Chapter 1

The snow crunched loudly beneath his boots as he came to a stop in front of a small group of women busy stirring large pots containing the newly minted Inquisitions' supper.

"Does anyone here know how to help with bandaging wounds?" – The gruffness of his voice spoke of a long time spent surrounded by fumes of various concoctions. The whispers resulting from his question made him in frown in irritation:

"He must mean the killer."

"I'd be too scared to touch 'im, he'd murder me as he sleeps!"

"He'll murder me with his message before I touch 'im, what if does the same as at the Conclave?"

Adan was not the most patient man in Thedas at the best of times, but the tittering murmurs and the refusal of the women to meet his gaze lest they agree just by looking at him cut his already short fuse:

"I'm not asking you to restrain him, just help the elf and I with treating his wounds by doing some bandaging! Daft hens, he won't do any harm to you!" – Even his glare and what he felt was a reasonable assurance didn't seem to move anyone in the group of former Haven pilgrims that volunteered to cook for the Inquisition.

"I'll assist Master Adan. I've helped with treating wounded people before." – The alchemist turned around towards the voice. "I wouldn't want to distract you from your work Mistress Varelli."

The tall dark-haired woman was currently Haven's head cook and kept the people in Haven in good order with her cooking. Most importantly, none managed to fall sick due to her food and thus didn't bother him. This accorded Mistress Varelli more respect from the alchemist and accounted for a more measured tone in their conversation.

"Most of the work has already been done. My helpers will see to the stirring of the stew and the bread won't go into the ovens for some time yet."

Looking relieved the alchemist turned to walk to the cabin housing his new patient and the strange elven apostate who was keeping him alive. The woman caught up with him as he was about to enter the cabin.

It was large by Haven's standards containing not only enough room for a bed, but also a small wardrobe and space for the alchemist to lay his various potions and instruments. The man on the bed stirred briefly as Adan and the woman entered, but did not wake or even open his eyes. The tall elf sitting by the right side of the bed turned towards the alchemist.

"Did you manage to find someone to assist?"

"None of these devout pilgrims wanted to help us Solas, but fortunately, Mistress Varelli here agreed or I would have had to ask Seeker Pentaghast to choose a volunteer"

The elf looked at the woman more closely: "Not everyone would have agreed to help the man many believe to be the Divine's killer."

The woman shrugged: "He is the only survivor of the Conclave. Until he wakes dubbing him a killer would seem pointless."

"For some it's enough, many in the camp has already decided he's guilty. I need to get more embrium, it shouldn't take more than an hour. "Adan turned towards the door with an ungraceful, but economical movement and left the cabin.

"If you would please clean the torso of our patient Mistress Varelli. He has some nasty scratches on his ribs that I'm hoping won't get infected."

"Just Lenora, Master Solas." The woman stood near the small mobile basin and poured some hot water from a large jug on her hands, rubbing them together as to remove any dirt on her palms.

"Then, just Solas please. The soap is to your right next to the empty red flask". Solas watched the woman use the soap block to lather her hands and use more hot water to wash it off. This showed that at least, she has treated wounded before and knew to wash her hands before cleaning any wounds. That boded well for his patient, many in Haven would prefer to see him dead.

Lenora had in the meantime removed the patient's shirt and his old bandages. She was using a clean wet cloth to wipe his torso, careful about pressing too hard on a particularly deep gash on his ribs as she asked if anyone knew who he was.

"Sister Nightingale believes that this is Aedan Trevelyan. One of the members of the House Trevelyan present at the Conclave. From what I've heard, he was a mage sympathiser, who wasn't there on behalf of his house. House Trevelyan I'm given to understand is loyal to the Chantry and has more than one member as a lay brother or sister and even a few Templar among their numbers."

"I can see why his name wasn't announced to the general populace. It's easy to find a scapegoat at times like these and his sympathies make him an easy target." Lenora took a new bandage and put some healing paste on it in preparation of wrapping it around the unconscious man.

"Many pilgrims to Haven aren't very sympathetic to mages." The statement was made in the neutral tone, but Solas' posture was tense.

