The ambience of the war room was ageless and cunning, a testing ground of ideas and strategies and plans. Though it had only been in use for as long as the new Inquisition, already it felt like a place where history had made its mark. And ever since Ahnnie's latest absence, it now seemed to burn with an even greater purpose – she could feel it as the mounting tension in the air, in the very thrum of her veins and the passionate voices around her.

"It's not a matter for debate," Commander Cullen said with finality. "There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be prepared!"

"If we rescind the nature of the alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worse," Lady Josephine reminded him, crisply.

Madame Vivienne's smooth and chocolatey voice countered the ambassador primly, a hint of resentment in every syllable. "But since Fiona and her malcontents are joining us as allies rather than conscripts, regrettable as that is, precautions have become necessary. Abominations are inevitable."

Ahnnie knew this conversation was coming, one way or another. The nature of the mages' inclusion had still been unknown while on the way back to Haven; it was only several days before coming close to the little mountain village that she and Cassandra came to an accord. Surprisingly enough, the Seeker acquiesced to the girl's wishes. It did not happen immediately, but Ahnnie's supplications, delivered to the best of her ability, eventually won over. It was an accomplishment the likes of which Ahnnie never thought could happen with someone as stoic as Cassandra, but now she knew the woman wasn't as emotionally immovable as she seemed. The result became public knowledge moments after arriving at Haven's gates and prompted the war room meeting they now attended.

"What were you thinking, turning mages loose with no oversight?" Cullen snapped at the girl. "Might I remind you, the Veil is torn open!"

Ahnnie met his disapproval with as level a gaze as she could muster. "I understand what you're saying," she said, "but we need their help to close the Breach. It would be better if they were treated as equals rather than criminals."

The Commander shook his head. "I know we need them for the Breach, but they could do as much damage as the demons themselves!" To Cassandra, he reproached, "You were there, Seeker! Why didn't you intervene?"

"While I may not completely agree with the decision, I support it," Cassandra replied evenly. "The sole point of the Herald's mission was to gain the mages' aid, and that was accomplished."

Suddenly, the door burst open and the attendees were graced with a flamboyant exclamation: "The voice of pragmatism speaks! And here I was just starting to enjoy the circular arguments."

Everyone turned around to find a dark haired, olive skinned mage standing in the doorway, an artful grin displayed beneath his well-groomed mustache. Beside him an Inquisition soldier made her flustered way into the room to address the meeting.

"Dorian Pavus, sers," the soldier announced belatedly, before withdrawing altogether and closing the door behind her.

A puzzled silence enveloped the air, to be broken by Madame Vivienne a few seconds later. "Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous," she warned with a suspicious eye trained on Dorian. "Anyone who forgets this truth gets burned."

"Closing the Breach is all that matters," Cassandra reiterated.

"Besides, we have templars here," Ahnnie added with optimism. "They can still help. We should bring them together and head down to the Breach as soon as possible."

Lady Josephine's bronzed skin flashed in the candlelight as she gave her nod of assent. "Agreed."

"There are not enough templars to handle incidents," Vivienne interposed. "Some of the rank and file need to be trained."

"They will have to make do," Cassandra said. "Training would only take up more time than we have the luxury to spare, a problem for us even with conscripts."

The spymaster, previously silent, expressed her contemplation in a grave voice at both Ahnnie and Dorian in turn: "We should also look into the things you saw in this 'dark future'. The assassination of Empress Celene? A demon army? Otherworldly technology?" In addition to being forewarned of the rebel mages' arrival, Leliana had also been thoroughly informed of the pair's account. Unlike others, who were mostly concerned with the Elder One, she took the aforementioned details very seriously.

"Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do," Dorian remarked, hilariously sarcastic to the point of glee. "Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone!"

Cullen sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "One battle at a time," he pleaded. "It's going to take time to organize our troops and the mage recruits. And I know there's not much of it to be spared for extra training, but a contingency plan should be put into place – you can't deny the possibility of abominations, regardless of how you view the mages."

"Indeed," Vivienne affirmed, "the Commander speaks wisely. You'd do well to listen to him, my dear."

Her condescending tone stung. "Of course," Ahnnie nodded, understanding of the logic presented before her; what she was not so comfortable with was the offhanded way with which the mages were mentioned, as though they were unstable and clueless children. But there was no point in stirring up dissent now over that one opinion.

