Am I in grandma's house?
Ahnnie sniffed the air as she burrowed deeper into her pillows and blankets. A warm orange glow pulsated behind her closed eyelids and a soft, smoky smell tickled the edge of her nose. Someone's burning incense, she thought, and images of gilded gods and long-dead ancestors atop an altar flashed briefly through her mind. They slowly faded into nothing as she let herself sink back into blissful oblivion.
Two dreams later, she cracked open her eyes and frowned. But wait – I don't go to grandma's house anymore. I don't remember these blankets, either...
The smoke's scent transformed itself as the realization sank in, becoming the tang of burning wood and not the sweet musk of incense. Ahnnie blinked and rose her head, glaring uncertainly at the wooden wall and bookshelf directly across from her.
Crash!
"Oh!" someone gasped.
Ahnnie turned her head towards the noise and found herself staring at a skinny girl; elven, she noticed when she saw the ears. She looked absolutely mortified, and with the way her arms were open about her, Ahnnie guessed that she'd just dropped something. That would explain the crashing sound.
"I didn't know you were awake, I swear," the girl apologized, her voice quivering. When Ahnnie started to rise, she took a step back, as if the drowsy human before her would suddenly leap out and swallow her whole.
Why is she so afraid? Ahnnie wondered. Rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes, she brushed unkempt hair out of her face and said, "It's okay...but, um, where am I?"
She was shocked out of her sleepiness a moment later when the elven girl fell on all fours and prostrated herself. "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing," she trembled. "I am but a humble servant."
"I...I forgive you?"
"You're back in Haven, my lady," she continued. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days!"
So it wasn't a nightmare, Ahnnie thought. I'm still stuck in this place with monsters and Breaches...But wow. Three days? How did she manage to sleep that long?
When her left hand came up to wipe some more at her eyes, she saw the green mark for herself and noticed that it had grown to garish proportions, almost threatening to spill off the corners of her hand, but no longer flared – instead, it glowed with a steady green light. And then she remembered the Breach.
"I stopped the Breach!" Ahnnie cried in delight. "I mean, I closed the first rift!" she corrected herself. "And you say it stopped the Breach's growth?"
"Y-yes..."
Relief had never felt any sweeter. "What now?" she asked the girl excitedly.
"Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened," the elven girl began. "She said 'at once'!"
Ahnnie threw off the blankets and touched her sock-covered feet to the ground; cold stone chilled her toes even through the woolen fabric. "Where is she?"
"In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once', she said!"
Chancellor...and then Ahnnie remembered Chancellor Roderick. Oh. That took some of the wind out of her sails. "What's a Chantry?" she asked a moment later, but her question lay unanswered when a door was shut and Ahnnie looked up to see that the elven girl had run out, leaving behind the box she'd dropped.
O...kay...I'll just figure it out for myself, then.
She rose to her feet and winced a little at an uncomfortable pressure in her left foot. It wasn't as painful as before, though; on the contrary, it felt as though the damned toe was finally healing. Ahnnie wiggled her toes and found that the pinky and fourth toe felt like they were still buddy-bound. Also, Cassandra's makeshift padding was gone. That was good, although she wondered if whoever brought her to this place bothered changing the gauze or left it as it was?
Speaking of this place, it looked like a tiny one-room cabin constructed with wooden planks. A hearty fire roared directly to the left of the bed, and a desk and chair with papers littered over it sat by the wall on the other side. She hobbled curiously to the desk, but was sidetracked by a chest hiding in a nook between the side of the fireplace and the wall. With a flip of the latches, she opened the chest to reveal two sets of folded clothes, her orthopaedic shoe, and lengths of bandage wrapping.
They kept this, she thought incredulously as she touched the shoe. Moving onto the clothes, she realized that her pajamas were there, too. She doubted she could wear them, though; they were made of light cotton fabric, unsuitable for the harsh winter climate of...Haven, is what that girl said. For while there was a fire and small torches in sconces throughout the cabin, Ahnnie could still feel the chill through the stones at her feet. The air was warmer thanks to the flames, but it simply wasn't enough to wear something like her pajamas.
The next pile of clothes was something more akin to the tunic and breeches she'd worn three days ago, only this time it came along with a rustic fur coat and cap. She grabbed these and made to move back to the bed, but then remembered the desk.
I hope these aren't important, she thought as she reached for one of the papers. When her eyes scanned the words, however, she was disappointed, and maybe even a little confused, to find that she couldn't read them. They were in another alphabet entirely...like the Norse runes she'd seen in several books back home, with some different shapes.
She set the paper back down and hobbled to her bed to change her clothes. And yet before she could do so, her bladder was assaulted with an uncomfortable pressure that made her press her knees together to keep it from exploding.