Lenora didn't respond straight away; her right hand carefully lifting the patient's shoulders so she could get the bandage around his body. She extended her left hand towards the small bowl containing the healing paste and it floated gently next to her as she scooped some paste to put onto the gash on the patient's ribs. The bandages started slowly wrapping themselves around the man's torso whilst she checked that they were not bound too tightly.

"The ability to use magic does not make one dangerous, but many don't understand that it's the wielder's intent that shapes the effect. This includes most of the pilgrims and some will even react with hostility to things they don't understand. I'm not a pilgrim. I also wouldn't attack someone, who looks like they're barely breathing on pure speculation."

Solas kept silent and moved to help her with lowering the man's shoulders back onto the bed.

"If you're not a pilgrim, then why come to Haven? " The question was asked as Lenora gathered the used bandages to be cleaned. She shrugged again before replying:

"I helped a few pilgrims reach Haven when I found them lost in the Hinterlands about a week ago. I was curious about Haven so I made the journey myself. The day after I arrived the Conclave went up in ash and fire. Commander Cullen was searching for someone to help with cooking for the Inquisition since the previous cook perished at the Conclave and his apprentice wasn't skilled enough to do the job.

"Just like that, Commander Cullen asked and you agreed to cook for more than 200 people in a dire situation?" Solas was smiling to show that the question wasn't to be taken seriously.

Lenora's lips twitched slightly, clearly supressing a smile.

"Commander Cullen may be a handsome man, but I smelt the apprentice's concoction. There was more danger to be had from eating that stew than all the demons attacking the Inquisition. No cook worth their salt would have left without helping."

"Saving the world through cooking is a noble cause. I wish all my enemies were as easily defeated as hungry stomachs. My apologies Lenora, I did not mean to offend. Your cooking skills are highly spoken of and probably have kept more than one soldier staying with the Inquisition."

"None taken. Now if there is nothing else for the moment, I'll get these bandages washed and ready to be used this evening." With that, she pushed the cabin door open to leave and only Solas' sharp elven hearing picked up her last sentence, probably not intended to be heard.

"Far nobler than leading people to their deaths."

Then the door closed and the bowl with healing paste gently floated down to sit among the potion flasks.

Lenora returned that same evening to bring back the cleaned bandages as well as some food for both Solas and Adan. Leaving them to eat she returned a short time later with a bowl of soup for their patient.

"Is he well enough to be fed?" Adan put his empty bowl of stew down: "We tried to get some warm tea down his throat yesterday, but will need to lift him up. He might swallow if we pour the soup into his mouth carefully."

Lenora took an empty cup sitting among the small army of flasks near the small mobile basin. "Can I use this? The soup is thin enough to be poured into the cup and fed as tea."

Adan nodded in answer and gathered his and Solas' empty bowls. "I'll return these in the meantime and report to Sister Nightingale about his progress."

This time it was Solas who gently lifted the patient's shoulders and got him into a sitting position.

"I think that wound has almost healed. I would like you to re-apply the salve once Aedan has been fed."

She nodded and poured the soup into the cup trying to make sure that nothing was spilled and brought the edge of the cup to his lips and tilted it towards the young man's mouth. He was clearly thirsty and started swallowing the soup as soon as the liquid touched his lips.

"Steady now, the soup isn't going anywhere."

Whether he was cognisant of her admonishment or not he slowed down in his gulping motions and soon the cup was empty. Lenora was about to put the cup down when his eyes opened and fixed a bleary-looking gaze upon her face:

"Blue Eyes." – His voice sounded rusty. "Come dancing with me beautiful."

Solas rose from his seat by the bed. "You're awake! What can you remember?" – But the dark-haired human closed his eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness whilst the green light of the mark on his left hand flared.

"He is better, but not well enough to wake. Perhaps tomorrow." – Solas sounded disappointed as he pushed some energy into the mark on Aedan's left hand.

"Well, nothing wrong with his flirting skills at least." – Lenora remarked dryly, recovering from the initial shock of being flirted with by a man who spent the last two days insensible on the bed.

