"You are both welcome to come along if you like." I said brightly, gesturing to the exit with a flourish. They exchanged looks, Varric's face spreading into a grin. He turned back to me and gave a lighthearted shrug,
"We're probably all going to die anyway, may as well go out with a bang, as you say."
I winked at him and crossed the threshold of the cell, not waiting for Solas' response but something told me he would follow. True enough I heard him sigh in exasperation as I searched for my belongings.
I hadn't brought much with me on this trip, I didn't have much to start with, only my armour, my bow and my mother's silverite ring. It was still perched on my finger, and I still was clad in my armour save for my cloak and hood and my bow was missing too. Before anything, I wanted to find my bow. It was like a third arm, an ever present companion. I'd had it since I was 13 and after 12 years of use, it had become moulded to my grip, I knew no other bow would replace it, although the design was simple enough (no fancy curls in the wood) it did have a pack of wolfs carved up its length, a reminder that wolves hunt best in packs... A strange thing to recall fondly now... I had no pack. But still it was made by my clan's weapon smith and it was blessed with Andruils guidance, it was not something I would lightly leave behind. Eventually, I came across a chess that contained a rather remarkable cross bow.
"Bianca! Baby!" Varric cried as he hugged the contraption, "It's okay now, Varric's here." He whispered soothingly. I couldn't hide my laugh at the strange display of affection for a piece of equipment.
"You named your cross bow Bianca?" I said with an arched brow. The dwarf simply smiled as he stroked the varnished wood of his weapon.
"Bianca and I have been through a lot together." He said simply, patting her gently before strapping her securely to his back.
Solas himself found a tattered green rucksack and a plain looking staff and gave a soft smile as he ran his hand up the simple rod. His meagre belongings only further doubted the circle mage idea. Everything about him was plain, simple, unremarkable... Too unremarkable. There was something about him that made me wary. I couldn't place it, but I had good instincts and they had yet to lead me astray so I decided I would keep my distance.
I found my cloak in a chest, and fashioned it around my neck, pulling up the hood in hopes of hiding myself. But the bow was yet unfound and I began to get antsy. Three more chests were ransacked and still there was nothing. I missed a curse under my breath and let my eyes scan the room one final time, until they caught sight of something resting in the fire pit. An obscure piece of kindling, long, smoother than the rest... With the carving of a wolf pack in its charred wood. My stomach sank and I let out an audible whine as I strode towards it. With the poker I chased the other charred bits of wood away and revealed my burned and broken bow, ruined... Gone. I covered my mouth to hide the sob that escaped my lips but it did little else other than muffle it. My beautiful bow was snapped it half, tossed aside and burned like a common piece of wood. The only thing that tied me to my clan. The only thing that actually made me feel part of something. But now it was gone and I again felt so utterly alone that I wouldn't have cared to bits if I broke down in tears then and there in front of two strangers. But the world was ending and bow or no, I had to help. I'd find another lying around the place, my practical side said, it was simply and inanimate object and crying over it when people were dying was childish and foolish. I stood up and clenched my jaw tightly, willing the well of tears in my eyes not to fall. Swallowing, I spotted a shemlen looking bow hanging on the wall and I took it with a wince. It was heavy, clumsily made and warped and it was not mine. I subsided the wave of tears that again welled up in my eyes and turned again to face my companions. They both looked quite shocked and sympathetic at the same time, Varric especially. Solas then straightened up and held his chin high, a look of annoyance filtering its way across his features. I scowled at him then, a biting remark resting on my tongue. But for whatever reason, he held contempt for my people and I would not give him the satisfaction of angering me.
"Shall we?" I said simply, strapping a quiver of arrows to my back along with my clunky bow. Varric nodded with a kind smile as we departed, Solas stayed silent.
Sneaking out of the Prison was not easy, but in keeping to the shadows and climbing out a window or two, I found myself digging my feet into crisp white snow around the side of the cold stone building of the chantry. The village of Haven buzzed with panic and fear. You could see it in the eyes of soldiers and villagers alike, and who could rightly blame them? There was a bloody hole in the sky! It would take one hell of a seamstress to get that back together. So with a small signal, and fixing my hood on my head, the three of us tiptoed silently as snowfall into the bustling village. People either noticed and didn't care or were too preoccupied with saving what little they to see us escape.
"So now what, Trixy?" Varric asked as he fell in step beside me. I looked down to him, trying to convey my bewilderment, because truthfully I didn't know. Truthfully no one had ever asked me that before, I was just told what to do most of my life. But I knew what I wanted to do, I needed to help, anyway I could.
"We do what we can." I said firmly, quickening my pace. It wasn't long before we past a few tents, and narrowly avoided being caught by four cantering guards. But we got past, and I couldn't help feeling smug.
"Jusqu'ici tout va bien, eh?" I whispered cheekily, as we passed the red headed hooded Orlesian woman, unntoiced.
Varric chuckled, "A Dalish elf speaking Orlesian? The world is really ending."
As we rounded another corner and went down a flight of steps, I smirked. "Oh I'm very well versed in Orlesian, mon amis."
