rift had just torn itself open.

"Change of plans," I said with desperation choked at the base of my tongue. I hadn't realized I started running toward the green light, the Mark on my hand pulsing hard and whispers echoing through my head.

It's now or never.