"Put those supplies over there," Jacquelyn ordered, "and set up some tents around there until we can get the inside of the buildings properly set up to take inhabitants."
The men nodded, going off to do as she had ordered. A sigh escaped her in the half a second of calm that fell on the room she had temporarily claimed as a sort of office. It was as good a place as any to try and organise people from. This wasn't an easy task. The war council were talking about something when they weren't helping her with organising everyone, and she was starting to get a little annoyed about it. They could at least help organise their own people, this wasn't her job. She rested her head in her hands as she leaned on the table, her eyes shutting for a moment as a wave of exhaustion swept over her.
Someone knocked on her door and she grudgingly sat up. Of course they wouldn't give her a moment's rest.
"Come in," she called, Cassandra stepping inside.
"More are arriving daily from every settlement in the region," she said, Jacquelyn struggling not to let another sigh escape her. It had only been a few days, she could barely get her feet under her long enough to decide where the next group of people could go before the another group came along. But Cassandra wasn't done talking, so Jacquelyn left a polite expression on her face, struggling not to show how tired she really was.
"Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage," she motioned for Jacquelyn to get up and follow her, which the Herald grudgingly did. "If word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One."
"I am aware."
"We have the walls and the numbers to put up a fight here, but this fight is well beyond the war we anticipated."
"Again, I am all too aware."
Cassandra turned to look at Jacquelyn.
"But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you."
They reached the top of a flight of steps, Jacquelyn pausing to think for a moment.
"It was the mark," she said, frowning slightly. "It was always the mark."
"No," Cassandra told her. "It was because he sees in you what we all see, something which has nothing to do with the mark on your hand," she turned and started walking again, Jacquelyn now frowning in mild confusion as she followed after her. "Your decisions let us heal the sky, your determination brought us out of Haven. You are the creature's rival because of what you did," she lead the Herald up another flight of steps. "And we know it. All of us," they neared a flat point, Jacquelyn looking on in surprise at Leliana standing there, holding out a sword in front of her. "The Inquisition requires a leader. The one who has already been leading it."
Cassandra once more turned to face Jacquelyn, who just stood there looking at the sword for a moment before turning to look out over Skyhold, at the people gathering below her.
"You."
"Are you certain?" she asked, turning back to face Cassandra.
"I believe that you are the best choice, though no one could ever be completely sure about handing over this much power," Jacquelyn nodded. "But there would be no Inquisition without you. How you serve, how you lead, that must be yours to decide."
Jacquelyn stepped up to Leliana and looked more carefully at the sword, thinking for a moment. It was beautifully crafted, even if it wasn't the sort of thing she would ever wish to fight with. More decorative than anything, for her purposes anyway.
This was what she had wanted. A chance to prove herself worthy. A chance to lead. She nodded, reaching out and taking the sword in her hand.
"I promise, I shall do everything I can to defeat Corypheus. He will pay for what he did back at Haven."
"Wherever you lead us," Cassandra told her, stepping to the edge. "Have our people been told?" she called down, Cullen and Josephine waiting below.
"They have," Josephine confirmed. "And soon, the world."
"Commander, will they follow?" Cullen stepped back to face those gathered.
"Inquisition, will you follow?"
Resounding cries filled the air in support of Jacquelyn, making her smile slightly.
"Will you fight?"
Louder cries.
"Will we triumph?"
The cries built even more. Cullen turned back towards Jacquelyn, drawing his sword.
"Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!"
He raised his sword towards her, Jacquelyn taking a moment before raising her own in response, the cries from the crowds louder than she could ever have imagined. Pride filled her. This was what she was born for. This was what she was meant to do.
Siara stood at near the front of the crowds, slightly separated from everyone, but still with them. She watched Jaquelyn, noticed the determined smile, and frowned. She had never particularly like the Herald, but then again, that could just be because Siara didn't like many people at the moment, and mistrust had been beaten into her since she was a child. Her eyes flicked to Cullen and Josephine, Cullen having resheathed his sword, looking at Josephine as she awkwardly looked away. Evidently she had gotten quite into the speech as well. Siara walked over to them, folding her arms in front of her.
"You're quite the conductor, aren't you?" she said, Cullen looking at her with an almost sheepish look on his face.
"Thank you?"
"Not sure if it's a compliment or not. More of an observation."
Josephine looked at Siara, a slightly curious expression on her face.
"You've never shown any support for the Herald other than when you helped her with Corypheus," she said, Siara turning her unsettling gaze on her.
"So?"
"I'm just saying that I'm surprised you came to this."
Josephine shifted uncomfortably as people began to depart from the area, once moe returning to whatever it was they were going to do. Siara honestly couldn't have cared less.
