"What have you done with Maxwell?"
The question was sharp, accusatory, and succinct – the eyes hostile and stony, two wells of shimmering blue vehemence.
Ahnnie's mouth worked fruitlessly to make a reply. Her hands grew clammy and her thoughts, scrambled. What should she say? What answer should she give to lessen the damage, now irrevocably done? As the possibilities ran through her mind, she crossed them out one by one. None of them were good. None of them would help. She was no smooth talker; she couldn't think of the right words to save her life.
How could she have let this happen? What signs had she missed, what clues had she overlooked? It was all so unclear, for the more she thought of them, the more she seemed to see pointers that led to this confrontation. And yet, there was no possible way she could have foreseen it with the way things had been going.
It was a bright and glorious morning. The sun shone resplendently upon Haven, casting a warm glow about the Chantry's stones. A cheery breeze blew through the banners waving upon the Chantry roof and played with the black strands of Ahnnie's hair, tickling her neck most delightfully.
She stood at the entrance with the Commander from the mountain to her right, Cassandra and a dark haired woman in golden ruffles to her left, and Leliana directly behind her. Her right hand was enclosed around the shaft of her new glaive-guisarme, its silvery blade gleaming sharply in the bright sunlight.
And above them all, draped over the Chantry's grand archway, billowed a large brown banner. Embroidered upon it in white was a narrow eye emanating sunrays, pierced by a sword.
"Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who would stand against he chaos–" The Commander's proud voice rang out to the crowd gathered below, soldiers and civilians alike. "Those were the words of the late Divine Justinia. She had intended for the Inquisition to broker peace between the mages and templars if the Conclave failed; now, not only has the Conclave been destroyed, but a greater threat hangs in the sky above our heads."
The people murmured as they looked back towards the mountains north of Haven, where the swirling green light of the Breach illuminated the sky.
"And so it is today that the Inquisition has been reborn. We face not only the continued conflict of the Mage-Templar war, but the Breach, rifts, and demons as well. With the Chantry incapacitated and no other capable authority available, the Inquisition must be the one to bring order back to Thedas."
"We have at our side someone with the power to make it happen," Cassandra began. "A person whom the Maker sent to us in our time of need." She turned to Ahnnie, her hand flaring out at the girl in presentation. "Diễm Anh of the Phạm family, native of another world, the Herald of Andraste!"
Cassandra's pronunciation was hardly on point. The name sounded more like 'Yemen' than the proper 'Yee-um Un', missing the roller coaster tone on Diễm, and simply 'Fom' without much thought to the deep-down tone of Phạm. Ahnnie couldn't blame her, though; she preferred an attempt at her full name than giving out her nickname, which would've been silly considering the occasion.
A cheer went up from the crowd, but it was not universal – an undercurrent of murmurs whispered beneath the wind, faces falling into confusion as they tried to discern what the Seeker meant by 'another world'.
"It is no accident that she appeared when we needed her most," Cassandra went on, "that she came to bear the mark and wield the power to seal the rifts, a feat of magic that surely would have killed any normal person. The Maker saw fit to summon her from her home and his bride, Our Lady Redeemer, led her by hand through the Fade to our troubled world."
"'Tis true! I saw it with my own eyes!" a soldier cried out.
"Andraste herself, shining in white!" another yelled.
"She is the Prophet's chosen!" a villager added.
A chorus of similar claims began to rise until Cassandra silenced them with a patient hand. "But we must remember that she is still mortal; while the Breach has been made stable, it will take a great amount of power to seal it away once and for all."
"For that, the Inquisition must rely on the strength of numbers," the Commander said. "We have the Herald of Andraste, but we need the support of the people. As it is with any great effort, the more people who work together, the better the results. Will you, Haven, stand with us?"
The resulting cheers were as loud as a population the size of Haven could raise. Hope rang in their voices, spilling forth like rushing waters released by a floodgate, and Ahnnie remembered how a month prior such a response would have not been so forthcoming. Perhaps it was what they needed; after such catastrophic events they would be tired of being frightened and unsure, mourning those who had been lost with a bleak outlook for the future. She had to appreciate how the speech both comforted and empowered them with its compelling rhetoric.
"We thank you all for your support," the Commander acknowledged. "It is a valuable thing to have, in times such as these. Be assured the Inquisition will not hold it lightly. The road ahead of us is not an easy one–"
"Those roads rarely are," someone shouted from below.
The Commander chuckled good-naturedly. "Indeed. But we must do what we can. We promise you, Haven, that we will eradicate this threat; there is no alternative, as it is our only option. We either stand together to take down the Breach, or we let it continue and consume our world. What will you have?"
Ahnnie didn't think she had to guess to know what the people chose.
"You all make me sound like I'm some sort of demigod," she complained to Cassandra once they were within the Chantry walls, the formal announcement already over with.
"Your otherworldly origins are not helping you, in that case," Cassandra countered.
I guess I deserved that, Ahnnie thought as the comment struck home. They had discussed it several days before the announcement was planned and Leliana had suggested some faraway place at the edge of Thedas as a plausible origin, but Ahnnie wouldn't have it. She wanted to tell the truth. It was as much for her as it was for the people – she was tired of telling lies, and didn't the citizens of Haven deserve better than that? Okay, it was actually more for her as she argued against Leliana, dashing reason to the ground in favor of her own outlandish but true story.
She had followed everything the two women told her to do. She trained her butt off, doing her best to memorize the techniques Hargrave and Cassandra taught her, bulling through all the pain. She stood nice and straight upon the Chantry steps while the Commander and Cassandra addressed the townspeople, saying nary a word since she had no oratory skills, but being present anyway because that was what was needed. She figured being able to tell the truth about herself was the least they could let her do – and besides, when she returned home, telling people she went back to another world made more sense than saying she just disappeared.
For that was what she planned to do: find a way home.
She did not yet know how she would do it, but she promised herself that she would. It gave her the drive to wake up every morning and go through her routine. Anyone in her place surely would have worked to return to the world they once knew. If not for herself, then for her dogs, her brother and sister – the things she still cared about.
As if to change the subject, Cassandra asked her, "Does the mark still trouble you?"
"No," she replied. "It glows if I don't cover it, but that's not really anything bad."
The Seeker nodded. "That sounds good."
She still doesn't believe, Ahnnie thought as they walked down the Chantry hall. Indeed, she'd tried telling Cassandra and Leliana about Earth...they didn't deny her outright, but they didn't accept her story with open arms, either. They never said it to her face, but she had a feeling they thought she came from some undiscovered land in Thedas instead.
