A cold mountain breeze whipped up the snow, stimulating flurries that danced about the horses' hooves. The beasts nickered softly in the watery afternoon light, and their tails swished good-naturedly as they ambled along the sloping trail. They were five in number and their riders rode them close together; the winds were blowing something fierce and they didn't wish to get lost in a blizzard, should one happen.

Luckily for them, their journey's end was right around the corner. After turning the bend they came to a frozen lake, lying placidly across from the frontier village of Haven. Another left turn some hundred yards down and the gates of Haven would be ready to receive them.

"Finally, we're home," Ahnnie breathed as the gate posts loomed into view. A puff of vapor escaped from her mouth with her breathy exhalation, clouding the air before her briefly.

"Interesting that you should call it home," Solas remarked. A snug winter cap covered his hairless head – such was the cold that not even he could withstand leaving it bare. "You've only stayed for two months."

"Well, what else can I call it? It's the first place I ever knew here."

"What's it that they say?" Blackwall pondered, his dark beard flecked with snow. "'Home is where the heart is'."

"Change that to 'ale', and I'll be a happy man," Varric joked.

Ahnnie laughed. "Oh, come on, Varric – surely it's more than that. A place might have ale, but what if it's the most rundown shack in the world? With rats, and mold? Would you still stay?"

"I could say the same of a place full of 'heart'."

"Well...fine, can't argue with that." She took a deep sniff and rubbed some warmth into her frigid nose. "How about you, Solas, Cassandra? What defines home for you?"

"Oh, those two?" Varric shook his head. "Don't bother with them. Their hearts are made of ice."

"We can hear you, Varric," Cassandra reminded him.

The conversation ceased when the village gate was finally within reach. The guards swung it open as soon as they recognized the Seeker, elf, dwarf, and human girl – Blackwall was news to them, but then again, they'd been having some new faces pop up in Haven recently. New recruits for the Inquisition gathered from the Hinterlands, a Chantry nun by the name of Mother Giselle, and Horsemaster Dennet, to name a few.

The group were free to dismount as soon as they were within the village walls. Soldiers stood at the ready to take care of their horses and they gratefully took the chance to stretch their legs.

"Lady Seeker, Lady Herald," a soldier saluted Cassandra and Ahnnie smartly. "You're just in time."

"Yes?" Ahnnie asked, wondering what the occasion was. Come to think of it, she could hear the sound of a raucous crowd gathered in the upper tier.

The soldier faltered beneath Cassandra's glare. "There's a...conflict, in front of the Chantry, between some of our men and the...mages. Also, Chancellor Roderick has returned."

"Maker's breath," Cassandra cursed, and stormed up the path. Ahnnie trotted after the Seeker, a knot of anxious anticipation already forming in her stomach.

When they reached the Chantry entrance, they found the majority of Haven's population split into two sides: mage vs. templar, with a good number of the anti-mage civilians backed behind the templars.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" a templar barked, his voice hoarse against the howling wind. Voices of assent sounded from behind him, templar and civilian alike.

"Lies," a balding mage protested, and jabbed an accusatory finger at the templar. "Your kind let her die!"

The incensed templar grabbed the hilt of his sword. "Shut your mouth, mage!" He was halfway in withdrawing the weapon when Commander Cullen burst from the Chantry doors.

"Enough!" Cullen shouted, pushing aside the two dissidents with rough shoves.

The templar stumbled back, and his face turned ashen when he saw who it was. "Knight-Commander," he gasped.

"That is not my title," Cullen growled, his voice seething with rage. "We are not Templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition." He placed a special emphasis on 'all', glowering pointedly at both sides.

"And what does that mean, exactly?" a familiar pompous voice asked. The mousy face of Chancellor Roderick soon became visible as the crowd parted to let him through.

Ahnnie and Cassandra turned in his direction. "Back already, Chancellor?" Cassandra asked, her voice devoid of all warmth. "Haven't you done enough?"

Wrinkling his nose, the Chancellor shot back, "I'm curious, Seeker, as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' will restore order as you've promised." He cast a disgusted glance at the angry crowd around him, seeing wherever he turned the very chaos the Inquisition promised would not happen.

