As it turned out, armour, lyrium-infused or not, was a lot more interesting when it was described by Harritt than it was described by Brother Genitivi. History, however, was another matter. It was nice to get lost in stories that already had an ending, instead of the constant reminders, and the pressure, of making history by surviving unprecedented terrors.
It became their daily routine for the week. Fae would swipe a few things from the breakfast table, sneak them past the Inquisition's resident librarians and set herself up in her chair. Dorian would arrive later with drinks for their secret picnics, hiding them between piles of parchment and books, and they'd read. And chat, since neither of them were comfortable with silences that lasted too long.
"I fear it may be terribly Tevinter of me to ask," Dorian began one morning.
Fae craned her neck to face Dorian as best she could, her limbs tangled up in a new unique position. She found herself constantly readjusting her position while reading. "Well, now you have to."
"You hail from an alienage."
"Yeah. But that's not a question."
"How is it that you found your interest in books? I've been led to believe that alienage life is an impoverished one."
"Oh! You mean how do I know how to read?"
"If you don't mind my impertinence."
"Eh, it's fine. There was a Chantry sister, uhh… I can't remember her name. She ran a little school out of the orphanage, once a week."
"And books?"
"She brought books with her. Well, it was usually just one book. The Canticles. And Hahren Valendrian had a few others, the sister would borrow them. Even Chantry sisters get tired of the Canticles, I guess."
"Hahren simply means elder, no?"
"Yeah. But in alienages, the hahren is the leader. They speak for the alienage when humans want to talk, usually they're the local nobility, or from the chantry."
"So, not so different from a magistrate? Hearing out disputes and the like?"
"Yep."
"How fascinating. Perhaps you could arrange an introduction, if you're ever inclined to visit home."
Fae blinked, then returned to her book. "…I don't think so."
"Ah, I sense I've overstepped the mark. No homecoming, then?"
"Teryn Loghain sold him to Tevinter," Fae said after a few tense seconds. "With many others. Illegally, if that makes any difference."
"Ah. My apologies. I—"
"My lady Seer!" A messenger hopped up the last few stairs and onto the landing, slightly out of breath. "A message for you." He passed a slip of parchment to Fae, and with a small sigh of exasperation, began his jog back down the stairs.
Fae unfolded it. 'Need you here, Fae,' and the signature stamp of Inquisition heraldry inside the palm of a hand. She beamed, passing the slip to Dorian.
"Well, there you have it," he smiled. "She cannot be so cross with you if she misses your presence already."
Fae accepted the slip back, looking a little guilty. "You don't mind me leaving you here by yourself?"
"Trapped in a warm library with books and wine while you go traipsing through the hills? I'll be just fine, my dear, now be off with you," Dorian made a shooing motion. "You don't want to keep the Inquisitor waiting."
Fae arrived at the stables to find three other elves were also getting ready to ride. One woman with pale orange hair who was chattering excitedly while Dennet adjusted her horse's saddle, and two sober-looking, identical blonde men on the one horse shared between two of them.
"Hi," Fae greeted. "Are you all headed to the Plains, too?"
"That we are," the blonde man holding the reins saluted.
"We actually just got back from the Western Approach," the redheaded woman offered in a strong Orlesian accent, ducking her head around Dennet. "We were supposed to be on leave but it's not every day you get a special assignment from the Inquisitor herself, you know. None of us have been scouts for very long but if she wants her people by her side, then here we are!" she sang.
"Dalish don't see it like that, Sisi, we're lost causes to them," the other blonde man scoffed.
Sisi poked her tongue out at him. "You're no fun, you know that, Claude? If she didn't want us around then why has she specifically requested four elves?"
"Maybe she didn't, maybe Scout Harding wants us because we see better in the dark and we're about to go cave-crawling with giant spiders everywhere."
"Eugh, don't say that! What about you, are you a new scout too?" Sisi asked Fae. "You don't even have your Inquisition gear yet," she observed, pouting sympathetically.
"Uhh—"
Dennet chuckled. "Hiss is all ready for you, Seer, I'll go and fetch him for you now."
"Thanks, Dennet."