Crap. I've been asleep for three days – of course I need to pee!
She frantically looked for a door that might seem like it led to the bathroom. Nope, there was only one door, and it looked like it led outside. Did they have bathrooms outdoors? Oh, how could they do this to her?
And then she spotted it: the chamber pot.
No. Just, no.
She wasn't ignorant. She knew her history. She loved history. All her life, she devoured books on history, culture, and civilizations – she knew a chamber pot when she saw one. It was hard to dismiss it as anything else; a large ceramic hybrid between a pot and a bowl, just sitting there on the ground. Unless it was a spittoon, and considering that she had no tobacco chewing habits...or that this place had something like tobacco to chew, per her assumptions...
She finished her business quickly and put the chamber pot behind her, thinking how unfortunate the poor sap who had to clear it out must be. Was it that elven girl, by any chance? If so, Ahnnie could only muster a small amount of pity, for there was no way she was going to do it herself. The thought was revolting.
Once she was back by the bed, she slid her woolen nightshirt off and felt a binding tightness around her ribs; when she looked down, she found bandages wrapped around her latest injury. No magic? she wondered as she remembered how Solas had healed her. Then she thought of how...awkward, it would be for him to do so while she was unconscious, so she let it pass. The bandages looked clean and she felt nothing from it, anyway. Then after pulling on a breast strap (the medieval equivalent to a bra, she supposed), she got herself into her new tunic and thick leggings before wrapping herself up in the fur coat.
Ahnnie found a brush on a table by the foot of her bed and worked the knots out of her hair before plopping the fur cap on top. Nice and snug, she remarked. A wash basin was also on the table, so she gave her face a quick wipe and swished a bit of the water in her mouth, spitting it out onto the stone. She next grabbed a pair of boots lying nearby and put them on before she could forget. When she straightened, she felt ready for whatever lay outside.
It'd better not be any demons, she hoped jokingly as she walked to the door and pushed it open...
Quite the contrary. It was a long queue of soldiers lining the path, standing in reverent salute to her with their fists pressed over their chests, like they were doing a fisted pledge-of-allegiance to the flag. Crowds of townspeople stood behind them, murmuring amongst themselves as their eyes all turned on her.
Uh...what?
Ahnnie must have stood there a while with her mouth open, because the soldier closest to her walked up the steps to where she stood and saluted her. "My lady. Lady Cassandra wishes to speak with you and mentioned that your foot was hurting – would you like an escort?"
"I...where?"
"To the Chantry, my lady."
"What is that?"
The soldier paused, as if unable to explain, and then pointed up a little ways to the left. "It's just over there, my lady." He proffered his arm a moment later, like a suave gentleman.
She blinked, still unable to believe what was happening. "Um, it's okay...I can walk. My foot feels better."
"Are you sure, my lady?"
Please stop calling me that. To him, she just nodded.
"Very well." He withdrew, but not without some hesitance.
The girl looked uncertainly at the crowd about her before making her descent. Dozens of eyes tracked her every move, and while it wasn't in anger like last time, it was no less discomfiting. The atmosphere was so nerve-wracking that she found herself counting the steps to keep from looking at all the curious faces. One, two, three, four, five...She was dismayed to find no similar distractions down the path, the people's whispers growing too loud and obvious in her ears.
"That's her. That's the Herald of Andraste. They said when she came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over her."
"Why did Lady Cassandra have her in chains? I thought Seekers knew everything."
"It's complicated; we were all frightened after the explosion at the Chantry."
"It isn't complicated. Andraste herself blessed her."
"Indeed! Her skin is of pale gold – she is clearly Andraste's chosen!"
Ahnnie frowned.
"I've never seen someone like that before..."
"Ah, but she looks so young. Poor dear."
"Maker be with you." It took a while for her to realize that this last one was directed at her. She turned in the direction from which she heard it.
"Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste!" another person called out to her.
Ahnnie turned back around, her head swimming with questions. What are they talking about? Who is this On-drahs-tay? And didn't they hate me three days ago?
The path turned left and led her to a bigger stone staircase. She sighed in relief to find no soldiers flanking the stairs and made her way up, but a soldier broke from the line regardless and held her by the elbow as she ascended.
"I'm fine, really," she kept on insisting, but he never left her side until she reached the top. She shivered as she walked as far away from him as possible. Directly overhead, accessible by another set of stairs to the left, stood a moderately sized stone building carved in ornate fashion, like a church or gilded town hall. It was the fanciest building here, at any rate; the others were just wooden cabins like her own, or measly tents.
