A/N: Wrote this fairly quickly and did not read it over once, so my apologies for the mistakes. I'm throwing it out into the world before I head off to bed, because I had fun writing it, and we're leading up to a fun (did I say fun? it's actually horrible) point in the storyline. So yeah. I needed to get this out there. Hopefully you'll enjoy!

CW: very brief talk of hunting/skinning animals and mild gaslighting

(Also, I understand if Ellana's reactions here feel out of left field and really odd, but it's actually the point of the entire interaction-how both sisters try and keep things to themselves to the point where they explode and it makes no sense except that they're overwhelmed and need comfort. It's the ADHD in me speaking, demanding representation through my characters lol hopefully you understand!)

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading 3

It was dark by the time Amaryllis went to find her sister. She had meant to earlier when she had finished helping Yevven, but he had offered her tea, asking her to stay and rest a while. And though she wasn't happy to admit it, she had needed the rest. She knew she looked it, too-her under-eyes were usually dark, but at this point, they were a deep, bruising purple. She had overexerted herself, and there was no hiding it now.

Leaving Yevven's cottage, she saw a line had formed before a fire-and a large cooking pot. The people of the village held bowls waiting to be filled.

She found her sister to be the one filling them.

Amaryllis smiled at the sight. Ellana was smiling, too-a sight for truly sore eyes. Amaryllis couldn't recall the last time she had seen her sister smiling so openly.

"Hey!" A familiar voice called from the right. She turned and saw Varric standing atop a set of stairs, waving at her. Amaryllis made her way toward him. "They're putting us up for the night-that's where you and your sister are staying." Varric jutted his thumb over his shoulder, to the cottage behind him. "The Seeker's spending her night with the other Inquisition soldiers, taking a turn for the night watch. Not sure where Chuckles went, but I don't think any of us need to guess at what he's doing."

Amaryllis nodded. "Thank you, Varric."

"At least we'll be having a hot meal tonight."

Amaryllis nodded again, smiling slightly in his direction though she didn't meet his gaze. She was hungry and exhausted, and part of her was screaming for the nearest available surface to lie down and sleep for a century.

"...Not to pry, kid, but are you doing alright?"

"Tired," she murmured. "And hungry, I think."

"...You think?"

She shrugged. "I haven't eaten since this morning, so it's likely."

"Didn't I hear your sister complaining about your lack of ability to care for yourself yesterday?" Varric asked. "And the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before-"

Amaryllis grimaced. "It's not that I don't care about myself, it's just that I... forget. To care for myself."

"Is that not the same thing?"

Steps sounded behind them. Amaryllis turned to find her sister holding two steaming bowls of soup. Her gaze gravitated toward the steam rising from them. She swallowed-and found that yes, she was hungry.

"It's the same thing," Ellana answered for her. She was no longer smiling. Her eyes held no emotion. Amaryllis fought not to grimace again. "Come on, Amaryllis."

Varric whistled low, clicking his tongue. "Good luck, kid."

Amaryllis winced.

She followed Ellana into the cottage. There was a fireplace across the room, two beds on opposite sides, and a table with a few chairs near the door. If this had been someone's home, there seemed to be no evidence of it.

Ellana placed their bowls on top of the table. She didn't look at Amaryllis before she took a seat and began eating.

Amaryllis slid into the chair before her, and though she eyed her sister anxiously, knowing there was likely an argument awaiting her, she dug in. It was a simple dish-a soupy sort of pottage, with added potatoes, cabbage, and wood garlic. And though it was bland, she savored every bite. Too long they had gone without a hot meal. Feeling that familiar heat in her stomach was comforting, despite the atmosphere.

When Amaryllis was finished, Ellana stood, slamming her empty bowl on top of her sister's.

"I'll wash them," Amaryllis said.

Ellana shook her head. Throwing the door open, Ellana handed them off to a soldier walking by, thanking them profusely, then with one last smile for the soldier, closed the door behind her, finally looking at Amaryllis.

"Amaryllis," Ellana began. There was barely contained fire in her voice. She walked toward the fireplace and threw down a few logs, lighting it with a quick snap of her fingers. "Busy day?"

"...Yes." What else was she meant to say?