He chuckled even more when I said that, though it was coupled with a strange look of disbelief.
Yes its quits odd for a Dalish elf to be spouting Orlesian sayings as much as it spouts elven ones but, in truth, I hadn't always been Dalish. Gasp! I'm not a true elf, some might say. Just because I was born in an alienage in Monsimmard does not make me any less elfish than any other pointy earred Dalish. That's who I am. The Orlesian Dalish, the mongrel, the one who was found quivering in the wreckage of a slavery caravan.
My mother and I had been caught at night when we were coming back from the market, no guards came to our aid, no one even bothered to look out their windows as my mother screamed in rage and fear as we were shackled. I remember feeling the same searing anger that her screams conveyed and I kicked and clawed as much as my impish little body could manage, I was only eleven at the time, after all. But still, our protests did little and we were tied up and gagged in a rusted iron cage. They took us from our town and kept to quiet out of the way roads, me and my mother suffered two winter nights in that freezing prison, we were not so far north as to escape winters chill. One night however, when the slavers stopped to make camp, they hauled my mother away, dragged her to a tent and... I never saw her again. For most of my childhood I had wondered what happened to her, why they had simply taken her and made her vanish. The older I got, the more I figured out.
The morning after, I was so tired from crying after my mother, that I slept through most of the day, only awakening to the crackling of flames and faint whispers. It was night then, clear and crisp but I wasn't shivering, hadn't the energy to, I was numb. I wondered where my mother went, what these men wanted with us, when were we going home and who was talking? My final question was soon answered when Mahanon, the Dalish hunter who took me in as his daughter laid his eyes on me. I remember at first being scared, going only on the tales of the savage Dalish told by humans. But he hushed me and gave me a warm blanket and he was kind. And that's how I became Dalish, best shot, loudest mouth, and third of Clan Lavellan. I hadn't even realised that we were close to the valley by the time I stopped reminiscing, only when I saw the sickly green glow of the fade did I halt. Around me the snow had almost melted away from the many scuffling feet scrambling desperately against the demons. Demons which now spewed from a smaller but none the less, terrifying rift. I instinctively took a step back and readied my bow, ignoring the painful awareness of the fact that it wasn't my bow.
"Suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea anymore." I heard Varric say beside me, his voice low with worry.
"We must fall back, we have no way of sealing the tear." Solas said, hooking a hand in the crook of my elbow and trying to coax me back. I couldn't take my eyes off the rift. It's green light warping the mountains behind it, spewing demons that cut down the soldiers without so much as a breath. It was carnage. And I would not run.
I spun viciously on the elder elf, fire in my eyes and soul ready to run him through with scornful words. But I stopped, because there was a look in his eyes that I could not quite place. A look that spoke of knowledge and wariness but not fear. This man, this Solas, was not a coward. He simply knew when to pick his battles.
"We can't just let those men be killed. We have to try." I said, reiterating again my efforts. I had to do something. I had to. He looked at me then, ice blue eyes softening as they fell on my face and a look of understanding came about him. He shifted his weight from one foot to another before finally letting go of my arm and nodding.
"Then let us not be rash. Do not engage the demons directly, I'm assuming you've never fought them before?" He asked and I shook my head, no.
"Then try to keep out of their way, their claws are sharp and deadly and it will not take a second swipe to finish you." His words sent a shiver down my spine and fear bubbled up my throat as we turned to face down the tear. Varric muttered a sarcastic remark, something about Solas' oh so cheery advice but it floated right over me. All I could focus on was my breathing and the sharp jagged movements of the demons. Instincts kicked in and before I know it, the feather of an arrow tickled my face and I was looking for the demon's weak spot. Everything seemed slow, Varric's bolts flew out in a slow blur, Solas' ice spells almost floated past me it seemed, but I had my target and I held my breath as I let my first arrow fly.
With a muted thud and a vehement shriek from the demon I knew it had hit the right spot. As it melted away into the tear, I fired another arrow, and another in quick succession, taking out another demon. Then there was a warning shout to my left, and there floated a green wisp. In a strange panicked instinct I flung out my hand and the green shape was engulfed in fire, it too melting away back into the fade.
"It is rare to see a Dalish acquainted with both magic and archery." Solas called as he slammed his staff into the ground. "Usually your people will set a mage on a path from which they cannot venture." He called again, even out of breath as he was I could hear the bitterness laced in his words and my anger flared, causing a violent barrage of flame to erupt in front of me and practically dissolve another demon.
"Even when we're arse deep in demons you insist in insulting me!" I called, my clunky human bow finding a use in whacking demons in the face. He then frowned, though there was definitely amusement there too.
"I did not insult you! I simply made a passing remark about your people, one which I've seen to be true."
"And what would you know about my people?" I shouted angrily now, two more arrows finding their marks in the demons that were a few feet behind him.
"Enough to make a judgement, and know, dalen I do not make them without the experience to justify it." He said, his eyes stern and his voice sharp, his skill with magic... Quite frightening.