The Chantry? she guessed. It must be so; it looked important. There were Chantry sisters and brothers standing outside it, further confirming to her the building's identity as the 'Chantry'. She frowned as she made her way towards it, somehow finding it familiar. She looked briefly at the impromptu camp set up in front of the building to see if Cassandra might be there, but when she didn't see the Seeker, she continued towards the doors, recognizing them the closer she came.
This is where I was imprisoned!
She paused in her steps and looked back towards the town; yes, this was the view she had when Cassandra led her out! She was amazed she hadn't realized it sooner. And now Cassandra was expecting her to return to that very building?
Everyone seems to like me now, she thought, and the Breach stopped growing...perhaps it's for something else? She's wouldn't throw me back in prison, right?
Turning back around, Ahnnie pursed her lips tight as she came up to the door. A bright yellow sunburst with what looked like an eye in the middle was painted over the wood. She looked at it and thought of the Illuminati symbol.
A Chantry sister, recognizing her, pushed the doors open with a smile and a nod. "Go in peace, Herald of Andraste," she said.
"Maker watch over you," another one chimed in.
Ahnnie nodded at them. "You too," she said in an attempt at politeness, and stepped inside.
She was immediately engulfed in a dimly lit hall, carpeted in the middle with a long rug of dark green and decorated with little clusters of candles on the floor in front of pillars that lined the hall on either side. Red wall hangings sporting the yellow sunburst peeked out from between the pillars, and as the sweet scent of the candles wafted up into her nostrils, Ahnnie was struck with the sense that this was a religious building.
A religious building with a prison below it, she thought sullenly.
At the end of the hall was a door flanked by impressive stone pillars and crowned with a bigger hanging of the yellow sunburst. Ahnnie walked up to it, thinking it must be where Cassandra was waiting. She was proved wrong when she went by a similar door to her right and heard the Seeker's muffled voice – along with the Chancellor's – arguing from behind.
Her head went from the door at the end of the hall to this door tucked away on the right. I thought it was...oh, whatever. She steeled herself for the upcoming confrontation and pulled open the door.
Cassandra, Leliana, and the Chancellor were standing by a long table; Cassandra and Leliana to one side, the Chancellor to the other side. The physical gap between them was enough to tell Ahnnie that the mood was not pretty, never mind their faces. As she went past the guards standing sentinel inside the room, she felt their eyes turn sharply to her and flinched.
"Chain her," Roderick ordered, his voice booming against the stone. "I want her prepared for travel to the capital for a trial."
The guards moved behind her and Ahnnie's heart sank when she remembered Cassandra saying there would be a trial. So I'm going to be imprisoned again, she thought. How else were they going to keep her before she would be judged?
"Disregard that, and leave us," Cassandra negated.
The guards saluted the Seeker with that fist pledge of theirs and walked away, closing the door behind them.
Ahnnie turned to Cassandra with what must have been an obvious expression of relief and gratitude on her face. The Seeker only made brief eye contact with her before breaking it off to face the Chancellor again.
And he was not happy. "You walk a dangerous line, Seeker."
Cassandra rounded the table to come up to him. "The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat," she said, challenging him with her sharp glare. "I will not ignore it."
Chancellor Roderick did not back down, meeting her gaze with an equally incensed one of his own.
"Um, excuse me?" Ahnnie's timid voice cut through the tension.
They turned to her.
"If I may say something..." She focused on the wall past their faces in a semblance of looking at them, and continued, "I have no idea what's going on. I'm not sure if you were told yet, Chancellor, but I was whisked away from my home by this green light after it tried to attack my dogs. A rift, I think. Thing is, I don't think that this place I came to is the same as the place I came from." She sighed. "What I mean is...I think I'm from another world entirely."
The Chancellor scoffed. "Preposterous," he muttered.
"Please, listen to me," she begged. "I know it sounds like I'm trying to make excuses, but I came out from the Fade, from another place, at that – how could I have caused the explosion?" She looked towards Leliana. "This Conclave, you must have a guest list or something for it. I don't look like anyone who was invited to come there, right?"
Leliana frowned, shaking her head.
"In fact, I don't look like anyone from this place at all!" She was not very sure about that yet, but pressed on with it anyway since it seemed as though the inhabitants of wherever-this-was thought she looked strange. "And this thing on my hand? I know even less of that. At least I know how I got here! But how this got here–" She held up her left hand, showing them the mark. "I have absolutely no clue. And you can't say it caused the explosion," she quickly added before Roderick might make a connection, however erroneous it would be.
"A very...interesting argument," the Chancellor said after a while. "And yet you have little to show for it besides the fact that you were the only survivor...a convenient result, insofar as you're concerned."
