Jacquelyn lay on the stretcher, Siara watching over her with Mother Giselle. The Herald had been almost unconscious when they reached her, somehow having managed to find the strength to try to continue on despite Siara ordering her otherwise. Once they'd gotten back to the camp, Jacquelyn had been looked over quite thoroughly, many people wandering over to check on their hero.
Siara had taken a back seat, though the sister had hurried over to check on her, much to the Blade's disgust. Nonetheless, Siara sat there quietly, not moving an inch as the sister looked her over and ran her tests before doing her best to set to healing as many of Siara's injuries as she could find. Siara did nothing to help the woman find more of her injuries, simply sitting there and doing as ordered. The health potion had done wonders for her lungs, and she was no longer coughing up blood.
"Your actions were reckless," the sister scolded, Siara hardly paying attention, watching the group of advisers bicker nearby, "but, I must admit, you were very brave. And you probably saved the Herald. I think we all owe you for that."
"I don't want anything," the elf muttered. The sister glanced away from her work, looking Siara in the eyes. It took a moment for Siara to meet her eyes, her own void of any emotion. The sister's brows creased together.
"You're a mercenary, aren't you? Isn't everything you do because you want something?"
"Unfortunately for me, if the Herald dies, then the world gets destroyed. And unfortunately for me, I still live in this world. So what would be the point of wanting something for escorting her to the Inquisition? And besides," Siara looked away, watching as the war council's bickering started to escalate, "I'm safer if I'm with you lot. For now, at least. While Corypheus is unaware of where we all are."
"So this is still for yourself."
"Who even knows anymore," she shook her head, watching as the council's bickering continued.
"Well what would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!" Cullen was objecting.
"We cannot simply ignore this! we must find a way!"
"And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!"
"Oh for… Enough already!" Siara interrupted, pushing away from the sister and crossing over to them. "You lot have been at this for who knows how long and it's getting really tedious. None of you are willing to listen to anyone else, and frankly it's driving me nuts. Not to mention that none of you are doing anything to install any confidence in any of your followers. You lot are the ones leading this Inquisition. Act like it!"
They all turned to face her, a mixture of shock and anger across their faces.
"Do you have anything to add? We're trying our best here!" Cullen snapped at her.
"Trying your best to do what? Deafen us all?" she shook her head. "Look, you all need to take a step back and actually look at the situation we're in. Sure. Haven is lost. We don't fully know where we are. But we still have supplies for the moment. And once this storm passes, we'll have a better idea of where we are. The main thing to do at the moment is to not help Corypheus out by chewing each other's heads off!"
The council looked a bit sheepish, shifting uncomfortably under Siara's gaze. She stood there watching them for a moment, catching the movement of Cullen's eyes and looking around as Jacquelyn got up from the stretcher and limped over to them, holding her arm carefully.
"As much as I hate to admit it, Siara's right," she said. "We still have people depending on us. We must stay hopeful. We will get through this."
She smiled at Siara, who simply nodded back before stepping away. Jacquelyn could take over. What needed to be said had been said. She was vanishing towards the outskirts of the camp when the singing began. A small scowl slipped onto her face.
"You cannot make me sing. I refuse," she could almost hear her brother's teasing voice mocking her.
"Aw, but you have such a beautiful voice!"
"Yeah… as beautiful as a cat yodeling…" she muttered beneath her breath, speaking so no one would hear her. It was in that moment that the loneliness hit her again. Jacen was gone. There was no point in talking to him.
The days passed, slowly, and the Herald continued to lead them onwards. They headed in a northward direction, Jacquelyn occasionally vanishing for a bit when they all stopped to rest. When she wasn't doing that and they were all stopped for a night, she would have quiet conversations with her war council. Siara just watched on from a distance, simultaneously a part of the group, and yet more of an outsider than ever. Sometimes she could hear hushed whisperings from those around her, along with spotting some sideways glances in her direction.
Part of her wondered what they were whispering about, another part of her simply wishing that people would stop treating her like some hero. She wasn't a hero. She didn't want to be one. She just felt a duty to continue what her sister had started. Eventually she got sick of it, approaching the war council one night when they were resting.
