DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Dragon Age original plotline, characters, or games. These are all the property of the amazing Bioware team, and I am merely a fan reveling in the beautiful and intricate world that they have built.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

.*. *. ҉ .*.*.

It was hard to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned in frustration, her ire increasing with each passing hour. She had to wake up at dawn to set out for the Hinterlands, and yet she was not even drowsy! Nydha knew what the problem was, not that it would help her lack of sleep. This town, this house, this bed, these sheets… they were all unfamiliar. The air was cold and bitter as she huddled into her quilts, so very unlike the warmer winds of Jader, which had always been tinged with salt from the nearby sea. The soothing sounds of the forest during the night were absent, replaced by the grunt of a soldier or a barking dog. Even the cabin that she slept in seemed to echo with emptiness, bearing none of the homely warmth that the aravels had offered.

Oh yeah, and my hand is a fuckin' nightlight.

She clenched her left fist in an attempt to dowse its light, but to no avail.

In the dark it was harder to push away the despair that threatened to engulf her. Longing swept through her like a physical ache as she thought of the trees and the open air and the clan. Nydha remembered the way Keeper Deshanna had soothed her to sleep, idly running fingers through her hair until she slipped into dreams, the croon of the halla near the camp. She wanted to leave this stupid place; she wanted to go back!

Nydha gripped the blankets harder, digging her fingers into the sheets.

Don't you dare cry. She snarled inwardly at herself. Don't you dare. You will stay strong.

She squeezed her eyes shut and released a shuddering breath. Nydha shoved her glowing hand under the pillow to hide its light, and curled into a ball. She never quite fell asleep that night, but as her breath evened out and her muscles relaxed, she slipped into meditation.

It wasn't supposed to be this way… She thought as the nightmares began.

.*.*. ҉, .*.*.

Despite the all the awe and splendor that the Inquisition inspired, the organization was still in its infancy. Ergo, they had no money, no supplies, and barely any force of substance. So, five days after her arrival in Haven, Nydha found herself standing by the town gates and attempting not to judge the Inquisition too harshly for the sight before her.

Nydha wrinkled her nose at the horses that had been provided for herself and her companions for their trip to the Hinterlands. Or should she say… mules. Well, they weren't actually mules, but they might as well have been. These horses had probably been donations from well-intentioned farmers or minor nobles, and had spent most of their lives pulling plows than carrying soldiers. But the poor things were clearly not made for war, with droopy ears and dull eyes.

Andraste's tits, what if they shy from our swords?! It suddenly occurred to her, and Nydha forced herself not to groan.

Beside her, the Seeker was eyeing the horses with similar distaste. "These horses were not meant for battle."

"Obviously." The elleth muttered in reply. "They'll probably bolt just from our swords tapping their rumps!"

Cassandra nodded in agreement. "Let us hope not. I'd rather not walk all the way to the Hinterlands."

With that, the group mounted their horses. Cassandra and Nydha made it look easy, while Solas – usually so unflappable – looked a little off balance as he swung his leg over the horse. Watching Varric was the most hilarious thing Nydha had ever seen, however. Dwarves were never meant to ride horses, as was exemplified by their rather stout companion. The Inquisition soldiers had tried to make things easier by assigning him to a pony, but nevertheless, dwarf legs were not long enough to ever mount a horse.

"Thrice-damned piece of nugshit!" Varric muttered angrily as he was forced to allow a soldier give him a boost. The man was respectful enough to keep a blank expression as he let the dwarf step onto his knee and helped to push him into the saddle seat.

"I fuckin' hate horses! Andraste's flamin' knickers!" Varric hissed as he grasped the saddle horn for dear life.

Oh this is good. This is great! This just made my day! Nydha held her fingers to her lips to stifle her giggles. Her eyes darted over to the Seeker, and her amusement doubled when she saw the shit-eating smirk that Cassandra sported while watching Varric's embarrassment.

Cassandra, after realizing that Nydha was watching her, quickly wiped the expression off of her face and cleared her throat. "W-We should get moving."

Nydha nodded, although a few giggles escaped.

Varric sent her a deadly glare.

She shrugged unapologetically in response, and winked back at him. The dwarf continued to curse under his breath as they headed out. Cassandra and Nydha had taken the lead, with Solas and Varric behind them, making a square formation as they rode. Varric was no experienced rider, for obvious reasons, and so his pony had been tied by a long rope to Nydha's so that he would not have to steer.