"You don't have solid evidence that clearly links me to the explosion, either."
His frown deepened. "But the Breach is still in the sky; for all we know, you intended it this way. I'm sure the Trevelyans will want to know what has become of their son as well."
Ahnnie fought to keep her head straight. How did he know of that? I thought only Solas, Varric, and Cassandra heard it...but it might have been recorded in a report somewhere made by one of the soldiers accompanying them, or Cassandra herself. Still, he wanted to pin that on her? What else would he accuse her of?
"Have a care, Chancellor," Cassandra cut in before the girl could say something, a sharp edge in her voice. "The Breach is not the only threat we face."
Leliana picked up on this chance to speak. "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live." Her steely blue eyes cut through the Chancellor's as she uttered this last point.
He was infuriated. "I am a suspect?" he spluttered.
"You, and many others," Leliana confirmed.
His mousy face twisted into a scowl. "But not the prisoner," he snarled, casting an angry glare Ahnnie's way.
"It is as she said – she does not fit the description of anyone sent to attend the Conclave."
"So her survival, that thing on her hand, and the Trevelyan's son's disappearance...all a coincidence?" The Chancellor sounded disgusted. "How are we to know she's not a demon from the Fade, influencing us all?"
"Providence, Chancellor," Cassandra argued. "The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."
Ahnnie fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable. "So...am I still a suspect, or am I innocent?"
"You were exactly what we needed, when we needed it," Cassandra responded. "A demon would not have saved us – but you did." She gave the girl an acknowledging nod and Ahnnie thought of her wounded side, remembering what it took to stabilize the Breach. Perhaps that, as well as the other dangers she faced that day, earned her a good impression in the Seeker's eyes.
"The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it," Leliana added.
But the Chancellor would not hear of it. "This is not for you to decide," he spat.
Cassandra, ignoring him, walked over to a table in the corner and picked something up in her hands. When she came back, she slammed a thick tome on the table in front of them and the noise made Ahnnie jump. The Seeker jabbed it with an imperious finger, challenging the Chancellor yet again with a hard stare. "You know what this is, Chancellor?" She paused to let the question sink in, before continuing, "A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."
The Seeker straightened up and strode confidently towards the Chancellor, forcing him back the more she spoke. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order, with or without your approval." When she finished, she was inches away from his face, staring down on him as though he were an inconsequential subordinate. And he was taller than her.
I hope I'm never at the other end of that stare, Ahnnie thought as she watched the Chancellor make his silent retreat. He aimed a last withering look at her, but she pretended not to notice.
Leliana came up to the book, staring reverently at its dark leather cover, framed in a silvery metal and decorated with a metallic sunburst in the middle. "The Divine's directive," she remarked softly. "Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who would stand against the chaos." She looked up purposefully at Ahnnie. "We aren't ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support at our side."
"But we have no choice," Cassandra interjected. She, too, turned to Ahnnie. "We must act now...with you at our side."
Though Ahnnie knew nothing of what was going on, she couldn't help but feel that a burdensome responsibility was being placed on her shoulders. Her confusion threatened to overwhelm her; she opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again. "I still have no idea what's going on," she said at last. "The Conclave, the Breach, templars, mages, Chantry, and now the Inquisition–" That word was all the more ridiculous to her when she thought of the Spanish Inquisition. "–if someone could explain this to me, it'd be much appreciated."
"Certainly." And Cassandra gave her a summary that, had it been recited under normal circumstances, would have sounded like the synopsis of a movie:
Their world, Thedas, was split in a war between templars and mages. Mages were usually kept in towers called Circles, connected under the unifying title of Circle of Magi, and the templars were an order of knights that watched over them. This was because mages drew their power from the Fade, which made them particularly susceptible to demonic possessions that could turn them into abominations of destructive capacity, if corrupted. The war started when the mages rebelled and declared the Circle of Magi separate from the Chantry, becoming apostates; or in simpler terms, rebel mages. The Conclave was the Divine's attempt to restore peace between the two factions, and leaders from both sides had been present. Ahnnie already knew how that ended.
As for the Chantry, it was the dominant religious organization in Thedas. The more Cassandra explained it, the more Ahnnie thought it similar to the Vatican from her world. The Chantry's main holy text was the Chant of Light, a series of teachings written by Andraste, bride and prophet of the Maker. That seemed to be in sync with the Holy Bible and some mix of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and God. At its head was the Divine, an authority figure not unlike the Pope, except that this religion seemed to work in reverse: Divines were predominantly women. In fact, it was more of the custom for Chantry priests to be women. Men could still hold other important roles, however, as Chancellor Roderick seemed to prove. As to how the Chantry tied in with the templars and Circle of Magi, the Templar Order was a military order of the Chantry and the Circle of Magi was – or had been – governed and monitored by the Chantry.
