I own nothing of Dragon Age. Just Amilee.

Lots of conversation in this chapter, so hope it isn't too boring for you.

"So I got edges that scratch, and sometimes I don't got a filter, but I'm so tired of eating all of my misspoken words, I know my disposition gets confusing, my disproportionate reactions fuse with my eager state, that's why you wanna come out and play with me..." -Beggin for Thread by Banks

-One week later, Skyhold War Room-

After a tentative overview of what happened in the Fade, the others demanded she explain herself and Amilee finally caved.

It is very hard to describe to people how you're from another world. It opens one to criticism, fear, and mistrust, much like what she experienced when she stood before the whole of the Inner Circle and explained how she had come to be in Thedas.

Reactions, of course, were varied.

Varric already knew and, having witnessed a glimpse of the world from her Faded nightmare, further reinforced the truth of her words. It made him uncomfortable, but he certainly benefited from the tales the girl had written with him, nevermind their familial history, so he didn't care very much.

Herah and Josephine acknowledged Amilee's story as truth, but were quite distraught she hadn't confided in them sooner.

Cass and Leliana were both reserved and appalled by the notion that she came from a world with no Maker. Amilee didn't feel the desire to discuss Christianity with them, as she herself didn't retain any beliefs, so she let it remain thus.

Vivienne was disbelieving that a world without magic could be possible, but curious of its economical and political aspects.

Sera was plain dumbfounded, shaking her head in denial in the beginning, but stood firmly at the end that Amilee was just another person and shouldn't be treated any different.

Dorian's only concern was that they keep her gift hidden, knowing if word got out about its origin, Tevinter and other countries would vie for her capture to either destroy or use her to their advantage.

The Iron Bull was strangely silent, unable to deny what he himself had witnessed in the Fade. Herah specifically requested he not tell the Ben-Hassrath about this, lest it incited a panic among the Qunari. He agreed with that notion wholeheartedly.

Solas wanted to ask many questions, none more curious of the scientific and philosophical differences her world had in comparison to theirs. It took a collective exasperated sigh from the others for him to cease going off on any more tangents.

True to a Warden's mindset, Blackwall believed that her origin was of no consequence, only that she was there and helping them to restore order. Cullen had a somewhat similar perspective, trusting that Amilee's character was sound and that Thedas was all the better for her presence.

Not surprisingly, Cole was the most accepting, only estranged by the fact the Fade and spirits didn't exist there, which she had already mentioned to him a few days ago when he'd asked.

All in all, Amilee felt more than a bit like a circus freak, everyone poking and prodding with questions and concerns that made her very uncomfortable. Thankfully, Herah closed the conversation with a promise that nothing would change between them, and that everyone was to continue treating her as an equal. Amilee was still the Guardian and, as far as she and the advisers were concerned, she was the rightful second in command of the Inquisition.

Once the Inner Circle dispersed, Herah pulled Amilee to the side.

"I know you've been asked this before but are you really alright? You're sure you're not still under the effects of the red lyrium?"

Shrugging, the small mages response was quiet, "I know you're all worried, Herah, but I'm fine. I don't hear the whispers anymore. But I'll need a new runestone if I am to venture out with you anywhere."

"We have an Arcanist on their way to the keep," Saytie nodded with reassurance. "From what I heard, they can forge almost anything. They should be here by the end of the week, but in the meantime, keep that lyrium chunk with you."

"I know," Amilee mused, patting the pocket that protruded from it's contents on her cloak.

"I'm sorry, I know you're quite ready to retire for the evening but I do have one more question. It's important."

"What is it?"

"I've already spoken to the others about this, so it's been left up to you. Now that we have so many allies to accompany us, do you think it appropriate that we split the circle? I know you are unable to close any rifts, that is my burden alone unfortunately. But I would be remiss in assuming I can handle every little side mission and minor request from the local populace once the rifts have been cleared. For example, a lot of the refugees at the Crossroads still need help, and I am unable to make the time to assist..."

"Yeah, I can see what you're getting at. With the Inquisition forces trying to recover from Haven, it would be difficult to send them all out to fulfill such a scattered amount of requisitions. Better that it be a leader of the Inquisition displaying sympathy for their concerns anyhow, we'd obtain more agents that way. I would not object to this."

