By the time Solas and I quietly made our way into the Tavern in Redcliff's main square, the herald was already talking with Alexius. Her face was straight and impassable as she conversed with him, a quality I'm sure she picked up from Leliana. Perhaps the girl was learning yet. We made our way towards Cassandra, Varric and Sera, the two former looking more grave than the latter who really just looked as though she could use a drink. I wouldnt mind joining her, but this meeting was paramount for getting the Mages' aid instead of the blasted Templars.

"They have pledged themselves to a magister." Cassandra said lowly as we approached, her words utterly dripping with distain. Solas frowned and looked down at me, a 'why the hell didn't you tell me' kind of look. I shrugged meekly and turned back to the seeker.

"Out of fear rather than choice, I suspect." I whispered and she turned on me about to argue when Suddenly I saw a familiar face.

"Felix bring me my scribe." Alexius said over the din of the tavern. In a moment, Felix was walking towards him, his eyes meeting mine, and I winked at him. His lip almost quirked in a smile but he suddenly began to shuffle forward, looking very dazed until it would seem that all his strength gave out by the time he made it to the Herald's side. She caught him of course, and it would take very sharp eyes to see the note he passed her. I smiled then, the plan seemingly coming together. Alexius made a fuss then, muttering about mixing powders and Felix getting rest.

"I don't mean to trouble everyone." he said apologetically, but I didn't miss the wink he threw me on his way out the door.
Trevelyan read the letter carefully and her brow furrowed.
"Come to the chantry, you're in danger." She read it warily, as warily as she should be it was quite the ominous note and I'm positive it was Dorian who wrote it. He did seem to have a flare for dramatics.

"Sounds like a trap." Varric said with a shrug.

"Yep, definitely a trap." Sera reiterated. Trevelyan looked the letter over again before looking to Cassandra. The seeker had become quite the idol to the girl and my lips quirked up at that.

"Is this a trap?" I heard Solas's low voice beside me and I looked up and almost startled because he was closer than I remembered.

"Of course it's not a trap." I whispered with a smirk, "It's Dorian."

His expression somewhat shifted then, "You seem quite taken with this Dorian."

I scoffed at his outlandish remark. Maybe I was taken with charming Dorian, maybe I wasn't.

"Hmm and if I was? You wouldn't be jealous would you, old man?" I teased him expecting an indignant retort to my blatant flirtation. However, he said nothing, only let his eyes roam up and down my body before following the rest of them out the door. I did too before I had the chance to melt in a puddle right there in the tavern. That was most definitely new. And strange. Perhaps the healing magic went to his head...

I caught up to them easily enough as we made our way to the Chantry, glad and just ever so smug that my plan had come together. As we neared the small stone building, however, I felt the pull of the fade and from his look, Solas did too. If that wasn't incentive enough to get a move on the Herald's mark sparked as it always did when we approached a rift. I felt fear rise in my gut then, fear for Dorian. What if he had been fighting those demons for days, what if... what if they'd killed him and I would no longer get to know that charming man. We did pick up our pace then, the Herald stormed through the Chantry doors and there it was, opened and spewing demons but there was also Dorian. I couldn't help the sigh of relief when he turned around with a cheeky smile and said,

"Ah, there you are, now help me close this thing would you?"

We did just that, and in all honesty it was quite a joy to actually fight beside Dorian. He was deadly with his staff, utterly trained and precise and powerful. I suppose they have better circles in Tevinter. In comparison to me, that was. I would forever be hopeless with magic. When the rift was sealed, Dorian turned with a curious look in his eye.

"Fascinating. How does that work, exactly." He said, his voice seeming a little awed. When Trevelyan could only shrug he chuckled, "You don't even know do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom." The Herald smiled at that, an easy smile and I was glad. Dorian was a mage and yet here she was bantering with him. Maybe I'd managed to change her mind on the whole mage matter.

A few moments later, after Dorian had been introduced to everyone and a plan was set in motion, we were making our way back to Haven. Not before stopping, however to talk to the boy named Conor. Frightfully skittish, he was, like he was just waiting for the sky to collapse around him. I suppose in a way it had. He hadn't seen the best that magic had to offer, everyone, even the Dalish had heard the tales of the blight and the hero of Ferelden and the Battle for Redcliff. I'd heard tales of a possessed boy who nearly destroyed an entire village. For our clan he was a cautionary tale, one Deshanna liked to remind me of constantly. But his words shook me. They felt twisted and hateful in my gut.

"We are monsters." he had said, his words drenched in fear. In ignorance, that other part of me hissed bitterly. I tried to stop thinking about it. Tried to stop thinking that there were other mages out there who hated what they were. I couldn't imagine that amount of self loathing, that feeling of being genuinely frightened of what you were. I couldn't understand, probably never would either. But the notion sat with me the whole journey back, even if I watched Dorian, the most self confident bordering on arrogant mage I'd met, fling his spells around like he hadn't a care in the world... Somewhere, some mage probably would rather die than have magic. And that... that was just wrong.