"After I spoke with Mother Giselle this morning, I went looking for you."

"How did that go? The talk?"

Ellana frowned. "It was good. She's packing for Haven as we speak-she'll do what she can to aid the Inquisition. She told me to do the same for the people of the Crossroads, to show them the Inquisition is a cause worth supporting. That we're here to help." She crossed her arms, staring into the fire. "I went to talk with Corporal Vale, but Cassandra informed me you both had already spoken to not only him but Willem, the hunter, and Recruit Whittle. And so I went to find you, but you had already busied yourself with the injured."

"There were many," Amaryllis explained, though her confusion grew. She was unsure of where her sister was going with this. Was she not meant to help? Was this why Ellana was angry with her? "I spent the majority of the day helping a woman who couldn't breathe. Her son has joined a cult, and he was the one treating her previously, but he isn't here now, and she was very, very ill-"

"Is that why you went overboard? For a stranger?"

Amaryllis' eyes widened in shock. She gazed across the room at her sister, dumbfounded.

"I don't know why you're looking at me like that, Lis. That man and his wife are strangers to us. And you know exactly what happens when you go too far, when you use too much-you lose some of yourself. And yet you are always so willing to give yourself for others. For strangers."

"But they're not strangers," Amaryllis argued. She stood then too, walking closer to her sister. There was a tension between them that felt far, far too close to snapping. What could she do to fix it? What was she to say to ease her sister's worries? What had she done this time? It couldn't have been only this. It couldn't have been because she had helped. "Not anymore. Their names are Yevven and Syriannas. They once lived in the Denerim alienage, but Yevven had worked hard and gained their freedom. They have three grown children. They have a grandchild on the way. They-"

"Are not Dalish. But isn't that why you helped them? Because they're elvhen? Because they reminded you of home?"

"What?" Amaryllis could feel herself beginning to shake. Her vision darkened around the edges, but still she stood, allowing her growing anger to keep her afloat. "Ellana, what on Ghilan'nain's green earth are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that it's ridiculous, Amaryllis-it's ridiculous that you give and give and get nothing in return, and it's ridiculous that you push yourself past what is healthy and knowingly hurt yourself again and again for strangers . It's ridiculous that you act like you've done nothing wrong! It's ridiculous that even when I say something to you about it, you don't listen, you just keep doing it, you just don't care that I-" Ellana took a deep breath, then threw her hands up in exasperation. "It's ridiculous! It's all so stupid! I'm Dalish and I don't even know their maker or their Andraste, yet I'm her Herald? I'm the people's hope and the source of their rage? I have to kill in Andraste's name? I have to be the one to stop this war? I have to talk to people who can barely look me in the eye because they think I'm some sort of savior, then call me knife-ear behind my back? I have to be-be- everything for them but what do I get in return? A wound in my hand that bleeds daily, what feels like permanent exhaustion, and a sister who just can't-can't-I don't know! I don't know anything anymore!"

"Ellana," Amaryllis was quick to deflate. Taking a few trembling steps to one of the beds, she sat down and put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry."

"You-" There was a huff, and then the bed dipped beside her. "What are you sorry for, exactly?"

"For not thinking," And despite her gritted teeth, despite the way she fought them back, tears began to fall. She watched them drip onto her lap, wetting her trousers. "I'm sorry."

An arm wrapped around her midsection, and soon she was forced to lift her head and hug her sister back.

"I'm sorry, too," Ellana murmured into her shoulder. "I hadn't meant to dump all of that on you."

"No, I want you to talk to me. Don't ever be sorry for sharing your worries." Amaryllis sniffled. "Even if most of them are about me."

Ellana chuckled once, then suddenly she began to shake, falling into Amaryllis and clutching at her back as if she were the only thing keeping her from drowning.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Lis," she sobbed. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't want to be here. I don't want to kill any more mages-they're afraid, they don't understand, they see the banner and they think us enemies, they think we don't understand and I can't, I can't-"

Amaryllis tightened her hold, clutching her sister's back with just as much force. "We can go home, Ellana, we can leave all of this behind and go home and be with the clan, and you can take your place as Keeper when the time comes, and I'll be the clan healer, and we can-"

Trembling with her grief, Ellana allowed herself to fall to pieces in Amaryllis' arms. And though they both knew it couldn't be, Amaryllis continued on, painting the story of the future that would never come to pass.