"Of course you are," Cullen muttered under his breath, and then clapped loudly for everyone's attention. "Right. Back to your duties! All of you!"

At the authoritative bite in the Commander's voice, the people dispersed and were cleared from the Chantry doorstep within a few minutes. Ahnnie watched them go, noting their disgruntled faces with a sinking heart. We can't afford any infighting. Not at this time...

The Commander shook his head as he addressed the girl. "Mages and templars were already at war; now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

Ahnnie sighed. "Everyone's always looking for someone to blame."

"Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order," put in Chancellor Roderick contemptuously.

"Who, you?" Cullen asked. "Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"

Ahnnie stiffened. "Commander Cullen," she protested; she was aware she didn't have the force to chide him, but she knew matters could only get worse if they devolved into all-out name calling.

And yet, it had started anyway. "The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste'?" the Chancellor countered. "I think not."

"You put too much stock in your own failed ways without considering that the Inquisition is a new effort," Cassandra pointed out. "One small conflict, and you are ready to shoot it down as dysfunctional."

Oh Cassandra, not you too! With an aggravated tsk, Ahnnie turned to face Roderick and make her own appeal. "Chancellor, we mean no disrespect. But you must give us a chance. The Inquisition's...the Inquisition's like a young family that just started. Sure, there may be some initial conflict, but as soon as things fall into place then everything goes more smoothly."

But the Chancellor looked at her as though she'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "How many families are on the verge of splitting into open warfare with themselves?" he asked her incredulously.

Ahnnie clamped her mouth shut and swallowed. I can tell you of one, she wanted to say, but questioned the wisdom of it.

"Yes, because that would never happen to the Chantry," Cullen drawled sarcastically, saving her the effort.

"Centuries of tradition will guide us," the Chancellor declared. "We are not the upstart, eager to turn over every apple cart."

"And we are not old fools, too stubborn to see the problem before us," Cassandra retorted.

The Chancellor drew in a sharp breath, and it was clear he was readying a sharp rejoinder to this latest insult. As he was doing so, Cullen looked over to Ahnnie with an exasperated light in his eyes. "I will keep the peace while you and the others appeal to the Chantry in Val Royeaux," he promised her. "Though I should warn you that the Chancellor's a good indicator of what to expect there."

Ahnnie sighed again. She had already resigned herself to that fact, and tried not to think about it much. "Thanks," she said, smiling up at the Commander nonetheless. She had to appreciate his sincerity.

Meanwhile, the Chancellor chose to unload his frustration on her instead. "Better ready yourself for the blame that you will be rightly assigned," he spat, and then turned away to seek refuge from the wind and snow in the Chantry.

"Maker's breath," Cassandra muttered once he was gone. "Always has to have the last word, doesn't he?"

Ahnnie shrugged. "Perhaps he just thinks he's doing the right thing. You can't blame him for..." Catching movement from the corner of her eye, she looked up and noticed Blackwall standing off to the side, having witnessed most of what transpired. "Oh." She rubbed her arm awkwardly. "Um, sorry you had to see that. That's not what we're usually like. Honest."

Blackwall shrugged. "No organization's without its fair share of detractors. Happens all the time."

Remembering their newest member, Cassandra gestured him forward. "Come; let us get you settled within the Chantry. Sister Leliana would also like to speak with you."

Blackwall nodded stoically and followed the Seeker towards the sunburst emblazoned doors. Ahnnie fidgeted where she stood, itching to say something – she didn't want the Warden's first impression of the Inquisition to be a dour one. Before he could disappear behind the Chantry doors, she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey, when you're done, come join us over at the Singing Maiden!" she called after him, hoping her voice carried through the wind.

Before he disappeared into the Chantry halls, the Warden looked back over his shoulder and gave her a hearty nod.

"Your Ladyship!" Nala gushed, and rushed forward to embrace her.

"Oof!" Ahnnie exclaimed, but returned the hug in earnest. "Hi, Nala. It's good to see you too," she smiled.