The morning passed quickly as they headed east into the heart of Ferelden. They had to be careful not to lose their direction as they traveled, as there would be no proper roads until they neared Redcliffe. For now, they followed the rivers which flowed down from the Frostbacks towards the lowlands.

If Nydha closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that the hoof beats were those of halla, and that the people travelling with her were Dalish clansmen, not strangers.

And so she did, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. The smell of the forest was comforting, even if she could tell that it was not her forest. The air was crisp with the mountain chill, filled with the smell of pine and oak, whereas she was used to a more earthy-smelling forest, with winds tainted by salt and brine. Still, the whisper of wind in the leaves, the scuttle of wildlife, and the sloshing of the rivers nearby was comforting.

She had the sudden need to kick her horse into a canter, to gallop full-tilt across the countryside, run away and never look back. It would only take a second to slice the rope connecting her horse to Varric's pony, and then she would dig her heels into the horse's sides, leaning forward as it leapt into a run. She would press herself low onto its back, digging her heels down into the stirrups to keep her balance. The air would whip her face, her horse's mane and tail one with the wind as they cantered, farther and farther away, away from this mess, this war, this apocalypse…

"It will take two days to reach the outer regions of the Hinterlands."

Nydha jolted forcefully as Cassandra's voice interrupted her vision. The party gave her questioning looks at her surprised jerk. Her horse nickered beneath her, stomping its feet as it sensed her tension.

"Daydream." The elleth muttered as an excuse.

The Seeker hummed. "As I was saying," She continued. "We will probably reach the Hinterlands by nightfall tomorrow. Leliana said her scouts set up camp in the northern parts, on a ridge overlooking Redcliffe Road. The entire countryside is a battleground between the mages and the Templars, so we should be on our guard as we approach."

Nydha nodded. "I see. Is the camp in a secure location?"

Cassandra gave her a 'duh' look. "Leliana is thorough."

That's what makes her so scary… Nydha thought, half in amusement, half with serious wariness of the spymaster.

The rest of the day was as boring as she expected. Traveling with the Dalish was much more fun – there was always some adolescent falling off their halla, children laughing or arguing from the aravels, Keeper Deshanna tirelessly recounting legends of old. The men would joke, the women would gossip, and the teenagers would flirt with horrible subtly. Sometimes their hahren would start a song or a chant, and the whole clan would join in for a few minutes, filling the air with their lilting voices.

I just want to go back… Nydha lamented for the umpteenth time. It wasn't just the intimidating presence of Cassandra, Leliana, or any of the other companions that prevented her from running away – it was the anticipated disappointment and/or anger of Keeper Deshanna if she abandoned such duty. Most likely, the keeper would send her right back to the Inquisition, in chains if she had to, in order to force her to save the world.

"Seriously, the quiet is killing me here." Varric's voice sliced through the air.

Beside her, the Seeker gave an annoyed huff. "What do you suggest, Varric?"

"I dunno, a story perhaps?" The dwarf replied.

"Well, stories are your specialty, Varric." Solas pointed out, speaking for the first time since they left Haven. "Why don't you tell us one?"

The dwarf sputtered. "Me?" He scoffed. "You want me to just make up a story?"

"Or tell one that you already know." Cassandra pointed out.

Varric chuckled. "Okay, I suppose I set myself up for that one. Any suggestions?"

No one spoke.

"Seeker? Chuckles?" The dwarf turned to Nydha and narrowed his eyes as he thought of a nickname for her.

I wait with eager anticipation. The elf thought dryly.

"Cheekbones?"

"No." She immediately replied.

Varric shook his head, no that didn't quite fit this strange elf girl.

"Cranky?"

"Do you want a blade up your ass?"

"I'll take that as a no…"

The young woman turned around on her horse and gave the dwarf a pointed look. Varric held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay… we'll leave your attitude out of this."

Nydha rolled her eyes and turned back around.

…

…

…

"I'd call you Broody, but that name's already taken."

"Just shut up or tell a story, dwarf."

"Geez, fine." Varric grumbled as he continued to squint at Nydha's back, various nicknames shuffling through his mind. Hm, story, story, what to tell?

"So, anyone have a particular genre in mind?" He questioned aloud.

"I believe humor would be the most conducive to traveling." Solas answered him with an oddly serious tone.

The dwarf chuckled. "You make it sound like a science, Chuckles."