"Do you understand now?" Cassandra asked when she was done.
Ahnnie nodded. "But do I have to...to do this?" she asked a moment later, her hand gesturing futilely at the tome on the table.
"You can go, if you wish," Leliana said. "But while some believe you chosen, many still think you guilty. You are also not familiar with Thedas...so as you can see, the Inquisition can help you."
She hadn't necessarily been thinking of running away, more like not accepting the burden of what sounded like ending a war in addition to sealing the Breach (a war, for God's sake!), but Leliana had a point. Ahnnie would need to stay with the Inquisition, whether she liked it or not, because she couldn't fend for herself otherwise. It sounded like an unsavory parallel to her life back home.
Cassandra suddenly came over to her and she looked up, wondering what the Seeker was going to say. "It will not be easy if you stay," she admitted, "but you cannot pretend this has not changed you." Well, that was true. And just as suddenly, she extended a hand towards the girl, like she was asking for a handshake. "Help us fix this...before it's too late."
Ahnnie stared awhile at the woman's gloved hand. Unlike home, the Inquisition sounded like a good chance to do things free of the veil of terror she had always lived with. The people she'd met...who she'd fought beside...they were different from her mother and stepfather. They were honorable. But then she frowned, remembering how they had imprisoned her and how she was still at their mercy. What if things went well, only to sour later? What would she do then?
Her hand slowly slid towards Cassandra's, and when their palms connected, the Seeker grasped it firmly and gave a single hearty shake. The gesture was supposed to be encouraging and reassuring; but as Ahnnie withdrew her hand, she prayed she would not end up worse than she was...that she would become more than she hoped, instead of fall even farther down her abyss.
Ahnnie attacked the food with a ravenous gusto she never thought was possible in her. The moment she had entered the Singing Maiden, situated on the western edge of Haven, her stomach grumbled when the smell of hot food hit her in the face like a rushing wall. As Varric led her over to an empty table for two, her knees weakened as she remembered she hadn't eaten ever since she came to this world; er, Thedas. Perhaps whoever had been tending to her while she was still unconscious nourished her with broth, but it was hardly the sustenance her stomach was growling for now.
She was amply rewarded when a serving girl laid out a nice, big bowl of mutton stew and a roll of hardened bread in front of her. For drink, she stated that water was good, and kept it close at hand. As for Varric, he had been content with simply a mug of ale – when she asked him if he was hungry, he shook his head and said he'd already eaten.
"Hey, slow down," he chuckled as she shoveled spoonfuls of stew into her mouth. "You don't want them saying the Herald saved Haven only to choke on a piece of mutton, do you?"
She heaved a giggle through her full mouth, swallowed, and rinsed it down with some water.
Varric grinned. "That's what I thought." A moment later, his smile straightened, and he sighed. "So...now that Cassandra's out of earshot, are you holding up all right? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day."
Ahnnie ate another spoonful of stew before replying. "I don't really know. I now know why there was a Conclave and what a Chantry is, but..." She frowned. "I don't really think I have a choice."
"Sure you do."
"No, I don't." She sighed. "I guess I should just be glad I'm still alive."
Varric chuckled again. "I still can't believe you survived Cassandra. And you even threatened legal action against her! You're lucky you were out cold for most of her frothing rage."
Ahnnie blushed as she remembered her 'threat'. "Eheh," she chuckled nervously.
"'Course, she wasn't angry at you." Varric took a swig at his ale and gave a breathy sigh of satisfaction when he set down the mug. "But what I would've given to witness that moment." He shook his head, as if he had missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime.
It was scary, Ahnnie thought, remembering the expression on the Seeker's face. She pushed it away with more spoonfuls of stew interspersed with dips of the bread, and when the bowl was almost empty, she stopped using her spoon to sop it all up with the bread instead. "So, Varric," she began, one side of her mouth chewing the stew soaked bread, "you're not a prisoner anymore, right? What were you a prisoner for, anyway?"
He shook his head. "Nope, I'm a free man now. As for my crime..." He chuckled. "Cassandra wanted to know a little something about a good friend of mine. Thought he'd be useful to the Divine for the Conclave, but that's not important now," he dismissed with a wave. "At least, not anymore."
"Oh." She took some time to digest the information before asking, "Does this mean you'll be leaving?"
The dwarf arched an eyebrow at her. "Is that a hint of sadness I hear?" he teased, a smile cracking on his face.