They entered the room where Cassandra, Leliana, and Roderick had been having their argument the day she first woke up in Haven as a free person. This time, however, the Chancellor was not inside. Leliana, the Commander, and the woman in ruffles were the occupants instead, and the wooden table in the middle was laid over with a large, detailed map.
All three looked up at the Seeker and the Herald. Cassandra shut the door behind them and gestured towards the Commander first. "You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."
Commander Cullen nodded towards Ahnnie in acknowledgment. "It was only for a moment on the field," he commented. "I'm pleased you survived."
Well, I'm pleased you're not upset with me, Ahnnie thought, smiling back politely.
"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat," Cassandra went on, introducing the woman in ruffles.
Lady Josephine's lips curved into a smile, showing the daintiest traces of pearly white teeth. "I've heard much," she remarked, her exotic accent rolling off her tongue in a pleasant way. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."
Ahnnie couldn't help but think of how pretty she looked. Coupled with her smooth voice, it seemed no wonder that she was the one to handle the Inquisition's diplomacy.
"And of course, you know Sister Leliana," Cassandra concluded.
Ahnnie nodded, but it was then she realized that she didn't exactly know what Leliana did. It was never given to her.
Leliana was beginning to explain that. "My position here involves a degree of..."
"She is our spymaster," Cassandra interrupted.
Leliana blinked. "Yes," she sighed, exasperated. "Tactfully put, Cassandra."
Is that how they joke with each other? Ahnnie wondered. It was difficult to tell from the looks on both women's faces. Putting that aside, she turned to the three people across the table – two newly introduced, one reintroduced – and said, "It's nice to meet you all. So, Cassandra said you have a plan..." She looked questioningly over at the Seeker.
"I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good," Cassandra explained.
"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana put in.
Commander Cullen turned to her, his brows furrowing. "And I still disagree," he groused. "The Templars could serve just as well." His voice carried a touch of resentment within it, as if they had had this argument many times before and they still wouldn't consider his idea.
Cassandra sighed. "We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark–"
"Might destroy us all," Cullen interjected. "Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so–"
"Pure speculation," Leliana dismissed.
The Commander turned back towards the red haired spymaster, and when he spoke, it was with the air of an insulted man. "I was a Templar. I know what they're capable of."
Ahnnie pursed her lips, feeling awkward about the argument unfolding around her. Before either of them had the chance to say anything else, she asked, "Well...why not both? Surely they can put their differences aside to help with the Breach? I mean, think about it," she added. "Mages have the magical power, Templars have the demon slaying skills – it'd be absolutely perfect!"
Josephine, who seemed to have stayed a neutral party in the others' disagreement, gave her a pitying smile. "If only it were that easy," she lamented, "but unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet, much less each other. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition – and you, specifically."
Why am I not surprised? "I guess they still think it was all my fault."
"That is not the entirety of it any longer," Josephine corrected her. "You are aware of how some are calling you the 'Herald of Andraste'? That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you."
"Chancellor Roderick's doing, no doubt," Cassandra remarked in disgust.
Ahnnie supposed she couldn't blame them. If someone back on Earth went around touting themselves as, say, the 'Herald of Mary' or 'Herald of Jesus', many churches would find that to be blasphemy, too. A supposed magic mark on the hand would make it all the more heretical. It pained her that that was the only thing she could identify with, though.
"It limits our options," Josephine went on. "Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question."
Ahnnie frowned. "So putting the mages and templars aside...can the Chantry do anything to us? And why are they not worried about the Breach? Like, isn't that an even bigger threat to pretty much everybody?"
Cullen shrugged his great armored shoulders. "I wouldn't worry. The Chantry have only words at their disposal–"
"And yet, they may bury us with them," Josephine pointed out.
"–and while they do know the Breach is a threat, they just don't think we can stop it."
"Might I also add that the Chantry is telling everyone you'll only make it worse?" Josephine put in.
Seeing the exasperation on Ahnnie's face, Leliana swooped in to rescue the mood. "There is something you can do," the spymaster began. "A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."
Ahnnie perked up at this, wondering if she heard Leliana correctly. "A Chantry cleric? Haven't they denounced me, though?"
"I understand she is a reasonable sort," Leliana said. "Perhaps she doesn't agree with her sisters?"
True, Ahnnie nodded. The nuns here had been quite accepting of her as well. If there were any who disliked her, they hid it skillfully. "Okay...I guess I can give it a shot...where is she?"
Ahnnie had expected 'just outside Haven' or 'somewhere in the town'; she didn't expect Leliana to point to the map on the table at a spot that seemed many miles to the southeast of Haven. "You'll find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe," Leliana explained, as if it were merely a matter of running an errand at the local grocery store.
"What...all the way there?" She didn't mean to be rude, but she pointed to where Leliana's finger had been. "How long will that even take?"
"Within the week on horseback, given favorable terrain and conditions," Leliana calculated. "It's not that far."
'Not that far'. Leliana, if it has to take us about a week to get anywhere, then yes, it's far! Of course, she didn't say that. She simply stayed quiet and resigned herself to the fact that this was what people considered 'not that far' in the era of horses and wagons. With a sigh, she looked up to face the others. "Right. When do we leave?" Then she frowned. "That is...I'm not going alone, right?"
"Of course not," Cassandra assured her. "I will accompany you along with Varric and Solas."
That brightened things considerably. Not that she disliked the Seeker, but Varric and Solas seemed less cold towards her. Their very presences would make the rigors of the road much more enjoyable.
"As to when we leave," Cassandra said, breaking through her thoughts, "there are still a few things to arrange, but we should be ready to go within four day's time."
From across the table, Josephine turned to Ahnnie, a worried expression in her eyes. "Oh, I apologize...Lady Yiemen–"
"Just call me Ahnnie," she interrupted.
"Ahnnie," Josephine corrected herself, "I almost forgot to mention..." Her dark eyes flicked nervously towards Cassandra before returning to the black haired girl, and she said, "Lord Robert Trevelyan, second son of Bann Trevelyan, will be making a...visit, to Haven. I had hoped you would have left by then, but..."
"I still have some business to attend to with Leliana," Cassandra said. "There are certain plans we need to put in order regarding the Hinterlands; whatever else we can do there had best be done in one trip."
"Yes, of course," the ambassador nodded.