"Oh, Lady Ahnnie, your things are just as you left them," Nala jabbered on after she pulled away. "Your room has been cleaned, the sheets changed, hearth swept, oh, and rations restocked; everything has been in perfect order."

"Thank you, that's good to hear." But the state of her living quarters mattered little to her right now. "So, uh, Nala...why're you here at the tavern by yourself? Not that that's a problem, but you usually never come by."

The elven girl blushed. "Please don't misunderstand, Lady Ahnnie...it's...ah, perhaps you should come see it for yourself."

Ahnnie cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Please, come this way..." Her nervous hands gestured for Ahnnie to follow and they went up to the side door of the tavern. After they exited, Nala shut the door behind them and headed for the stables, steering towards a familiar stall that Ahnnie knew all too well.

Netta was inside, and when she heard the older girls approach, she turned around to face them. "You're back!" she beamed when she saw Ahnnie, and ran up to hug her legs.

"Hey, Netta," Ahnnie greeted back, patting the little girl on the shoulder. She knelt down to be level with the child's face. "Wow, you've gotten taller," she remarked with a hand atop the child's head.

Netta grinned. "Mama says I've grown an inch," she boasted. "Did you say hello to Lady yet? Come say hello to Lady!"

Ahnnie laughed. "I will, I will..." But when Netta moved away to reveal the dog they all knew and loved, Ahnnie's eyes widened. Her hand reached forward tentatively, and Lady was quick to assault it with licks, but she did not seem to register this as she stared at the dog's swollen belly. At last her fingers connected with the stomach, and she let out a gasp of wonder when she felt a flutter of movement.

"Lady's having puppies!" Netta giggled.

Ahnnie was barely aware of the stupid grin that had spread on her face. She looked up at Nala, who beamed back at her with just as much joy. "When did you notice this?" she asked the elf.

"I think she told Flissa three weeks ago," Nala speculated.

"And a bitch starts showing after the end of the first month," Ahnnie mumbled, remembering what she knew of canine pregnancies. "Oh my god. Lady could whelp at any moment!"

"Ah, so you know about that too, your ladyship?"

"Yes, my dog gave birth once before."

"How many puppies will she have?" Netta squealed excitedly.

Nala placed a restraining hand on the little girl's shoulder to keep her from jumping. "Like I've told you many times, Netta, it looks about three or four."

"How many puppies did your dog have?" Netta turned to Ahnnie.

Ahnnie smiled. "Nine," she answered with a measure of pride.

"Wow, that's a lot!"

"And far too many for us to handle," Flissa interjected behind them. Ahnnie looked up to see the innkeeper's face looming above them at the stall door, shadowed by the gloom. Only the cold grey light reflected off the snow and a dim, fluttering lantern provided any illumination. "Welcome back, Herald of Andraste. I hope Netta hasn't been too much of a nuisance again."

"No, she's never a nuisance," Ahnnie objected, and stood up to properly greet the woman. "How's it been, Flissa? Business going good for you?"

Flissa smiled. "It's been fair enough." Then her eyes wandered down to Lady, and Ahnnie had the distinct feeling she was not as pleased about the pregnancy as her adopted daughter was.

Ahnnie exited the stall and gestured Flissa away. They stood a few stalls down from the other girls, speaking lowly so they would not hear. "It was quite a surprise, wasn't it?" Ahnnie asked her.

Flissa sighed. "You could say that again...I was not even aware that the dog was in heat...must've copulated with some stray around town. She gets to wander freely during the day, after all."

So that explains it. Ahnnie tracked the dates in her mind, and estimated the time of mating to be some weeks before the trip to the Hinterlands. It wasn't a wonder no one noticed anything – Flissa would have been too busy with the management of her tavern, Ahnnie herself too preoccupied with her lessons, Netta too young to understand the significance, and the straw bedding too uneven to catch any spots of blood. Even if a strange smell was detected, they would have just chalked it up to unsanitary conditions.

"With new recruits and refugees coming in, I just don't know how we're going to scrounge enough food to feed a whole litter of pups," Flissa continued.