Ahnnie gave a helpless shrug. "Well, I just...I mean...that's what you would do, right? Now that you're free to go." That's what I would've done, if I were able to. At the same time, she was loathe to see him leave – he was the warmest person she'd met since coming to Thedas. The moments when he inquired after her during their trek to the Breach did not go unforgotten. Plus, his jokes were funny. If she was going to go through with this new responsibility of hers, she would love it if someone like him were close by.
He studied her a moment, a hand absentmindedly swirling the ale around in the mug. Then, he said, "I like to think I'm as selfish as the next guy–"
"Oh, I wasn't saying you were selfish," Ahnnie quickly apologized.
Varric waved it away lightheartedly. "Hey, no offense taken. But anyways, thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there's a hole in the sky; even I can't walk away and just leave that to sort itself out."
Ahnnie nodded, hiding her embarrassed face by taking a drink from her cup. I suppose he's right, she thought. Despite that, she wished she didn't have to be burdened by this sudden new duty. She wished...damn, she didn't even know what she wished for. Did she wish the light in the backyard had not tried to harm her dogs? That it would've gone and left her to live as she'd always been? Or that she could come to this world...but live in it without a care to anyone else? A perfect escapist dream.
Nonsense! I want to go home...right?
The stirring of a stringed instrument suddenly tinkled in the air; Ahnnie looked up and saw a dark haired woman taking up a stool by the fireplace, a lute held skillfully in her arms. She played a little melody before opening her mouth to sing a song, a song so soft and light it was like a lullaby. The woman's voice flowed perfectly between the notes, rising and falling in accurate timing to the rhythm. Her song filled Ahnnie with a sense of nostalgia for better times. It was a song of kingdoms and peace, a people unafraid of the darkness; of keeping the Fade from their lives, and holding together a fragile sky.
Ahnnie did not miss the references to the Breach. Even if they weren't originally meant for the song, they were too hard to dismiss, especially in this time. The Breach may have been stabilized, but Ahnnie still saw green lights in the clouds where it was supposed to be. Cassandra and Leliana very prudently repeated this fact back at the Chantry, as well.
Varric noticed the morose expression in her eyes and turned to the singer. "Maryden, are you trying to sing us to sleep, or what? Here's a coin for 'Andraste's Mabari'. Keep it lively, y'hear?"
A shimmering object was flicked from the dwarf over to the bard, who caught it in a deft fist. "Whatever you say, Master Tethras," Maryden winked, and started up her lute again in a more plucky tune.
Ahnnie listened to the first stanza (quite a humorous one about a dog, as she found out a few lines in) before turning to Varric with a smile. "Thanks."
"Always happy to help," he said as he raised his mug and drank again.
Ahnnie also drank from her cup, and was suddenly aware of a group of patrons joking about something from the table behind her. She would not have paid attention had they not said 'Herald of Andraste', the moniker she'd come to know as her new title amongst the people. It sounded as if they were joking to someone rather than about her, though; Chancellor Roderick was the only person who still despised her, so that was unlikely. Curious, she turned her head slightly in that direction, wondering what the fuss was all about.
She found herself facing a wide-eyed little girl, no older than five, who jolted when their eyes met.
The patrons laughed at child's skittishness, although it was in a more affectionate tease than a derisive mirth. Varric peered over Ahnnie's shoulder to see what was going on and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you've got a fan," he remarked.
Ahnnie opened her mouth to say something, shut it when she was unable to think of anything, and turned to the little girl. "Hi there," she greeted. "What's your name?"
The child shyly brushed away a messy lock of light brown hair. "Netta," she murmured, her blue eyes twinkling with a mix of awe, disbelief, and delight.
"What a pretty name," Ahnnie smiled. "How old are you, Netta?"
"Five."
"Five! Wow, what a big girl you are!"
Bolstered by Ahnnie's friendliness, Netta smiled back and slowly stepped towards her. "Is it true?" she then asked.
"Is what true?" Ahnnie asked back.
"That you're made of gold?"
She could hear Varric stifling a laugh behind his mug of ale. Before she could debunk this myth, however, the dwarf was leaning over to the child with a mischievous grin on his face. "Oh, not just that; her eyes are of the finest Antivan glass, her teeth of the whitest pearls from the Waking Sea, and her nails the thinnest films of Nevarran crystals you've ever seen."
Netta's eyes sparkled with an even greater amazement and she gave a gasp of awe when she turned back to look at Ahnnie.
"N-no, he's just joking!" she quickly deflected. "I'm just a regular human. Like you." When the child didn't seem to believe her, she held out a hand – the unmarked one – for her to touch. Netta brushed it lightly with her small fingers, as if afraid that Ahnnie would crumble if she poked too roughly.