A feeling of dread began to weigh down on Ahnnie. "Why is he coming here?" she asked weakly.
"Supposedly he is coming with supplies to aid Haven after the disastrous events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes," Josephine began. "Not that supplies are low, but many had made a pilgrimage here for the Conclave, and he simply wants to do what he can as a pious follower of Andraste. His family are known for their religious devotion as well as their connections to the Chantry, after all."
Considering what had just been discussed, that seemed like more trouble headed their way. "But that's not all there is to it," Ahnnie surmised unhappily.
"Yes, well...he may or may not be coming here to inquire into the disappearance of his youngest brother..."
Cassandra's face darkened. "Yet another move on the Chancellor's part."
"Lord Robert didn't state it explicitly, of course, but it is quite the coincidence that he asked to speak with me during his stay," Josephine rushed to explain. To Ahnnie, she assured, "Though the Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, my family has been maintaining friendly relations with the Trevelyans for quite some time. Therefore, I can handle any negotiations. However–"Ahnnie winced"–if, and it is highly unlikely, but if he does ask you anything...you must deny it completely."
"Explain 'deny'," Ahnnie practically squeaked.
"Deny that you saw his brother in the Fade," Josephine instructed. "The matter of the vision at the Breach cannot be helped, but you must do what you can to refute entirely even the smallest glimpse."
"Claim that you were confused," Leliana added, "and only mistook the man in the Fade for Trevelyan in a moment of distress. Otherwise the Chantry will be able to build upon the rumor of you kidnapping or killing him to make your way here. Partly why I wanted you to avoid saying you were from another world in the first place."
She could still hear the disappointment in Leliana's voice, but ignored it.
"The best course of action, though, is to avoid a confrontation altogether," Cullen put in matter-of-factly. "Simply make yourself scarce; he can't approach you if he can't find you. He also won't come close if it meant people would see him speaking with you."
Ahnnie nodded. That probably wouldn't look good for someone with connections to the Chantry, she thought. So basically, I should avoid him or stick to crowded areas.
"If you follow their advice, you should have nothing to worry about when we leave for the Hinterlands," Cassandra said with finality, ending the discussion there. "He will be gone long before we return." She then told Ahnnie to go to Hargrave and make up for the lost time spent at the announcement; Ahnnie readily obeyed, though she still worried about what Josephine had told her.
"Here it is, Lady Ahnnie. Just as you requested."
"Perfect! Thanks, Nala."
"Ooh, can I see, can I see?" Netta begged.
Ahnnie held out the item for her. "It's just the horsehair bundle I asked you to pick for me, remember?"
The little girl held the coarse and frizzy tassel carefully in her hands. "You changed the color," she observed, fingering a lock of the horsehair speculatively.
Ahnnie couldn't help but laugh. "Not me – Nala did. She dyed the horsehair red."
The elven girl blushed. "'Twas nothing, really...but I'm afraid I didn't get it exactly right. It looks too much of a dark rust..."
"Hey, rust is fine," Ahnnie shrugged. "The horsehair was brown to begin with, so I knew it wouldn't turn out completely red. It's just what I need, though. Can I stick it on?"
Nala nodded. "Just be careful not to get any sap on your ladyship's fingers," she quickly warned.
Ahnnie nodded and opened out the strip of gauze to which the horsehair was attached; when she first received her glaive-guisarme, she was immediately beset with an idea that she commissioned the help of Netta and Nala to accomplish. First, she asked Netta to gather as much horsehair as possible; with Flissa's permission, of course. Second, she took the hair and asked Nala if there was any way to dye it red, and also to stick it together onto something for a tassel. The elven girl assured her there were berries she knew of from which she could attain the pigment and set to work on the horsehair, having now finished after three days of dying and gluing.
All three girls sat on a wall outside the tavern, weapons being forbidden to be brandished openly within tavern walls. Ahnnie had the glaive-guisarme standing between her knees, slanted in such a way so that the blade's socket was level with her eyes. She pursed her lips as she observed it for any possible chink to slide the gauze through. She realized it would have been easier if the tassel was attached before the blacksmith finished the weapon, but she hadn't thought of it back then and even if she did, she would have been too timid to make a special request of the blacksmith.
It's screwed tight, she observed. Hopefully, the gauze is thin enough...she bit down on her lower lip as she tried to edge the gauze through. It went in, much to her delight, and she pushed it in deeper; when the gauze went in as far as it could, she made sure it was enclosed around the circumference of the shaft, pressing down on it to make sure the pine sap stuck, before taking a piece of string from her pocket and tying it as tightly as she could around the horsehair closest to the socket. When she finished, she stood up and told the girls to stand back.
With several practiced movements, Ahnnie lowered herself into a fighting stance and jabbed at an invisible enemy, thrusting and slashing the weapon as savagely as she could to test the bonds of the horsehair. When she finished, she straightened up and observed it carefully; it hasn't loosened and the string is still in place. With a smile, she put the glaive-guisarme against the wall and hugged Netta and Nala tightly.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, and then released them.
Netta laughed while Nala grew even redder. "Now your spear is pretty!" Netta exclaimed.
Ahnnie ruffled the little girl's head. "It's not a spear, silly," she teased. "And the horsehair's not just a decoration; elite Chinese warriors put tassels on their polearms so that when they fought, the hair would flare out, confusing the enemy." She figured its addition wouldn't hurt, especially since inexperience was her handicap. She needed to do all she could to balance the odds in her favor; red was also a distracting color and perhaps a nice oriental touch to her weapon, which she had been surprised to find reminiscent in shape to the Chinese guandao.
"Very impressive," an unfamiliar female voice commented. "You don't see many glaives outside of Orlais."
Ahnnie looked up and saw a slim young woman in traveling clothes approaching them, a thoughtful hand cupping her chin as the other hand balanced her elbow. "Uh, thanks," she said, wondering who this woman was – most villagers wouldn't approach her without showing some form of reverence, and they certainly never commented on her weapon. She also seemed different from them somehow; more delicate and cultured. "I don't think I've seen you before," Ahnnie remarked, already starting to guess the dreaded answer.
The young woman smiled. "Eliana. I'm part of Lord Trevelyan's entourage." She tilted her head questioningly. "And you must be..." She gasped, a hand covering her mouth as her eyes widened in excitement. "...the Herald of Andraste! Oh, why didn't I think of it before?"