"Holy Maker!" Sisi slid out of her saddle, nearly tripping on the stirrup on her way down. "My lady Seer, it's an honour," she bowed.
"Oh, uhh, hellooo," Fae waved awkwardly.
"You're supposed to salute, not bow, Sisi," Claude shook his head. "You're making an ass of yourself."
"It's fine, really, just call me Fae. Please."
Sisi threw Claude a withering look, before returning to Fae. "Big fan," she whispered conspirationally. Spotting Dennet out of the corner of her eye, she hopped back on her horse, wriggling around to readjust herself before Dennet noticed.
If he did, he didn't say anything. "He's been snappy, of late, even more than usual," he told Fae, giving her a boost up into her own saddle. "A long run will do him good. Everyone has their packs?"
"Yep!"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Give the Inquisitor my regards."
The Inquisition base camp was set up in the middle of a thoroughly ruined fortress; Orlesian in origin, by the stone tiles mashed into the ground and the sturdy brick walls, but since reclaimed by the Dalish, only to be abandoned once more. Fae studied the brightly coloured paintings along the walls while her other travelling companions reported to Scout Harding. Pale, long-limbed elves riding enormous black halla riding into battle, a mass of fallen elves surrounding a bloodied chantry shield, then row after row of elves downcast, their featureless faces bowed in defeat.
"What's that yellow horseshoe thing above their heads?" Sisi asked, materialising next to Fae.
"Don't know. The sun, I guess? Does it get hot here?"
"No idea, I'm from Monstimmard. Scout Harding says the Inquisitor's party will be back soon. Water?"
Fae accepted the waterskin, still distracted by the paintings. "Thanks."
A short horn sounded nearby, and Sisi squeaked, grabbing onto Fae's spare arm. "Oh Maker, they're here!" she trilled. "Special mission from the Herald of Andraste, my mother is not going to believe this! She's nice, right? You said she's nice."
"She's very nice," Fae assured her, letting herself be dragged away to where Scout Harding was waving down the returning party.
"Welcome back, stew's stewing if you're hungry," Harding called out.
"Thanks Harding," Ellethir accepted a bowl from her while the others took seats near the campfire, or dispersed to return to their tents.
"So, how did it go?" Harding asked cheerily.
"The garrison's still stable, but it's too soon to move some of them. They could do with more healers when they are ready, if we can find any to spare."
"I'll send a raven to Skyhold. Should I send word to Val Royeaux, too?"
"I think so. It's their troops, I'm sure the empress would like them back sooner than later. Oh, Fae," Ellethir briefly draped Fae in a sweaty, woollen hug.
"Missed me too much to leave me at Skyhold after all, huh?" Fae's words came out muffled. "It's fine, I made new friends."
"So I see. Thank you for coming, new friends," Ellethir released Fae and saluted the three unfamiliar elves, who were standing a respectful distance behind Fae. Until Sisi leaped forward to shake Ellethir's hand.
"It's an honour, Inquisitor! The Seer told us all about you, and I just have to tell you you're such an inspiration and we are so happy to be able to help, right boys?"
The two young men saluted, Claude shaking his head in disbelief as he did so.
"Ah, the honour is mine," Ellethir cleared her throat, a little taken aback. "I hope you can forgive me, I'm asking for your help on a delicate issue. I know there are conflicting feelings about the Dalish—"
Fae looked around, noting Sera's conspicuous absence.
"—But the fact is we know there's a Dalish camp nearby, and they've most likely been affected by recent events here, so I would like to check up on them. But, most Dalish camps don't allow anyone near who isn't Dalish. As I am the only Dalish representative in the Inquisition, we're hoping I can make up the numbers with—"
"Flat-ears?" the other blonde elf, who hadn't so much as offered his name during their entire journey, crossed his arms, ignoring the elbow jab in his side delivered by Claude.
"—Other elves," Ellethir finished.
"Of course we'll help, won't we, Henri?" Sisi nodded fervently, casting a quick reproachful glance in the direction of the scowling man.
"Good. Thank you, I appreciate it. We'll leave after we've eaten, you must be hungry after your journey too."