There would be no going back for Ellana now. Not while the fate of Thedas lay in the palm of her left hand.

When they had finished crying they stood, pushing the two beds to the center of the room until they rested together. They were about to sleep when Amaryllis suddenly remembered.

"My bag! I almost forgot," She exclaimed, rushing back to the dining chair where her bag sat, slung over its back. "It's-there it is!"

Pulling a paper-wrapped parcel from its depths, she made her way back over to their bed.

"What is it?" Ellana asked, crawling closer, her brow lifted in curiosity.

"Yevven-the man whose wife I helped today-gave me bilberry cakes he said they had made a few days ago... before she had gotten worse."

She handed one to Ellana, who gazed down at it thoughtfully. Then, she took a bite. Amaryllis did, too.

"These are almost as good as Dilisal's," Ellana mumbled through her mouthful. Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, she glanced back up at Amaryllis. "Yevven, you said his name was? And his wife?"

"Syriannas."

Ellana nodded. "I should introduce myself. I'd like to hear their story."

Beaming, Amaryllis took another bite of her bilberry cake.

It was better than Dilisal's.

In the early morning, before the sun had fully risen, they took to the hills. It was easy-hunting. Something Amaryllis and Ellana had more than enough practice at. They caught nugs and foxes and ram, thanking Andruil as they gutted and skinned their bounty. Cassandra hadn't been awake when they had left, but a few Inquisition soldiers had insisted they tag along, so Ellana put them to work, too.

When their group finally made their way back to the hunter, carrying enough to hold the village over for at least a few months, Willem threw his hat to the ground and rushed to help. Together they spent the day processing the meat. Some they cut into strips that they set to dry in the sun. Others they put in a smokehouse or packed with dry salt to be cured.

That night, when Ellana and Amaryllis both went to help hand out dinner, they were handed big, steaming bowls of meat-laden stew and shooed away. They ate their meals before the fire, then answered the knock at the door to find Yevven and Syriannas holding a pot, tea cups, and a plate of bilberry cakes.

For the first night in months, Amaryllis could say she truly slept well.

The next day they left for Winterwatch Tower.

It was meant to be a half day's journey-close to a straight shot from the Crossroads, save a hill or twelve, but what was Ferelden without its hills? It was meant to be a half day's journey.

Of course they ran into templars.

They were cocky, swinging their swords about in what they had surely meant to be an intimidation tactic. Three mages, a dwarf with a crossbow, and a single sword user? To them, Amaryllis was sure they looked the fool. But for the short time they had spent together, the five of them had learned well enough how to coordinate their battles.

The fight was over before it began. After a quick searching of pockets, they discovered a letter, the whereabouts of a Templar encampment, and a worn ring. Engraved was Mythal's blessing.

"...why would they have had this?" Amaryllis was the first to speak. Ellana had grown eerily quiet, her brows drawn down with anger. She closed a shaking fist around the ring.

"The trophy of a murderer?" Varric offered. "Not that I want to go there, but with these nugheads being what they were I wouldn't be surprised."

"Perhaps they found it on the road?" Cassandra added. "In any case, it would be best for us to move on. The Templar Encampment noted in this letter is not far."

Ellana slid the ring into her pocket with a nod of finality. "Let's not waste time, then."

Their moods soured further upon seeing who the ring belonged to. She stood at the door of her cottage, her eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, but her was set firmly, lips pressed in fiery determination.

"You lot look lost," she called out, crossing her arms. She widened her stance as if trying to make herself seem larger than she was. "I'd be careful if I were you. Templars killed my husband just two days ago. Saw him digging out a stump and the idiots couldn't tell a shovel from a damned mage's staff. Stole the ring right from his finger-the ring I gave him on our wedding day." She growled the last bit, spitting her fury onto the ground beside her. "Said they had to be careful. Sick fucking bastards."

Without speaking, Ellana pulled the ring from her pocket and stepped forward. She pressed it into the woman's palm.