Ahnnie smiled, trying to ignore the fear at the back of her head. I thought everyone with Lord Trevelyan was roomed in the Chantry? She wouldn't have come outside otherwise. The bann's son had arrived early that morning in a flourish of wagons and people, large enough to make an impressive entourage but small enough to be accommodated in the moderate church building. Then she remembered that it didn't stop them from going to places like the tavern. I'm so stupid.
"You should have known," Netta reprimanded Eliana. "Her skin is gold, and she–"
Ahnnie interrupted the child with a nervous laugh. "That's, um, an exaggeration. I mean, don't...well, uh...I'm just a person," she finished lamely, too nervous to think straight.
Eliana waved it away casually. "Oh no, it's quite all right. I've heard the rumors and I knew some of them were far-fetched. Still, they are right about one thing; you are young." She gave the girls a smile and said, "I didn't mean to disturb your fun. I was just on my way to the tavern. I'll get out of your hair now; it was an honor meeting you, Herald of Andraste."
Ahnnie blinked. "You don't hate me?"
Eliana jolted. "Hate – no! I would not dare!" When she realized what Ahnnie was talking about, she said, "I believe you are truly the Herald of Andraste. My master may not, but that doesn't mean I have no opinions of my own. Don't tell him that, of course."
"I won't," Ahnnie promised. She returned the young woman's friendly smile as she made her way to the Singing Maiden's door. Netta giggled and gave Eliana a wave while Nala timidly stood aside and bowed her head once in deference.
I hope I never have to encounter him in the first place, Ahnnie thought with a shudder. With luck, the next three days would pass by quickly and without incident.
"Now, hook the blade!"
Ahnnie thrust the head of her glaive towards the sword, trapping it between the reverse side and the tapered hook jutting from it, the part that the Orlesians referred to as the 'guisarme'.
"And what do you do next?" Hargrave quizzed.
Ahnnie gave her answer by twisting the glaive-guisarme in a sweeping downward motion, forcing the trapped blade to bend along until it flew out of the opposing soldier's hands. Disarmed, the soldier stepped back, signaling the end of that segment of training.
"Very good," Hargrave praised. "You remembered the answer to each question this time."
"Thank you, sir," Ahnnie thanked stiffly. That was how Hargrave preferred for her to speak to him when she was his student and not the Herald of Andraste. While she mostly put on a blank face, she couldn't help but remember the many times she had gotten the answers to his 'questions' wrong and suffered for it with extra exercises.
"You are dismissed," he then said.
So she was getting off early for once. Brimming with relief, and yet too wary of the Corporal to show it, she barked, "Yes, sir!" and bowed briefly before strapping her weapon onto her back and turning to leave the training grounds. The bow was more of her personal touch, a remnant of her earlier childhood days when she had to cross her arms and bow in formal greeting to older family members. She never meant to do it, but every time she met or left Hargrave, she felt an inner compulsion to dip her torso in addition to yelling out the military acknowledgment.
Wiping the sweat off her forehead, Ahnnie bounded for the Singing Maiden's stables to say hello to Lady, perhaps even play with Netta a bit. She was tired, but not anywhere near as exhausted as she had been that first week of training. She could hardly believe it, but her body was steadily growing accustomed to all this activity. Where she used to be constantly sore, she was now occasionally sore; the exercise was even enjoyable at times.
She rounded the bend that led her down to Haven's second tier; but just as she made the curve, she saw the shape of a man's chest too late to dodge and smacked right into his dark tunic. With a startled yelp, she fell back on the ground, the shaft of her polearm digging painfully into her spine.
Shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...Ahnnie shot up, angling herself to her feet a little awkwardly because of the long polearm behind her, and began stuttering out her apologies to the big man as fast as she could.
For when she laid eyes on his face, she knew that she had just made a big mistake.
Lord Robert Trevelyan glanced down upon the smaller girl, his stoic face denoting little of his thoughts. It did not help that his aquiline features and angular, ice blue eyes made him look even fiercer; kind of like Cassandra, she thought, although his face was less severe at the cheeks. Unlike Ahnnie, he had not been very affected by the sudden bump, so he was able to keep to his feet with perhaps a slight stumble back.
"Hmm," he grunted. The lord pushed a stray blond curl from the corner of his left eye and walked off a moment later, making Ahnnie wonder whether she should be lucky he spared no words for her or humiliated that he considered her too unimportant to bother with. At any rate, he had not asked about his brother, which she supposed was a good thing.
"Here comes the Herald!" Varric greeted her jovially when she entered the Singing Maiden a moment later, just after storing her weapon in a small closet space Flissa permitted her to use whenever she came by. She intended to make for the side door to the stables, but upon seeing Varric cheerfully waving her over, she shrugged and joined him at his table instead. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he grinned as he laid his mug of ale down.
Ahnnie smiled weakly. "More like the lord did..." When he didn't get her joke, she clarified, "I just bumped into Lord Trevelyan. Like, literally."
Varric simply shrugged. "Worse things have happened. Was he upset?"
"I...think? He stared at me for a while, then he said 'Hmm', and then he left."
"Yup," Varric nodded, "he's upset."
Ahnnie gulped. "How do you know?"
"Nobles; the very masters of passive-aggressiveness. I mean, there're different kinds of them," Varric added, "but they all have that talent down to some degree. You'll know once you deal with them more often."
She made a face that denoted she didn't wish to deal with them at all. A serving maid then came by and reverently asked the Herald if she wanted anything to quench her thirst or sate her hunger; she frowned upon hearing her title and waved the maid away almost tersely, displeased with all the trouble this Herald business seemed to be giving her.
"You sure you don't want anything?" Varric asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ahnnie shrugged. "I'm fine, really." There was plenty of water back at her cabin, and she even had a pot she could use to cook up something edible from the rations stored there. Except for that first meal in the tavern, Ahnnie had been able to eat at the Chantry and later, on her own when she discovered the pot, though she had mostly relied on the Chantry since training started because of the little time she had. She supposed dining with the nuns was not an option anymore, now that Lord Trevelyan was staying there.
The serving maid left and she fell into small talk with Varric. It was comforting, at least, and she was able to get in a laugh or two. Then her ears were suddenly assaulted by a cringeworthy, high-pitched squeal that made her almost fall back on her own chair.
"Is it really...Are you the Varric Tethras? Author of Hard in Hightown?"
