The Beginning of a New Era

Chapter Seven

Time and Tevinters

Gjalder's head shot up, awake in an instant. Something was wrong.

He sat there in silence, thinking about this feeling he had. He had no clue as to what had caused it, but he knew it was right. Something was wrong. Something that shouldn't be possible, had happened. To the north, he thought. What could it be?

He would have told Ellana, although he was loath to tell her, or anyone else here for that matter, of the things he could do. At least until whatever tried to take his Shouts away had been dealt with.

But Ellana had left, taking Cassandra, The Iron Bull and Varric with her, to speak with the leader of the Rebel Mages in Redcliffe. The 'Inner Circle', as they were called, hoped to use the combined power of hundreds of mages, to channel it through Ellana, and close the Breach.

Gjalder had chosen to stay behind, seeking to better understand the thing. He was certain that it had been what pulled him here, that the energies involved had reached out, to the Void-Beyond he had been journeying through, and thrown him to the ground of this Thedas of theirs, with the strange elves, with the dwarves-who-were-not-Dwemer, with the beast-race that looked like strange orcs.

He got up. He had better things to do than think further on the differences between Thedas and Nirn.

As Gjalder rose from his bedding, he looked around and sighed. The hut that he had been given was so like one of the many outbuildings he'd constructed at his house of Lakeview Manor, small, well built, efficient. He got himself out the door, to a sight not at all like home. A sight of a broken sky.

Without a word he started on the path to the epicenter, what he had been told was called the 'Temple of Sacred Ashes', people parting around him. He was given quite a bit of respect by being one of the few that Ellana brought with her when she went on an outing. Enough that they got out of his way and didn't try to waste his time with pointless chatter when he was out and about.

The walk wasn't long, but neither was it short. It was enough for him to clear his head of the sense of wrongness that still permeated the world around him. He could ignore it, but he couldn't make it go away.

When he arrived at the strange crater, with the red Lyrium crystals striking out of the ground, malevolent energies swirling inside and around them, he paused. Lyrium was such a strange thing. Powerful. Dangerous. It was like physical magic, and anyone who touched the normal variant, which glowed a beautiful, soft, blue, and weren't resistant to its effects – namely the Dwarves and Mages – would face a dire fate.

The red stuff though, that was worse. He'd heard the stories passed around by some of Commander Curly's Templars, of what a handful of the stuff had done in Kirkwall, of the devastation that had been wrought.

No-one knew what would happen if a Mage were to use the red Lyrium instead of the ordinary stuff, but he assumed that the results would be… Less than pleasing, for everyone involved.

Although, he did wonder. According to Curly Cullen, just a few short years ago, all the red Lyrium on the surface could fit in the palm of his hand. And now, it just grew out of the bloody ground, like the spikes in the Deadlands.

He would bet Drakes to doornails that the red stuff and the Breach were connected.

Gjalder stood there, in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes for hours, contemplating what had happened, thinking about how to return to Nirn. When he looked straight at the Breach from here, it was as if something was calling out to him, something that he knew he ought to recognize, but for some reason didn't. It annoyed him greatly.

In the end, he came to the conclusion that simply staring at the damn thing and thinking would get him no further, and decided to follow one of his old 'Rules of Adventuring', namely 'Most problems can be solved with magic'.

He was unsure what to start with though, normally he would start off by Shouting at it, but with his soul feeling as though it was being torn from him whenever he did that…

Except it hadn't always done so here, He had used his Voice to hide his Elder Scroll and had felt none of the repercussions from doing so. Was it because his Bone-Breaker Shout needed that much more power that it started the process, or was it some other, external factor?

He gazed up. Maybe the Breach had more ramifications than he thought.

'To Oblivion with it!' he decided and shouted at the Breach.

"FUS RO DAH!" he roared, as he felt more than saw his power soar to the heavens, his aim as true as ever as it struck the heart of the Breach.

There was no change in him, no feeling as though his soul was being torn. The feeling from the Breach did change, however, and he realized why it felt familiar.

Shouting at the Breach with Unrelenting Force, seemed to have deepened the sensation from the other side, and made it stronger.

