In the morning, Evelyn hid herself away in a quiet spot to compose a report that had enough truth that Leliana wouldn't give her away, but not so much that every soldier in Fereldan would beat a path to the Wilds. Found traces of Mythal along with another Eluvian. Abelas confident she is still in this world. I may be possessed, but not in a bad way. She scratched out the last part and groaned.
Hawke laughed behind her. "I always hated writing those things, too. You should really consider getting a seneschal. They're amazing with paperwork."
"Find me one who can organize my brain and keep all my thoughts a secret and you're on," she said. "And don't say Varric. Cullen said if I ever let him write the reports again he'd mutiny. Too many innuendos."
"He does have his own style." Hawke sat next to her. "How is the Knight-Commander, by the way? Last time I was at Skyhold you two seemed pretty friendly." She waggled her eyebrows. Evelyn's jaw tightened, and she didn't reply.
"Ah, I see. Look, don't give up on him. It took me years to lure Fenris in and even more to get him over himself. Cullen's been through a lot, but I know that he's loyal. And good at heart. He hated mages as much as anyone, but he believed in me when it counted."
Evelyn wiped her eyes. "How do you and Fenris deal with it? Being apart, with secrets?"
"I think you got a perfect demonstration! He snarls, I smile, we work out our feelings with enthusiasm, we move on." She smirked. "The one who's scared the other the most has to make their penance. But that's just what works for us. Fenris is physical, everything right on the surface. Cullen seems a little more internal. He probably wants to talk. Not my style."
Evelyn nodded. She thought about how many letters of perfect honesty she'd written him that burned in past fires. Hawke glanced away. "I'm no good at relationship advice, Inquisitor. But if you can't be honest, be passionate, and if you can't be passionate, be patient. I'm sure it will work itself out." She stood. "I really came to tell you that we're leaving and to thank you for your help and hospitality and all of that garbage. I'm sorry if Fenris riled your people up. I've sent word to Elissa that you're taking on my errand for me, so if it goes wrong now, it's all on your head."
Her eyes sparked, and Evelyn wondered how much she guessed. "Thanks, Hawke. It's been good to see you. Have a great time in 'Kirkwall'." She made no effort to hide the sarcasm. Hawke was no more honest than she.
Hawke grinned. "Home sweet home is where you make it, my dear."
The next few weeks passed peacefully but boringly. She carried the amulet with her at all times, trying to come up with a plan. Secretly she hoped that it would help bring out the voice in her again, but it never did. They likely needed the Dalish to help unlock it, if her suspicions of its contents were right, but she didn't know of any clans in the area and Leliana had answered the question with a negative. She'd yet to come up with a plausible reason to give Abelas why they needed to be somewhere else when he insisted Mythal's spirit was close, and even if there was one, she didn't want the elf to come with her.
Harding sent out regular patrols, with and without Mythal's protectors, sweeping the area and bringing back what information they could. The area was fairly deserted, but they managed to seal several openings to the Deep Roads and take care of a few bandits. The fighting was the only thing that settled her. She itched to move, to do something. She hated sitting and waiting for something to happen and realized how used she was to having the world bend itself to her will at a moment's notice. Poor little boss of the universe, she thought.
Except for her, the group seemed happy. With little risk of attack, and no reason to ride daily, people settled down. Hurel continued to join in their gatherings, and even made a friend of Sera. Inquisition and Fereldan military forces came through with news and provisions, and at times the camp felt more like a party than an expedition. And, to her quiet delight, Dorian and Iron Bull began spending more time together outside of their tents, and the sardonic edges in their smiles changed to something gentler.
One afternoon, after another routine report, Harding walked back to her tent with her. Evelyn looked down at her a little amused, as the usually chatty dwarf was twitchy and silent. Eventually she stopped them both, laughing. "Okay, you are the worst Wicked Grace player I've ever seen. What is going on?"
Harding jumped, then sagged her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm not really cut out for this life. Looking for secrets, yes. But I prefer when I can reveal them immediately." She looked around. "It's really important, though. Elen's group said they found the same old forest as usual, but that wasn't true. He's waiting for you, says it's your ears only. He wouldn't even tell me about it." She sniffed.
She thanked her and walked in to her tent. An elven man sat quietly, but stood and saluted when she entered. He had the look of the Emerald Graves. She recognized him as not only one of Harding's scouts, but one of Leliana's men as well. She smiled. "Elen, isn't it? What is it that you needed to tell me?"
He spoke in a lilting voice. "Inquisitor, my report. On our patrol, I ran across a small group of The People. Their leader, Adrel, knew of your presence in these woods and begged an audience with you. However, he requested a meeting with you alone, and that I tell only you about it."
She spoke slowly. "Surely he realized that I would never agree to it. Though I have great respect for the Dalish, I can't afford to walk into potential traps alone."
"Yes, Your Grace, I know. He would also come alone, and would submit to a search by me for weapons before I left you." He hesitated. "He exhorted me in the strongest terms, and swore on all gods that you would not be harmed. I believe him. It seemed he had been waiting for a scout group with a leader of The People to bring the request back to you to provide this understanding."
"It could also be that he judged you would be most willing to believe a lie."
"That is also true," he said. "Adrel gave me one thing to tell you, to convince you of his worth. The message is that you are the only shem - sorry, the only human he will ever call a friend."
Her blood ran cold. She looked for a lie in Elen's face and saw nothing, but of course that was meaningless. She was sure he had been given the message as he'd said. "Tell me, did Adrel have the face markings of your people?"