"Tomorrow I will head off earlier, check what is ahead," Jacquelyn was saying. "We cannot be that far from where Solas was talking about."
"Solas was talking about what now?" Siara asked, standing just at the edge of the warmth radius from the fire. Jacquelyn turned from her seat next to it, her eyes shimmering in the light cast from the flames.
"This does not concern you, Siara," she said, relatively gently.
"Like hell it doesn't. My immediate future is in your hands just as much as anyone else's at the moment. So what is Solas on about at the moment?" Jacquelyn sighed in annoyance, well too aware that she couldn't say anything to make Siara go away unless she actually told her what was going on.
"Solas says that there is somewhere that we could make our base," she explained. "Somewhere perfect for our needs. However, he only told us that it was somewhere to the North."
"That's why you've been going off by yourself so often."
"Exactly."
"Sounds like fun," Siara shrugged. "I'll scout tomorrow, you keep an eye on everyone here. If you don't trust me, I'll take someone else along. Like Solas."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sick of people talking about me where I know what they're doing. So, before I cut someone's head off, let me do something useful."
Jacquelyn almost scoffed, looking around at her council members incredulously before looking back to Siara.
"Who gives the orders around here?" she asked, evidently offended.
"Good question. The Inquisition still doesn't technically have a leader. However, you're the Herald. You have the only thing that can actually save us for damn near certain doom. No point in risking you to scouting duty. I have experience in this sort of terrain, as well as experience scouting, and I'm getting antsy. So, I feel that it would be in both our interests to send me scouting. Sound right?"
"It would probably be wise to get her away from the refugees if they're starting to get on her nerves," Cullen provided, speaking hesitantly, thoughtfully. Cassandra looked disapproving and grim.
"I agree," she said. "The Blade has been known to act without thought."
"Aw, Seeker, you break my heart, listening to those rumours."
"They aren't rumours," Cassandra scowled. "They came from Varric's stories."
"Hm, I'm guess written from a perspective of my dearest, most darlingest recently departed brother?" Cassandra didn't reply. "Thought so. Bloody Jacen, still giving me a bad rep from the grave…"
She could almost hear a chipper reply from him.
"Well, gotta have my fun somehow."
"It could help with morale if you could spend more time with the refugees," Josephine said, pondering the situation. "So maybe we should let her go?"
Jacquelyn sighed, looking to Leliana.
"I suppose you also have a thought to add to this matter?"
Leliana shook her head.
"Everything that needs to be said has been said."
"All right, then I suppose since so many are in favour of it, Siara, you may go scouting in my stead. But take Solas with you. Despite what you did for me back with Corypheus, I would still trust you more if you had someone keeping an eye on you."
"And you trust an apostate more than you trust me? Wow, that hurts, Herald. Don't worry. I won't get us into trouble," she smiled a slightly nasty smile, then turned and vanished among the tents. Cullen sighed.
"Every time I think that I'm starting to understand that woman, something changes and I'm back to square one."
"She doesn't like to be understood," Leliana told him. "She has had so many people leave her, she's afraid that if she's understandable, more people will leave her."
"I suppose that would make sense," Jacquelyn grudgingly agreed, "but it also makes her less trustworthy."
"Which is also part of what she wants. You can trust her to get the job done. She doesn't want to be your friend."
"Doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live," Josephine said, rather sympathetically. "I can't imagine what it's like for her."
"It's her choice," Cassandra sounded like she couldn't care less, "and we have bigger issues to deal with."
"Indeed," Jacquelyn agreed, more than happy to get off the subject of Siara. "Such as our supplies of lyrium are beginning to run low. Cullen, how goes the redistribution?" She asked, settling down to listen to what could be a great many reports over the course of the night.
Siara and Solas set off at first light, Solas not entirely certain why he was being chosen to babysit the mercenary. Over the course of the night, more snow had fallen, adding a fresh coat to the stuff that had settled before. Jacquelyn watched them leave, frowning slightly. She really wasn't sure how she felt about Siara, whether she trusted her or not. She wasn't that much more sure about Solas, though in his favour, he did tell her that the orb was of elven origin. That at least said something for him, right? She shook her head. There wasn't much point in worrying about it just now.