Ahnnie blinked, suddenly realizing that the squeal earlier was that of a Thedosian fangirl. I guess they're the same on Earth and here, she jokingly thought. When she turned around, her surprise took a double hit to find that this fangirl was none other than Eliana.
"The very same," Varric answered with a flourish.
"I knew it!" Eliana exclaimed. When she realized half the tavern was staring at her, she cleared her throat and said, less loudly, "I mean, it's an honor to meet you. I'm E– " her voice caught. "Eliana," she corrected with a clearance of her throat. "Really, I–"
The dwarf gestured for her to sit, and the young woman happily complied.
"First, I meet the Herald of Andraste," Eliana began, her voice brimming with excitement, "and now I meet my all-time favorite author! I am just stunned right now, I...!" She trailed off, breathless, before continuing in a smaller voice, as if she couldn't contain herself, "This has been the best trip. Ever."
Varric chuckled and Ahnnie smiled, a little grateful for once that someone else elicited the more extreme reaction. But this newest revelation made her turn to the dwarf curiously. "You never told me you wrote a book," she began.
Eliana stared at her in shock. "You mean to say you've never read any of his works?"
"Then, you've written more than one?" Ahnnie asked Varric.
Varric put up two hands defensively. "It's not like I was hiding it from you. You just never asked."
Well, now I'm curious! "What kind of books do you write?"
Taking a swig from his mug, the dwarf answered, "I've tried my hand at a few genres. My crime serials are my most popular. Hard in Hightown, as this young lady mentioned." He gestured with his head towards Eliana. "Guards breaking the rules to get things done. The Tale of the Champion is the most famous thing I've ever written," he remarked, "or infamous, maybe. I started a romance serial once, Swords and Shields...but let's be honest, I don't have a knack for romances. Most of my stories end in tragedy." Varric shrugged. "Probably that says something unfortunate about me personally."
"Naw, you're the most cheerful person I know," Ahnnie assured him, but when he smiled in return, there seemed to be more than she knew going on behind his eyes; she quickly wondered whether she had said the wrong thing or hit a sensitive spot, but since he didn't say anything, she decided against openly apologizing.
"You have not lived until you've read one of his books," Eliana said to Ahnnie, snapping her out of those thoughts. "In fact, I brought Hard in Hightown along with me – it's so good, I'm reading it for...the hundredth time, really," she admitted. "How about I let you borrow it?"
Ahnnie stared at her, wide-eyed. "You would...let me borrow it?"
Eliana shrugged. "Why not? I doubt this place sells it." She gestured vaguely at the tavern, although Ahnnie understood she meant to say the town of Haven, specifically. "I didn't see a bookstore, not that anyone here besides the Chantry sisters knows how to read...no offense."
"I'll be leaving soon, though," Ahnnie said, "and you aren't staying long, either. I couldn't possibly impose on you."
Eliana tilted her head inquisitively. "You're going somewhere?"
"In two days, I have to leave for the Hinterlands."
The young woman nodded slowly, her face thoughtful. "I see..." A moment later, she looked back up at Ahnnie and said, "It won't be too much trouble. You can give it back to me before you go; a little bit of reading is better than no reading at all. It's that good of a book. Hopefully, you can pick up a copy later."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely! Of course, I'd like to get it signed by the author first." Eliana turned to Varric hopefully.
The dwarf smiled. "Anything for a fan."
Mana is not a thing to be taken lightly. Many mages have made the mistake of becoming overconfident, rushing themselves into powerful spells believing that they can handle the magic...true mastery lies in patience and understanding, as much as it does in ambition.
Solas' words rang in Ahnnie's mind as she sat on the steps outside her cabin, half-lidded eyes cast on the stone beneath her feet and her body held in a relaxed posture as she focused on the breathing exercise that he taught her.
Funny how he used the words 'true mastery' when, as he said specifically, he did not intend to teach her fully and she might not be able to practice magic fully anyways. However, she caught the gist of his words, and could see the rationale behind starting slowly. Was this how he learned to use his magic? she wondered as she inhaled and exhaled in a slow, deliberate pattern.
At first, she had been unable to feel anything; it was just a boring and empty practice, kind of like meditating; but unlike meditating, her mind was allowed a measure of awareness, and after the first few times she was able to streamline her thinking along with the inner calm that she would feel perhaps five minutes into the breathing. Eventually, she began to feel a tiny spark...a little pinprick of tingling energy hidden deep inside her...and every time she did so, her mark would glow a little more brightly.
When she asked if it was mana, Solas nodded and pointed out that, with the mark connecting her to the Fade, she was able to tap into a little well of it, just as he'd surmised. As for the power that allowed her to seal the rifts, perhaps that was something exclusive when it came to tears in the Veil. He soon had her doing the breathing exercises again, only this time he encouraged her to try to move the mana to different parts of her body, her hands specifically.
Ahnnie's eyes went wide and she jumped back when the mark suddenly sizzled and brightened. Almost at once, her mana concentration broke and the magic fled back into her center. She looked warily at her palm, glad to see the mark quickly returning to normal, yet still very shaken.
I could barely get any in my right hand, she thought, reflecting on what had just happened, and I was never able to move it that far before...it's almost like...like my left hand just sucked it all up for itself.
"That's enough magic practice for now," she murmured to herself as she tried to rid her ears of the electric sound. "Solas would understand."
Her hand reached behind her for a hard, leatherbound book with a picture of a muscular man under a full moon painted or printed on the cover; she wasn't too sure of Thedas' printing technology to tell.
"Who's Solas?" a cheerful voice asked from behind her, causing her to almost drop the book in shock.
"Eliana!" Ahnnie exclaimed with a laugh when she turned around. "Gosh, you scared me."
The young woman sat down beside her, brushing a strand of brunette hair back under her cap. "Sorry," she apologized. "I just saw you sitting here with Hard in Hightown and wondered how you liked it."
Was she walking around here? Ahnnie wondered. She thought she would avoid any encounters with Lord Trevelyan by sticking close to her cabin, as he most likely wouldn't know where it was located. There was only a day left before she would depart for the Hinterlands and she didn't want to risk spoiling her luck. Of course, she wasn't purposefully avoiding Eliana, so it was a pleasant surprise that the young woman found her way here. "Solas is a mage who's helping us," Ahnnie explained. "And yeah, I really like it! I'm excited to find out who killed Magistrate Dunwald – his wife seems kind of sketchy."
"Varric's writing is so vivid. You just feel yourself being pulled into the story, like it's actually happening, don't you?"