It was the Darkness of what-was-beyond, the lack-of-is of that which hid behind the walls of the Immaterium.

But behind it, he could feel the soft glow of Aetherius, and he knew. He knew he could find a way back. He knew he could find a way to restore his power, to wield his Su'um as it was meant to be wielded.

And he hoped. He hoped that he could make it permanent. He hoped he could find a way to travel from Tamriel to Thedas and back again, at will. He liked what he had seen of this land so far, and their magic and history was so very interesting.

It was like when he had first stumbled upon the ruins of Old Ehlnofey, as though a door had been opened, to a library of esoteric knowledge he had never even though of before.

Granted, Old Ehlnofey was just that, old, and the only things that remained made the Atmoran ruins seem young, but still. There had been so much to learn then, and so much to learn now.

And so Gjalder stayed near the Breach for hours, studying it, from the closest position he could find. He threw spells at it, both those of Mundus and those of the Fade, and he tried out his Shouts, seeking to find out if it was simply his first Shout that worked, or all of them.

And it was all of them. As long as he was near the Breach, his power was as pure as it had ever been.

By the time he was finished trying out his Shouts, the sky had grown dark and day was swiftly yielding to the night, so he decided to return to Haven, sleep, grab supplies and come back the next day.

As he walked out of Haven the day after, a small tent packed on his back, a satchel full of food slung across his chest and a bedroll on his shoulders, he didn't notice Solas standing in the shadows of a small copse of trees, watching him with an interested eye.

0o0o0o0

Ellana was angry and confused as she rode into Haven ten days later. Her meeting with the Grand Enchanter had not gone well, mainly due to an interfering Tevinter Magister by the name of Gereon Alexius, who, according to his old protégé, had mangled time itself just to deny her the opportunity to speak with the Rebel Mages.

And on top of that, his volatile experimental magic had somehow altered the Rifts around Redcliffe, making time all wobbly around them, speeding up one moment, slowing down the next.

Alexius had unleashed madness upon the world. And only the Inquisition knew about it and Alexius' former apprentice, Dorian knew. It was up to them – to her – to put a stop to it.

As she turned to go to her cabin, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Cassandra was giving orders to one of the guards posted at the gates.

"Ellana!" she shouted as the guard turned away, "I am calling for a meeting with the Inner Circle. We'll be ready to convene in the chantry in about an hour," the olive-skinned woman finished, looking around for another guard to traumatize, Ellana thought.

But in an hour, they were ready, her friends and leaders of the nascent Inquisition all standing ready around the war table… With one absence.

"Where is Gjalder?" Ellana asked the room, when she didn't see the – rather noticeable – large man anywhere.

"He went to the Breach almost two weeks ago," Solas said, "with all the supplies one could want for a rather long-term stay. I believe he is studying it," he mused.

Ellana groaned. Why they couldn't all be in town at the same time she didn't know.

"Then send a rider out there and get him back here, he's going to want to hear this," she said.

0o0o0o0

It took Gjalder about two hours to return from the temple, the rider giving him his horse, where he was met by a very displeased Ellana. She didn't say anything, but he didn't need an Elder Scroll to foresee that there would be stern words in the future.

So, he followed a silent Ellana through Haven, finally reaching the Chantry.

"Now that we are all, finally, gathered, this," she said, gesturing to a foppish looking man with the same skin tone as an Imperial, "is Dorian, who has some rather interesting things to say."

The story left Gjalder horrified. Headstrong mortals, meddling with time? This had to have been what he had felt to the north.

"Skeever licking Joors! Defiling what is so far beyond them!" he cursed in common Tamrielic, "Ellana, I will be one of your group this time," he said, not taking no for an answer.

"Ah, yes, well, I fear that I'll have to go as well, my dear," the dainty not-Imperial said, "you are unlikely to find another as knowledgeable of Alexius as I."

Ellana sighed, why did she have to do those things? She was only part of it because she'd fallen out of the Breach!

"Fine. Varric you're coming with as well, if I have to go with those two I need someone to distract me on the way."

And that was that.

0o0o0o0

He'd known when he told Ellana that going with her meant going back to the Hinterlands, but consoled himself at the time with the fact that they were going there on horseback this time, easily cutting the travel time down from 'insufferable weeks' to 'annoying days'.

