"First Impressions"

It was a month before Tillie Parrish finally arrived at Haven. Coincidentally, the inner circle had just returned from Redcliffe mere days beforehand, as per her recommendation, and their investigation had gained them the assistance of the mages, a new companion, and insight into the Venatori. But Elleri didn't think she'd ever truly get over the nightmares caused by the things she'd seen in the twisted future she and Dorian had been thrown into.

Watching the others sacrifice themselves for her, in a last-ditch attempt to prevent the future that awaited them if she and Dorian didn't escape was a series of images burned into her memory, and she would not—could not—let herself forget it. She could do nothing to help these people she had only recently begun to think of as friends.

Cassandra had been just starting to warm up to her, and not see her as the killer everyone in the Chantry believed her to be. The strong, determined woman whom Elleri herself admired for her confidence and willingness to do what must be done, even if that included suspecting her as a murderer when they first met. But what else was she to think? The Conclave was destroyed, the Temple of Sacred Ashes a smouldering hole in the ground, and a Dalish elf had just emerged from a rift in the fade, the only survivor of it all. Though Elleri had been indignant at first, she later understood Cassandra's frustration, and that she just wanted answers, and Elleri could not hold that against her.

Then, the bloodied body of Solas being dragged in through the doors and thrown unceremoniously on the floor before her, taunting her, his eyes locked open and void of life, and not a damn thing she was able to do about it was a sight that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Solas, who had saved her life before she had even met him, and even more since with a well-timed barrier when she needed it most. A man who stayed with the Inquisition out of a desire to help, despite the threat to his life as an apostate. The one person who humoured her prodding curiosity and did his best to answer all of her questions, frequent as they were—and enjoyed it. She was inquisitive to the point where some would even call her a busybody, but Solas seemed to appreciate that about her, and that was rare. He understood that she was only trying to satisfy her own curiosity when she asked the occasionally prodding questions that some may refuse to answer out of a fear that she would spread it around. But that wasn't who Elleri was, and when she made that clear to him, he was much more forthcoming. He still had secrets; that much was clear. But she would not ask him for more than he was willing to give. People were allowed to have secrets, as long as they did not threaten the wellbeing of anyone else, and being trusted with that secret was a heavy responsibility that Elleri took very seriously. There was something else there, too, though. She had not allowed herself to think too hard about it, but seeing him dead on the floor of Redcliffe Castle, a Venatori sword protruding from his gut, his tunic soaked through with his blood, had sent a shock of grief through her that was different than the one she had felt for the others. It was like her heart had stopped altogether before being jump-started back to life and she remembered all-too-well the burning sensation in the back of her eyes as they locked onto his. I'm sorry I wasn't here, Solas. I'm so sorry.

Inquisition scouts alerted the advisors of Tillie's approach and, shaking the memories from her mind, Elleri moved to greet her at the village gates, but found Varric already there, waiting for her. Ignoring her initial curiosity, she hung back and allowed their meeting to occur uninterrupted, and simply watched, her back leaning up against the door to her cabin. The bow that had been mounted above the mantle in Tillie's house was slung over her shoulder and a quiver made from dark leather was hanging from the belt at her waist. She was clad in a heavy cloak and thick breeches with tall boots stretching over her knees similar to the ones she'd worn in Val Royeaux, but these looked thicker. Warmer. Varric said something to her as she walked through the gates, but she just responded with a heavy roll of her eyes before he gestured for her to walk with him with that charming grin he was so known for.

"Welcome, Tillie." She said as they passed by the area in front of her cabin, giving her a gracious bow of her head and a look that said they would speak later. Tillie simply smiled and returned it and the two continued on their way.

When Varric said something that caused the woman to groan and exclaim, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" Elleri had to fight back a grin. Varric had a knack for talking people into things, and she could already see the friendship brewing between them.

She found Tillie again later, in the Chantry, checking out a selection of books from one of the bookshelves. She had removed one and had it turned over in her hands, reading the excerpt on the back cover. When she saw Elleri approach from the side, she slid the book back into place on the shelf before turning to face her fully.

"I assume Varric gave you the tour."

Tillie nodded, "Y'know, Haven is pretty small. There's so much going on, well, everywhere."

"Feeling suffocated?"

She let out a quiet breath of laughter, "My house in Val Royeaux was no mansion, but it was mine. I guess I just miss having a place to go where there was no one around, to read, or write, or whatever. I'm not the most comfortable around crowds."

"There is an office downstairs, if you're interested." Elleri offered, "I assume it's supposed to belong to the prison warden, but the last prisoner we had was me, and we're sort of short-handed as it is. I don't think anyone would take issue with you staying down there. The office itself is kind of nice, if you can get past the dungeon that's literally right next to it."

"I'll look into it. Thanks." Tillie's mouth canted upwards in a smirk, "So I see you got the help of the mages."