Ahnnie nodded.
Eliana sighed contentedly. "And now I have it signed, in his own hand! My friends will be so jealous."
Indeed, scrawled onto the first page of the book were the runic letters that made up Verric Tethras' name, written boldly yet eloquently in crisp black ink.
"Do you miss Ostwick?" Ahnnie then asked.
"Not really," Eliana confessed. "I'm just going on a short trip with Lord Trevelyan and will be back soon, so it's not like I'm homesick."
"Oh." Well, that was a stupid question..."So, what do you do for him?"
She shrugged. "Not much. I guess you could say I'm part of his guard, though here I'm just helping out with distributing the supplies, fetching this or that...kind of boring, really. Of course, not when I'm in the Herald of Andraste's or Varric Tethras' company," she added with a knowing smile. When Ahnnie blushed, Eliana asked her, "So what do you do, as the Herald?"
"Me? Well, I..." She rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Training. I go through extensive training early in the day with Corporal Hargrave and Lady Cassandra so that I know how to fight. Every other day, I also have horseback riding, which I just finished two hours ago," she chuckled while rubbing her sore lower back. "And some time ago, I had literacy studies with Sister Magdalene because I couldn't read the words here...but it's done now, so those are just the three things I'm occupied with." Ahnnie shrugged. "Kind of boring, really."
"Is that all?" Eliana asked, as if she couldn't quite believe that was the extent of it.
"Yup," Ahnnie nodded. She wasn't sure if she should let out that she was also practicing some magic, however small, so she pointedly said nothing of it.
"Huh. Who would've thought." Eliana shook her head. "Sorry, it's just – the rumors they have of you back home. Supposedly, you fight demons every day, performing heroic acts left and right, or you're plotting to raze the Chantry down to the ground, mercilessly slaughtering innocent Chantry sisters and brothers."
"Um..."
"Like I said, I knew some of them were far-fetched," Eliana smiled. "It's good to be able to see the truth for myself. And to be honest with you...it's not bad. Not exciting, not horrifying, just regular, like anyone else – and I kind of like it that way."
Ahnnie slowly smiled back. "Yeah. Me too."
An immediate matter has rendered me unavailable for sword practice today. Meet with Lady Josephine instead, as she is to begin teaching you some basics in diplomacy. She can be found in her office at the Chantry.
-Cassandra
Ahnnie finished reading the note, slowly mouthing the words along, and lowered it with a stunned look on her face. "Is this true?" she asked Nala in a quiet tone, so that Corporal Hargrave, having just dismissed her and standing nearby, would not hear the fear in her voice.
"I would not lie to your ladyship," Nala whispered back. "The Lady Seeker pressed it into my hand as I was making my way across the square and bade me find you after your practice..." She fidgeted. "If you'll please excuse me, I must get back to Master Adan at once."
Ahnnie nodded. "Right. Sorry."
"Oh no, 'twas nothing, Lady Ahnnie!" Nala assured her in that trademark skittish manner of hers before giving her a "By your leave" and rushing off in another direction.
Once alone, Ahnnie sighed. It was not the idea of diplomacy lessons with Josephine that she feared, but the thought of going into the Chantry where Trevelyan and the rest of his entourage were...Would I bump into him? What if he sees me? Oh...didn't Cassandra know any of this?
Yet she knew it wasn't Cassandra's fault. They were all well aware, though it was possible that with the date of departure coming tomorrow, they were assured that nothing untoward might happen; that, and she had been thoroughly instructed in what to say. It would mean they put a certain amount of trust in her and the thought made her balk. I mean, I know what to say, but...will stuttering make it worse?
She couldn't stop all these thoughts from racing in her head as she went back to her cabin to deposit her glaive-guisarme there before making her way to the Chantry. Once inside, she asked a Chantry sister, one whom she knew to be friendly with her from the times she'd taken her meals there, for the location of Lady Josephine's office. The nun led her to a door leading into a neat little room lit with cheerful torchlight.
"Ah, there you are, Lady Ahnnie!" Josephine greeted her. "Please, have a seat. Now, I know this has come on short notice, but let us see what we can learn..."
An hour later, her head swimming with all the do's and don'ts of speaking with nobles, she exited Josephine's office feeling more than a little overwhelmed. How does she even keep track of all those rules? Ahnnie thought, her hand behind her in the act of closing the office door. And she looks like she even enjoys it–
A sudden shadow looming over her filled her with an ominous dread. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and looked up ever so slowly at the figure blocking the light, hoping with all her heart it was just one of the guards...
The cold blue eyes of Lord Robert Trevelyan looked down upon her, making her want to gulp but she didn't, for fear of portraying an unease that might be misinterpreted; especially after learning all those things from Josephine. And if what the ambassador told her was true, then she couldn't just stand there gawking silently at the lord either.
After a few silent seconds, Ahnnie cleared her throat. "Lord Trevelyan," she began with a nod in his direction.
The corner of his lip twitched ever-so-lightly in what was either amusement or contempt. "Yemen," he said a moment later, and she was wondering why he said that until she remembered he was saying her name and not the Arabic country of Yemen. That mispronunciation of her name still took some getting used to.
She smiled politely and bowed her head again. "By your leave," she said as pleasantly as possible, parroting Nala. "My lord," she added, and ducked past the big man.
"No insistence upon using your formal title?" he suddenly asked, freezing her again. The tone he used was like that of a teacher reprimanding a truant student, and it worked. "How humble, for a blasphemer."
According to Josephine, Lord Trevelyan had not just openly insulted her, but he was showing – at least, with no one else around – that he thought little of her reputation and was not afraid to wound her with the realization. Unfortunately, Josephine had not taught her any useful quips in these situations; she just demonstrated them.
"I have never been prideful to begin with," Ahnnie drawled out carefully to keep from stuttering. "People just started calling me that after I..." She cleared her throat. "...sealed the first rift at the Breach."
"Really, now," he said coolly, and Ahnnie mentally facepalmed when she realized what she'd done.
You stupid idiot! You mentioned the damn Breach – now he'll have no choice but to mention his brother!
Her heart hammered in her chest and she almost forgot to breathe. With a quick inhalation, she turned back towards the lord and smiled as cordially as she could. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer," she apologized just as slowly as she'd spoken. "I wish you a good day, my lord."
"Yes, of course," he said in the politest alternative to a sneer. "I trust you have many things to do. You are a busy person, after all."