If such views bothered Dorian at all, the Tevinter mage did not show it. "My services are available for this endeavor, should you choose to accept them," he offered. "I would like to see this Breach up close."

Ahnnie blinked in surprise. "Then you're staying?" He had traveled back with them to give testimony on Alexius, but she assumed he would eventually return to Tevinter like Felix had done.

His perfect brows went up in astonishment. "Oh, didn't I mention it? The South is so charming and rustic. I adore it to little pieces."

Ironically put or not, his words brought a smile to her face. "There's no one I'd rather be stranded in time with, future or present," said Ahnnie, delightedly.

"Excellent choice!" Dorian laughed. "But let's not get 'stranded' anytime again soon, yes?"

Cassandra let them have their moment, listening to their exchange with the subtlest hint of a smirk. "I am glad it delights the both of you so," she said once they were done. "Your services will be welcome, Dorian Pavus, so long as you show no sign of betraying the Inquisition to Tevinter. Do not think we are lax with you now just because you saved the Herald."

Dorian nodded, serious this time. "You have my word, Lady Cassandra."

"Well, then." Cullen rolled his great shoulders as he bent down to examine the map, hands planted squarely at its edges. "I'll begin preparations to march on the summit. Give me three days at the least, a week at most. Maker willing, the mages will be enough to grant us victory."

Madame Vivienne shifted closer to the long table with her arms crossed. "Let us hope for the best," she said, though not quite happily.

"A new path was cleared through the pass towards the northeast," Leliana mentioned. "It'll save us a considerable amount of time and eliminate the need for detouring around that troublesome west bend..."

The rebel mages were put to work as soon as they were able.

Almost immediately after the meeting, those who were healthy enough were organized and split into different ranks. And as soon as the day after, they were practicing drills with the mages already at Haven under the watchful eyes of Enchanter Fiona and Madame Vivienne. It would have been difficult to miss them, training out on an open field outside Haven. Ahnnie had gone there after a sweat-inducing workout with Corporal Hargrave just to see what a magic army would look like.

Dressed in plain yet smartly fitting leather armor, the mages seemed no different from the Inquisition soldiers except for their staves. The drills were a combination of target practice, mana strengthening, and (of course) mental exercises on how to keep one's mind guarded against demonic temptation, courtesy of Madame Vivienne. To Ahnnie, however, the exercises seemed mostly a repeated lecture on the dangers of magic and corruptibility of mages.

All in all, things seemed to go well. Fiona and Vivienne hadn't been at each other's throats, which was what she thought at first might happen. They were actually being quite civil with one another, even if coldly. She returned to Haven after growing bored watching the largely uneventful mental exercises and let out a sigh of satisfaction as the crisp Frostback wind cooled her forehead. In a wistful mood, Winter Wonderland started playing in her head.

Humming through the chorus, Ahnnie strolled for the Singing Maiden to see how Netta and the pups were getting along. They should be ten or eleven weeks by now? They'll have been weaned since I was last here. Has Charley's ear pointed up yet? But alas, the answers to those questions were to be postponed as Flissa, regrettably, informed her of the little girl's fever.

"She's to stay in bed on Adan's orders, for at least another day or two," the innkeeper said. "The dogs in the meantime are staying with Nala, if you want to go see them. Oh, there's been two letters for you from Ostwick as well. They came before you left for the Storm Coast, but I couldn't get them to you in time. Would you like them now?"

"Yes, please." She waited patiently while Flissa went round the back to retrieve them, and took up the folded parchments with a smile. "Thanks again, Flissa. I promise to repay you when I can. You deserve it for all the hard work you do."

"Goodness. You're always saying that. Never you mind about paying me anything," Flissa scolded. "I don't do what I do expecting a reward for every little action. No more about this from you, you hear?"

Ahnnie could promise nothing in that regard, but played along anyway. She bid the innkeeper farewell and sent her best wishes to Netta before exiting the tavern and resuming from later on, we'll conspire; as we dream, by the fire...

Visiting the puppies was next on her list of things to do, but the skittish healer's assistant was unavailable. Oh well. She still had plenty of time, and the letters in her hand were growing more tempting by the minute. Sweeping off some snow from a low stone wall, Ahnnie plopped her bottom down and broke open the seal to the earliest marked letter.