In the end, Varric told them a story from his days in Kirkwall. It involved the knight-captain, an old friend of his named Aveline, who had to be the most romantically-stunted woman in the world. Cassandra was little disgruntled at first, given her similarities with the woman, however as Varric went on to describe Aveline's clumsy attempts at courting a fellow guardsmen, Donnic, even Cassandra found herself chuckling. Nydha snickered the entire time, and let out a bark of laughter when Varric got to 'three goats and a sheaf of wheat'. Solas looked positively mortified for the poor woman.

"A dowry? Seriously?" Nydha scoffed. "Isn't that traditionally for the men to give to the women?"

Varric smirked back at her. "Yes."

Nydha paused for a moment, before a wicked look crossed her face. "Oh I see. She's totally the man in that relationship, isn't she? And he's the bottom?"

Varric laughed at that, until his expression turned abruptly to horror. "Oh Maker, that was not a mental image that I ever wanted to see."

"Oh?" Nydha smirked. "Entertaining dirty thoughts, are we?"

"No, no!" Varric shook his head and waved his hands. "Changing the subject right now."

Out of the corner of her eye, Nydha saw Cassandra's lips tilt upwards. It seemed the surest way to get the Seeker to smile was anything that caused Varric mental scarring. Such as imagining his friends naked.

Oh, what about the Champion? I hear she was a looker.

Lavellan glanced at the green tinge of Varric's face and decided that she would spare him the additional discomfort and save that particular question for later. Glancing at the sky, she was surprised to realize that the sun was sinking low on the horizon. Mid-afternoon, if she had to guess. They should be approaching proper roads soon.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the ground before them evened out, and a path of packed dirt crossed in front of them. They turned onto it, the road taking them northeast towards where they assumed Redcliffe to be.

"Be on you guard." Cassandra told them. "The area is not safe."

Everyone put a hand on their weapon, resting it there.

Nydha could tell that they had entered the Hinterlands now. The rocky ground turned grassy, and plants better suited to the warm climate popped up, such as embrium and bonnet flowers. There was evidence of conflict everywhere: charred patches of grass, random spots of un-melting ice, sliced tree branches and blood spatter.

She did not blink as they passed the bodies, keeping her face carefully neutral. Cassandra frequently expressed her disgust at the civil war, cursing the apostates and Templars alike for the chaos they had sown. Solas' gaze often lingered on the dead mages – I guess we know where his sympathies lie – while Varric was, surprisingly, just as expressionless as she was.

She supposed it made sense, given the years he spent in Kirkwall. That place was a cesspool from what she had heard.

Despite the conflict in the area, they could not slow down, or risk becoming involved in the fighting. They were often forced to detour off the road in order to avoid Templar or mages, or even both as they dueled each other in the middle of the forest.

That night they made camp underneath one of the large rock outcroppings that littered the edges of the Hinterlands. Solas cast his wards and Varric set up traps that would warn them of any intruders. They still had some packed bread and salted ram meat that they had brought from Haven, so they didn't bother hunting for dinner. The group ate in silence together, Cassandra calling first watch as the rest laid out their bedrolls on the grass.

Nydha dozed throughout the night but didn't really fall asleep, being too much out in the open for her instincts to truly relax. She was woken for the third watch sometime in the earliest morning hours and then returned to her dozing as Solas took the last watch. In the morning they all packed up and remounted their horses with little conversation, and they rejoined the main roads leading down into the valley.

After dodging a few more skirmishes between Templars and mages, the group managed to cross into the heart of the Hinterland valley around midday. They continued down a well-worn path through the hills, the signs of war growing increasingly frequent as they passed burning fields and abandoned huts. Finally, as the sun began to set, they approached a stone arch that signaled that they had neared the Crossroads. Cassandra pulled out a map that Leliana had given her that would help guide them to the Inquisition base camp.

The Seeker took the lead, urging their horses up a steep hill that made Varric grip his saddle horn in terror. Nydha leaned forward, giving her horse the leverage to climb the hill, and noticed Cassandra unconsciously do the same. To her amusement, both Solas and Varric looked rather uncomfortable at the sharp angle of the incline, although the elf hid it better than the dwarf.

"It is around here somewhere…" Cassandra muttered as their ascended the hill and looked around.

All they could see were trees.

The whistle of a bird cut through the air.

Nydha narrowed her eyes as she whipped out her blade.

"Show yourself!" She called out as her horse stomped its feet, sensing the tension in her muscles.

