Chapter 3
Rebekah groaned as she plopped onto a large boulder on the side of the road. She lifted her right foot, pulled the leather boot off, flipped it upside down, and began to shake it. She heard, more than saw, the small pebble as it tumbled out of her shoe and onto the dirt road.
"No wonder your feet hurt," Varric joked with a laugh, coming to stand beside her. He pulled Bianca from the holster across his back and propped it up on the boulder. "How'd you manage to get rocks in your shoes?"
Rebekah lowered a playful glare towards her companion as dropped her shoe unceremoniously onto the ground and began rotating her ankle, her fingers kneading the sore flesh of her foot.
Cassandra strolled up to them, retrieved Rebekah's boot from the ground and flipped it over to look at the sole. "There's a hole," she explained simply. "We'll need to get this repaired or purchase new ones when we get to the Crossroads."
"Between the journey to the Conclave and our current expedition, I'm not surprised," Solas piped up, coming to rest beside them, staff in hand.
They had been traveling for five days, forced to travel on foot because they lacked the horses for the journey. As they had left Haven Leliana had suggested that they find Scout Harding, who apparently had an idea of where they could acquire a supply of horses for the Inquisition moving forward.
Only Varric had openly complained about having to walk. They were tasked with travelling from Haven to a nondescript village called the Crossroads, in the Hinterlands, where scouts had reported sightings of Mother Giselle.
Mother Giselle would be their first contact in the Inquisition's efforts to ally with either the rebel mages or the Templars. She was more open-minded than many of her compatriots, having expressed a willingness to speak with the so-called Herald of Andraste. She had taken up residence at the Crossroads, about a day's ride south of Redcliff and was assisting the local healers with the wounded.
Tension between the people in the area was high. They had been had received reports at Haven of the fighting occurring not just between mages and Templars, but of both parties attacking the locals. Those who had been displaced, or sought to escape the fighting, had fled to the small village and Mother Giselle had arrived soon after the destruction of the Conclave.
Their group had heard some fighting as they had traveled the mountainous path from Haven to the Hinterlands, but had yet to join the fray. Rebekah hoped that they would make it all the way to Mother Giselle without incident.
Rebekah reached her hand out and Cassandra passed her the boot, which Rebekah pulled back on her foot. She stood and tested her weight on the shoe, pressing around to ensure that no rocks remained.
"Shall we continue?" Rebekah addressed the group. Cassandra didn't even respond, just giving a brief nod and continuing on the downward-sloping path, her sword swinging at her hip.
"Not much of a break," Varric replied, rolling his shoulders before picking Bianca back up and placing her back in the holster.
"We're almost there, I think," Rebekah responded, patting Varric on the back.
She also longed for a break. In the five days since they had left, they had spent a majority of the time walking, at Cassandra's insistence. She had argued that the more they walked each day, the earlier they would arrive at their destination. Rebekah couldn't fault her logic, but life in the tower had not prepared her for long distance traveling on foot.
By the end of day one, Rebekah had acquired large blisters on the back of both feet. By the end of day two, she had begun to feel a stinging pain around her shins. Her back, shoulders, and neck ached every moment. She could also tell that the sun had burned the pale skin of her face by how taut and dry it felt. Varric had teased her one night as they sat around the campfire, saying that she looked as red as a tomato. Rebekah vowed to search among the vendors for an aloe plant to help with the sunburn.
The journey from the tower to Haven had been less arduous. The mages and Templars had moved at a slow pace and had traveled with better gear and provisions. It had still been a miserable march, but had been leagues better than Rebekah's current experience.
Pebbles crunched beneath their shoes as they continued walking, the sun peaking overhead.
Rebekah walked quietly beside Varric and listened to the song that he hummed to himself. She nodded along to the tune, recognizing it as one of the songs that the bard frequently sang at the tavern back in Haven. She was so intently listening to Varric that she didn't notice the environment becoming completely silent, but she did notice Cassandra ahead of them coming to a complete stop. Her back stiffened, her right hand resting on the pommel of her sword.
That was when Rebekah smelled it, something burning.
Rebekah, Varric, and Solas continued down the path to the spot where Cassandra had stopped. She was listening intently, waiting for any hint of fighting on the road ahead, but they heard nothing.