The first thing to worry about was getting everyone safely to the place Solas had mentioned. She stepped back into her tent, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to stop herself from shivering. There were three other people in the tent with her, all women, all of whom didn't have a partner or family. And all of whom kept trying to ask her about the mark. Given that, Jacquelyn supposed she could understand where Siara was coming from. The questions were endless. These women had even asked Jacquelyn about what Siara was up to, why she was helping them, why Jacquelyn was seeming so insecure about her. Jacquelyn hid a scowl.
She wasn't feeling insecure about Siara. Why would she? Siara was an outsider, of her own make. What was there to be insecure about? She quickly went about donning her armour, trying to be careful not to wake the sleeping women before stepping outside. The air was crisp, hurting slightly as it entered her lungs. There were some people already milling about the camp, relighting fires from the night before. It would help a little, and they needed to prepare their breakfasts somehow. Not that they were allowed to eat much. Jacquelyn wasn't sure how much longer they'd be traipsing around the mountains to find this place, and after that she wasn't sure how long they'd be there before they would start receiving supplies again.
She walked through the camp, heading for the medical tents. The sisters were already awake, checking on the sick and injured.
"How are they all?" she enquired, Mother Giselle walking over to her.
"There has been little improvement," she said. "What they really need is rest."
"Unfortunately that is not a choice at this point in time."
"We are aware," Giselle looked around at the patients, some of them stirring in their sleep. "In many cases, the altitude isn't helping."
"This is the direction that Solas sent us in," Jacquelyn shook her head. "I know of no one else who knows this area. Unfortunately, we must trust him." Giselle bowed her head in acknowledgement.
"Of course. If you'll excuse me, I must get back to my patients."
Jacquelyn nodded, watching as Giselle returned to her work for a moment before she, too, walked off to attend to her duties. She needed to check that the animals were still capable of carrying all the supplies.
"So, since you know about this place, how far away is it?" Siara asked, darting up another rockier patch, careful not to slip. Solas walked at a more sedate pace, but was reasonably easily keeping pace with the young woman.
"It's hard to say for certain," he told her. "It could be a few days yet. This area has changed since I found out about it."
Siara looked over her shoulder around at him, pausing in her climbing.
"So have you actually been here before?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He held her gaze, stopping not that far away from her.
"That would depend."
"Depend on what?"
"Do you count discovering the knowledge of it in memories of the Fade as being there?"
"So you know about it from spirits?"
"You could say that."
"Well, that's an answer," Siara sighed and resumed her climb up the hill. "Definitely an answer."
"Not the answer you were hoping for?"
"I'd say no, but I'm not actually sure what answer I was hoping for."
Solas watched her contemplatively.
"You're still struggling with the knowledge of your sister." He said, a harsh laugh escaping Siara.
"I wonder what gave you that impression," She scoffed, "Not that it really matters. Doesn't really change anything. She's still dead."
"I could look for her, if you like. In the Fade."
"You wouldn't find her."
"Oh?" Siara shook her head.
"One of the bits of information that the Grey Wardens dislike getting out," she explained. "I only know about it because Jacen and I were briefly helping some of them out. Not to mention that Jacen was dating one for a while. They didn't exactly like how the Wardens operated. Gave out more information about them than they would have liked. Got us more information that we stowed away from a later date. Never know what info might come in handy."
"So what information is it that leads you to believe that your sister's soul would not be in the Fade?" he asked.
"There's a reason it has to be a Warden killing an arch demon," she muttered. "The soul goes into the nearest tainted body. This destroys both the arch demon's soul, and the Warden's," she glanced back at Solas as they headed on up the mountain. "Even if you went back to where Mara died, you wouldn't find her. Not certain you'd even find her memory."
Solas frowned.
"You've gone through a lot, despite your young age."
"I'm not that young, Solas. I'm just not old, either. And these days, everyone has gone through a lot. I'm nothing special. You just have to look at the Haven refugees to know that."
The conversation might have continued, but at that moment they reached the top of the mountain, giving them one of the most amazing views Siara had ever seen. For a moment she just stood there, looking out over the snowy terrain, her eyes slightly wide. Solas stopped next to her, resting his hands on his staff.
"I'm guessing that's…?"
"Skyhold," he confirmed. "Our new refuge."