Cassandra briefly glanced at her before she, too, drew her blade, glancing around the thicket. Across from them, the bushes rustled, and Nydha leaned forward, glaring in the direction of the sound.

"Peace! We are agents of the Inquisition." A voice answered her from the trees as a figure stepped out. It was a male soldier, wearing the Inquisition's armor, though his face was obscured by his helmet.

"We were expecting you." He greeted them as he crossed his fist over his chest and gave a short bow. "The Lady Seeker and the Herald, yes?"

Nydha squirmed at the unfamiliar and unwanted title.

"Indeed." Cassandra answered for them.

"Then please follow me. You will have to dismount your horses however, as it is difficult to navigate the trail into camp." The soldier told them.

At least we know it will be hard for people to ambush us, or even find us. Nydha thought as she gathered her reins and swung her leg over the horse's rump, sliding off of the horse and landing on the ground. She kept her hands on the saddle for a moment until her legs were steady, ignoring the awful ache in her thighs. It had been some time since she had last spent an entire day in the saddle.

Cassandra dismounted with the same ease, and Solas – well, at least Solas could dismount on his own, though ungracefully. Before he could catch her looking at him, Nydha turned her gaze towards Varric, who was looking very unsure of himself. However, being a selfish bitch, she made no move to offer him any help, and instead waited to laugh at whatever attempt he made at a dismount.

Varric did not disappoint.

He carefully gathered the reins in one hand, as he had watched Nydha and Cassandra do, and tried to swing his leg off of the horse.

"Oomph!" He gasped as he slid off of the horse completely and landed on his back, knocking the breath out of him. The horse snorted at this and sidestepped to give its rider room while Varric groaned in pain. "Goddammit that hurt like a motherfucker!"

Solas came to his rescue, offering the dwarf a hand and helping him to his feet. After giving Varric a sympathetic look, the elf returned to his own horse. Cassandra and Nydha exchanged amused glances.

The soldier cleared his throat.

"Right." The Seeker nodded. "Lead the way."

The Inquisition camp was not much farther up on the hill, but one would never know it. Nydha had to give these scouts credit, they knew how to go unnoticed. It was not surprising, Leliana only employed the best, or so she had been told. Their horses were taken to a fenced off portion of land near the mountainside, far away from the cliff yet not easily accessible should someone attack them. There were tents lined up around the perimeter, and a few supply tables further into camp.

The group walked up to what looked to be the main tent – well, walk being a loose term. Cassandra strode confidently, Nydha walked briskly to ignore the ache in her legs, while the two men in their group practically limped from the pain of the saddle.

Men and saddles just don't get along, do they? Nydha thought with a smirk, then winced at her own pain between the legs. Okay, karma, I deserved that.

"The Herald of Andraste! I've heard the stories…"

An awed voice interrupted her musings, and Nydha snapped back to attention. A pretty dwarven woman approached them dressed in Inquisition armor. She had an expressive face, pert nose, and auburn hair pulled into a tight bun. Nydha was instantly jealous of her pale green eyes, which shone like bright gemstones as she stared at her.

Meanwhile, the dwarf woman continued to speak. "Inquisition scout Harding, at your service."

Oops, what did I miss?

"I – all of us – we'll do whatever we can to help." The dwarf woman (dwarfess?) told her.

Nydha nodded, pretending that she had been paying attention the whole time, and gave her a polite smile, which looked more like a grimace on the unfriendly elleth.

"Harding, huh?" Varric asked with an oddly amused look on his face. "Ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?"

Cassandra gave a disgusted huff, for whatever reason.

"Can't say that I have." Scout Harding replied with a quizzical look on her face. "Why?"

Varric looked like he was delivering the punchline to a joke as he said, "'Cause you'd be Harding in…" He finally realized that no one knew what he was talking about. "Oh never mind…"

Cassandra sent the dwarf a deadpan expression, as if to say 'you're not funny, Varric'. Nydha smirked at the disappointed look on the dwarf's face.

"Anyway…" Nydha drawled as she tore her gaze from the glowering pair. "How're things here? I've heard the Hinterlands are not exactly the best vacation spot at the moment."

"I'll say." Scout Harding gave an annoyed huff. "The entire place is chaos. Everyone is fighting everyone else, and you never know when some stray fireball is going to fall out of the sky."

"As if we need more things falling out of the sky." Varric muttered.

"We came here to secure horses from Redcliffe's old horse master." Harding continued. "I grew up here, and people always said that Dennet's herds were the strongest and fastest this side of the Frostbacks. But with the mage-templar fighting getting worse, we couldn't get to Dennet. Maker only knows if he's even still alive."