"Oh, Netta!" A short haired woman came up to the table, hands on her hips. "You know better than to bother our guests. And the Herald of Andraste, at that!"
Ahnnie shook her head. "Oh no, she wasn't a bother. And, um, my name is Ahnnie. Not Herald of–"
"C'mon, live a little," Varric teased with a fist to her arm. "The people love you now! Save the modesty for later."
Ahnnie blushed, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. "That's..."
The short haired woman chuckled. "There's no denying what you've done for us all – but if you insist. I'm Flissa, the innkeeper. I trust you and Master Tethras have had an enjoyable time? Netta wasn't too much of a nuisance?"
"You can't blame the little tyke," Varric put in. "By the day's end, she'll be hearing about how the Herald single-handedly brought down two terror demons and a giant pride demon, and saved an entire troop of soldiers on the mountain pass in one fell swoop."
Ahnnie stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "I did not do all that!"
Varric shrugged. "But that's what people will say. Or have said; they're probably a step ahead of me on that point. Ever heard of legends where you come from? How else d'you think they come into existence?"
She shook her head with an exasperated sigh, to which Flissa chuckled again. "We're doing good," she said at last to the innkeeper. "The food was delicious; the best I've ever eaten in my life." Probably because she was so hungry, but there was no denying that it was truly good.
"Osbert will be glad to hear that," Flissa remarked with a nod. "You've him to thank for your meal." Turning to Netta, she said, "Run along now. Old Osbert's got some scraps you can go give to Lady; it's her suppertime, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mama!" And just like that, Netta rushed out of view, ducking past the counter and into the kitchens.
Ahnnie watched her fondly, a tiny smile crinkling the edges of her eyes. "Your daughter's so adorable," she said to Flissa.
"Ah." Flissa shook her head. "She's not mine. I adopted her."
"Oh."
"Her parents were lost in the Mage-Templar war a year back. She was brought here by relatives fleeing the chaos...they died as well some months ago from disease, so I took her in. Hasn't stopped calling me 'mama' ever since."
Ahnnie grew quiet, wondering what that experience must have been like for the child.
"These are troubling times," Varric remarked.
"Indeed," Flissa agreed. She heaved a sigh, as if to release the sadness, and perked up a moment later. "Well, I shan't bother you any longer; is there anything you might need? More ale for you, Master Tethras?" She hailed a serving maid over when he nodded and turned back to them. "Don't worry about this; it's on the house."
"Nah, c'mon, Flissa – you know I can't do that," Varric protested.
"No, no, I insist. For the Herald; er, Ahnnie." She smiled at the girl, who quickly balked.
"I'm sor–"
But Flissa cut her off with two fingers towards her lower face. "You needn't apologize. It's an honor."
And so the verbal tug-of-war between innkeeper, dwarf, and flustered girl commenced. Apparently, it was so humorous that some of the other patrons stopped in their merrymaking to watch it unfold, though perhaps it was more out of curiosity about the dwarf and the girl than any of the negotiations. In the end, Flissa got to treat them, Varric was able to pay for his second round of ale, and Ahnnie was left promising she'd somehow pay it all back...even though she was technically broke.
In the midst of the pandemonium, they did not notice little Netta scurrying out of the kitchen and up to their table, a bowl of scraps in her hands. Ahnnie was only alerted to her presence when she felt a gentle tug on her coat, and turned to look.
"Would you like to come feed Lady with me?" Netta asked her sweetly.
"Oh, for Andraste's sake – Netta!" Flissa chided. To Ahnnie, she apologized, "I'm sorry about this. Lady's a dog we took in some time ago. Netta shows her off every chance she gets, but this is the first time she's asked anyone to help feed her."
Ahnnie waved the matter away. "It's all right. I like dogs. If you don't mind, Varric?"
The dwarf shook his head. "Who am I to stop the Herald of Andraste?"
The only quip she had to that was an exasperated look before she rose from her chair to follow the little girl. "I'll be quick," she assured Varric, and was led across the tavern towards a side door, which she held open for Netta in consideration of her full hands. She was aware of the stares that followed her as she went by, but placed her focus on Netta instead. They were out in the cold for a brief moment before entering a small stable, dimly lit by a lantern hanging on the wall. Ahnnie almost choked on the overwhelming scent of horse and breathed through her mouth instead.
An older man whom she guessed was the ostler made to greet Netta with a smile, but paused with widened eyes when he saw the black haired girl behind her. Luckily, he made no fuss about the 'Herald of Andraste' and they were left in peace to enter a stall on the far left. There was no need to open the stall door, for it was already opened, and revealed a medium-sized brown dog lying in the center of the straw, breed unknown.