Dear Ahnnie,

I've heard of what happened with the Templars in Val Royeaux...I don't know what to say. I'm in awe, and...well, my family is not very happy, as you may know. It was bad enough hearing that the Templars deserted the Chantry. To find that they've allowed a demon to pose as Lord Seeker is just...

Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. It must have been horrific, what you had to experience – I wish I had been there. It frustrates me to no end, knowing you're out there risking your life while I'm just here in Ostwick, biding my time!

I hope we can meet again soon. The Inquisition presence at the Grand Cathedral is very encouraging. Father speaks less ill of you than he used to. Opinions are changing, slowly but surely.

Best Wishes,

Eliana

Ahnnie felt a surge of excitement upon reading the last paragraph. If we do well enough, Evelyn can actually come! She folded the first letter away before picking up the second, wondering what its contents would entail?

Judging by the postdate, it was written a day after the first one. Puzzled, Ahnnie unfolded it to find that it was a list of titles. Then she realized they were the titles of books authored by Varric. At the end of the list was a postscript:

I forgot to include this for you in my previous letter, when clearly you had requested it in your last reply! What a nitwit I am! Please forgive me.

Also, since you mentioned it, I picked up a copy of Swords and Shields. It's not bad at all. A little cheesy, but...well now I'm hooked. You should definitely give it a try and see if you can't get the author to sign it for you.

Ahnnie smiled and folded the paper back into place, tucking both letters neatly into the confines of her close-fitting coat. If I write a letter now, I can expect it to ship out sometime tomorrow or after tomorrow...she wasn't sure if Ostwick had heard of the latest events in Redcliffe yet, so she supposed it could be the subject of her reply. But then by the time Evelyn received it, the news might already be the talk of the Free Marches. Oh well. At least she'll get to read my version of it. Speaking of which, I wonder if I can ask her about Cole...?

By god. Why on earth had she never thought of that before? The Trevelyan was a spirit mage, for Christ's sake. Who better to ask about Cole outside of the companions than her?

Jumping to her feet, Ahnnie dashed down the path towards her cabin. It was going to be a long letter she would be sending to Ostwick.

Time eventually caught up to her, between the harried lessons with Hargrave, visits to Netta, checking in on the mages, and playtime with the puppies, when an Inquisition soldier informed her of the impending march to the Breach not more than two days away. The word came five days after the meeting, fitting snugly within the time frame Commander Cullen had promised. It was an announcement made loud and clear to all those who resided in Haven and stirred such a wave of optimism that the townspeople held a feast in the Singing Maiden that same night.

Pooped out from another long day, Ahnnie declined to attend the feast, choosing instead to have a quiet dinner in her cabin. All that we went through, in the Hinterlands and Val Royeaux and the Storm Coast and Redcliffe, to come to this moment...it was an unimaginable yet awe-inspiring thought. And it was a wonder to her that anyone could cheer through the night in the face of such a daunting task. Then again, she was the only one who held the key to stopping the Breach; she might as well be the only one who felt this way.

And say I do seal the Breach successfully...what comes next?

A knock at the door broke that chain of thought as suddenly as a hammer fall. Who could it be? Ahnnie wondered instead, and got up to open the door with a puzzled frown.

"Oh! Solas!" she exclaimed with a jolt.

The elven mage smiled. "You were not expecting me," he guessed. "I apologize. But you were absent at the tavern..."

So that's where you were tonight? It was hard for her to imagine the bald elf in the Singing Maiden, eating and drinking amongst the local populace...but then they must have accepted him by now, just as they came to accept the rebel mages. "Please, come in," she invited. "You don't have to take off your shoes," she added when he spotted the boots by the doorway. "It's just me, really."

"Thank you," he said a moment later. "I'll just be sitting by the fire for a bit. No need, I'm not hungry," he declined when she made to offer him a bowl of stew. There being only one chair, which she was currently using, Solas settled instead on the edge of her bed. "So," he began. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" Though she knew what it was about before he even spoke.

"For the Breach. In the next two days, it will be sealed once and for all. Can you imagine it?"

Ahnnie slowly lowered herself into her chair with an equally slow shake of her head. "No, it's...it's always been something that was so...far away. 'We need to seal the Breach; it must be dealt with ASAP; the longer it stays, the more danger we're in' – that's what I kept hearing, and I believe in it too, but...now that it comes down to it..."