She knew she should not listen to his barbed words, but somehow they hurt, like an uncomfortable pin sticking from a chair she happened to be sitting on. Nonsense, she thought as she walked. I should be relieved. He's not dragging it on...
"E–" Lord Trevelyan suddenly said, and Ahnnie froze yet again. Almost instinctively, she turned back around, although every voice in her mind was screaming against the decision.
Oh, it's just Eliana, Ahnnie thought upon seeing the young woman's lithe figure appear in the hall. Maybe he was going to order her to do something? But why was he cut off? She turned back around and went on her way. Perhaps she just knew what he wanted her to do before he said it...Josephine did say nobles often acted like they expected people to read their minds...
She was halfway to her cabin, replaying the icy encounter in her mind on repeat, when a hand took hold of her shoulder. Ahnnie gasped and even let out a little scream, for she suddenly envisioned Lord Robert Trevelyan at her back, preparing to either interrogate her on his brother's whereabouts or to kill her on the spot with his sword.
It was just Eliana.
"I'm sorry," the brunette apologized. "Are you all right?"
Ahnnie stared at her, wide-mouthed, before letting out an anxious laugh. "N-no, I'm sorry...I thought you were...someone else."
"Lord Robert Trevelyan, by any chance?"
Ahnnie nodded. "Yeah..."
"I thought you'd had an encounter back there," Eliana said. "When I came in and I saw the both of you...I know my lord when he's being smug. I've seen that face."
Ahnnie shook her head. "It's okay, I was just...I'm just not used to dealing with nobles yet. I guess I handled it pretty well if he didn't get too upset...not that I'd know..." She looked back at the young woman questioningly. "I'm not holding you up from something, am I? I think Lord Trevelyan needed you..."
"Oh, it's already been done," Eliana said, waving the matter away. "Are you busy with anything?"
"No, I'm just heading for my cabin to take a break."
Eliana seemed to brighten at this. "You have a cabin here? Is it too much to ask to take a peek?"
Ahnnie chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, it's not anything really...just a one-room structure. Probably even smaller than where you live in Ostwick."
"Still, I'd like to see where the Herald of Andraste lives!" She looked around, as if to make sure no one was looking. "None of my colleagues are around, and the townspeople are scarce."
"Okay..." What was the harm? Eliana had been nothing but friendly towards her. Perhaps this sudden interest was meant to make her feel better, and she had to admit that it was working. Makes me remember when I still had school friends to bring over, Ahnnie thought wistfully. Eliana did not seem that much older than her anyway...twenty-five at most.
They both walked the remaining way down the path to Ahnnie's cabin, conversing animatedly about the latest developments Ahnnie read of in Hard in Hightown or their favorite characters. Ahnnie personally thought she could relate to Jevlan, the clumsy green recruit who'd just joined the guard force; Eliana confessed a certain interest in the intriguing character of Lady Marielle, the dead Magistrate Dunwald's pretty wife.
As for Donnen Brennokovic, neither could deny that he was a universal favorite character, and not just because he was the main one – his gritty determination and hard wit made him every bit the salty guardsman whose unscrupulous methods promised to save the day where abiding by the rules wouldn't. Whenever Ahnnie read his dialogue, she imagined him speaking in Varric's smoky voice.
"Well, here we are," Ahnnie said as they approached her cabin door. She unlocked it and pushed it open. "Don't get your hopes too high, though."
Both young women stepped in, Ahnnie taking off her shoes out of habit while Eliana gazed fascinated around the tiny one-room space, as if it held a chamberful of treasure.
"Please, just make yourself at home," she told Eliana as she made sure the door was shut; it wouldn't do for the chill wind to blow it open later. "Are you thirsty? I can make some tea...don't know if you'll like it though..." She walked past the young woman towards a corner in the room where the kettle lay and rummaged through a sack for some tea leaves. Then, just as she rose to go get water from a barrel, Eliana gave her a hard blue stare.
"Now that we're alone, tell me: what have you done with Maxwell?"
Which brought them back to the present. Ahnnie was no Sherlock, but she was able to deduce somewhat that Maxwell was the youngest Trevelyan's name. Why would Eliana ask about him otherwise, and in such a condescending tone?
She lowered the kettle onto the flat top of a sack. As she processed all the events of the previous few days, she thought with dry amusement about how she'd done all she could to avoid Lord Trevelyan's questioning and yet still managed to end up under scrutiny by one of his household.
"Maxwell was his name, wasn't it?" she asked Eliana quietly.
"Is," the brunette insisted harshly. "He's not dead. Not unless you killed him."
Ahnnie cursed herself for that mishap; though Maxwell Trevelyan was most likely dead, it was impolite to speak of him that way to someone with connections to him. Josephine would not be pleased. "I'm sorry, Eliana, I didn't mean–"
"Evelyn," Eliana cut her off. "Evelyn Trevelyan, only daughter of Bann Trevelyan."
Ahnnie's eyes widened. "What...?"
"You wouldn't have been so open with me otherwise." Evelyn smiled coldly. "Did you think this 'secret' of yours wouldn't come to light? When Chancellor Roderick wrote to Father, he was absolutely livid." She crossed her arms, the harsh blue of her eyes reminding Ahnnie of Robert's ice cold orbs. "You are not a demon, as the Chancellor says, but that doesn't mean you're not hiding anything. I'm a spirit medium; I should know."
A mage! Even worse! Ahnnie hadn't heard Solas mention spirit mediums, but she was sure if Eliana – or Evelyn – specialized in something with spirits in it, she was most likely a mage by Thedosian standards. Can she tell if I'm hiding something? Ahnnie wondered. Or was that in relation to my not being a demon?
"Well, Herald of Andraste?" she asked, and this time, there was a sarcastic emphasis on the title. "What have you got to say for yourself?" A few moments later, Evelyn's bravado disappeared as an incensing thought made her hands clench. "I swear, if you killed him..."
"I didn't kill anybody," Ahnnie hurriedly said. "In fact, I didn't even see–"
Yes, she had been about to follow up Josephine and Leliana on their advice. No, she could not go through with it. The situation scared her, and she was loathe to think of what Evelyn's wrath could bring down upon her even with no staff by her side (for Solas had said it was possible for mages to manipulate mana without a staff), but suddenly she thought of how Evelyn was doing this because she cared for Maxwell – how Lord Robert was here in the first place, because the Trevelyan family was concerned. They were nobles and cared about their names, but at the core of it, they must have really loved Maxwell...or at least, Evelyn did.
