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'

.*.*. ҉ .*.*.

They spent the entirety of two weeks clearing out the Hinterlands. The sheer size of the region was mind-boggling to Nydha, whose woodland experience was mostly limited to the coastal forests along the Waking Sea – and obviously the Hinterlands were nothing like the coast. Everything was so lush, even the air was heavy with moisture and the scent of flora. Clan Lavellan was from the northern Dales, a region of Orlais that often forgot that it was actually part of the empire. The forests there were not as lush as the Hinterlands, the air crisp and tasting faintly of salt from the ocean.

It took Nydha and her companions days to clear out the smaller enemy camps that were dotted throughout the Hinterlands. In between dodging swords and fireballs, they discovered several ancient and mysterious artifacts (such as random glowing skulls and moaning shards), hidden supply caches once belonging to the rogue mages, hunted for meat for the villagers, and even returned someone's lost druffalo.

"Am I everyone's fucking nanny?" Nydha had grumped aloud to the others just before they had decided to pack up and head back to Haven. Varric, the little chit, had the gall to smirk cheekily and answer with a solemn and affirmative 'yes'.

She had thrown her shoe at him.

After establishing a solid foundation within the Hinterlands and the Crossroads, the Inquisition's presence was growing steadily in the region, with new recruits coming from all corners of the valley to join their forces. As such, Corporal Vale was able to spare a few men, and so the little Inquisition party headed back to the Frostbacks, this time accompanied by more soldiers and with better equipment than when they had arrived.

They secured the most direct trail between the Hinter valley and the Frostbacks, marking spots for outposts and watchtowers so that Cullen could establish some men along the route to fortify the path for when Master Dennet sent his horses to the Inquisition.

To Nydha's surprise, the journey back to Haven was not as tense as it had been the first time. Perhaps the shared comradery of battle had loosened her companions up a bit. Cassandra and Varric managed to have two civil conversations, interspersed with biting comments every ten minutes or so. Solas remained quiet but she could tell that his shoulders were not as stiff as they had been when they first traveled together.

Even Nydha found herself comfortably turning her back to her companions, instead of keeping track of their movements in paranoia, waiting for a blade to the back. The elleth felt herself stiffen at the thought.

Oh dear. Was she – was she actually learning to trust these people? Nydha grimaced. She could imagine Keeper Deshanna's smug smirk already.

The horse beneath her slowed as it noticed its rider's change in mood. Glancing down at the pale grey horse, Nydha squeezed her thighs and clucked softly, urging her steed back up to speed with the rest of the party. Beside her, the other three Inquisition companions were astride their own horses, yet another generous donation from Master Dennet after they had successfully cleared his lands of all rifts, demons, and possessed wolves. Dennet had gifted her a beautiful gelding with a wonderfully sweet personality, even for a war horse. He was an average height for a Ferelden breed, well-muscled and easy to maneuver. Nydha was waiting to get to know the personality of the horse before she named him, however. An elven thing, she would later come to learn, as humans tend to name their animals at the first meeting.

Much to the elf's amusement, each of her companions seemed to match their steed perfectly. Cassandra was astride a broad, muscular bay, which often tossed its head and tugged at the reins in a headstrong manner reminiscent of its rider. Solas road a quiet mare, a gentle chestnut that like to smell the flowers whenever the party stopped to rest. And Varric, oh Varric, was riding a lazy pony that often ignored his rider's commands and had a penchant for sticking her nose in the nearest food bag.

Around them, a small platoon of soldiers walked briskly, six men of different ages and various backgrounds. The younger boys liked to gather around the fire when they made camp and listen to Varric tell his stories, while the two older soldiers tended to stick amongst themselves or speak with Cassandra. They all avoided Solas – as many common people still feared mages – and of course, Solas made to effort to speak to any of them.

For the millionth time, Nydha wondered what the fuck she was doing. She could have easily slipped away, run away and let real heroes handle this shit. Why was she here, helping these shems? Why endanger her own well-being for these – these – humans?

Perhaps the better question was, why had she not run away?

.*. *. ҉ .*.*.

"Home sweet Haven." Varric drawled as the citadel of the Haven chantry came into view.

Thank the gods. Nydha thought as she was wracked by another shiver and drew her cloak closer around herself. A fresh flurry of snow was just beginning to fall from the sky, and she was already dreaming of curling up in her bed with a hot cup of tea and a good book.