"Then you're judging an entire race by a handful of people! Don't dare think to lecture me about my own culture!" I cried, smacking two demons, firing am arrow at another and sending three more up in smoke. I could see him opening his mouth to retort but suddenly he stopped and pushed his way past me. I heard him shout,
"Quickly, before more come through!" And then I turned to see the prisoner, left hand outstretched with the same green glow of the fade erupting from her palm and... Closing the rift? I stood back in awe as the air around us crackled with an echoing boom as the rift sealed itself shut. I looked around at the somewhat more peaceful scene, injured soldiers scurried back to Haven and I was half inclined to join them, but Varric stayed and I was all too curious about the mysterious shemlen woman who managed to perform a bloody miracle right in front of my eyes. She was very pretty now that she was up and awake. Fair skin slightly blushed, chestnut hair falling from her loose bun over her soft round face. Her big green eyes round and inquisitive and her lips tilted in a frown.
"What did you do?" She asked Solas, her voice low and soft and slightly delicate.
"I did nothing, the credit is yours." He replied, the arrogance practically oozing off him and I rolled my eyes. That's when I noticed the Seekers seething glare on me and I smiled weakly.
"You mean this?" said the prisoner looking distastefully at the mark that now marred her hand. Solas shifted his weight again but it was slower this time, more cocky than thoughtful.
"I theorised that the mark may be able to speak the breach and it seems I was correct."At this I outright scoffed and he shot me a glare, I however, matched it easily and waved a flippant hand.
"Oh yes, we all get it, you're wonderfully intelligent and we could never have done it without you. There, now instead of theorising and gloating and getting off to your own marvellous intelligence, how about we actually try and shut the big one up in the sky, I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice." I said, turning to our human friend and she laughed slightly. A nice, lighthearted laugh, so unfitting with the situation. Solas, however did not see the funny side and simply ignored me, which I noticed he was very inclined to do.
"As tactless as her remark is, I must agree, the Breach is growing larger each passing second, but your mark may hold the key to sealing it shut." He said, more tactfully.
The prisoner seemed more than a little dumfounded, her brow rising with each of his words and I could tell that she was uncomfortable. There was something modest and humble about her, she grew on me even more.
"Good to know, and here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever. Varric Tethras: rogue; storyteller and occasionally; unwelcome tag along." Said the charming dwarf to my left. The prisoner relaxed in his presence, visibly. That was a quality Varric seemed to possess and I wasn't sure whether it made him more charming or someone of whom I should be wary. I'd learned not to relax around strangers, this whole tear in the sky shenanigans made me forget that, but as my eyes scanned the people I was with, I slowly felt my shoulders tense. Varric, the too charming and strangely mysterious dwarf. Cassandra the seeker, one step away from having me executed for mythal knows what. The prisoner, strange and unknown as she was, may be responsible for this whole chaos. And Solas, insulting, enigmatic Solas who looked at me like I was a child, ignorant and stupid. However, these people, strangers as they were, they did not threaten me. I knew that they would not turn on me, they had no need to, because if anything brings people together, its the end of the world. It was then I noticed her eyes on me, green and curious. I smiled at her and stuck out my hand.
"Nevalla Lavellan. I was blamed for this whole thing until you showed up. Drugged and locked in a cell and everything! Isn't that right Seeker?" I said sweetly and Cassandra rolled her eyes.
"We had every right to believe you were responsible, you refused to come quietly." She said, her voice tinged with steel.
"And you have still yet to apologise for the drugging and the locking." I snapped.
"I will not apologise for neutralising a threat, you attempted to fire on our soldiers." She said, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a menacing step forward. I felt heat rise in my chest.
"Sorry if I'm not inclined to let myself be locked up by a bunch of humans. I found that humans tend to be a tad murderous towards their elven prisoners." I said, folding my arms in defiance.
"Again you bring your race into matters which it doesn't concern." Solas' voice chimed mockingly. I spun on him, a stray spark of lightning resonating around me as my anger reached its peak.
"I'm this close to wedging this bow so far up your arse you won't be able to sit down without-"
"Easy there, Trixy, he's just provoking you, don't bite." Varric cut off my colourful tirade with a hand on my arm. I shrugged it off and stalked off to the side as the rest of them discussed their plans. Solas introduced himself, they bickered about whether or not Varric should come with them and then they set off down the path further into the Valley. Solas, Cassandra and Vardic were already nearly around the corner of rock, but the prisoner hesitated. She turned back to face me, eyes heavy with empathy and then she strode forward, offering a hand shake.
"Evelyn Trevelyan. It's nice to know I'm not the only one that people blame for this." She said, a soft, reassuring smile on her face. I took her hand quite warily, unsure at this display of kindness. But I nodded and her smile widened before she nodded in the direction of the Valley and followed the rest of them. I took at as suggestion that I go too, and I wasn't all that keen on fighting all the way back to heaven without any back up, so I followed her, ignoring the two sets of eyes that looked disapprovingly at me as I hopped over the broken fence into the Valley. Varric smiled though, for that I was thankful.