"Good. That's settle then. I'll see you on the morrow, Guardian?"

"Sure thing, Inquisitor."

Amilee glanced around her sparse, but roomy quarters with barely veiled disgust. Once their forces had settle into the holding, Amilee had been graced with her very own watch tower, located next to Cullen's office that overlooked the entrance to Skyhold and the vast mountain range beyond.

It was not the generosity of her peers that had brought forth her annoyance, but the sheer amount of space she had to fill. Scraps of metal and cloth were dispersed about, rotting floorboards, dilapidated and dusty shelving, and a crumbling ceiling, all without a speck of furniture save for her cot on the upper floor. It was going to take time for her to clean it up, never mind commissioning the repairs necessary and ordering the furniture she desired. Vivienne had insisted on her motivation, otherwise she would have the First Enchanter butting in and doing it herself. With all the posh fashion and luxury that woman was accustomed to, Amilee was certain she would definitely not find comfort in her own room if she let the woman have her way with it.

She could already picture the way she would prefer. As she had at the Hawke mansion, she would make these rooms reminiscent of her old life, before she'd come to this world.

The first floor would have a plush sofa and chair in the far corner with dark wooden coffee table, tucked behind a modern style bookcase that separated the living space from the rest of the room without completely blocking her view of the door. Under the stairway to the second floor, which you could reach just by walking in, would be her white oak writing desk. Varric had salvaged and stored it in case she would ever ask for it, knowing the intricate carvings of flowers and vines she had taken the time to apply to the edging and legs made it sentimental to her. The only commission she was hesitant in asking for was opening up the wall to the left for a full size balcony, like Herah had in her room.

The second floor would also be opened up, but rather than a balcony, she wanted a small cathedral style window that faced away from the sunrise, which would cast light over the headboard of a platformed bed, Orlesian in coloring, but nothing more. The platform would contain hidden compartments, an add on she devised to hide things she didn't want anyone to find. Well, anyone but Cole.

While she knew he couldn't hear her, she was very aware he could pick up thoughts and feelings from certain objects he touched. She couldn't hide anything materialistic from him unless she burned it. For instance, her journal, which had accounted the past few years of her travels, her thoughts and feelings about those she had killed, met, or otherwise missed. It had been written in the alphabet of this world, a practice Leliana had insisted upon so she could write legible reports and missives.

As soon as they had returned to Haven after Therinfall, she had sought the book out and immediately destroyed it, sure that the young man would manage to find it and bombard her with questions she wasn't ready to answer.

Speak of the devil, as she turned away from her cot to commence with her undressing, Cole gaze at her from the landing, frozen as if unsure it was right for him to be there. "I wanted to ask you more about what happened. When you came to be here," he started quickly.

"There really isn't anymore, Cole," Amilee sighed, taking a seat at her cot. "Quite frankly, I'm burnt out from talking about it.

He hung his head, taking a few steps forward. "It's just... You're like me. We came from a different place, lost in a world that wasn't very kind to our presence. I... know how that feels, I think. Does it hurt?"

"For a while, it did. My family will never know what happened to me." She let out a humorless laugh. "At first, I would feel terrible, every time I felt happy when they were probably miserable, thinking I was dead. But life goes on... They probably did too, eventually."

"Wouldn't they want you to be happy?"

She smiled wistfully. "Yeah, hun. They would. And I'd want the same for them... It had to have been harder on you, I'd imagine. You didn't have anyone to miss."

He took a few more steps and crouched down before her, tracing the groves of the wooden floor. His voice was quiet when he spoke a moment later, "I had a friend for a while. Rhys could see me, remember when no one else could." His expression became pained. "But he got upset when he found out I had killed people. And when he found out what I was, he couldn't look at me. I lost him."

"I'm so sorry, hun," she murmured, bringing her hand to her heart as it constricted painfully. Her own memories came forth and she redirected her pain to those memories. "I lost a friend too. An elf named V'lartha. She taught me to speak Tevene for the magister we... belonged to. When I killed the magister, we escaped his mansion and she smuggled me to Kirkwall. We had originally planned to stick together but... we didn't have enough to pay for both of us. She had a blood mage put me to sleep before I could argue and they shipped me off, alone. I never even got to say goodbye. My brother tried to find her for me, but the trail was cold by the time he paid the investigator to do so. I wish I knew what happened to her." She sat back, giving him a calculating stare. "We could track down Rhys for you, if you like."