Still, he missed the days when he and Serana, Daughter of Coldharbour and Shezzarine, ran across the reaches of his homeland, both of them capable of running at a steady pace for days and fighting a skirmish at the end.

Not so anymore. He was getting used to it, but sleeping every night still felt odd to him.

More unsettling were the creatures that stalked his dreams, some taking shapes of beautiful women from his past, others of nameless horrors.

And one, always lingering at the edge, once a formless shadow but now growing more and more distinct, a dark, four-legged figure with far too many eyes.

He urged his horse onwards, that he might speak with the flamboyant one. He needed to find a single name to call him by.

"Ah, the esteemed stranger, here to talk to little old me? I'm honored," the man said, his mouth curving up into an easy smile.

"Mhmm. You are a mage, Dorian Pavus, are you not?"

"I am, but why do you ask? It isn't something I hide."

"Because I had a question, one only a mage can answer."

"Well, now you've gone and gotten me intrigued my tall friend! What has you bothered?"

Gjalder rode in silence for a few seconds, trying to put his thoughts in order, before finally speaking.

"Does a mage ever gain control of their dreams? Full control?"

"Some do, yes, but they are few and far between. They are called Dreamers and are incredibly powerful. The greatest magisters in the Imperium were Dreamers, and it was they who brought us to glory in the ancient times."

"And what, then, of the other things in the dreams? The creatures that offer power and wealth, peace and joy, whatever my heart desires? The ones that take the shapes of old friends? Can I force them out somehow?"

That made the man pause. "Spirits are trying to make deals with you whilst you sleep?" he asked.

"Deals and what's worse, aye, but they don't bother me, I've made deals with Clavicus Vile, schemed against Mephala and even managed to wriggle out of a deal with Herma-Mora. What bothers me," he said, closing his eyes and tilting his face upwards, "is the many-eyed shadow that stalks them. It says nothing, does nothing. It is simply there. And I want it gone."

The not-Imperial rode on, his brows drawn together in a frown, his lips pursed.

"I, I don't truly know if you can. Truth be told, I didn't even know you were a mage. Us ordinary mages never gain the form of control that a Dreamer does, but we still learn some things. I believe," he added hesitantly, "that in time, you may be able to force it out, but I do not truly know, I'm sorry."

"Bah," Gjalder said with a wave of his hand, "you have answered my questions, and more besides. The rest is up to me. But I thank you, nonetheless."

"You're welcome," the other man said, his mind obviously wandering elsewhere as Gjalder let his steed fall back so he could think on his issues alone.

His dreams would be made secure. He would see to it.

0o0o0o0

They were finally there. Redcliffe. He had studied the maps of the land, of course, and understood why it was an important defensive fixture, but understanding something from maps and military treatises and seeing it, those were two very different things.

It was a large fortress, set on an island not far from the shore of the township which shared the name of the keep.

And apparently, the only way to the fortress was by crossing a very long bridge.

Except that the Inquisition's spymaster, the lovely sister Nightingale, had adventured in the areas a decade earlier, following the Hero of Ferelden in their quest to save the world.

The township had been assaulted each night by the undead, the ruler, an arl Eamon deathly ill, his son possessed by a powerful demon which was responsible for all that happened. The Hero had discovered a way into the keep without crossing the bridge, by going through an old windmill, of all things.

Wasn't that funny. His own escape route after he had murdered emperor Titus Mede II was through a small windmill, which concealed a tunnel out of the city of Solitude. Small world. Well, worlds.

And now it would be used to infiltrate the place again, by one of the same people. The snake bit its own tail and the cycle continued. Sister Nightingale would take several of her agents with her and subdue the guards in the room where they would meet – Alexius was one who fancied himself important, much more so than any who couldn't wield magic, so it would undoubtedly be in the throne room.

Then, Ellana would tell him to surrender, take the rebel mages, and they would all return to Haven to close the Breach.

Gjalder quickly checked his blade in its sheath. In his experience, things like this never went according to plan.

0o0o0o0

Some snooty looking man was blocking her and her – what, party? Friends? Followers? – path towards Alexius, stating that she, and only she had been invited.