Approaching the gates, Nydha was pleased to notice that the old stable outside of Haven had been fixed up while they had been away, and was ready to receive their new horses. A few young lads were already rushing towards them, while the soldiers that had accompanied them from the Hinterlands were already walking towards the training grounds to report to an officer.

"Lemme 'elp ya out, mi'lady." One of the boys said as he came to stand next to her horse, a tall and lanky lad that might have only been fifteen summers.

Nydha felt her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline before she remembered the whole 'blessed Herald of Andraste' shit. Damn, she still couldn't get over the fact that people treated her like nobility now.

"Er, right." She cleared her throat. "My thanks."

The young man held out his hand for her to take, and then helped her dismount from the horse. Lavellan glanced over at her companions as her feet touched the ground, feeling displeased by the fact that she was the only one getting special treatment. Cassandra and Solas had jumped down from their mounts independently, while Varric flailed miserably and nearly face-planted, although one of the stable boys managed to push him back onto the horse and then help him down properly.

Nydha smirked when she caught Varric's eye. The dwarf stuck his tongue out at her in response.

"I'll be sure ta take ya things to yer cabin, mi'lady." The boy next to her spoke as he straightened the tack and began to lead the horse towards the stables.

"Oh, er, no that quite alright!" Nydha protested, but the boy and the horse were already too far to hear her. The rogue sighed.

Chuckling behind her alerted her to the arrival of her dwarven companion. Nydha turned to glance over at Varric and put on an annoyed expression.

"I am not an invalid." She grumped.

"Let 'em spoil you, kid." Varric patted her arm and turned her in the direction of Haven's gate. "Not everyone gets preferential treatment, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah." Nydha muttered as she and the dwarf trudged up to the gate. Solas and Cassandra had apparently gone their separate ways already. As they entered the town Varric bid her goodbye as he turned towards the tavern.

And so Nydha walked into the Chantry by herself, noticing Mother Giselle off to the side speaking lowly with two of the clerics. The elf made a mental note to speak to the woman later, after she was finished in the war room.

As expected, when Nydha walked through the double doors of the command center, all three of the advisors were there, Leliana and Josephine bantering softly while Cullen and Cassandra spoke together while pointing at the map every so often. She suspected Leliana had a system set up where one of her 'people' would alert the advisors to her arrival every time Nydha came back to Haven from some mission or another.

"Hello, cara." Josephine greeted the elf with her usual geniality. "We were just speaking about you."

"Were you?" Nydha asked amusedly.

Leliana nodded. "Indeed. It would seem that the Chantry has finally decided to make a move."

Nydha raised her brows, but otherwise waited for the redhead to elaborate.

"The Chantry has declared the Inquisition heretical." Leliana stated without preamble. The elf winced, knowing the complications that entailed. "They are gathering in Val Royeaux to decide what they should do about us. The best thing for us to do at this point is to send a representative to either speak on our behalf or to scout for potential allies while noting any enemies of worth. If the Chantry decides to move against us, then all that we hope to build will be for naught."

Nydha could already tell this was going to be a headache.

"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea." Josephine suggested.

"That is a horrible idea." Nydha crossed her arms. "I don't do politics."

"It is as Mother Giselle said." Josephine reasoned with her. "At the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana questioned.

Nydha sighed and shifted her weight onto one leg, carefully hiding her irritation. The Herald. She was really starting to detest the title. Why did people insist on calling her such nonsense?

"Let's ask her, then."

Nydha glanced up as the conversation shifted back to her and shrugged. "I don't think that the Chantry will take any representative of the Inquisition seriously. Although Chantry politics are less likely to involve literal backstabbing as court politics."

"Don't underestimate the power of their words." Leliana warned her. "An angry mob will do you in just as quickly as a blade."

"Then I will go with her."

Nydha glanced over to see Cassandra push off the wall that she had been leaning against as she watched the advisors bicker.

"I am the Right Hand of the previous Divine, and that will count for something." Cassandra stated. "And we cannot approach anyone for help against the Breach while the Chantry stands in our way. If we can at least end the stalemate, create disunity, then maybe someone will be willing to help us."

"Or at the very least, they cannot prevent anyone from lending us aid." Nydha added on.

"Indeed." The Seeker agreed, turning to Josephine. "Use what influence we have to gather the clerics. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

.*. *. ҉ .*.*.