"Indeed. I imagine Commander Cullen will be jealous if that's a reaction after only one cup of soup – Blue Eyes."

Lenora started laughing prompting a wider smile from Solas. She set the cup on the floor and laughed more, initial soft sounds becoming louder.

"I can only imagine the chaos if he ever tastes my desserts."

"I think we might have to ask Seeker Pentaghast to intervene in his duel with the Commander."

That set Lenora's off even more and she leaned against the wall of the cabin for support and Solas couldn't help, but chuckle in mirth at the mental image."

The door to the cabin opened abruptly as the aforementioned Seeker strode into the cabin. The tall warrior glared at Solas first, her mouth set in a grim line.

"I didn't realise our situation warranted such amusement Solas." – She ground out and sent a terse look towards Lenora. "Has the patient awakened yet?"

Solas stiffened, the hostility of the other woman palpable, but he kept his tone even as he replied: "Only very briefly Seeker. He's improving and should be able to wake soon."

If possible, Cassandra Pentaghast ground her teeth even closer together: "How soon? The Breach widens very fast and our forces are severely strained by the masses of demons pouring out."

"The patient grows stronger, perhaps another day and he should be able to wake. He is too weak at the moment." – Solas tried to sound placating, but he didn't think it would be possible with the Seeker.

"You have until tomorrow midday and no sending him into a magical sleep. He will be awake and ready to be questioned. Is it understood?" Solas nodded, seemingly unperturbed by the order he received.

The warrior whirled to focus her glare on Lenora: "Do you not have duties to attend to instead of flirting?" – She folded her arms in front of her and stared down on Lenora who was still leaning against the wall of the cabin.

"I'm assisting Solas with bandaging the patient's wounds."

"I don't think the prisoner will need any more coddling, you're dismissed." – The Seeker was about to leave the cabin after issuing her orders when a quiet voice interrupted her mid-stride:

"When I'm done with the bandages My Lady, the patient is still weak."

To her credit the Seeker's reaction was a lot milder than her earlier tone suggested. This time she turned and faced Lenora straight, examining her possibly for the first time. Solas had seen the Seeker turn her ire on seasoned soldiers and seen them tremble after she was through talking to them, yet the volunteer cook from Haven didn't seem to be intimidated.

"I believe I gave you an order soldier." – Seeker's voice was deceptively mild holding the potential to turn nasty.

Lenora seems to have ignored the warning signs in front of her as she replied: "I'm not a soldier Lady Pentaghast. I'm only assisting with cooking for the volunteers of the Inquisition." She straightened from her pose of leaning against the cabin wall and looked the armoured woman in the eye.

The two women faced each for a long moment, the Seeker glaring at the shorter woman, who in turn simply stared back. Cassandra Pentaghast's shoulders slumped slightly and she turned towards the door again.

"Do what you need to do and return to your duties. The Inquisition needs all the skills they can get. And Solas? – Her tone switched to that deceptively mild note: "No magical sleep."

"Of course Seeker Pentaghast."

The door slammed and the remaining occupants let out a small breath of relief. The Seeker took all her tension with her and the cabin seemed bigger without it. Solas looked at Lenora again before speaking:

"I believe the term I heard used for your behaviour is – nervy. Some soldiers will even say insolent."

Lenora grinned: "Audacious, brazen, impertinent or simply disrespectful. I heard them before, but I still will not let anyone bully me. Especially for no other reason is because they're tired."

Solas couldn't help but smile back. "Careful or our dear lady Seeker may conscript you, lack of sleep and all."

"I doubt it. I was never a good soldier. Occasionally a good scout, but never one to obey orders readily." –She picked up the jar containing the healing paste. "I'll redo the bandages, those gashes should heal in the next few days."

Solas sighed: "He may not have a few says, each time the Breach grows it hurts him more. The Breach is killing him unless we find a way to close it."

Lenora was in the process of unwrapping the bandages, but stopped to look at Solas in concern.