"If they stay, I stay," she told the annoying man, very aware of the two masked guards on his sides, even more so when Gjalder shifted, almost imperceptibly, and said a single word.

"Cultists."

Elgar'nan, why was her life so difficult all of a sudden? One moment she had been the First of her clan, now she was seen as a religious leader – of another faith!

The man waited for a second, then two, then three, before standing aside and letting them pass.

And they walked about ten feet before they came face to face with Alexius who was reclining on the arl's throne.

Why even bother stopping us?

"My lord magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived," the man announced.

"My friend! It is so good to see you again," the magister said as he stood up from his seat, "and your, associates, as well, of course," he added after a small pause, barely hiding his annoyance that she had brought the others.

"I am sure we can find some arrangement that is… equitable, to all parties," he continued.

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" the Grand Enchanter said, coming up from the side.

Where was she hiding?

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives," Alexius replied in a stern voice.

"If the Grand Enchanter wants to be part of these talks, I shall welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition," she quickly intervened, getting a thankful look from her fellow elf, and a dismissive hand wave from Alexius who was sitting down again.

Trying to take authority from a fancy chair, Tevinter?

"The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?"

"I'd much rather discuss your time magic," she said, causing Gjalder to growl approvingly… she thought.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," the magister replied.

"She knows everything, Father," the mans until now silent son explained.

"Oh Felix, what have you done?" the magister sounded so, tired.

"Your son is concerned that you're involved in something terrible, Alexius!"

"So speaks the thief," the man sneered, "do you think you can turn my own son against me?"

He got up, his face heated, "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen Mark, a gift you don't even understand, and you think you're in control?" he ranted, the words coming out quickly now, "You're nothing but a mistake!"

"If you know so much about this Mark on my hand, why don't you enlighten us?" she asked, seeing movement in the shadowed corners of the room, Leliana's men were moving into position, she had to keep his attention.

"It belongs to your betters! You wouldn't even begin to understand its purpose," came the man's angry response.

"Father listen to yourself! Do you know what you sound like?"

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be," came her newest acquaintance's voice.

Where are they coming from? Did he hide in the pillars?

"Dorian," oh, the disappointment was back, "I gave you a chance to be a part of this, you turned me down. The Elder One has power you will not believe, and he will raise the Imperium from its own ashes!"

She saw Gjalder frown out of the corner of her eyes, muttering something in his own language.

"What's better than turning back time?" she asked the room, lifting her arms in a shrug.

"He will make the world bow to mages once more! We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas!" he said, his voice taking on the fire of the devout.

"You can't involve my people in this!" Fiona shouted.

"Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen! How could you support this!" Dorian exclaimed.

She heard a 'thwack!' from behind her and heard a soft 'thud'. She smiled. They were in position.

"Stop it Father! Leave the Venatori, let the southern mages close the Breach and let's go home!"

"No! It is the only way to save you Felix!" Oh. Not faith, hope. His son was sick?

"Save me?" his son said, sounding almost affronted.

"There is a way, the Elder One promised! If I undo the mistake at the Temple -" "I am going to die, Father, you need to accept that!"

But Alexius ignored his son. "Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demands that woman's life!"

Ellana felt no fear. One of them were dead already, her troops in position, the magisters command heralding not his own forces assault, but a series of arrows and thrust daggers, the Tevinters arrayed around the room's columns falling in heaps of tangled limbs.

She couldn't help herself, "Your men are dead, magister," she taunted him.

"No! You are a mistake! You should never have existed! I will not let my work, my sacrifices, be undone by some interloping primitive!" he said, his voice softer than at any point in their conversation, the power of the Fade coming into being around his gauntleted right hand, an strange, square amulet suddenly appearing.

Whatever he was doing, Dorian obviously recognized it, for he threw himself in front of her, the same type of magic coiling around him as he shouted "No!" and sent a bolt of it at Alexius, knocking him back and disturbing his spell.

And then she was falling.

0o0o0o0

She woke to a soft, red light. Red Lyrium had sprouted up in crystals around… wherever she was. A quick look informed her that there was nothing in the room with except for a bundle of clothes on the floor.