Three day's worth of riding to the coast and then another two days by ship, and Nydha found herself in the heart of the Orlesian Empire as she and her companions stepped off the docks and entered the city.

Val Royeaux was just as fancy and luxurious and over-the-top as one would imagine. The walls were washed to a pristine white, the columns of the balconies carved to reflect the same patterns found in lace, the sculptures which lined the entryway were like looming marble giants, carved with such perfection that any naturalism was negated. Even the ground beneath her feet was flawless shell-colored tile, not a chip or footprint to be seen, inlaid with ornate geometric mosaics at intervals. Between the sculptures were faux floral arrangements – obviously fake due to their too-perky flowers and the distinct lack of any floral scents in the air (save for the heady cloud of perfume that seemed to accompany every Orlesian that walked by). The gates were flanked by twin winged and rearing lions, painted with gold leaf and nearly blinding in the sunlight.

The Orlesians were also just as fancy and luxurious and over-the-top, as if to reflect the ostentatiousness of their city. Women wore dresses with far too many layers and ruffles and lace and embroidery. The men were just as bad, if not worse! At least the women knew how to balance fabrics and texture. One man wore a plaid green topcoat over a ridiculously lacey yellow blouse, with what Nydha supposed was a ruffled cummerbund, although it was hard to see past the atrocious disaster of his outfit.

She dared not look at his shoes.

And the masks! What the fuck was with the masks? It was just creepy.

"Oh Nightingale and Ruffles would have a field day with him." She heard Varric snicker under his breath as Ser Fashion-Disaster walked by them. The elleth could not help but to agree. The woman walking behind the first man gasped. Nydha saw the woman's eyes widen behind her ridiculous mask, and in a flurry of skirts, the woman was scurrying in the opposite direction.

"Just a guess, Seeker," Varric turned to Cassandra. "But I think they know who we are."

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric." The woman in question replied in her usual dry tone.

Their usual banter was interrupted as a young woman jogged up to them, a hood thrown casually over her head, a small pin on her shoulder identifying her as one of Leliana's spies.

"My Lady Herald," The woman began as she knelt before Nydha , "The Chantry mothers await you… but so do a great many Templars.

"The Templars are here?!" Cassandra interrupted with a hint of worry. Uh oh. That was never good.

The spy nodded. "The people seem to think that they will protect them from the Inquisition." The woman stood up. "They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where the Templars intend to meet you."

"Great…" Nydha drawled, wondering if Lady Luck would be on her side if she happened to face down twenty or so templars. Probably not.

"Return to Haven." Cassandra ordered the woman. "They will need to be informed if we are… delayed."

'Delayed' as in captured, tortured, and/ or killed. Delightful. Nydha thought.

As Leliana's spy jogged in the direction that they had come from, the companions of the Inquisition faced forward and straightened their shoulders. After one more reassuring look from the Seeker, Nydha strode forward with as much confidence as she could muster, following the sound of raised voices and excited murmuring until she caught a glimpse of a large crowd.

Just above the heads of the crowd she could make out the recognizable headpieces of the Chantry priestesses, who were probably standing upon a raised platform of some sort. Before making their presence known, Nydha scanned the area around them, noting the city guards (there were four) posted on the perimeters of the marketplace. Oddly enough, she did not see any sign of the Templars.

After Cassandra nudged her on last time, the elf relented and led their group towards the platform.

"Good people of Val Royeaux! Hear me!" The voice of one of the clerics called above the din. "Together we mourn our Divine, her naïve and beautiful heart silenced by treachery!"

Nydha supposed that the woman's pointed glare was meant for her then. How peachy.

"You wonder what will become of her murderer – Well, wonder no more!" The priestess continued, and then pointed directly at the representatives of the Inquisition. "Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell!"

Such pretty words. Your tongue would serve me better if it were separated from your mouth. Nydha thought in annoyance. The postulating of these Chantry members was tiresome. Didn't this woman need to pray or repent or something? Instead of standing up here like a goddamn politician?

"What say this false prophet?" The robed woman then sneered. "The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need!"

There was a beat of silence, and Nydha realized the people were waiting on her to answer them. She nearly groaned aloud at that.

Leaning over, she whispered to Cassandra, "Can I tell her that even if the Maker asked an elf to be his savior, no elf would ever volunteer to save her sorry arse?"

The Seeker's mouth twitched in amusement before she forced a scowl on her face and turned to scold Nydha .