"Are you afraid?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

Solas' eyes sparkled thoughtfully as he gazed into hers, as if in search for a hidden truth she was trying to conceal. "You hold a lot inside you, da'len," he said at last, "more than I think is good for you. You'll ask about others, immerse yourself in their experiences, but when it comes to divulging your own you are worse than the stingiest miser."

"I-I...what?" she stuttered, unable to discern whether he was insulting her or trying to help her.

"Except for our first serious talk about Thedas, it has always taken outside initiation to get you to open up on your thoughts. After Envy and what recently happened in Redcliffe, you still haven't expressed yourself to anyone, where naturally a few confidences here and there would have occurred." He gave her a pointed look. "There is more that you are not saying, and I can tell. Many of the others too, for that matter."

Her mouth worked like a broken hinge in finding a reply, until at last she shook her head. "I think you're mistaken. I didn't come to the tavern because I was tired, not because..."

"But one can still think and feel, even when tired." He looked at her beseechingly. "Do you trust in me so little? If there are any questions you have, or any concerns, it would be best to get them off your chest before you head to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They may not be gone completely, but you will feel much better."

In the face of such a heartfelt plea, she felt guilty. "Well..." She idly poked the meat in her stew with her chopsticks. "I guess I do have a question..."

"Go on."

"After the Breach is stopped..." Ahnnie frowned. "What, exactly, happens next?"

"The Inquisition will try to broker peace between the templars and mages, of course," Solas answered. "And if possible, discover who this enigmatic Elder One is."

"Okay, but where do I fit into all of that? Once the Breach is gone, and there's no more need to use my mark...will I just be..." She gulped. "...cast aside?"

Solas stared at her awhile in shock before breaking into choppy laughter. "Oh – oh no, da'len, you're – well, you're not wrong in feeling concerned," he assured her, "but that is – no, the Inquisition would never dream of it. They're more honorable than that, and the people would never let them be if they were to suddenly cast the Herald of Andraste aside. When, if ever, your mark finds itself unemployed, I think you'll find a decent if not comfortable existence awaiting you here."

She raised a questioning eyebrow. "If ever?"

"Sealing the Breach does not mean the rifts throughout Thedas will suddenly disappear," he pointed out. "New ones will stop appearing, but the current ones will continue to exist until you close them. There's no telling how many rifts have been opened, so your mark will be in use for some time, I'm sure."

I see, she thought, staring dazedly into the fire. So I'll still have more work to do.

Mistaking her contemplative silence for confusion, Solas launched into a more thorough explanation: "The Breach is a hole in the Veil that acts as a conduit for opening rifts. When you seal the Breach, you bring the Veil back into balance and seal away the Fade from the waking world for good. Thus, no more new rifts."

She was about to tell him that she understood the first time around, until the weight of what he said dawned upon her. "Wait, so...there'll be no way to enter the Fade physically?"

"No. There has never been a way until you came. Why do you..." He paused, his face blanching. "Oh. Oh dear...in all of the excitement, I had forgotten about...I didn't think you wanted..."

She held up a hand to stop him. "It's okay," she said. "I didn't even think about it until now."

He looked at her helplessly, then down at the stone floor. For the first time ever, she saw him wring his hands. "I am so sorry, da'len. I wish I could tell you it is possible, but once the Breach is sealed, it is not an easy feat to tear another hole in the Veil. Even then the chances of surviving physically in the Fade are very rare; and the chances of finding an exit to another world, even rarer; it was a miracle you were able to find your way here in the first place."

Ahnnie swallowed. "I know," was her strained answer.

A weighty silence fell between them, and for a while the only sound anyone registered was the crackling of the fire. Should've seen it coming, she sighed. Even so, she had been aware of this deep down. She just wouldn't give voice to it; she refused to. Yet every time she spoke or thought of going home, she knew it to be an empty promise, something to say to make her sound driven, an incentive with no backing. To have it confirmed now in technical terms was not so very strange, just...depressing.

Suddenly Solas began to rise, snapping Ahnnie out of her reverie. "You should rest," he said to her, a pitying smile softening his features. "You will be busy tomorrow."