"Urrrrghhh," came from the clothes as they rolled over, revealing Dorian on the ground, looking incredibly nauseous.

"Need a hand?" she asked him as he flopped onto his back.

"Remind me," he got out between pants as he reached out for her arm, "never to interrupt hostile time magic again, will you?" he looked around. "Where are we, anyways?"

"How should I know? I only just woke up."

"Hmm, at least we seem to have an exit," he said as he pointed to a ruined doorway.

The two of them went there in silence, both having a hard time comprehending the difference in atmosphere from just before. The whole placed seemed… dead.

After several minutes of wandering around, their only light being conjured fire, they finally found a stairwell that took them to the surface.

It was a world gone mad. The Breach had spread across the sky, the raw wound into the Fade gaping hugely no matter where you looked, unnatural green light having fought off the sun itself.

"What happened here…" Ellana mumbled.

"I think," Dorian started, "I think I know. The amulet Alexius was using, it was one we made together, to help harness temporal energies using magic. I believe that he used it to send us forward, into the future," he said, his olive face unnaturally pale.

"So, what, this is what happens if we fail? We can't let this happen Dorian, we have to find a way back!" Ellana exclaimed.

"Yes, yes, and I think – Yes! I've got it! If we can get our hands on the amulet, I can refocus the magic to bring us to its last use rather than a chosen destination!"

"So now we just have to find it," she replied with a wry smile, his enthusiasm getting to her despite the depressing atmosphere.

"Yes, well, that will be the easy part I believe, time magic has certain imprint to it, and I think I can narrow down its location. As longs as it isn't too far away, that is," he added under his breath.

"Do it then, we need to –"

A voice cut her off, harsh like gravel going through a meat grinder, yet also soft as a whisper, caressing her bones.

"El-la-na," it rumbled through her very being, "I wait. The broken tower," it said, disappearing as suddenly as it came.

"Did you hear that?" she squeaked despite her best effort at controlling her voice.

"Did I hear the voice calling your name then speaking elvish? No, not at all, my dear. What did it say?"

"That it waited in the broken tower," she replied shakily.

"Well, that seems to be where the amulet is as well, so that's something.

It didn't take them long to find the 'broken tower'. It was what remained of the tallest point of the keep, its roof and part of the stonework floating at an angle in the free air.

As they made their way, Ellana couldn't look away from the utter devastation around her. The Breach would do all this if it wasn't stopped.

In the lands beyond, she could see green meteors falling from the sky, tails of fire behind them, impacting the ground as they had when she first woke up with the damned Mark. Only…

The keep itself was free of any sort of danger, something that puzzled her until she saw one of the demons coming straight towards them – and then a bolt of lightning shot out from somewhere in the ruins, destroying the would-be attacker.

When they finally made it to the top of the tower, she didn't know what she expected. Alexius, maybe, sitting there and gloating. Elgar'nan, perhaps, come to give divine advice.

She did not expect an emaciated old man, his clothes sagging around him, sitting in a throne, looking too weak to move.

"Ellana," he croaked out in Elvhen, his voice so weak, "I knew you would come, one day," he got out between coughs. "So, I waited by the Tiid-Ahraan for your return. It has been a long time, fahliil."

It was Gjalder. Speaking perfect Elvhen, save for the words in that strange language of his, the ones that had ripped the bones from a group of bandits.

"How are you here, Gjalder?"

"Tiid bo, Ellana. Time does not sit still."

"I hate to interrupt, but what lovely things are the two of you talking about? The only elvish I speak are a few select curses," the self-deprecating voice of her Tevinter companion came.

"It is Gjalder, Dorian. He says that he has waited here for use. For how long?"

"Lingrah tiid. A century, two? I do not know. Prem. I wait."

"By the Creators…"

"What, Ellana?"

"He, he says that he has waited for us to arrive for at least a century."

"Nobody lives that long, not even the Dalish elves, Ellana, he can't have been here that long," he replied gently.

"Nid joor, alkos. I can. Ellana, listen. I have advice, and a request." Gjalder said as he stared intently at her. She noticed that his silver eyes had given way to the milky white of blindness.

"Advice? What advice?"