"Take this seriously, Lavellan!" Cassandra hissed.

"How can I take this seriously if I can't even take her seriously?" Nydha grumbled.

"Here, here." Varric muttered behind them.

The Seeker turned around and gave him a dirty look.

"Well?" The sister up on the stage demanded of the 'Herald'. There was a smug look on her face, as if she thought that they were ready to give up.

Bitch.

"Enough of your politics." Nydha said sternly, raising her voice so that all could here. "The Inquisition came here to talk! There are more pressing matters to attend to."

Cassandra nodded in agreement. "We have come to end this madness before it is too late."

The priestess looked over her shoulder, and the smug expression returned ten-fold. Nydha wanted to smack her for it. Instead, the elleth turned to follow the woman's gaze, and felt her spine crawl at the sight of tall men in silver armor marching into the city plaza. Her fingers twitched as she relaxed her arms and let them fall to her sides, fingertips grazing the hilt of one of her daggers while her eyes flicked over the area for an exit.

"It is already too late!" The Chantry cleric taunted them.

Behind her, Nydha heard her companions shift, preparing for a fight.

"The Templars have returned to the Chantry! They will face this 'Inquisition' and the people will be safe once more – Oomph!"

Nydha couldn't help but let out a snort as one of the Templars knocked the self-righteous woman on her ass. Cassandra smacked the elf upside the head.

Oops. Right, bad timing. Nydha studied the Templars carefully, realizing with growing dread that their body language was aggressive and uncontrolled. They're not here for the Chantry…

One of the younger Templars – just a boy really – moved to help the cleric, but he was stopped by an older Templar.

"Still yourself." The strange man said with an authoritative voice. "She is beneath us."

He turned to regard the Inquisition party with what could only be described as distant curiosity.

Nydha glanced at the fallen sister, and then back to the cranky Templar. "I was just about to do that myself, actually."

She heard Cassandra mutter a curse behind her and tried not to smirk.

"As if I would do anything for your pleasure." The Templar sneered at the elf.

Nydha jerked her head back and wrinkled her nose. "Ewww…" She grimaced like a child. "No offense, but you're not really my type."

Now both Cassandra and Cranky Templar were giving her aggravated looks. She heard Varric make a choked sound behind her, and what she thought was a soft chuckle from Solas (but she couldn't be sure). Cranky Templar huffed and began to stalk off the stage. Cassandra jerked into motion, much to the surprise of her companions, as the Seeker hurried to catch up with Cranky Templar.

"Lord Seeker Lucius!"

What? She knows him? Nydha wondered.

"It is imperative that we speak with–"

Cranky Templar rudely interrupted. "You will not address me."

Dayum. Shut down!

"Lord Seeker?" Cassandra seemed to wilt as the confidence drained out of her, replaced with a lost sort of look akin to a kicked puppy. Huh, that was an odd connotation with the usually obstinate woman. The man finally paused to give Cassandra the most scathing look Nydha had seen in quite some time.

"Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's prophet –"

"You know, I never actually claimed such a thing." Nydha interjected, rolling her eyes.

"You should be ashamed." Lucius finished, glaring at the Seeker.

No one ever listens to me. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me? The rogue huffed inwardly. Was it the sarcasm? It was probably the sarcasm.

"You should all be ashamed!" Cranky Templar Lord-whatever raised his voice to address the crowd, which seemed to have doubled since the beginning of the whole debacle. "The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages! You are the ones that failed! You who –"

Blah, blah, blah. Always with the monologues. Nydha sighed.

"The only destiny that demands respect is mine!"

Selfish little prat, aren't we? The elf mused, imagining Cranky Templar as a bratty four-year-old hoarding all the toys.

Hm, but the Inquisition would surely be facing plenty of rogue mages in the future, with the Templar-mage war and all. Plus, the people trusted the Templars (whatever that was worth), and the Inquisition needed to gain the people's trust… But on the other hand, did she really want to extend an invitation to this asshole? By the gods, what if he accepted?! She'd have to – gasp – cooperate with him! Ew.

But… they really needed the Templars.

The things I do for the goddamn greater good… Nydha grouched inwardly as she sucked up her pride and spat it out.

"Our commander was a Templar. He speaks very highly of the Order." Don't gag, smile, just fucking smile! "Please consider joining the Inquisition. We will need your talents to put an end to the mage rebellion and restore order."

There. I said it. God that tasted awful.