She bit down on her lower lip as a pang of sharp yet sweet emotions stung her. Sticking her chopsticks into the cube of meat she had been toying with, Ahnnie rose to close the gap between them. "Hahren," she began with a hand on his arm, for he was too tall for her to reach his shoulder, "please don't feel bad about this. It's not your fault. What matters is that I deal with the Breach first; after that, I can worry about finding a way home." She smiled encouragingly at him. "You promised to help me with my magic, remember? Maybe we'll find something then."

But the expression on his face seemed a mix of pain and confusion. If she had to choose an adjective to describe it, she would say 'wounded' – perhaps even 'guilty'. Ahnnie wondered why that would be and searched the familiar corners and curves of his visage for the answers, though she knew not what she expected to find. "Perhaps," he let out at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "Good night, da'len." Then, unexpectedly, he bent his head forward to plant a light kiss against her forehead.

Ahnnie was still baffled at his reaction hours after his departure. She spent the last few minutes before sleep overtook her pondering the reasons for his sadness other than a strong sense of empathy. Because if I'm not mistaken, she thought with a frown, he seemed even more devastated than me.

Two days is not an awfully long time to wait. Not when one's schedule is kept tight, and especially not when one counts the days upon rising from bed. The day after tomorrow quickly becomes tomorrow, which in turn becomes today.

That fateful morning, Seeker Cassandra found Ahnnie awake, armed, and dressed, but engrossed in reminiscence over her journal, pajamas, and orthopaedic shoe. The girl was not surprised to find Cassandra at the door, however, and put nostalgia aside the moment the woman entered and announced herself. She left the cabin with her possessions spread out on her bed so that she might enjoy them later.

All of Haven were witness to the Herald's arrival at the Chantry, where a few certain things were to be performed before marching to the Temple. First was the donning of a dark leather armor on her person, imprinted with the symbol of the Inquisition in gray thread as a finishing touch by the local tanner. Next was a series of prayers and blessings performed by the Chantry sisters, headed by Mother Giselle.

"Maker be with you," the gentle Mother finished, touching Ahnnie's forehead with cool and fragrant fingers – right where Solas had kissed her, coincidentally enough – before going on to give the rest of her company the same holy gestures.

"Don't need none of that, thanks," Sera swerved away as Mother Giselle came close, making a face and quite effectively ruining the moment.

When the formalities were finished, they exited to find the bulk of their force headed by Commander Cullen on one side and Enchanter Fiona on the other standing ready and grave in the falling snow. With a single nod from Seeker Cassandra, the soldiers and mages shaped themselves into formation and began to march for Haven's gates.

"Wait!" The little voice pierced the air as suddenly as thunder.

Ahnnie whirled around. "Netta!" she cried, and intercepted the child before she lost herself amongst the taller legs. "What are you doing here? You just got better–"

Netta thrust a spiny pinecone into her face, cupped gently in her hands as though it were a delicate treasure. "The flowers haven't come yet, so this was the only thing I could find. But look! Isn't it the most perfect one you ever saw?"

Ahnnie laughed. "Yes, it is. Thank you," and she took the pinecone into her own hands. "Now go back inside! Your mama won't be happy if you got sick again."

Even after Haven had disappeared from view, the sweet little gesture felt as fresh as though it had occurred mere seconds ago. Ahnnie clasped the gift close in both hands and looked down upon it occasionally with a smile on her face.

"And with the great pinecone in hand, a mighty sword in the other, the Herald of Andraste did smite the Breach from the sky," Varric recited as though reading from an epic. "How much are you willing to bet that's going into some biography of yours?"

Ahnnie gave him an amused sidelong glance. "I don't know. I don't have any money."

But even if she did, all the money in the world could never have assuaged the growing weight in her chest as the Temple of Sacred Ashes drew near. Leliana's calculations brought them to it faster than before, and even under all the snow, Ahnnie still recognized the ashen pathway of the dead she had walked through so many months ago. Some of the mummies had been eroded or broken by the harsh winds, but most still stood intact with their eternal terror to haunt her soul all over again. She took a deep breath and clutched the pinecone closer to her chest.

The world darkened for a minute as the procession filed through the little tunnel leading into the Temple ruins, its torches long extinguished. When the world brightened again, it was not with the milky white light of cloudy skies reflecting against snow. Rather, it was the electric green flare of the swirling Breach, as tall and menacing as it had been the first time she beheld it. Ahnnie's eyes were transfixed upon it as she was led down the winding steps to the crater by Cassandra and Solas, while the other companions and soldiers and mages took up positions around the ruined chamber.