When we returned to Haven, the Herald and Cassandra rushed off to the war room, followed by Leliana. Not before she gave me a slight nod of cohorts. I returned it and smirked, I hoped painfully that Trevelyan would choose the mages. They desperately needed our help.

"I did not know your friend was Tevene." his voice startled me from where I stood, at the stables. I was hanging up my saddle and Solas had come to do the same.

"And so what if he is, it doesn't make him a bad person." I retorted. He gave me that look then. That look I'd come to know as the 'I'm about to bestow an unwanted lecture upon you' look. I rolled my eyes before he could even start.

"His countrymen reduce your people to mindless slaves. You would pardon him for claiming ownership of your kind?" He snapped and there was a harshness in his voice. An anger at the mere mention of slavery. I understood though, I knew that anger. All my life, for as long as I can remember slavery has disgusted me. I fear it, perhaps more than anything in the world. Knowing that you are property and not a person, that your value is made up of coins and not character. That you are nothing but a tool to be kept like some pet. I shivered at a strange flash of quivering hands and silver plates and a powerful disapproving glare. But i shook it off and met Solas with an even glance.

"You presume to think that Dorian even agrees with his kin. As far as I can judge, he is so untevinter I wouldn't be surprised if they had actually kicked him out." I said lightly he didn't seem to find it funny.
All he said was, "Be careful." Before stalking off again to his shack. I scoffed at his behaviour because I was rightly sick of his mood swings. There was little I could do about it now, anyhow. All I could do was wait on The Herald to finish talking and hopefully join her back at Redcliff. I couldn't just sit around Haven for Gods know how long, so I decided to run a fee errands. First and foremost, I needed a new bow, badly. This clunky, broken thing would only last a short while longer and even if it did, it was so warped it hardly ever met it's target. Only thing was, I'd have to go sheepishly back to the blacksmith and commission it. I did, or at least I tried, but I was only met with a stream of curses and a two fingered salute that I shot right back at him.

"Fucking Shemlen prick!" I called back at him, storming off only stopping when I heard a low throaty laugh from near by. When I turned to look I saw a man, dark hair and a dark beard laughing at me. I shot him a look and he had the decency to stop and simply smirk.

"I'm glad I am such a figure of fun." I said smartly, making my way over go him. He was quite old, now that I got closer, his almost black beard streaking with grey.

"I do apologise my lady, was just quite a spectacle is all. Never seen a dalish trade so many insults in one breath before." He said, but there was a sincerity in his voice. A truthfulness.

"I've had a lot of practise, believe me." I sighed tiredly leaning against the stone wall.

"I don't doubt it, girl. The name's Blackwall, by the way. Heard you were wanted a new bow." he said, peaking my interest.

"I was yes, only seems that ignorant bastard is too stupid to make money." I said, glaring at Harrit for all I was worth. Blackwall laughed again.

"Well, I make no claims to be a weaponsmith, but I'm quite a hand at carpentry. You get me the right things and I'll make you a bow, girl, how's that sound." he said kindly. I was quite bewildered by his offer, in fact I was speechless for a moment until my wits found me again.

"What's the catch?"

He laughed again, "No catch. Just don't like to see people bullied for what they are. And you look like you deserve a fine bow, a little huntress like you." he said with a fond smile. It was a strange smile, not alike to that of Varric's which was cunning or like Solas' which was always strange and enigmatic. No, Blackwall's smile was kind and honest. There was nothing hidden behind, it. It was genuine and it reminded me of Mahanon. I could only return it with a quick and thankful nod.

"Now, you tell me where I can get the best wood and I'll get started, may as well find something to keep the hands busy, I've been left behind here ever since I arrived." He chuckled lightly but there was a slight resentment in his tone of that fact. I wondered why. He was tall and broad and i could tell, he was most likely a good warrior.

"The Herald has her favourites noone can deny that. Perhaps you could speak to the commander about helping with the recruits. You look like you're fairly capable." I said, hopping up onto the stone wall behind me. He smiled again and shrugged modestly.

"The commander is a... good man." He said forcefully and I could feel a growing smirk. I didnt care if it was wrong, but I was so glad that he clearly shared my dislike for the Commander Cullen.

"I fear he does not trust me, however. Or my order. He seemed to take a strange dislike to me." He didn't seem very offended when he said this. Almost as if he was used to it.

"Your order?" I asked.

"The wardens." He answered simply and I couldn't help feel a little in awe of him. I'd never met a grey warden, but I'd heard the tales. How they didn't see lord or servant, elf or human. You were a sworn protector of the land and nothing more. In war, sacrifice and all that. For a moment I could only stand dumbly as he shifted awkwardly. I would never have pinned him for a warden, but I suppose they took in all sorts.

"So, about your bow."