"Join you?" Cranky Templar sneered again (she really hope his face would get stuck like that). "You have nothing. No influence, no power, and certainly no holy purpose."

"Well geez, thanks for the vote of confidence." Nydha muttered as she crossed her arms and pouted. She heard Solas heave a loud sigh behind. Well, at least someone was appreciating her witty humor.

"B-But Lord Seeker!" The young Templar from earlier approached them with a doubtful expression. "What if she really was sent by the Maker? What if –"

"Enough! You are called to a higher purpose! Blah, blah, blah…"

[enter another Templar monologue here]

"Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!"

With that, the Templars appeared the leave the Chantry for good, marching out of the city that was the very heart of the Chantry and taking every one of the holy soldiers with them. Immediately the market was in an uproar of panicked whispers and confused murmuring. The people had lost the mages, their Divine, and now the Templars. The Chantry was a mess and the Inquisition's rise to power was fast and unpredictable.

Plus, you know, the hole in the sky.

But at least that's over. I swear, if I had to listen to one more predictable monologue in that awful voice of his…

Nydha glanced at Varric, the two of them exchanging equally frustrated and bewildered glances, and then shaking their heads.

"Charming fellow, isn't he?" Varric muttered.

Cassandra seemed stunned into a state of disbelief. "Has Lord Seeker gone mad?!" She exclaimed.

"I take it that he was in charge of your fabled order, Seeker Cassandra?" Nydha turned to her companion.

Cassandra nodded. "He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago. He was always a decent man, never given to ambition or grandstanding. This is very bizarre."

The elleth snorted. "The man you are describing is the exact opposite of the man I just met. Are you sure he doesn't have an evil twin or something?"

"Now that would be a good plot twist." Varric murmured.

"At least the Templars are not our only option." Nydha attempted to cajole the Seeker. "We have yet to speak to the mages."

Cassandra seemed to regain some of her fire, straightening and throwing back her shoulders, shaking her head with narrowed eyes. "Do not write them off so quickly. There must be those within the Order who see what he's become!"

"I'm sure there will be. And if they come to the Inquisition, they will be welcomed with open arms." Nydha nodded. "But we need more than the support of individuals. We need an army – an army of those who can manipulate the arcane in order to seal the breach. And there is not exactly an abundance of these."

"It is better if we recruit the mages anyway." Solas finally spoke up, earning himself a dirty look from the Seeker. "Templar powers may only further destabilize the Breach, whereas we know that magic will help to seal it."

Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but Nydha quickly waved her hand at the Seeker to nip the argument in the bud. "Nothing is set in stone yet. We have yet to see if the mages are willing to ally with us. So no arguments."

Nydha glanced around the market, noticing that the people were dispersing, although a few lingered and stared at the four Inquisition members.

"We should report back to Haven." Nydha murmured, feeling her skin crawl. She didn't like so many eyes on her back.

She noticed Varric hold up his hand. "Whoa there, girlie. I didn't even get to look around."

"I didn't take you for the shopping type, Varric." Lavellan raised a brow at him.

The dwarf shrugged. "I'm not. But I hear you can get some high quality oil in this city, and Bianca's due for a rub-down." The way he caressed the handle of his crossbow was so sensual that it made her slightly uncomfortable.

The elf dipped her head. "Lead on then."

They followed Varric into a nearby weapon's shop. When the shop did not have the oil that Varric was looking for, they stopped at another stand. And another. And another. Nydha rolled her eyes as Varric huffed and puffed at each merchant, muttering about their apparent ineptitude for not keeping a stock of dwarven oil - which was apparently different from other oil. While they wandered around the bazaar, Cassandra also peeled away from the group once or twice, though never for very long, to browse one or two weapon stands.

"Are you not interested in exploring the city?" Solas surprised her by striking up conversation when they found themselves alone in each other's company.

Lavellan raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say much else. This seemed to irritate the mage as he was forced to explain his question a bit further.

"As a Dalish, I assume you have not spent much time, if any, in a human city. Are you not curious in seeing how the other half lives? Especially here, in the capital of a great empire?" His lips curled as he finished his sentence, drawling 'great empire' almost sarcastically.

She smirked him. "Oh sure, it's a beautiful city. In this part of town, anyway. But exit this plaza and what will we find? Smelly streets filled with homeless beggars and crumbling alienages." Nydha peered down a dark alley as they walked past it to prove her point, noting the trash that was accumulating in the corners. "In the end, all human cities are the same, it's just the architecture that changes."