After tending to Hiss, Fae rejoined the group, finding a spot to sit on the ground and eat. She made eye contact with Sisi, who grinned and waved. We're eating with the Inquisitor, Sisi mouthed, dancing a little in her seat. Fae grinned back despite herself. Sisi was like an even more excitable Merrill.
Ellethir spotted Fae too, scooching over to sit across from her.
"So, I take it you found the missing soldiers?" Fae asked.
"Some of them. Turns out the Venatori had made themselves comfortable here too, they managed to isolate both sides and keep them trapped in their own strongholds. We took down the ringleader, uh, Gordian, I think his name was, but the rest of the Freemen have already moved their operations to the Emerald Graves. I've already notified Cullen."
"The Freemen? I thought you said Venatori?"
"Ah, sorry. The Venatori infiltrated the Freemen, we've managed to push them out of the Plains but we'll have to follow them to the Emerald Graves before they can get any further. If my current theories hold, we might find our way to Sampson too."
"And the undead?"
"That was Gordian, too." Ellethir leaned forward to whisper. "A necromancer. He was stockpiling the bodies of the fallen soldiers in the battlements and summoning spirits to raise them. An attempt at giving Corypheus another army to control."
"Shit," Fae whispered back. "What about the Dalish, do we know anything about them?"
Ellethir leaned back on her hands with a sigh. "Next to nothing, really. If they make camp this close to human settlements, it's possible they might be more willing to entertain outsiders. Cassandra's insisting on joining us, and Varric's had dealings with Dalish clans before, as have you, but this is sacred land. It could well be that they simply refuse to leave the last bastion of the elven empire for good, while also being isolationists."
"We won't know until we have arrows pointed at us," Fae nodded to the road ahead, where two enormous Andrastian disciples hewn out of stone held ever-burning braziers in the palms of their hands.
The main road was a grim sight. Abandoned supply wagons lay broken, swept to the sides to make room for the occasional stretcher-bearers carrying fallen soldiers covered by canvas sheets. The trees had been reduced to charred black husks standing rigidly, ready to crumble, and the road itself was scarred with signs of demonic presence. Hardened lava, black bursts of struck lightning, the occasional foul-smelling mound of unrecognisable flesh.
The battlements to the right were dirt trenches reinforced with wooden planks and stakes, and a tattered Orlesian flag still floated half-heartedly above a group of chevaliers undergoing military exercises. Ellethir was focused on the left side of the road, ducking in and out of the pathways half-hidden by the stone outcroppings of the hills. "It was one of these," she muttered to herself.
Solas joined her, jogging to the path ahead. "I believe it's this one, Inquisitor," he beckoned her over.
"It looks too narrow for us to fit through," Claude frowned.
Ellethir caught up with Solas, and found what she was looking for, pointing towards something the rest of the party couldn't see yet. "Good! We found Fen'harel! This way!"
The opening between the two rocks was wider than they first appeared, and a large statue of a reclining wolf on the corner of another ruined fortress watched the road below.
"Is that meant to be the Dread Wolf?" Sisi asked, eyes wide.
"A warning to not continue on," Ellethir explained, squinting up at the wolf. "We're not heeding that warning today. Hopefully he won't hold that against us."
"Get down!" A shout came back from the back of the party, and Fae reached for the staff on her back, casting her arcane shield wide with her free hand. She looked up. Two Dalish archers, one old, one young, stood on the top of what remained of a stone archway.
"Looks like you need help!" The older one yelled.
Fae heard Bianca being fired behind her. A small band of undead had reached them, swinging rusted shortswords wildly at whoever was closest to them. The arrows from the Dalish archers struck true with every shot, the rest felled by the Inquisitor's party.
"Well now, the dead should stay dead, wouldn't you say, sister?" The older man deftly dropped from one fallen stone to the next until he reached the ground, with the younger man right behind him, another arrow still nocked in his bow.
"I would," Ellethir agreed. "These ones are stragglers, we must have missed a few."
The old man waved his hand. "Sure, there'll be more where they came from, no doubt, so long as the shem armies keep at each other. But we'd rather they keep each other distracted so we can go about our business. Might I ask what yours is, sister? You have a curious choice in travelling companions, to be sure."