Just great. Nydha frowned. Just how widespread was this mage-templar conflict?

"Mother Giselle is at the Crossroads helping refugees and the wounded. Our latest reports say that the war's spread there too." Harding informed them. "Corporal Vale and our men are doing what they can to help protect the people, but they won't be able to hold out very long."

I feel like I've just been handed a list of chores. Except instead of washing the dishes, I'm killing the bandits. And mages. And Templars. And demons. Nydha sighed. Well, at least I'm good at killing things.

"You best get going. No time to lose." Harding said as another scout walked up to them and handed her a report. The dwarf turned away from them and began conversing with her scout.

Go save the world now. Please and thank you. Nydha rubbed the back of her neck tiredly, rolling her shoulders. Turning back to face her companions, she gestured towards the tents. "Get some rest. We'll save the world tomorrow."

"Praise the Maker." Varric muttered as he crawled over to one of the tents and disappeared into it.

Cassandra grudgingly conceded to the elf's decision, walking towards another tent that was far from the one that Varric had claimed.

"You seem to be taking this well." Solas spoke from behind her.

Nydha turned to face him, hiding the surprise she felt at his conversation. She had figured him as a quiet, studious man, as he had spoken little in the time she had known him.

"What do you mean?" She asked him.

"Being the 'Herald of Andraste'." He replied. "Suddenly you're leading Inquisition efforts and giving orders to soldiers. I did not expect a Dalish elf to be capable of adjusting so quickly, no offense."

Nydha did not reply for a moment, studying Solas with an unabashed gaze. Then, she snorted.

"Do I amuse you?" Solas lifted a brow at her.

"You do." She answered him. "I would expect such prejudice from humans, but an elf criticizing a Dalish? How ironic."

Solas frowned. "In my experience, the Dalish are the prejudiced ones. Stubborn, unwilling to change."

"I will not argue that, for it is true enough." Nydha shrugged, then explained. "Dalish are not fond of outsiders – however they have reason to be. Too often they have paid the price for trust easily given. Their trust must be earned – and if that is the extent of your experience with the Dalish, then you obviously never took the time to earn it."

The male elf crossed his arms as he mulled over her words.

"Anyway, I'm gonna hit the sack." Nydha yawned, brushing past Solas and entering the tent next to Cassandra's.

As the tent's flap fell closed behind her, she dropped her pack on the floor and unbuckled her belt, which had her dagger sheathes attached to it. She laid her blades next to the sleeping mat within reaching distance, and taking a smaller dagger from her boot, she slid that one under the pillow.

It was such a hassle to take one's armor off. There were all kinds of buckles and chains and ties, metal and leather and chainmail, the list went on. But for Nydha , the chore was familiar and thoughtless, zoning out as she pulled off the many layers. Her mind was blank as she pulled out a several different jars of polish from her pack. She began to rub a waxy substance into the leather parts of her armor in slow, circular strokes. When that was done, she repeated the gesture with a different polish, this time shining the metal pieces of her armor.

When this was done, she carefully set her armor aside in a corner of the tent, leaning it upright so as not to crease the leather. She unsheathed every one of her blades, checking their edges for nicks or dulling. After they were all deemed acceptable, she replaced them and finally began to bed down for the night.

Nydha pulled a piece of bread and a block of cheese from her pack, her meal for the night. Falling onto her mat, she let out a surprised groan as the pain in her thighs made itself known.

Ow! My crotch! She let out a hiss as she extended her legs in front of her. Goddamn saddles…

She bit into her bread roughly as she leaned forward, attempting to relieve the ache in her muscles by stretching them, and hoping that she would not be too stiff in the morning.

Finishing off her food with a drink from her canteen, Nydha was surprised to find herself in darkness. Night had fallen without her notice, it would seem. Suddenly, her exhaustion seemed to press down on her, weighing heavy on her shoulders.

Time for bed… She sighed inwardly as she laid down on the mat.

Nydha curled up on her side, grunting as her leather jerkin dug into her ribs (she had not taken off all of her armor off, she was still in unfamiliar territory). Still, she was not unused to it, and so she was soon able to relax and deepen her breathing. Sleeping in a tent under the stars, the sound of the forest surrounding her, was far more soothing than an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar town.

That night she had no nightmares, but the dreams were of better times, and the heartache they brought with them was just as bad.

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