"No," was the young man's low reply. "He has Evangeline to protect him now. Better that they stay away and forget about me."

"Alright, hun," she lied slowly. He hadn't see Rhys' words in the letter two years before. If he knew Rhys wondered about him... But that would reveal her history with all of them and that was the last thing she wanted him to find out now.

But that didn't mean she couldn't seek their whereabouts. At least to make sure they were okay.

After wishing Cole a goodnight, he left her there, lying awake and praying that the nightmares didn't come when she finally passed out.

Bill, Merchants Guild, bill, bill...

Grumbling to himself, Varric tossed the stack of missives on the table. When did life get so serious that he couldn't have a moment peace from business. Even Josephine was hounding him about helping her write to Orzammar, first on the list of things he really had no desire to deal with. He'd have to start a regular night of Wicked Grace soon or he was going to stoop to pranks like Sera just to find amusement.

Suddenly, there was a cloud of smoke and Cole stood before him, twisting his fingers together nervously.

While he wasn't quite used to the young man's disappearing reappearing act, it didn't alarm the dwarf so much anymore. "Hey, Kid. What's on your mind?"

"You said you would show me how to help Amilee," Cole prompted, not really sure how to continue the conversation from there.

"I did indeed. Did you find out something that's bothering her?"

Nodding eagerly, Cole continued, "She misses a friend called V'lartha. They met when she first came here, but they were separated." The boy sat abruptly in the chair across from him, or rather perched on the edge as his knee bounced, as if agitated.

"Pretty sure I remember Hawke inquiring about someone for her, but nothing came of it."

Cole paused for a moment. "Anders grating on her nerves, discontent, despondent, despairing. Hurt hidden but not. Need to distract her, give her a reason to be happy again. Like Varric when he praises her stories, but it has to mean more so she remembers I'm here for her too. A brother she deserves... With anyone else, I would be able to touch the thread that tied two people together, find them, let them know, but with her I can't see... Can you help?"

Rubbing his chin in thought, Varric sat back and pondered for a minute. "The elf was related to a smuggler named Athenril, she might have a better idea where she might have gone. I can also collaborate with my contacts in the Free Marches, have them ask around. You could ask Dorian too. He might have someone in Tevinter who would be willing to look into it as well."

"What devious machinations are you volunteering me for now, Varric?" the well dressed mage jeered as he approached the table.

"How do you always just happen to be passing by every time I talk about you, Sparkler?"

"The premonition makes my feet itch, apparently. So what is it I'm supposed to be finding out?"

Cole brought his head down shyly. "Finding someone Amilee misses so she won't be sad anymore."

"Ah, I see. And I assume since we are looking in Tevinter, this person must have been under the 'employ' of the magister that kept her captive?"

"An elven slave that tutored her to speak Tevene," Varric elaborated.

"Ooo, that means we can gossip without anyone knowing what we say! The scandal. You must realize that a slave escaping soon after the death of their magister would be hard pressed to escape slave hunters. We might very well find the poor woman had been executed and this would be all for naught."

This made Cole still his ticks, sinking back and down in his chair, defeated, until Varric replied, "Now, now, Sparkler. Don't go raining on the poor kid's parade before it even starts. We can at least try instead of assuming the worst."

"I suppose. Give me some time. I'll have to be delicate in my query when drugging up old news like this. Otherwise it might raise suspicions."

"Thank you, Dorian!" the young man voiced merrily as he stood abruptly. "She should be happy." With that being said, he poofed out of sight.

Dorian's mustache curled in a wry smile. "He's rather like a runt puppy you save from starving, isn't he?"

"More or less," Varric chuckled. "But then it grows on you and before you know it, it has everyone wrapped around it's stumpy little paw."

"Not with that hat. Where the devil did he find that thing anyway?"

"Who knows?" the dwarf shrugged, smirking.

Cole's learning ahead of time how to help others the conventional way. :)

I figured out I've been inaccurate in the title for the language of Tevinter. It's Tevene, rather that Imperium. I'm too lazy to go back and sift through my fanfics to change it sooooo yeah. -_-