"I have the bein kagaav that the mage used. Promise to fulfill my request, and I will tell you all I can."

"I promise, Gjalder."

"Good. Listen. The Orlesian empress will be assassinated, throwing their nation further into civil war. The guardians against disease will summon an army of demons under the control of a madman. You must stop them both. This is what I know. Thun do tiid gron orin zey. I cannot tell you more."

"By the Dread Wolf…"

"What is he saying?"

"Later Dorian!"

"Bloody elves…"

"Gjalder, what was your request?" she asked of him.

"It is simple. I want you to kill me. Release me from this living hell."

"I – Kill you? No! I won't do that Gjalder!" she exclaimed, shocked, a mystified Dorian mouthing 'kill him?' in the background.

"Then you will never return. Tiid bo. Time moves, without me, the amulet will not return you."

"Forgive me on intruding my dears," Dorian cut in, "but you want our dear Herald to kill you to escape this fate, don't you? If we return, none of this will have happened, ergo you won't need to escape it."

"Meyus joor. Time is not a line, Tevinter. Ven ni krent. Ellana, do you remember our talk of the Kel?"

"The Scroll you had? Yes, why?"

"Remember what I said. A road and travelers. All valid. You will leave this path, this cart, this time, but it remains. Free me. Kill me."

"Oh…" she said, crestfallen. She knew she had to do it.

"What is it Ellana?"

"Even if we return to before all of this, this timeline will still exist. Gjalder will still be trapped here."

"What? None of mine or Alexius' research points to anything like that Ellana, time is linear." Dorian defended himself.

"No! You do not know, joor! I am Dov, dii sil vaan nau ven do tiid. I know of what I speak." His voice was still so weak, even when his words shook the world around them. It pained her to her soul.

"I, I will do it, Gjalder, but I have some more questions first," she got out.

"Saag." He demanded.

"From the Breach, I saw demons falling from the sky, like they did when it first opened, raining down on the land around us, but the one that fell here was just destroyed by lightning, from within the castle. Is it something you did?"

"Geh. Dii Thu'um buld lein wah dii fen. Ol raf gesaak, ful drey dii su'um. Yes. I gathered my power for decades and it still left me in this state."

"Damn, it would have been useful," she mumbled.

"Do not fret, fahdon fahliil, when you return, you will seal it."

"You have such faith in me, but I don't know if I can do this!" she shouted at him.

"You can. You will. You must. Only you. Ellana," he hesitated, "tell my counterpart this: Lovok kent viin zeim raf, nunon voth joor vis hi dreh daar. He will know. It will help you."

"Lovok kent viin zeim raf, nunon voth joor vi hi dreh daar. Alright. Dorian, help me remember that, will you?" she said, getting an affirmative nod from her fellow mage.

"Then you must go. Under my clothes, over my heart. That is where the amulet is. Bring it out, close to my head. I must use my su'um to empower it."

She reached into his clothes, noticing again just how withered he was, before taking the amulet and holding it up in front of him. He breathed on it with a soft sigh, and she heard the words "tiid guvok," as the amulet started to glow with the same green light that it had before.

"The other one can use it now. Time for your part Ellana. Krosis. I know this must be hard, but you must steel your heart."

"I will Gjalder. Goodbye." And with that, she drew her knife from its sheath, plunging it into her friend and guardians' heart.

"Zu'u bo wah Sovngarde," he mumbled as what little strength he had left after centuries of isolation and confinement to his throne bled away from the wound.

"Dorian," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes with an angry gesture. He is not gone. They are all waiting back in the throne room. "He said that you can use it now. Let's go home."

0o0o0o0

A swirling vortex threw them back out into the throne room that they had come from.

"You'll have to do better than that," Dorian smirked, looking down at a reeling Alexius.

"Is that the best you've got?" Ellana asked him as he knelt before them.

"You've won," he said, his voice broken, "there is no point in continuing this charade," he spat, as he looked to his son. "Felix…"

"It's going to be alright father," the kind man that had helped them so said.

"You'll die," Alexius replied, the last of his resistance fading.

"Everyone dies."

Alexius spent a moment, then another, looking at his son before he looked over his shoulder at the approaching Inquisition guards, getting up and following them without resistance – or a word.