Her left hand began to tingle as soon as her feet touched the crater's charred gravel, and she whipped it away from the pinecone to find her mark bursting alive, crackling and spitting as though in delight of meeting the Breach again. Ready to face your maker? Ahnnie asked it with some amusement. But if it had a response, it was one she couldn't understand.

A firm hand pressed her shoulder. Ahnnie turned to find Solas nodding gravely at her. "Go now," he said. "We will be right behind you."

She clenched the hand holding the pinecone tighter and returned the nod. Then with another deep breath, she forged ahead into the center of the crater. The Breach's base swirled wildly around her, whipping up gravel and hair like the onset of a cyclone. She raised her flaring hand as she went, palm forward, to both shield her face and allow its magic to create the beam that would close it all. Its electric sizzling increased with every step.

While she was thus occupied, the Seeker and hedge mage turned to the people assembled above. They were arranged as strategically as possible around the curve of the crater, the mages with their staffs in hand, the templars and regular soldiers sandwiching them with wary weapons. Madame Vivienne replaced Enchanter Fiona as head of the mages this time around, her serpentine staff glittering coldly as she supervised their ranks. Mixed in between were the Chargers, and flanking either side were the archers.

"Mages!" Cassandra shouted, capturing their attention.

"Focus past the Herald!" Solas instructed them. "Let her will draw from you."

Upon that command, Madame Vivienne sank her staff into the ground and knelt as she channeled her mana. One by one, the other mages followed suit, and the air became alive with the thrum of magic. Their power and thoughts coagulated in an unseen mass that Ahnnie suddenly felt within her as a surge of energy, dazzling and vibrant. As she had felt it happen before, the fire stirred in her belly and shot forward from the mark. A brilliant beam snaked away from her hand to coil around the center of the Breach, beautiful and perilous in its wild dance.

The air sang with a ringing melody as the two forces collided. The groan and splintering of the Breach was the percussion, the screeching gale the woodwinds, the snapping crackle the strings. The little figures in the ruins below were the conductors, moving the song from chord to undulating chord as it played through the snowy mountain air. Their symphony amassed into a powerful crescendo, stronger and stronger until it was a deafening fortissimo.

Then, in one great crash, it was over.

The Breach exploded with an earth-shaking boom, sweeping across the Temple in a vast sonic wave that sent everyone flying to the ground. Smoke and dust clouded the air and invaded the lungs. Shaken, dazed, the people struggled to their feet. Cassandra was the first one up, shoving past coughing mages and dizzy soldiers to the darkened crater, now silent save for the wind.

In its concave center right where the Breach had once been knelt a small and hunched figure, long black hair flying in the breeze. Approaching her from behind, Cassandra fished Ahnnie back to reality with a hand on her shoulder. "You did it," the Seeker breathed.

The girl rose to her feet and cast a sweeping gaze over the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The sky above, though still swirling with storm, was no longer plagued by any shade of green. And through the ringing and popping in her ears, through the hissing keen of the wind, the cheers of happy men and women replaced the crashing roars of the Breach.

"I did it, indeed," Ahnnie breathed. Turning round to the cheering congregation, she thrust up her left hand in a fist and shouted, "We all did it!"

It was a triumph worthy of legend, one that would no doubt be spoken and sung of for generations to come. But that was not on Ahnnie's mind at the moment. She'd done it; finally, after all that she'd been through, after all the fights and talks and blood, sweat, and tears...she'd sealed the Breach without incident, and along with it, the door to her way home.

Music echoed through the mountains that night, sprightly and festive as a new holiday. Laughter and singing filled all of Haven and its tiers burned bright with merry bonfires. The scent of roasting food and heady alcohol carried on the wind, stimulating the senses both emotional and physical. Only a fool would turn away from it in disgust, and a coldhearted one, at that.

Ahnnie was neither a fool nor coldhearted. Solas himself confirmed the Breach was gone, the Veil brought back into balance; even without his word, evidence could be seen in the scarred but calm heavens. The threat of demons and catastrophe was over.