The woman's chin began to shake, and she gritted her teeth against her oncoming tears, attempting to thank Ellana for returning it to her, Ellana wrapped her arms around her.

And when the woman crumbled against her, Ellana steeled herself, holding her ever tighter.

It didn't get better.

After Ellana had pulled away, the woman thanked her, then retreated to her cabin. The five of them carried on with the sound of her wailing trailing behind them.

A recruit along the path begged them for help finding their friend. Amaryllis promised she would do what she could to assuage his worries. Ellana said nothing.

They found a phylactery, along with a note, on the body of a dead Templar. Ellana handed it off to Cassandra without so much as glancing at it. Amaryllis felt the pit in her stomach grow heavier.

When they approached the Winterwatch Tower, the mark flared to life, pulsating a bright, blinding green from Ellana's palm. She winced as blood spilled to the ground beneath her, yet continued forward.

Rifts, they had come to expect.

People worshipping them, however, was another story.

Amaryllis was beginning to feel more and more like she was stealing pages from the books Varric so often loved to talk about. Because this shit had grown far, far too weird for Amaryllis' liking.

The cult had chosen to live with a rift. They had lost people to the rift. And even after seeing the mark on Ellana's hand, their leader still asked that Ellana prove her worth.

Taking down the demons and closing the rift seemed to take more out of them mentally than it did physically. Especially when, approaching the gate after it was finished, they found the cultists on their knees, now praising the Herald of Andraste. Even as Ellana denied the title.

The leader didn't seem to care. Still she claimed herself to be a fool for doubting. Still, she asked, of what help she could be.

"Spread word of the Inquisition wherever you can," Cassandra asked of her.

"Help the refugees," Ellana demanded instead. "It's the least you can do after hiding so cowardly."

Their leader agreed, with both sentiments, to their surprise, even going so far as to bow her head as if ashamed of what she and her people had done.

But Amaryllis had a far more important issue at hand.

"Tell me where Hyndel is," she told their leader. "I need to speak with him."

"Of course. He has taken to the tower to the right, where he has been studying potions under Healer Sum-"

Amaryllis did not stay to listen to the rest of her answer.

Amaryllis blamed what happened next on the stresses of the day. It was the only way she could think to explain it.

Once she had climbed the many stairs of the tower-leaving the rest of their party behind in her respective dust-she approached him without hesitation.

"Are you Hyndel?" She asked. Anger bloomed inside her chest, a heat that rose and spread throughout her veins like a sickness. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm. It only made her heart race faster.

The boy nodded. "Yes, I am he. Might I be of service?"

Amaryllis swallowed thickly and let her hands curl into fists. Maybe the pain of her nails digging into her palms would keep her frustration at bay. "Right. Your mother and father need you, Hyndel. Your mother was incredibly ill, but thankfully I was able to help her with what information you left behind. Incredibly foolish, by the way, to leave your chronically ill mother alone with no help at all save for notes she and your father both couldn't even attempt to decipher. Did you know that your father can't read? Did you not think to leave the recipe behind, in case they did need help?"

"What? But, mother-she hasn't fallen ill since-I didn't think she would need-"

"Oh, so you didn't think!" The pain wasn't distracting her. It wasn't helping at all. Instead, it grew, boiling within her blood until she felt red-faced and short of breath. It shouldn't have been this serious. Amaryllis wasn't involved; she wasn't family; she barely knew them! And yet. And yet... "One would assume that you would have, knowing just how serious your mother's condition is!"

"You-I'm sorry, who are you? What gives you the right to speak to me in this way?"

"What gives me the right? Fenedhis, what gives me the right? My family is dead, Hyndel. I lost them. And you're here, taking yours for granted. You have no idea what it's like. You have no idea the agony, the suffering-I would give my life to see my mother smile again. I would give anything to feel her arms around me just once more. But you have the audacity to run off to a tower a half day's journey from her for what? Some imbecilic ideas that I frankly do not care to learn about,? Don't even try to explain them to me, I don't care what you have to say. Go back to your family, Hyndel."

He stepped back. His expression turned to disdain. "How dare you-"

Amaryllis didn't wait for him to finish. Her fist connected with his face before she could imagine what consequences might follow.

A/N: Please remember that this is better read on ao3!