In that case, could she really bring herself to lie to Evelyn? To trample on a grieving family's emotions to save her own skin?
"What? What didn't you see?" Evelyn prompted her when no answer was forthcoming.
Ahnnie opened and closed her mouth, her conscience still waging a tennis match between the two options: deny, or accept. Deny, or accept. In the end, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Okay!" she blurted out rather forcefully. "Sorry, that was more for me than at you." Opening her eyes again, she looked up at Evelyn. "What I meant to say was...I didn't do anything to your brother. But I did see him in the Fade."
With a deep breath, she continued: "All I know is, after I got swept into the Fade myself, I bumped into him briefly and had to run from giant spiders. Demons, I think. Then a shining woman pulled me out, and here we are." She made a gesture of finality with her hand. Then she sighed. "I know that's probably not the answer you want. It's the only one I can give, though. I won't say I know what you're going through, but I understand it must be hard...and it's especially difficult, because you weren't there to see what happened to confirm it, so of course you suspect I did something...
"But that's all I have to say in my defense, because I honestly don't know more. I didn't think it would be fair to say otherwise; you deserve the truth." She gave a faint smile. "I would want the same, if it were my own younger siblings..."
Evelyn blinked, obviously not expecting that. Still, she didn't seem entirely convinced. "This is quite a new tactic..."
"Think of it what you want," Ahnnie dismissed with a wave. "I'm done worrying my head off. Do you know how tense I've been these past few days? And then Josephine's teaching me how to speak in metaphors and half-truths to establish goodwill with visiting dignitaries–" Those were words quoted directly from the ambassador herself. "Honestly? I suck at all that, and I feel much better now that I've told you the truth." I guess this is what they mean by 'the truth will set you free'. It's probably going to get me in a boatload of trouble, though.
Well, so be it. It had come to this, and it would stay that way.
Evelyn was quiet for a while. Her eyes, though still quite furious, lost their edge and focused elsewhere as she ran the girl's words through her mind. Ahnnie fidgeted, unsure of what to do, before turning back to the kettle and going back to the water barrel to fill it as she had previously intended. Even if Evelyn wouldn't have any tea, Ahnnie could use a nice, steaming cupful.
"He was the only one who cared to remember that I existed in the Ostwick Circle," Evelyn suddenly said.
Ahnnie looked up, having just finished filling the kettle with water.
"Little baby brother, always asking for big sister Evie, whether I was at the Circle or visiting home...I guess it's because I played with him, when Robert and Philip wouldn't be bothered with a noisy little child..."
Ahnnie pursed her lips, wondering whether she should say something, and then went to hang the kettle on the hook over the fire.
"Do you know what he said to me, when he was five? 'One day I'll become a Templar, Evie, and join you at the Circle so you won't have to be so alone.' The little fool; he actually thought I was cooped up alone in a tower, just because family didn't visit often...and when he turned eighteen, he actually did it. Like a true Templar, he kept to his word..."
Ahnnie only nodded, for what else could she say? She was surprised, however, when she heard a little sniffing. "Evelyn?" she asked softly.
The brunette wiped at her eyes. "It's nothing," she quickly dismissed. "I was getting sentimental. Damn, I didn't imagine it going this way...you were supposed to be quailing in your boots...or socks," she corrected when she noticed Ahnnie's bootless feet. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle another onslaught of emotion, but failed when she squeaked, "Oh Maker, why wasn't it me at the Conclave instead?" and covered her face.
Ahnnie's heart clenched when she saw the mage's shoulders shake in sorrow. She slowly came forward, wondering if Evelyn was still cross with her, before reaching slowly around the young woman, loosely embracing her. "It's okay," she murmured as she pat Evelyn's back. "Everything will be all right." She considered saying he might even be safe in her world right now, but doubted it was appropriate for someone who suspected her a moment ago. "So, did you get the idea for your code name from Sister Leliana's?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
Evelyn choked out a strangled laugh. "How did you know?"
"I just realized it...Leliana without the 'ulluh' sound."
"I couldn't help it," Evelyn sniffed. "I thought it was pretty."
"Indeed, it is," Ahnnie agreed.
The Trevelyan pulled out of her hug a moment later, her sobs reduced to occasional sniffles. "Thank you...I suppose I needed to do that...I'd been keeping it all bottled up, ever since..." She shook her head. With a deep sigh, she recomposed herself and looked into Ahnnie's eyes. "Maker's breath. This was really unexpected...you are...truly, something else. I'll tell my brother you're not a demon, for starters."
Ahnnie frowned confusedly.
"Ah, he asked me to get close to you to sense if you were a demon," Evelyn explained. "This quest for truth was my own idea...he wouldn't have approved, but I just couldn't contain myself."
"So you believe me?"
Evelyn studied her a moment, before answering, "You know, I don't know what to think, exactly...but you were so blunt, and from what I've seen of you these past few days..." She gave the girl a weak smile. "I suppose I do?"
Ahnnie felt relief flood through her body.
"And to be fair, I won't tell him that you saw Max in the Fade...he would not take the news very lightly. I think you were advised against admitting it, weren't you?" When Ahnnie nodded, she went on, "I can't have my family making a big fuss for the Inquisition, not when I intend to join it."
Upon hearing that, Ahnnie's jaw dropped wide open. "You what?" she blurted out.
Evelyn chuckled. "I know. Crazy. But I think...I think this is what I have to do, if I want to find out what happened to Max. I had a hunch he still lived, as his spirit couldn't be sensed...then again, it's not always one meets the spirits of the deceased in the Fade." She smiled sheepishly at Ahnnie. "You know when I found you sitting outside your cabin yesterday? I felt the thrum of magic and followed it to you. So perhaps...you could help me?"
"I think you'll have to talk to Solas about that," Ahnnie suggested to her. "He's the expert on the Fade."
"Perfect! Well, I'll have to go now...can't keep my brother waiting. I won't be able to join the Inquisition right away without causing a stir, but I'll enlist when I can."
"We'll be glad to have you," Ahnnie assured the mage, and she felt ecstatic that things seemed to work out even better than she expected...but I don't think Josephine's going to be very happy when I tell her what I just did.
A/N: Map calculations based on the handy-dandy interactive map of Thedas by bendingwind at 60km/day & based on the fact that Thedas should be slightly larger than the dev's statement (i.e, that Ferelden is roughly the size of England).