Solas peered at her with an unreadable expression before turning away and nodding. "You are not wrong in that."

Nydha did not know what else to say after that, and was resigned to let their attempts at conversation fall into awkward silence, when the two elves passed a glass window that made her gasp.

"Yummy things!" Nydha cried in delight as she suddenly veered in the direction of the bakery, drinking in the sight of colorful cakes and candies in the windows. She felt - and ignored - Solas' disapproving stare as she entered the store without warning, although she was aware of the little bell on the door ringing twice, meaning that he had followed her in.

"Bonjour madame, monsieur." A young woman standing by the front desk greeted them, faltering only slightly at the sight of two armed elves walking into the shop.

Nydha's eyes roved over the displays hungrily, as she immediately went to the pastry section. If there was one good thing about humans, it was the frilly cakes. Without hesitation, the elleth began pointing out a variety of small cakes to the shopkeeper, who deposited them into a bright pink paper box with the shop's logo on the side.

"Do you want anything?"

Solas jolted in surprise as Nydha turned to him. She swore is eyebrows would have jumped into his hairline, if he had any. It took a second for the elven mage to process her words before he bowed his head politely at her. "I am fine."

Lavellan rolled her eyes at him. Boring man, she thought as she turned back to the shopkeeper and ordered a pastry for Solas anyway. "He'll have an éclair ."

"Herald -" He began to protest.

"That's not my name." Nydha cut him off as she quickly paid for the box of pastries and exited the shop at a brisk pace, Solas following close behind her. Whew, those little cakes were not cheap! But so worth it...

"Hera-"

"Not my name~"

"My la-"

"Still not my name!"

"Lavellan!"

She stopped and allowed Solas to catch up to her, smirking up at him as he neared. Nydha pulled the éclair out of the box of goodies and handed it to him. "That's my name. Well, one of them." Her smirk widened into a grin as Solas reluctantly accepted the pastry from her hands. "Good boy."

His gaze snapped up from the pastry to her with a dark look. "Excuse me?"

Nydha didn't respond, merely glancing down pointedly at the éclair and then turning away with a smirk still plastered to her face. "Let's go find the others, hm?"

"You can't expect men to read your mind, dear." A memory crooned in her ear. "They are rather simple creatures. Reward them for good behavior and they'll do anything for you."

Of course, her intentions were not nearly as insidious as the instructions implied. She just wanted at least one of her companions to stop calling her by that insufferable title, and Solas seemed the least infatuated with her new holy status.

Solas was surprisingly quiet as he followed her back to the central plaza, where they rejoined Cassandra and a sulking Varric. Nydha hoped the dwarf was only sulking because he couldn't find whatever item he wanted to buy, and not because him and the Seeker had gotten into another argument. Sometimes Nydha felt like she was dealing with children when those two got into it. How they managed to turn every single innocent conversation into a fight was beyond her.

"Well I guess we're done here." Nydha sighed as she motioned for everyone to walk towards the bridge.

The back of her neck tickled suddenly, and she narrowed her eyes and carefully adjusted her stance, casually turning her head to look around her.

Fwoop!

She ducked as an arrow flew over her head, hands flying to her blades.

"What's that?!" Cassandra gasped, resting her hand on her sword but not yet drawing it from its sheath. "An arrow?!

Nydha did not rise from her crouch for a second, her eyes continuing to scan the parapets, grasping the hilts of her daggers. Deeming them safe for the moment, she finally stood up, glancing at the arrow in question and noticing the little piece of parchment wrapped around its shaft and tied with a string.

A message? She wondered, carefully approaching the arrow. After glancing around one last time, she bent down to retrieve it, pushing down the feeling of dread pooling into her stomach. This better not be some stupid death threat.

She dropped the arrow and rolled open the piece of paper.

'People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring Everyone.

There's a Baddie in Val Royeaux. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the Red things in the market, the docks, and 'round the café, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords.

Friends of Red Jenny'

It was then accompanied by what looked like an attempt to draw a map of the plaza, marked with the places where she was supposed to go. In actuality, the drawing looked more like a severely diseased bunny.

"Huh." Nydha murmured.

"What is it?" Varric asked, unsuccessfully attempting to stand on his toes to read the note himself.

Glancing up, she saw the badly concealed curiosity in Cassandra and Solas' eyes as well.