"I'm one of the most famous mercenaries in the world," she said. "I might not like Trevelyan, but if I show my support for her, she'll have an easier time. Whether I like it or not, I am annoyingly influential. Potentially even more so if it gets out that I'm the Hero's sister and people believe it."
"It's a bit hard not to," Cullen said. "You look a lot like her."
Siara paused, then looked up at him, almost glaring.
"Ah, so you're that templar, are you?" Siara sounded more resigned than anything. "The one that Mara had a great time flirting with during her brief stint at the circle," Cullen shifted uncomfortably, drawing a slight smirk from the Blade. "Anyway, doesn't matter how much I look like her. I have an idea for how to get more people supporting Jacquelyn, but it involves getting King Alistair's help. And I refuse to be the one to go to him, because quite frankly, at the moment I'd probably kill the guy. My suggestion is that Josephine, you can send word to him and ask him to… you know. Spill the beans. Break the secret. Let everyone know exactly who the Hero was. Including that she was the Blood."
Silence fell over the area as Cullen and Josephine put together exactly what Siara had said. Of course they would have realised it before. They'd just never put two and two together that it meant that their beloved Hero was a blood mage.
"That could do a lot of damage," Josephine started hesitantly. "If everyone learned that the Hero of Fereldan was maleficar."
"It's a risk we should be willing to take," Siara said. "We need to make sure that Trevelyan has as much support as possible. If the world knew that she had the support of the sister of the Warden, then more people would be willing to support her. Might not be easy for everyone to hear it at first, but Mara tricked them for a long time. It's time everyone knew the truth about who she really was."
"We'll have to discuss it with the Inquisitor first," Cullen sounded a bit hesitant. "The decision should be hers."
Siara nodded.
"Fine by me."
Then she turned and left, Cullen and Josephine sharing confused, maybe slightly worried looks. Neither of them were sure about what Siara's motives were, even if she was telling the truth.
Siara had claimed a room away from everyone else, had cleared the debris from in it within the first day she was there. She'd even started making it hers, a pile of blankets in the corner below the window, facing towards the door to the inside, next to the door to the outside. She had a pile of papers as far from the window as possible because it was always open to try help with the dust situation, and she wanted the wind to effect it as little as possible. Other than that there wasn't much in the room, but Jacen knew that as time went on she'd put more in there. He was proud of her for deciding to stay. He didn't know how long she would be staying for, but if she was starting to get comfortable then it must be for a decent amount of time. He was standing on the pile of blankets, just looking out the window, watching everyone going about their daily lives. That was when the hat boy appeared, Jacen turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You know it's rude to just pop uninvited into someone's room, right?" he asked, not expecting any kind of response.
"Your thoughts invited me."
Jacen blinked a couple of times, the frowned in confusion.
"My what now?"
"Your thoughts," the boy turned to look at Jacen. "They feel familiar. Like home."
"So… wait… you can see me?"
"You're lost, confused, struggling to find your way in a world that's not your own."
Jacen's frown grew deeper and he pushed away from the wall, crossing over to the boy.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Cole."
"And you can see me?"
"Yes. And I can hear you. You're different, though. You're not like them. Like you don't belong here. You're more like me."
"You don't look particularly dead."
He was about to reply when the door opened, Siara standing in the inner doorway. For a moment she didn't say anything, just stood there looking unimpressed about Cole's presence.
"The hell are you doing in my room?" she demanded, Jacen sighing.
"Shoulda told you she wouldn't be happy about you being in here."
"I'm talking to him," Cole stated, perfectly simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Siara looked at him as if he was crazy.
"There's no one in here," she spoke as though talking to a young child. "Now get out. Before I get in an even worse mood."
"It's okay, I can stay," Cole said, sounding like he was trying to be helpful. "You'll forget me in a minute."
Siara laughed, one of her mirthless ones.
"Yeah… no I won't. I don't forget a face. Now go."
Cole looked at Jacen, confused.
"Why does she feel different?" he asked. Jacen smiled at him sadly.
"One, who the fuck are you talking to, and two, how the fuck do you know what I feel like? And three, you saying stuff like that is kinda creepy," Siara glared at him.
"I'll explain later," Jacen assured. "You better get out before she gets any more pissed off."
Cole didn't say anything else, simply doing another of his vanishing tricks. Siara sighed, almost slamming the door and shifting over to her pile of blanket, pulling up the edge of her shirt and looking at her side, running her finger along the red and blue swirls growing there, glowing in a manner not dissimilar to lyrium. Jacen watched her worriedly.
"I really wish you'd go get that checked out," he muttered. But as usual, he got no sign that she'd heard him. And he knew that he never would. And he no longer cared.