"Yes, we did." Elleri suppressed a shudder, "Although, I'm not sure I'll ever really get past what happened there. If not for Dorian, I'd have been killed along with my friends in a desolate future that will give me nightmares for the rest of my life."

The human woman's brow creased in confusion, "Did you say 'future'?"

She nodded, "Luckily, we now know what The Elder One is planning so that we can prevent it before any of the things I saw ever happens."

"Time magic? I'm sorry, I just—I didn't even know that was possible."

She shrugged, "Let's just say it was... highly experimental."

"I see." Tillie's eyes narrowed, but Elleri changed the subject before she could speak further.

"When he was showing you around, did Varric make any introductions to the rest of our friends?"

"He started to, but then I think he noticed how tired I was." She explained, "So then he just brought me to Harritt so he could adjust my armour. It fits, but it's been a while since I last had to wear it, so it could use some slight adjustments."

"Good. Harritt will have you all set by the time we leave again. In the meantime, you might want to check out that office in the basement and get some time to yourself. I have a feeling Varric's going to drag us all out to the tavern this evening for some Diamondback in an attempt to coax you further into the inner circle."

"Oh fantastic. Because I'm such a people-person."

"We're not as bad as you might think, I promise, and you can leave whenever you wish."

Tillie sighed and her shoulders lifted in a small shrug, "Then I guess I'll meet you there."

Later in the evening, they had slid two tables together in order to fit everyone who had been coaxed into attending by Varric. Even Solas had shown up, though he was characteristically quiet and adamantly refusing to be dealt into the game. Just when Elleri was starting to wonder if she'd show, Tillie walked through the doors and immediately, her eyes landed on the gathering of misfits seated at a table that practically reached across the whole tavern. There was a moment of hesitation in her movements until Elleri waved her over while she and Varric slid over on their bench so she could sit on the end—giving her an escape route if she needed one.

"This is Tillie," Elleri said as the woman sat down, "we met her in Val Royeaux. She's the one who gave us the tip on what was happening in Redcliffe."

"So you're the one who led the Inquisition to Redcliffe." Dorian said from his position across from Elleri, "You have my thanks. Things surely would not have turned out as well as they did had the Inquisition not shown up."

"This is Dorian." Elleri explained, "He's the one who helped me sort out what happened in Redcliffe."

Tillie greeted the man with a nod.

"On the end over there is Sera." She gestured to the elf, who had her seat balanced precariously on its back legs, her feet mounted on the table. At the mention of her name, Sera simply raised an eyebrow at the woman from where she sat as Elleri continued, "We met her the same day we met you—just after we left your house, actually. She's an archer, too."

"Good, right?" Was all the young elf said.

"Sounds like a lot of things happened in Val Royeaux that day." Tillie said, letting out a small laugh.

"It took us forever to get back to Haven." Elleri replied with a scoff, "Next, we have Blackwall, you've met Solas already, and—"

"Me." The giant Qunari reached a hand across the table and the two clasped forearms—Bull being markedly more enthusiastic about it than she—as Tillie looked at him in surprise, "They call me The Iron Bull."

Her eyes wide, Tillie looked as if she was searching for words until she finally choked out, "A pleasure," as Bull released her hand.

Lavellan moved on as if nothing even happened, "And finally, you've met Cassandra."

The woman in question looked at Tillie with guarded eyes. Although the information she'd given them about Redcliffe was accurate, it was clear that the warrior was in no way ready to trust her. But that was not surprising; she was only just beginning to warm up to Elleri herself.

"And, as you know, this is the Herald of Andraste." Varric chimed in, and Elleri met his gaze with a scowl.

"Just Lavellan, please." She looked pointedly at Tillie, "I'm not the Herald of anything. I don't know who was behind me when I came through that rift, but I certainly doubt it was Andraste."

Varric shrugged, "Can't change public opinion—not now anyway, after everything that's happened. Might as well run with it."

"I'm Dalish!" Elleri protested, "I don't even believe in the Maker!"

"Try telling that to the people." He said, and she just dropped her head into her hands and groaned, but she could hear Tillie laughing softly from beside her.

"Anyway," Elleri grumbled, changing the subject and tossing glare Varric's way when she looked up before meeting Tillie's gaze again, "Vivienne isn't here tonight, but you've probably seen her milling about the chantry."

"She's the one who basically breathes ice." Bull added, "Like a dragon. A cold-ass dragon."

Tillie laughed again, and Elleri could almost see the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away. The way to loosen up this particular woman was through humour, it was clear. She had already experienced a hint of Tillie's sarcasm, and she knew it was just a matter of time before she was cracking off jokes like the rest of them, and the friendship already becoming evident in the interactions she shared with Varric couldn't hurt either.

Yes, Elleri thought to herself with a grin, she'll fit in nicely.