"Vallaslin? Of course, Your Grace," he replied with surprise. "It's how I knew him as brother."
She chewed on the inside of her lip. Her thumb traced the outline of her anchor and remembered fingers sparking with magic over it. She nodded sharply, once. "When would he like to meet?"
"Tomorrow night, if it pleases you. I will take you to the meeting place he chose."
She nodded in dismissal. He stood to leave. "Wait," she said. "I know that you're sworn to the Nightingale. Won't you have to report this to her?"
His face was blank. "I serve your cause, Inquisitor. If you ask it, I will. Otherwise, I will keep my silence, though it will cost. And if you are not kept safe, may Elgar'nan, god of vengeance, give me strength to answer for it." He left.
Clouds covered the sky as they slipped out of camp, a mixed blessing. Moonlight would have lit their way but made them easier to see. Elen walked sure-footedly through the murky woods, so she tried to match his steps as best she could. She wondered if she should be worried that it was so simple for her to walk through their perimeter unnoticed, even granted her knowledge of their patrols.
When they stepped into a clearing, Elen looked at her as if he expected she would know where they were. Desperate not to let her followers know how little directional sense she had, she looked around. She saw deep furrows on the ground, as if something heavy had been dragged across it. She took a guess. "Is this where they found the statue?" Elen nodded, then tensed as a figure moved out of the trees silently, like a ghost. She stared at the strange elf intently as he approached, but she saw no echo of Solas in his movements, no sign of his soul in his eyes. Hopes she hadn't voiced grew hard inside of her.
The two elves spoke together quickly in their own tongue, gesturing at her. Elan quickly checked Adrel for weapons, then saluted her. As he melted back into the forest, she felt fear for the first time. How long had it been since she'd truly been alone with a stranger? She still carried her daggers, but Adrel didn't seem to mind. His gaze never left her face. She realized that he hated her.
"Inquisitor and so-called friend to The People, I am glad you chose to meet," he said. His voice was rough and emotional, for a Dalish elf, and contained nothing of the serenity she associated with Solas. Her heart hardened still more.
"You know who I am?"
"Tales of you have swept through all corners of Thedas, even the small, rotten corners still held by us. The mark on your hand reveals you. And I was told by one who knows that you are a friend and shemlen, however hard that is to believe."
"Proud of me, is he?" she groused, startling a laugh out of him.
"Pride! Yes, indeed, that he has for you, but none for himself. More's the pity. That is all we will say of that matter." He gave her a look that brooked no dissent.
"If I'm not here to meet a friend, what is this meeting for?"
"Shem, so eager to move forward, never looking underneath their feet. It would be well of you to move carefully, Inquisitor, now that you are so large, lest you crush everything before you." He grimaced. "But I have been given a charge, and I will execute it. I am to deliver you help, in exchange for a favor. Fair trade."
"What help will you give?" Evelyn asked. "I don't doubt your sincerity, but I'm not aware of needing anything."
He laughed. "So you do not need a First of The People, versed in rituals? Perhaps one that could unlock an amulet of resting, given a holy place?" He gestured to the clearing around them and cocked his head.
Her hand flew to the amulet she wore around her neck, and his eyes mocked her. "Yes, Inquisitor, that's the one."
"And the favor you need?"
"The removal of the vallaslin from my face," he spat.
She blinked. "I don't know how to do that. Surely your own people are better able to help. Why do you even want it?"
"I was promised you would know," he said. His hands were talons at his side. "By the same one who told me you were in need. My people have no knowledge of their removal. It's never done. But in my dreams he showed me what they truly mean, and I no longer want it branding me."
She made no response, and he continued. "The marks are of slaves, to show which master owns you. I am no slave, to shem or elf, and I will not be made to be one. The bare-faced ones in the alienages are freer than I."
"I sympathize," she said, and she did, "but I don't know how to do it. I'm afraid I can't offer fair trade." The voice of the goddess rose inside her. The anchor sets many things straight, little one. It closes and opens much. She looked at Adrel again, so angry in front of her. Help the slave.
She raised her hand, and the anchor glowed with its constant power. She held it to his face and felt it shift its form under her skin. The anchor always felt hungry, ready to tear and rip, but now it softened into something sweeter. The energy jolted her with a wave of pleasure, and she gasped and closed her eyes. Adrel's face stayed in front of her, but changed to Cullen's as she traced her hand over it, erasing the marks where she caressed him. His eyes were dark with desire, and he mouthed her name. She bit back a moan and forced herself to break the connection. The face vanished, and she stepped back, relieved.
Adrel stared at her. He hadn't moved, though his face was smooth. "It's done," she said hoarsely. Fatigue hit her, and she fought the urge to sit.
He touched his face but obviously felt no difference. "How do I know?" he demanded. "Open your eyes!" She did as he asked, and he stepped towards her. The moon came out from the clouds, shining down into the clearing. He studied his reflection in her eyes and gave a hard smile.
He held his hand out to her. "Fair trade, shemlen. I will not take a gift from your kind."
She handed over the amulet. He stalked to the place where the mirror must have stood and threw it to the ground. He passed his hands over it once, twice, three times and muttered elven words. He backed away as the amulet snapped and a figure rose out of the ground. As soon as she'd stopped rising, he turned back to Evelyn. "A favor for a favor. Goodbye, Inquisitor. Tell your shadow it is too bright."
She gave him a confused look, but he was already leaving. She turned back to the woman standing in front of her. Flemeth gave her a piercing stare and smiled, not unkindly. "Well, well. You're not what I expected. Hello again, Herald."