"He needs to be awake for the mark to be manipulated properly. Isn't it?" They hadn't talked about the mark, a stark reminder of the reality containing demons and rifts hidden behind the relative safety of the cabin walls.

Solas nodded, his earlier tiredness slamming into him as his shoulders slumped. "I suspect he can use the mark to shut the smaller rifts and possibly the Breach as well. For that, he needs to be awake. His body had been pushing back the effects of the mark, but it hasn't had the chance to recover so he can wake up. Even a night's sleep would be enough for him to wake. I tried sending him into a magical sleep before, but there is too much interference from the mark. It's trying to bond with his body, but the body's natural defences won't let it. I don't think the bonding will kill Aedan though." – The last part was said to reassure his unexpected ally or maybe even himself.

"What if there is a way for his body to rest so the mark will bond without his body resisting?" – Lenora's voice was speculative, but Solas could see the suggestion taking hold.

"How? I tried to shut down the mark, or simply make it less active without any success. The mark seems to either counteract any magic used on it or amplify it. Either way it remains active"

"If you can get the mark to amplify the magic, I might be able to send some magic aimed at tiring out the subject and the mark will make sure it happens quicker. His body will be too exhausted to fight the mark and he'll sleep naturally."

"The mark might even integrate with his body easier without the body's defences trying to expel it." He paused, thinking of repercussions. "Will you be able to do it safely?"

"I've done it before, but the way I would have to do it is…different. To channel this spell needs to be done with precision that an open Veil will make difficult." – Lenora's voice was quiet and Solas sensed that probing further would not help the present situation.

Lenora seemed to reach a decision: "Let's re-bandage his ribs and we can begin."

Together they managed to wrap fresh bandages on Aedan's torso in record short time and then they both sat down on the bed. Lenora was on one side, fingers still bearing a trace of the healing paste, residing on Aedan's temples and Solas was holding his left hand with both his palms.

"Are you ready Lenora?" – The woman nodded and closed her eyes. Soft white light suffused her fingers and flowed into Aedan. Slowly at first, but the light seemed to spread from his head into his neck and flowing downwards until the white light flowed around his entire body.

"You can begin now Solas." – Despite the seemingly easy way the magic seemed to flow from her fingers, her voice sounded strained.

Solas started to push a little energy into the mark. He knew after taking care of Aedan that if small amounts of energy were pushed into the mark, it would amplify the sent magic. Alternatively, if he was to push too much energy the mark would serve as a barrier to stop any magic aimed at it. The energy Lenora was pushing into the mark soon became amplified by the mark it and his patient's hand flared bright green. It took a few more minutes until the bed and all its occupants were covered in a pale green light, the green of the mark merging with whatever magic Lenora produced.

It felt that an hour was spent with both Lenora and him just sitting on the bed and gently pushing energy into the man on the bed. Finally, he felt Aedan's hand go limp and looked to see that the man was asleep, his features relaxed in sleep, quite unlike the near permanent expression of pain of the past two days.

A barely audible groan escaped the woman to his right. Lenora was no longer casting any magic, but as she turned her face to look at Solas he could see that she looked drained, her face pale with exhaustion. He smiled at her, relief open on his face instead of the usual indifferent mask the others saw: "He is asleep, we did it."

"Good, he should sleep till at least late tomorrow morning. Hopefully, he'll be alive after the Seeker is done asking questions."

"Hopefully, Sister Nightingale will prevent any outright violence. It would be a shame for him to die before we found out if the mark works." Lenora smiled:

"It helps that he still has his soul." – Solas looked confused. "How does that help?"

"Oh, being in possession of your soul is half the battle. That way you can fully concentrate on saving world." Solas wasn't sure how to respond, feeling he was just too tired. He still couldn't resist a question:

"How can you be sure he will save the world?" – Lenora got up slowly, picking up the latest bandages to be cleaned and then walked towards the door.

"Isn't it usually how these things go?" –With that, she pushed the door open and walked out into the night.

Solas was still puzzling over their conversation the next day when the Seeker and two burly Inquisition guards arrived and dragged Aedan towards the dungeon in Haven's chantry.