Ahnnie's gut twisted as she heard that familiar argument, used so many times before against her. But Flissa was not at fault; unlike some people, Flissa actually had a legitimate concern. "I'll think of something," she promised the innkeeper emptily, not quite certain of just what she would do. "And besides, Nala says it looks like a small litter. Given Lady's size, that makes sense. My dog is much bigger, on the other hand."

That seemed to take some of the edge off her worries. With a careful nod and a 'by your leave', Flissa walked back into the tavern. Ahnnie watched her weary feet trudge through the snow, then looked back towards Lady's stall, listening to Netta's delighted giggles and squeals. Whatever happens, she promised herself, I'm not going to let any of those pups die. I'm not going to let Netta's smiles turn into sobs. No one's going to feel burdened by their existence...not if I can do something about it.

"Oh, Ahnnie?"

She whirled her head back in the direction of the tavern. The silhouette of Flissa's upper body was peeking through the side door. "A soldier came by looking for you. You're needed at the Chantry."

And back to work I go. "Tell him I'm coming," she replied, and went back to Lady's stall to let the girls know.

One of the first people Ahnnie saw upon entering the Chantry was Mother Giselle. She couldn't help but smile as the kindly Chantry Mother inquired after her well-being and allowed herself to lapse into a short conversation. Mother Giselle had left the Hinterlands for Haven before Ahnnie and the others could, so this was the first time since their last talk that they had met. Their talk was mostly pleasantries, although there were several allusions to the trip to Val Royeaux.

"Maker be with you, child," Mother Giselle blessed her when she had to go.

"You too, Mother Giselle," Ahnnie returned, and paced down the hall towards the door of the council room.

But when she entered, she realized it wasn't so much a council room anymore as it was a war room. The map that draped the long table in the middle was dotted with pawn-like figurines, and the rest of the room was devoid of extraneous furniture, chairs especially, which was a key indicator that the map was meant to be considered whilst standing, not sitting.

The only other person besides Ahnnie herself was Leliana. The spymaster had been observing a pawn in her hand before she noticed the girl's entrance. "Ah, you're here," she remarked, her voice as melodious as ever.

Ahnnie approached the table and looked around the room. "Did you need me for something?"

"Yes, but we're still waiting for Josephine, Cassandra, and Cullen."

So this is serious. She wondered what it was about. In the meantime, she decided to ask the spymaster about Blackwall. "Did you find out anything about him? Was there something that we might have missed?"

Leliana shook her head. "It seems he truly knows nothing about the disappearance of the Grey Wardens. It's a disappointment. I am, however, glad that he is with us, even if he was...not what I expected." She turned her gaze upon the map as she put the pawn back down, but continued, "He seems to be a good man and his experience will be an asset to the Inquisition. As for the other Wardens, I suppose we will have to keep looking."

"I wonder what happened," Ahnnie thought aloud. She didn't know much about the Wardens, just what Solas told her back when she was clueless about Thedas. They fought darkspawn whenever they appeared, and had gained renown for defeating every Blight, but beyond that she had no way of understanding the significance of their mass disappearance. She only knew it seemed very funky for so many of them, supposedly unassuming and solitary people, to go missing at once.

Her thoughts were directed from the Grey Wardens when the door opened and Josephine entered. "Greetings, Lady Ahnnie," the Antivan woman smiled, her perfect teeth sparkling in the candlelight.

Following shortly afterwards were Cullen and Cassandra. Now that the gathering was complete, they could get down to business. Today's agenda: the pending trip to Val Royeaux.

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

"You can't be serious," Cullen protested. "I know it's probably been arranged, but that still doesn't make it a good idea."

"Mother Giselle isn't wrong; at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."

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

Josephine looked over at Ahnnie. "Let's ask her."

Ahnnie had not expected to be involved so soon in the talk, but was quick to voice her honest opinion. "It's mostly going to be talk. Other than harsh words, I don't think there's much to worry about."

"Do not underestimate the power of their words," Leliana warned. "An angry mob will do you in just as quickly as a blade."

Ahnnie scratched the back of her head. "Well...I guess, but...I've got to go. It's necessary, isn't it? I can't just decide not to at the last minute."