"Stay alert. We don't know what is ahead of us," Cassandra spoke quietly, in an effort to keep her voice from carrying in the silence. The rest of them nodded, retrieving their weapons.
They stepped off of the path, walking into the short grass beside it in an attempt to make their approach quieter. They grouped tighter together in a diamond, Cassandra in front, Rebekah and Solas shoulder to shoulder in the middle, Varric bringing up the rear with Bianca in hand.
They continued down cautiously, scanning their surroundings. Rebekah tried to remain calm, tried to adopt the attitudes that she saw in her companions. She wanted to be as confident as Cassandra, as calm as Solas, and as stealthy as Varric. Instead, she was the one stepping on every possible twig that hid among the grass, the one breathing heavily as adrenaline raced through her body, the one with sweaty palms gripping so tightly around her staff that her knuckles had turned white.
After what felt like forever, they began to hear the sounds of fighting. Metal clanged on metal, the pop of wood burning, the cries of men and women as the battle raged.
"Inquisition soldiers!" Cassandra cried out suddenly, dropping all pretense of hiding as she pulled her sword out of its sheath. "They must be trying to protect the village. We must help! Stay on your guard and protect the Herald." Then Cassandra raced forward, pulling her shield from her back and charging for the nearest opponent.
Solas took up position behind a nearby stonewall that ran alongside the path, already preparing to launch his first spell. Varric stayed where he was, guarding Rebekah's back, bolts already flying from his crossbow.
Ahead of them, Rebekah could make out the Inquisition soldiers that Cassandra had spotted as well as what appeared to be a handful of mages and Templars. Two huts burned, mere husks of what they had once been, and fiery wooden planks littered the field of battle.
"Come on, kid," Varric shouted at her, jolting Rebekah out of her thoughts. "We need you too."
"Right," she muttered more to herself, staring down at her sweaty palms gripped around her staff before lifting her gaze to the enemy.
"I've never had to use magic against people," she thought to herself as she rallied her magic. She could feel the familiar stirring within her as her magic rose to her call, sparks of lightning arced along her staff.
Rebekah watched, frozen, as the enemy rushed to engage Cassandra and the other Inquisition soldiers. Her magic pulsed within her, waiting for the spell that would release the energy that slowly began to build.
She watched as swords sliced into flesh, the metal shining with the wet red of blood. She watched as men and women writhed in pain, lightning like her own skipping along their skin. She watched as enemy and ally alike fell to the ground, wounded or dead. And still, despite what she was witnessing, she could not bring herself to move.
"Herald!" she heard Solas shout, the voice sounding far away. She looked to her right, watched as he fired another volley of spells towards a Templar rushing towards their position.
Rebekah felt her stomach tighten and she gripped her staff harder. Despite Solas's efforts, the Templar did not stop; he stomped determinedly through the grass towards her and Varric. Varric, behind her, sent bolt after bolt towards the man, but they all glanced harmlessly off of the massive tower shield.
Without a second thought, Rebekah summoned her magic. Blistering cold settled over her and she became coated in a blue glow. She turned, took a step forward and allowed her magic to wrap around her. She stepped through the fade and flew away from the battlefield and back to the path they had abandoned.
It wasn't until she looked around her that she realized what a stupid decision she had made. While she had been moderately hidden among the trees, now she stood out in the open with nothing, and no one, to guard her from an attack.
Swear words flew through her mind as she tried to decide what to do.
She couldn't run back to where she had been, she couldn't run forward toward the center of the fight, and she couldn't run back and leave her companions without her.
"As if you've been making much of a difference. You haven't even been able to fire off a single spell," she berated herself. The longer she stood in the open alone, the more her fear mounted.
"Do something," she whispered fervently to herself, tightening her hands around staff as she fought her fear. She took one harsh exhale through the mouth before charging forward and into the fray.
She could see that several Templars were still engaged in battle with the Inquisition soldiers. Cassandra was far ahead of her, her sword clashing with the Templars dagger and longsword.
Closer to her, Rebekah caught sight of an Inquisition soldier being bombarded with blows, his opponent hacking aggressively with his great sword.
"Him," Rebekah thought to herself, selecting her target.