A mutt, maybe? Ahnnie thought as she watched the dog stand up to greet Netta enthusiastically. The dog, or Lady, looked like one to her, but Thedas being a different world, one could never be too certain.
Lady greeted Ahnnie next, and she couldn't help but smile as she scratched behind those floppy brown ears. Ah, dogs; their bright, innocent eyes never failed to charm her. A second later, Lady was down on her back, exposing her belly for a rub, and Ahnnie happily reciprocated.
"Silly Lady!" Netta giggled. "It's time to eat now!"
As if on cue, Lady rolled up and stared longingly at the bowl, whining softly. The little girl set the bowl in front of her head and backed away as the dog tucked in, a little hand placed on Ahnnie's arm to indicate that she should do the same.
"Mama says you must never stand too close to a dog when it's eating," Netta warned.
Smart kid, Ahnnie thought. Although it would be better for her if Lady was trained against food aggression. She decided to make a mental note of that, to see if she could help in some way later. She had experience in that regard. Almost immediately, she remembered Bilbo. Man, was he a tough cookie! Akitas – American Akitas, specifically – were known for being protective over their food. When Bilbo was discovering solid food for the first time, he displayed the expected tendencies: stiff postures, bared teeth, throaty growls.
While she had never been able to train him out of food aggression between other dogs, she was able to break him out of that habit with humans (or at least, the humans that fed him). She not only managed to sit close to him while he ate, but also touch his food and even yank it away without complaint. But that was a young puppy; Lady looked like a full grown dog. It might take time for her to come to that point, or even not at all. But if I can make her simply more accepting than she is right now...
The more she thought of it, the more Bilbo's furry face popped up in her mind. Then she thought of how far away she was from him, and her heart clenched. I'd hoped I could still visit him since Tennessee isn't far from Georgia. But now...I don't even have his parents nearby to comfort me...
"Do you like dogs?" Netta's little voice asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Ahnnie turned to her, smiling. "Yes – in fact, I love them. They're my favorite animal."
Netta giggled. "Mine, too!"
"Really? I guess we have something in common, then."
The expression on Netta's face indicated to Ahnnie that the little girl was on cloud nine. "Do you have a dog, too?" she squealed a moment later, barely unable to contain her excitement. When Ahnnie nodded, she looked about ready to burst with joy.
"I have two," Ahnnie then said, her voice trembling a little from trying to contain an amused chuckle. "Big dogs." She indicated their height with her hand, which made Netta gasp because it meant those dogs' heads reached well up to the little girl's chest. "A female and a male, Cixi and Cao-Cao."
"Suh-shee and Cow-cow?" Netta giggled. "What silly names!"
"Well, did you know those're the names of a famous empress and warlord where I come from?"
Netta giggled even harder, but Ahnnie couldn't blame her.
"Cixi was dowager empress of China in the nineteenth century," Ahnnie went on. "Cao-Cao"–although she had to admit, her pronunciation of his name was wrong. It was actually Tsao-tsao, but her family stuck with a hard 'ck' pronunciation that little Netta twisted as a soft 'c'–"was warlord and Chancellor of the Eastern Han Dynasty in the two-hundreds."
It didn't surprise her that the little girl had no clue of what she was talking about, but before any further questions could be asked, Lady stepped back from the bowl and allowed Netta to pick it up. Ahnnie straightened up accordingly, giving Lady one last pat on the head before following Netta back into the tavern. As the snow fell, she released a breathy sigh of vapor and closed her eyes for a moment. Cixi, Cao-Cao, Bilbo...god, do I miss you guys. Seeing Lady reminded her so much of them, even though they were different types of dogs altogether. The eyes were the culprit. They were round, and deep, and dark...just like her dogs'. It was ironic how she'd been through the Fade and fought demons, and yet the things that should haunt her most were Lady's big saucer eyes.
When they came back inside, Netta was called away by Flissa to keep her out of the way. The innkeeper also mentioned it was nearing the child's bedtime, but Ahnnie suspected it was still because she was afraid of imposing on the 'Herald's' time. Ahnnie sat back down with Varric anyway and his lively banter cheered her up, making her forget that gnawing sadness for a moment. He told her stories of what sounded like his own previous adventures, but they sounded so outlandish that even she, with what she'd been through, had a hard time believing them. Still, it was all in good fun. She retired to the one-room cabin that night, her belly full and her limbs warmed by the bright fire – freshly stoked, she'd noticed. But she spent a better part of the night lying awake, thinking. It was only until her eyelids grew so heavy they closed on their own, without her even knowing, that she was able to get some rest.
A/N: I wasn't sure about posting lyrics from a video game song (y'know, site guidelines and all), but in case you were wondering, it was "Once We Were".