"You're speaking to Ellethir of Clan Lavellan, Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor of the renewed Inquisition," Fae said, standing a little ahead of Ellethir with her arcane shield still shimmering slightly.
The old man laughed. "Ha! The Inquisitor is one of the People! I'd heard the Inquisitor of the new shem army was an elf, but I assumed they'd be a flat-ear."
"Got the news from a shem who tried to get too close despite our warnings," the younger man spat on the ground. "Fool."
"Hush, Namin." Olafin nodded to Ellethir. "You're speaking to Olafin, an old man who has still has a keen eye for trouble, and Namin, the one usually causing it. This is Halin'Sulahn, sister. Aneth ara."
"Ma serannas, hahren."
"Well now, Inquisitor Ellethir of Clan Lavellan, what business do you have with Clan Enasa? Is it about these shem armies?"
"They're in the process of retreating now, their civil war's over," Ellethir explained. "They had an infiltrator in their ranks, he was the one making sure the dead came back. Now he's dead too. We've only come to see if we could be of any help to you, since we're here. We've seen your halla about."
Olafin chuckled. "That's good of you. Dirthamen knows Keeper Hawen is stretched thin at the minute. You can bring the flat-ears with you, if you like." He paused, for a moment. "The durgen'len too I suppose, if you won't mind the children pestering you with questions. If you have other Inquisition agents in the area, you might tell them that this is as far as shemlen go. Keeper's orders. Follow the river to the east, you'll find our camp there."
"Understood."
"Sorry, Seeker, no humans allowed," Varric feigned disappointment with a wide telltale grin.
Cassandra tsked. "It was worth a try, but I will respect their wishes. I will see you back at camp, Inquisitor," she saluted.
"Spread the word, Cassandra, the Inquisition steers clear of Halin'Sulahn until their Keeper tells us otherwise," Ellethir instructed.
"Of course, Inquisitor."
Past the ruined archways, the sky was blotted out by the leaves of great moss-covered trees, allowing only thin streams of sunlight to filter through. The air was cold and damp, a perpetual low mist hovering a few inches over the ground. Natural stone formations formed short cliffs and unusual shadows, a perfect setting for an ambush. No doubt other Dalish archers were keeping an eye on the Inquisitor's party, staying out of sight with their arrows ready.
Sisi gasped. "Is that a halla?!"
The small white deer-like animal had been watching them from a distance. At Sisi's outburst, it spooked and disappeared, fast enough for the girl to see only a glimpse of long horns that curled and waved together like strands of hair.
Sisi clamped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry… I've never seen a real one before. They're so beautiful."
"They are," Ellethir agreed. "That one was a buck, a male."
"How can you tell?"
"When they get spooked, bucks run to warn their herd and lead their young away. A doe will usually charge, and give the others time to escape."
"Wow. Did you care for the halla, Inquisitor, in Clan Lavellan?"
"No." Ellethir gestured to the staff on her back. "Dalish mages are always the Keeper's apprentice, or next in line to be their apprentice."
"Ohhh. Wow."
"Stop bothering the Inquisitor with your questions, Sisi."
"Get off my back, Claude."
They eventually reached the river, although the section they arrived at was little more than a shallow stream. A large stone owl stood snugly against a tree half-embedded in the water's edge.
"Did Olafin say go east or west at the river?" Varric asked.
"East," Claude said, at the same time that Fae said "West."
"Perfect."
"East," Ellethir confirmed. "See that waterfall in the distance, with Fen'Harel sitting at the top? That means it's the wrong way, so we go this way."
"I thought Fen'Harel was pointing us in the right direction," Fae squinted at the distant waterfall, trying to see a way up.
"When he's by himself, yes. But with Mythal being here, that means that Fen'Harel is pointing in the wrong direction," Ellethir patted the stone owl.
"Mythal is the owl?" Varric took a few steps back to look at it properly.
"Yes. For wisdom. So, we go east." Both sides of the stream were blocked by the short cliffs, and the shore on the other side of the river was a few minutes' walk away, so Ellethir began to wade into the stream, and the party followed suit.
Fae held out an arm. "You sure you don't need something to hold onto, Inquisitor? In case you fall and drown?"
"That was one time, Fae."