She grasped at the magic that swirled just within reach; the magic shuttered out of her in a burst, several balls of lightning crackling as they surged towards the undefended back of the Templar.
The balls of purple energy undulated and dipped through the air before finding the target.
The man stiffened, his arms froze in place with the shock.
The pause gave the Inquisition soldier enough time to slide his sword up to the unguarded skin of the Templars neck, severing the artery.
The Templar went down in a heap.
Rebekah shook, a mix of pride and shame swirling in her heart.
She registered movement out of the corner of her eye and suddenly her fear returned as she saw the same Templar with the tower shield surge towards her. She braced herself, calling up a barrier, but knew that it wouldn't do much to stop him.
She heard a thunk and the Templar stopped in his tracks before tipping forward, a crossbow bolt jutted from his back.
"Where did you go running off to?" she heard Varric calling to her, and she lifted her eyes from the Templar to see him jogging over, Bianca still gripped in his hands. He had an angry red imprint across his face and his brow had been split, blood poured down the side of his face.
She heard the parting of air before she saw the arrow.
She saw the shaft sticking out of her shoulder before she felt the pain.
She saw Varric's eyes widen. "Get down," he shouted, and Rebekah immediately dropped to the ground, a second arrow whizzing over her.
"Find the archer!" she heard Cassandra shouting.
Varric rushed past the remaining distance between them and gripped Rebekah's injured shoulder to assess the damage. "You'll be fine," he kept muttering to himself. Rebekah hoped that he was right.
"Maker's breath, just pull it out already," Rebekah yelled at Solas, the pain from her shoulder making it difficult to keep quiet.
"As you wish," he replied. He brought his staff up, using the blade to saw the arrow in half. Black spots danced in Rebekah's vision and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.
Once the arrow was split, Solas slowly pulled it out.
"Fuckin' Maker," Rebekah cursed, her Denerim accent coming out.
"You've got some mouth on you, Herald," Varric joked, hoping some levity would help improve the situation. Solas had already tended to his wounds.
"I've heard enough from you for one day, Varric," Cassandra retorted, rounding on him, her hands clenched into fists. "You were specifically instructed to guard her, how exactly did she end up out in the open, undefended?"
"Don't point the finger at me, Seeker. She ran off," Varric replied calmly. "Not that I blame her, she was scared. Did you ever think to ask her if she had experience in a fight before sending her out here?"
"Please, stop arguing," Rebekah said through clenched teeth as Solas gingerly pulled her arm through her sleeve, exposing the pale white skin and the puckered red skin around her wound. His hands began to glow a very faint blue, pulsing with healing magic. When the aura came into contact with her skin, the pain began to subside and she sighed in relief.
"Ugh," Cassandra huffed, throwing her hands in the air.
"He's right," Rebekah began, looking up apologetically at Cassandra. "I was scared so I ran. The fault is mine."
"Then I am as much as fault as you are," Cassandra sighed, her gray eyes meeting Rebekah's blue ones. "I should not have assumed that you were trained to fight. We'll need to arrange something, some training with the soldiers once we return to Haven. Until then, you'll train with me once a day. We will make sure that this doesn't happen again."
"I'm sorry," Rebekah said to them all, lowering her head in shame.
"Don't sweat it, kid," Varric replied with a soft smile, with a familiar sympathetic look.
Rebekah didn't tell them how frustrated she felt at her own helplessness. Out of the dozen enemies they had encountered, she had only fired one spell. She knew that the blast hadn't had enough energy to kill the man, so she was thankful that the Inquisition soldier had been there to take the killing blow.
"What am I going to do? How am I going to help anyone if I can't even protect myself?"
"All done," Solas proclaimed, the blue glow fading away. The wound was almost completely healed. The only reminder was the faintly red skin where the tear had been. "Do be more careful next time." He rolled her shoulder gently, testing the tendons and muscles and declared her fit to continue, before standing and walking away.
The group made the rest of the journey in a heavy silence. Cassandra, ever the vigilant warrior, led the group, her stance even more rigid than before the fight.
It took roughly an hour to reach the Crossroads. They found Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the make-shift infirmary.
"Mother Giselle?" Cassandra approached the dark-skinned woman wearing chantry robes and a rather tall hat.