"Well, I'm glad that's over with," Dorian quipped, about to continue when heavily armored soldiers wearing the colors of the queen of Ferelden marched in, taking place along the pillars.

"Or not," he mumbled.

"Grand Enchanter! We'd like to have words discussing your… abuse of our hospitality!" the queen demanded.

"Your majesty, I…" Fiona started, wringing her hands as she went to stand in front of the angry monarch.

"When the Rebel Mages were offered sanctuary in my realm, they were not granted the right to drive people from their home," the queen interrupted.

"Queen Anora, I assure you; it was never our intention to –" "In light of your actions, Enchantress, good intentions are not enough. You and your followers will leave Ferelden peacefully, or you will be made to."

"But, my queen, we have hundreds in need of protection, where will we go?"

"The Inquisition might be willing to take in the refugees," Ellana cut in, sensing an opportunity, getting a suspicious glare from her fellow elf.

"And what are the terms of this agreement?" she queried.

"Certainly better than anything Alexius would have given you," Dorian mumbled as he walked closer.

"I've known a lot of mages; they can be loyal friends if you let them. Friends that make bad decisions, but still. Loyal." Varric added.

She looked to Gjalder, very aware of his blood on her hands – something he seemed to sense as well, if the way he watched her, like a raptor stalking its prey, was any indication.

"And you?"

"Bah, mages, templars. I do not know enough of your history to vote Ellana. My experience is that people will be people, no matter how you treat them," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"It seems that we have little choice but to accept what you have to offer, Herald," Fiona said, looking almost as broken as Alexius had.

Ellana stood and thought for a moment, knowing that this was her decision, and her alone. She would take her friends advice to heart, but in the end, the choice was hers.

"We would be honored to have you fight as allies at the Inquisitions side," she stated.

"A generous offer, but will the rest of the Inquisition honor it?" Fiona asked.

"The Breach threatens all of Thedas. We cannot afford to be divided now. We can't fight it without you, any chance of success requires your full support," she added emphatically.

"It is a generous offer, one you will not receive from us," Anora added as Fiona looked at her, then Ellana and her companions, before finally staring at the floor.

"We accept. It would be madness not to. I will gather my people and ready them for the journey to Haven. The Breach will be closed, Herald. You will not regret giving us this chance.

0o0o0o0

It was a long, quiet ride back to Haven, what they had seen weighing heavily on both Ellanas and Dorians minds. She finally decided to rip off the bandage and tell Gjalder what had happened.

After she was done, she hesitantly added, "Gjalder, your counterpart, he wanted me to tell you something."

"Mhmm?"

"I don't know what it means, but here goes. Lovok kent viin zeim raf, nunon voth joor vi hi dreh daar. I hope you can use it."

Gjalder looked, well, shocked. As though she had attacked him.

"Dovahzul? Hmm, yes, I see. Thank you, Ellana," he said, turning to look her in the eyes, "This means a lot to me."

So! Chapter seven, after more than half a year since the last update (which was just a 'Hey! My laptop is shagged, sorry!' heh.) and on my story's birthday. *sniff*. They grow up so fast. Heh.

So, uh, some minor retcons, maybe, yes? Not sure. I have a far better idea of where I want the story to go now, even more so than when I started it, so that's nice.

I hope for more regular updates than, you know, there has been, hopefully a minimum of one per month kinda thing, especially as I looked over some of my favourite fics on the site and noticed that a lot of them have chapters with around 5-6k words each. Which this one does. And I think it is a good chapter.

I actually wrote most of this over a week or so (granted it was a week of vacation, but still). Pretty much everything after Haven is October-stuff. The Haven stuff? That took me so long, damn. It sucked.

I hope that my writing skill has improved at least a little from my early chapters – specifically the dialogue, but ehhh. The only practice I've had are other, unpublished fics that I hope/don't hope will ever be public.

Please review the story, criticism regarding grammar and conversational flow is especially welcome, as well as anyone who can give some tips on possessive s's. Because the rules for English and Danish are different there, and I constantly confuse them. Especially when it's been a while since I had to deal with them in a 'It's me using them' setting. Thanks!