"Woohoohoo!" Sera cheered as she swung down a flight of stairs, landing beside Ahnnie in the middle tier. "Lookit you, all glowy with your Heraldness! Now that's some good magic, if I ever saw any. How's it feel, eh?"

"Like a good time to get stinking drunk," Krem put in from behind them, drawing their attention. He flashed a brilliant white smile. "Chief's already halfway there. If your ears feel like they're getting raped by a dying cow mooing through a rusty trumpet, that's him."

Ahnnie laughed. "Oh c'mon, his singing can't be that bad! Anyway, drinks sound good. I'll head over to the Singing Maiden and get us some."

Krem stopped her before she could leave, however. "Ah-ah! Drinks're on me tonight. Just sit back and tell me what you want." When she tried to insist, he said, "It's all right, I just got paid."

With a smug smile Ahnnie untied a pouch from her belt and held it before him, its contents jingling. "So did I."

Sera let out of squeal of delight. "I want an ale! The largest mug they've got!"

"You got it," Ahnnie winked. "And is it a beer or whisky for you, Krem?"

He tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't relent. She even tried to dash off for the tavern when he moved to push her hand down. "Just one beer then," he conceded, "but I'm paying for the next round!"

"If I'll let you!" she called back over her shoulder with a laugh, already on her merry way the moment she heard the word "beer". As she jogged past the singing and dancing people, declining invitations to join left, right, and center, she almost missed the thick trunk of ginger chest hair standing in the middle of her path.

"Easy there, o great Pinecone Wielder," Varric exclaimed before she could run into him. "Spare me from your prickly wrath, for I have done no wrong."

Ahnnie paused and then laughed. "We shall see about that," she joked, "but in all seriousness, I lost the pinecone after the Breach exploded. I think I may have crushed it too while I was going in."

He shrugged. "Well, hey, it served its purpose. On your way to the tavern?"

"Yup. You want anything? I got the money."

"Nah, I'm good," he said, raising his flask to show her.

She nodded and turned to move away, but then stopped, remembering something. She took up the pouch again and opened it to dig through the coins inside, withdrawing the amount she believed appropriate. "Here," she handed them to Varric. "For the stew and two ales."

"Wha–" The dwarf stared in astonishment at the proffered money. "Do I look like a debtor to you?" he asked at last.

Ahnnie pushed them forward anyway. "Humor me. This is my last day as a freeloader...it's the least you could do."

He gave her a curious glance, which he held for a long while. She stared right back at him, willing to wait for as long as it took. "All right," he sighed, and opened up his free palm.

But before the money could switch hands, warning bells frantically tolled over Haven. Startled, Ahnnie dropped the coins into Varric's hand and perked up instinctively in the bells' direction. They both thought at first that it might be a mistake, the action of some drunken dimwit in the watchtowers; but then Commander Cullen's voice cut through the tolls, instilling both dread and urgency within those who heard it.

"Forces approaching! To arms!"

And just like that, the songs were snuffed out of existence, the laughter dying, the merriment gone. Ahnnie and Varric exchanged a brief glance before dashing off to the gates.

They arrived to find Cassandra and the advisors gathered amongst the soldiers, faces grim. "Cullen?" Ahnnie asked, breathlessly.

"One watchguard reporting," he was saying to Josephine. "It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

"Under what banner?" Josephine inquired.

"None."

"None?" she repeated in disbelief.

Cassandra grimaced as she listened to the bells. "Maker's breath. Just when we closed the Breach!"

The doors of the gate suddenly started banging beneath the fist of some harried outsider. Startled, Ahnnie whipped out her glaive, pointing it threateningly at the vibrating doors.

"I can't come in unless you open!" the muffled voice of whoever it was cried.

Cullen signalled for them all to stand ready as they listened for the stranger. At the same time, the gate guards held their levers steady, waiting for the Commander's instructions. So far, it seemed like only one person. The banging continued undisturbed, and the voice pleaded them with a greater ferocity.

"Please!" he cried again. "You need to open–"

Open they did, and the stranger fell through with an unceremonious yelp. Blades and arrows pointed at him, threatening to pierce the life from him should he make a false move.

But one blade did not join the others. Ahnnie's glaive lowered instead at the sight of the tattered young man before them. As if in response, he looked up and stared at her with wide, blue-gray eyes.

"Cole!" she whispered.