The woman looked up at Cassandra, lips pursing. "Surely you are not the Herald of Andraste, Seeker. If so, then we have all been greatly misinformed."
Cassandra scoffed. "I am not the Herald."
"Then you are not the one that I agreed to speak to," Mother Giselle replied, turning back to her patient.
Cassandra turned on her heel, her gaze burning through Rebekah as she gestured her forward.
"A-apologies," Rebekah choked out as Varric nudged her forward.
Mother Giselle looked up again, and Rebekah could see that she was smiling. "You are the Herald of Andraste then?"
"I-I am, though I don't prefer do go by that name," Rebekah responded, wringing her hands.
"Do you not believe?" Mother Giselle asked, and Rebekah was reminded of the similar conversation she'd had with Leliana.
"I don't know what I believe," Rebekah replied truthfully.
Mother Giselle nodded, turning to face Rebekah fully. "But, I did not ask you here simply to discuss the events that brought you here."
"Why am I here?" Rebekah asked, truly puzzled. Leliana had not explained why she believed that Mother Giselle would be the first step in recruiting allies, just that she could be.
"I know of the Chantry's denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it," Mother Giselle explained, motioning for Rebekah to follow her as she walked towards the edge of the plateau that overlooked the village. "I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people senselessly taken from us."
"It is difficult to truly comprehend how many were lost," Rebekah agreed, her memories drifting to the faces of the mages from Kinloch Hold who had traveled to the conclave with her. "I never even had time to mourn them," she thought to herself as a brief silence settled between them.
"Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason," Mother Giselle continued. "Go to them, convince the remaining clerics that you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."
Rebekah took a step back in surprise. She had been hoping for something simple, that Mother Giselle would be able to act as a liaison between the Inquisition and their potential allies. She had not been expecting her to suggest that they address the Chantry's rumors of her. "They want my head, Mother Giselle. I doubt that they will be assuaged simply by me appealing to them."
"If I thought you incapable, I wouldn't suggest it," Mother Giselle replied, her expression limned with hope.
"You just met me, how is it that you already have a measure of what I'm capable of?" Rebekah countered, the words slipping from her mouth before she could think them through. She could see Mother Giselle's attitude towards her changing and she knew that she needed to salvage this conversation. "Will they even listen?"
"Let me put it this way. You needn't convince them. You just need some of them to...doubt," Mother Giselle's lips quirked up a little at the sides and for a moment Rebekah wondered how Mother Giselle had come to join the Chantry. "Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you'll receive the time you need."
"She doesn't mean for you to win the Chantry over," Rebekah realized. "She's hoping that if they fight among themselves, they'll be too busy with each other to keep you from reaching the mages and Templars."
"Thank you," Rebekah said, fighting the urge to grin at the cleric.
"I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help us," Mother Giselle began.
"That makes two of us," Rebekah thought to herself, actively trying to keep her face neutral.
"But I hope," Mother Giselle continued. "Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other. You could build the Inquisition into a force that could deliver us. Or destroy us."
Mother Giselle paused to give Rebekah time to think on what had been said. Rebekah hoped that she could be a part of an Inquisition that saved the people, that stood as a symbol of good and justice in this chaotic world. She had her doubts, of course, but she hoped, just like Mother Giselle.
"I will go to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who will be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can," Mother Giselle inclined her head to Rebekah, slipped her hands into the large sleeves of her chantry robes and strode back over to the many wounded who lay on cots behind them.
Varric walked over to her as Mother Giselle departed, Solas and Cassandra were nowhere to be found. "So what's the plan?"
"We need to go back and confer with the others, but after that? Val Royeaux."
That night, they camped with the scouts that Leliana had sent to protect the Crossroads.
Rebekah finally had the pleasure of meeting Scout Harding, one of Leliana's top operatives, and found that she liked the mix of business and sarcasm that the dwarf relied on when speaking to her and her companions. Harding gave them the location of a Master Dennet, the horse master who supplied mounts for the soldiers of Redcliff.
Harding hadn't been sure whether the fighting had reached him, or whether he was even alive, but asserted that he was the best supplier of horses in Ferelden. Rebekah had promised to check it out before returning to Haven.
Rebekah sat on one of the logs, staring blankly at the fire as the day's events swirled through her mind.