"Anyone ever hear of the Friends of Red Jenny?" She asked aloud as she handed the note to Varric for him to read.

"Yeah." Varric answered as he handed the note off to Cassandra next. "They're a little like vigilantes. Not the sword and shield type, though. Their main offense is usually prank stuff. Mess with the nobles and other important people."

"So petty rogues, then." Cassandra scoffed as she passed the note to Solas.

"Oi." Nydha protested. "I take offense to that."

The Seeker gave her a flat stare that told her that she really did not care. Nydha smirked back.

"Can't hurt to see what they want, no?" Nydha asked. Her companions shrugged.

They headed towards the café first, seeing as it was the closest. Looking over the guests and the tables, Nydha's eyes were quick to catch sight of a notebook sitting at the edge of one of the tables, a bright red pattern on its cover. After reading the message, she and her companions head towards the docks, where they found another message wrapped within a red handkerchief, the parchment reeking of the smell of fish. Finally they went up to the parapets, scouring the balconies for the last clue, stuffed into a red sock of all things.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Cassandra asked in exasperation. "The notes are nothing but garbled jibberish!"

Nydha chuckled as she read the three notes together and then handed them to Varric, who read them, and then began to snicker.

"Oh my dear warrior. Ever so impatient." Varric said teasingly.

Cassandra furrowed her brows. "What?"

"They are clues." Nydha told her. "One whole message split into three parts. Put them together, and they reveal the path to a meeting place, as well as the time to be there."

Cassandra leaned over Varric's shoulder to re-read the notes.

"It's a rogue thing." The dwarf quipped. "We like to play with words."

The Seeker huffed. "This is why I hate the court. Just say what you mean."

"But that takes all the fun out of it!" Nydha said sarcastically as she led the group back down to the plaza and headed towards the gates.

However, it seemed that they had not had enough mysterious messages for one day, as Nydha noticed a messenger fast approaching them. Her eyes immediately studied his fancy uniform, the colorful fabrics, and the bright gold stitching of the rising sun on his chest that signaled him as a member of the court. This was a very important messenger for a very important person. And with a quick glance at his hands, she noticed the odd calluses.

A mage? For a messenger? She thought with curiosity. Her questioning must have jinxed herself, because the man caught sight of her and began to approach her.

Nydha nearly groaned. No, no go away. I've had enough strange letters for the day!

"You are the Herald of Andraste, are you not?" He asked with a haughty voice.

No, I'm not.

"I have an invitation for you." And with more superiority than she'd ever seen in a messenger boy before, he thrust a very official-looking scroll into her hands.

With a barely perceptible groan, Nydha unrolled the invitation and felt her eyebrows fly into her hairline.

'You are cordially invited to attend my salon held at the château of Duke Bastien de Ghislain.

Yours,

Vivienne de Fer

First Enchanter of Montsimmard

Enchanter to the Imperial Court'

That was a rather brief and pointed message, especially for a courtesan. Nydha could already tell that this was a woman who expected to be obeyed. There was no 'will you please', more of the 'be there or else.' Ugh.

First Enchanter to the Imperial Court? She wondered at the title as she handed the letter to Cassandra.

"A powerful woman." Cassandra said as she glanced at the signature, before reading the message itself. "It seems that we have garnered more attention than we thought."

"What do you think she wants?" Nydha questioned.

"She is a complicated woman." Cassandra murmured. "One can never be sure of her endgame. But should she prove to be an ally to our cause, she will be a great asset."

The Seeker handed the note back to Nydha. The elleth then turned to speak to the messenger. "Tell Lady Vivienne that we would be honored to attend her salon, and give her our thanks for the invitation."

The man bowed, and with a flourish, spun around and marched off.

When the young elf turned back to her companions, their amused expressions greeted her.

"What is it?" She asked, eyeing Varric's smirk with caution.

The dwarf chuckled. "You sounded awfully official there. Taking note from Ruffles, I see."

"You're learning. That's good." Cassandra nodded approvingly. "Perhaps Josephine will make a leader out of you yet."

"Ugh." Nydha grimaced. "You know I hate politics."

"So do I." The Seeker said. "But I still know how to navigate it. You will need to learn, if the Inquisition is to succeed."

"I'm not listening to this." Nydha sighed as she tucked the message into her belt and began to walk towards the gate.

"I'm being serious!" Cassandra and the others rushed to catch up with her.