Cassandra stepped closer to Ahnnie. "I will go with you," she said to the girl. And to Leliana, "Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them."

The spymaster frowned and shook her head. "But why? This is nothing but a–"

"What choice do we have, Leliana?" Cassandra interrupted. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach." She next addressed the advisors in general, instructing them, "Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

Cassandra is definitely the leader of the Inquisition, Ahnnie thought as she listened to the Seeker. Leliana didn't argue back, and even Cullen seemed mollified. Josephine, who had been partial to the trip in the first place, began scribbling some notes on her writing board in acknowledgement of Cassandra's statement. "Ah, yes, I will also be going with you," she added to Ahnnie, pointing at the girl with the feathered tip of her quill.

"Really?" Ahnnie asked. "Why?"

"Val Royeaux is not just the religious capital of the Chantry," Josephine explained. "It is the capital city of Orlais – the center of the Grand Game. You do remember what I told you of speaking to nobility in our diplomacy lesson?" When she nodded, Josephine continued, "The Game is much like that, but more complex. With what little practice you have, you will not be able to navigate its machinations very smoothly."

"It's just the Chantry clerics," Ahnnie reminded her, feeling uneasy at the mention of the Game.

"Yes, but your presence in Val Royeaux might pique the interest of those outside the Chantry. Lady Cassandra is a stalwart protector, of that I have no doubt." Josephine nodded pleasantly at the Seeker. "But when it comes to the nuances of diplomacy, I am better suited for giving you advice. It is also a good chance to spread our influence and possibly garner some favors amongst the city's powerful."

The girl felt more at ease with this explanation and could see the wisdom in having someone like Josephine along. Once that was finished, Leliana took her aside to show her the route she would be taking.

"You'll be heading along this road, skirting Lake Calenhad and then northeasterly through Gherlen's Pass to the port city of Jader. That should take you roughly eight to ten days. Then you will go by ship, and depending on the wind and vessel, you might reach Val Royeaux anywhere from two days and a half to one day and a half. We've not yet determined exactly when you will leave, but we will let you know beforehand."

Ahnnie nodded absentmindedly, retracing the routes with her eyes. I didn't know the Orlesian border was so close to the Frostbacks, she remarked, for Jader was an Orlesian city. That's pretty cool. At the same time, she had mixed feelings about another trip out of Haven. I hope I don't have to leave too soon. I'd like to stay and rest awhile. At least this trip included ship travel, which added some variety. She'd only been on one once, a cruise liner when she was ten, and hoped this ship wouldn't be one of those dirty cramped vessels she read about in history class.

"I'll send some soldiers with you," Cullen then decided. "We'd want to make an impression with our men and it'd put me more at ease about the whole affair."

Josephine nodded. "I shall see to the arrangements."

Then Ahnnie thought of an idea, and asked, "Could I bring other people with me too?"

Cullen mulled it over. "I don't see why not, as long as they're willing. Might spare me some men if they're any good with a sword."

"Sounds great," Ahnnie smiled.

She twisted the doorknob and opened the door, sniffing deeply at the familiar scents within. Closing the door behind her, Ahnnie kicked off her boots and flopped stomach first onto her bed. The cabin was dark and the fireplace unlit, but she wanted a moment's rest before seeing to all that. With a contented sigh she closed her eyes, feeling comfortable atop the blanket and pillow. They weren't the best, but they were certainly softer than a bedroll on the ground.

This is the life, she thought.

She had gone to the Singing Maiden right after the meeting, but Blackwall wasn't there, and neither was Varric for that matter, so she did the first thing that came to mind and that was to head back to her cabin. She regretted the decision not at all and flipped over onto her back before swinging to her feet and grabbing hold of the flints and some logs. Within seconds a fire began to grow, and she stretched out her hands to warm them in its heat.

When it burned bright enough, she took her journal and a graphite pencil from the desk and sat before the fire to write, draw, read – whatever she felt like doing in that moment. But one thing was clear, and that was that she felt safe and fulfilled.

For she was at home.