She didn't even hear Varric approach from behind. "He-,"
"Maker!" Rebekah cried out shrilly, jumping up from the log and whirling around to find Varric standing behind her.
He chuckled, "Sorry Snowflake, didn't mean to scare you." He came around to sit on the log next to hers.
"Snowflake?" Rebekah asked as she took her seat.
"Nicknames are kind of my thing," Varric explained with a toothy grin. "Seeker, Chuckles, Curly, and now Snowflake," he finished with a gesture towards her.
"But why Snowflake?"
"Well, I know you use lightning magic too, but I know ice magic is more your style. Plus, you're pale as snow. So, snowflake," he finished, his tone indicating that he was proud of himself for thinking of it.
"Uh huh," Rebekah replied, unconvinced.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the firewood crackling in front of them.
"So," Varric began. "You wanna to talk about it?"
Rebekah tensed, knowing what he meant, but still said "Talk about what?"
"You freezing in that fight," he finished simply.
Rebekah let out a huff, refusing to turn and meet his gaze knowing that she would find the same sympathetic look he always showed her. "I've never been in a fight," she said dumbly.
"I know that, but that's not all of it," Varric countered. Rebekah shook her head.
"You're too observant, you know that?" Rebekah replied, shifting uncomfortably.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but you know this won't be the only fight we're in. This is a war. I don't want to see you get hurt." At that, Rebekah did turn to look at him and saw that he was looking off, past the fire, thinking of something the past.
Rebekah had never needed to talk about it, but she found herself wanting to. She took a deep breath and faced the fire again. "I've only used my magic against another person once. It was a long time ago, back during the Blight when one of the enchanters rebelled and took over the tower."
She saw Varric turn towards her out of the corner of her eye, knew he was watching her body language, her facial features, as she spoke.
"I was stuck between the rebels and a barrier that kept people out of the antechamber where the other survivors were. One of the enchanters, my mentor, found me. She tried to get me to safety, but we were found by Uldred. She tried to fight him, but she had just been through her Harrowing and she wasn't strong enough to fight him. She told me to run, but I was frozen to the spot. He turned her into an abomination right in front of me," Rebekah could feel her eyes welling up at the memory of Carina Amell, thrashing in pain as Uldred unleashed his blood magic on her.
"When he was done, he sent her after me. I was young, not very well trained, but I used my magic against her. I don't know if I wounded her enough to kill her, I ran before I could find out, but I always felt guilty for turning on her."
"She was an abomination," Varric countered, but Rebekah shook her head, said "I know," and continued.
"After that, I struggled with my magic. Primal magic has always been utilized on the battlefield, wielded as an offensive magic, meant to kill, but it requires a level of intent. The intention behind the spell effects how damaging it can be. Against demons I don't have a problem, but against people? I vowed after the uprising never to use my magic to bring harm to another person. In that moment, staring at those Templars and mages, I couldn't bring myself to hurt them," Rebekah finally turned to him and instead of seeing sympathy, she saw understanding.
"There's nothing wrong with that, Snowflake," he began, reaching across the distance between them to put his hand on her knee.
"How do you do it?" she asked quietly, wiping at the few tears that had escaped.
"Kill people?" he asked and Rebekah nodded. "I only kill when I need to and in my experience, that's only when I'm trying to protect someone. Today, I killed to protect my comrades. We killed to protect each other and the people in that village."
Rebekah met his eyes, seeing the flash of sadness in his eyes for only a moment. "One day, and I hope it's not soon, you may have to do the same."
Rebekah had thought as much, knew that the role she had in this war would require her to one day kill another. "What do you do afterwards?"
"You live. You survive," he replied simply.
"I hope I'm strong enough to do that," Rebekah said.
"You will be," Cassandra's voice called out from the darkness. Rebekah heard the tent rustling and Cassandra emerged into the firelight.
"Now Seeker, were you eavesdropping?" Varric cooed, his serious face splitting into another grin as he slowly rounded to look at Cassandra.
"I was not," Cassandra stated indignantly and Rebekah betted that she was blushing.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop?" Varric continued.
The back and forth between the two went on for a while and Rebekah smiled, becoming accustomed to the banter that usually happened among her companions. After a time, she stood up from her seat quietly and retreated to her tent.