"So am I." Nydha snapped. "Can you stop being optimistic for once? Gods it's annoying. How do you do it?"

Cassandra snapped her mouth shut and glared at the elf, hurt flashing through her eyes. Whoops. Nydha felt a twinge of guilt before she huffed and pushed the feeling away. She could only play nice for so long with priestesses and templars before she lost control of her temper. Optimists were even worse. How did they always see the best in every situation? The world sucked!

Nydha hightailed it to the exit of the marketplace, intent on making a quick journey to the nearest pub once they returned to the inn they were staying in.

However the events of the day had yet to come to an end that day. As Nydha and her companions walked out of the gate to the Val Royeaux plaza, she noticed shadow detach itself from beneath one of the sculptures and head straight towards them.

This time, Nydha really did let out a groan.

The woman was elven, petite, and held herself with confidence. She was older, with crow's feet around the eyes and close-cropped black hair. Still, she was very pretty as all elven women tend to be, with light green eyes and rosy cheeks that gave the illusion of youth. Her robes clearly stated her status as a Circle mage – whatever that was worth these days. The deep blue fabric, paired with gold embroidery and fur lining designated her as a high ranking mage at that, a full enchanter at the very least.

"If I might have a moment of your time?" She asked them in a rather imperious voice.

If I say no, will it matter? Nydha internally sighed.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra exclaimed with slight surprise.

Oh? Now this is interesting. I thought the Circles were disbanded?

"Leader of the mage rebellion." Solas stated with the same muted surprise. "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"

What? Nydha felt her head whip back to stare carefully at the elf woman. How come I don't know these things?! Josephine! Leliana! I'm going to have some choice words for you two when I get back!

Fiona dipped her head in acknowledgement, eyeing Nydha as if to measure her worth. "I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the Herald of Andraste with my own eyes."

Nydha did not bother to hide her rolling eyes, earning herself a harsh nudge from Cassandra.

"If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option." The mage finished. Now that gained Nydha's attention. The air of mischief dissipated around Nydha, and suddenly Fiona was subject to scrutiny that seemed to bore into her head, as if to see into her head and study her very thoughts.

Nydha tilted her head in a curious manner, eyes sharp. "The leader of the mages, huh? I would have thought that you would have been at the Conclave, no?"

Cassandra turned to Fiona with distrust clear on her face. "Yes," She drawled suspiciously, "And yet somehow you avoided death."

Fiona narrowed her eyes at their accusing tones. "As did the Lord Seeker, you'll note."

Nydha hummed and nodded in agreement. Huh. I had not thought about that.

"Both of us sent negotiators in our stead, in case it was a trap." Fiona explained, staring them in eyes as to reassure them that she meant no slight.

"Well you were not wrong." Nydha shrugged.

"I won't pretend I'm not glad to live." Fiona continued, then her expression became somber. "However I lost many dear friends that day. It disgusts me to think that the Templars will get away with it. I'm hoping you won't let them."

Nydha frowned at that. "The Templars lost men at the Conclave as well." She pointed out.

"Yet Lucius hardly seems broken up over his losses, if he's concerned about them at all." Fiona retorted with the kind of disdain that many mages felt for Templars. Nydha could not help but agree with that observation. "You heard him. You think he wouldn't happily kill the Divine to turn the people against us?"

"That's absurd!" Cassandra protested.

But Nydha shook her head. "No, Cassandra, it is not." The Seeker gave her a look of betrayal, so she explained.

"Lucius is mad. The Templars see magic as the root of all evil – not all of them, but there are more that do than those that don't. If they thought that killing the Divine would give them the opportunity to purge the world of mages, 'for the greater good of the people', who is to say that they would not?" Nydha glanced at Fiona, who was nodding her head in agreement. "We have already seen corruption within the Templar ranks. Who's to say that it does not go deeper?"

The Seeker looked displeased and highly disturbed, but remained silent.

Nydha turned back to the mage. "So, you are offering to help then?"

"Oh, I haven't promised the Inquisition our help yet." Fiona replied, earning herself an unamused stare from the elven girl. "Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe: Come meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both, after all."

"I'll consider it." Nydha gave her a poisonous smile in return.

Fiona gave a small smirk. "I hope to see you there, then. Au revoir, my lady Herald."

"Ugh, don't call me that!"

The Enchantress couldn't help but smirk at Lavellan's whine as she walked away.