Arethin half-woke, and found herself somewhere warm and blessedly dry, wrapped in warm blankets, but she had no idea how she'd gotten there. Confused, she stirred, trying to move, and someone pressed their hands against her shoulders.
“Lie still,” they said firmly, and the familiar Dalish words made her relax.
Someone else spoke. “Here--” someone pressed a cup of something to her lips. “Drink this,” they instructed.
She drank, and found it was water heavily flavored with honey. It soothed her parched mouth and throat and was possibly the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. She tried to move a second time, but the other person pushed her down again.
“Stay still,” the person said, lowering the cup. “You dropped a mountain on your head, we'd all prefer it if you didn't tax yourself.”
With a dull realization, she recognized the voice. “Dorian?” she blinked, and his face swam into view.
“Who better to unfreeze an elfin block of ice?” he asked, and his smile was dizzying.
“Where am I?” Arethin mumbled. She still wanted to try and get to her feet, but the hands on her shoulders stopped her.
“We are somewhere in the Frostbacks, Lavellan,” she looked up, and saw that the hands belonged to Solas.
“Am I dying?” she asked.
He gave her a weak smile. “No, my friend,” he said. “Just very, very cold.”
“Oh. Good.” she closed her eyes, and everything drifted away again. She heard Dorian and Solas talk over her, but their words were muffled.
She woke again, properly at last, and found herself staring at the ceiling of a tent. She sat up, then gasped, absolutely everything hurting, her muscles and her joints screaming at her, even her mark pulsing with a dull pain.
Someone laid a healing hand on her, and the pain eased. She groaned, and looked up at her healer.
“Hello,” said Solas. “I see you have awakened.”
“Hello.” Arethin nodded, and sat up, more slowly this time. “I'm trying.” she rubbed her head. “What's going on?”
“That has yet to be determined.”
“Why? Where am I?”
“The Frostbacks. We have escaped Corypheus' army, but have still not settled.”
“The Deep Roads?” Arethin grimaced and held her side. “We could go there...”
Solas pressed his hand to her, and her pain eased. “That is being debated at the moment.”
“Did everyone make it out?”
“Not enough did.”
She closed her eyes. “Who?”
“Many of the mages, and the Inquisition's soldiers. Many of the soldiers lent by the Dalish and Orzammar.”
“Lavellan?” Cassandra poked her head in the tent. “You're awake.”
Arethin tried to get to her feet, and Solas helped her to stand. Cassandra moved forward, uncertain, and settled for hovering nearby.
“How did I get here?” Arethin asked. “I—the last thing I remember was...”
“A—man named Cole found you on the mountainside,” Cassandra said. She frowned. “I...believe he is a man.”
“You...believe?”
“It is...complicated,” Cassandra sighed.
“Complicated?” Arethin blinked. “Never mind. Explain later. What do we do now?”
“Now, we are trying to decide,” Cassandra sighed. “We could take shelter with Orzammar, of course, and I am sure your people and the dwarves would be accepted, but--”
“The Inquisition, less so,” Arethin groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. “Creators, why does everything hurt?” she muttered to herself.
“A mountain fell on you, my friend.” Solas reminded her.
“Oh. Right.” suddenly, she remembered. “Corypheus,” she exclaimed, grabbing Solas' arm in an iron grip. “The thing at the head of the army--”
“Gone,” he assured her. “Wherever he is, he has not followed us.”
“If you dropped the avalanche on yourself, you have also dropped it on him,” Cassandra said.
“Did you see him?” Arethin asked, looking from Cassandra to Solas. They both shook their heads. Arethin sighed and tilted her head back, then something else occurred to her. “Where is Felassan?”
“He is not here,” Cassandra said. “He is either dead or he has left.”
Arethin worried at her bottom lip. “That is not good.”
“Who is he to you? Lanaya said something about him being—well, she didn't know, for certain--”
“Bad news,” Arethin gritted. She sighed and rubbed her face. “What else?”
“We must have a leader,” Cassandra said.
“A leader?” Arethin looked at her. “What do you mean? What has that to do with anything?”
Cassandra merely looked at her.
“You can't...you can't mean me?”
“Lavellan...we saw the mountain fall, and then you came back,” Cassandra ran a hand over her face. “If the people did not believe you to be chosen before, now they do.”
Arethin blinked at her, then her expression hardened.
“Very well,” she growled. “You want me to steer this aravel? I will do it.” she let go of Solas' arm, but pain and fatigue made her knees buckle, and both he and Cassandra made a grab for her. She found herself supported by both of them. “I do not need to be carried like a fainting lady,” she snarled.
Cassandra heaved a heavy sigh. “Lavellan...you dropped a mountain upon yourself. I believe some weakness is to be expected.”
Arethin glared first at her, then at Solas, then frowned, thinking. “I need to speak with everyone,” she said after a minute. “I am not deciding this by myself.”
Cassandra nodded, and left to gather the others.
Arethin, remembering something important, turned to Solas, again grabbing his arm tightly. “Solas—that—Corypheus thing—it had—an artifact,” she said, struggling to explain what it was that she had seen. “It was linked to the mark on my hand, somehow. But it wasn't—it didn't look like the rest of him, it was different--”
“I could feel the influence of something...unique,” he said, gray eyes darting away from hers, brow furrowed in thought. “Just before the avalanche. It is possible that this artifact of which you speak might be responsible. What did it look like?”
“It was an orb,” she said. “Mostly plain. It was—funny, it was linked to the Fade somehow, like the mark...” she bit her lip. “Like the spell Alexius used on the loyal mages.”
“There are artifacts such as that,” he said. “Used by the ancient elvhen to work magic. If he has one of those...”
The blood drained from her face. “If that thing he uses is elvhen, and people learn—they will find some way to blame us.”
“Then we must ensure he can do little damage,” he said.
There was a strange expression in his eyes that she could not quite place, but when she tried to inquire further about the orb, Cassandra and the others returned.
Cassandra had brought Lanaya, Fiona, Dorian, Vivienne, Mother Giselle, Leliana, Josephine, Barris, Varric, Iron Bull, Sera, and crammed them all into one tent. They all looked varying degrees of miserable. Vivienne's cheeks were windburnt, Varric and Iron Bull were both cut up, and Ser Barris was nursing a broken wrist. Sera's hands were bandaged, as she had sustained some frostbite in the flight from Haven, and she looked miserable and cold.
Arethin looked around at all of them, meeting Lanaya's eyes for a moment.
“Very well,” Arethin said, kneading her temples. “Does anyone have any ideas where we might go?”
Leliana shook her head. “We are too far from Orzammar to make for the Deep Roads,” she sighed.
“If we went into Orlesian territory, we run the risk of running afoul of the civil war,” Barris pointed out.
“Denerim?”
Fiona shook her head. “Too far away,” she said. “We could make for Denerim, of course, Alistair would shelter you, but...”
“But...?
Fiona's eyes flicked to Cassandra.
Arethin sighed. “And what of the Clans?” she asked Lanaya. “Who is close?”
“No one,” Lanaya said. “Many went further north or to the east when the Breach opened.”
“Felassan gave us this map,” Josephine said. She held out a sheaf of damp and careworn parchment, which Arethin grabbed, glad that she had held onto it.
“To that...fortress he mentioned?”
Josephine nodded. “It is much closer than anywhere else,”
“Very true,” Arethin muttered, turning the parchment this way and that as if it could reveal something to her if she just looked at it in a different way. She looked at Lanaya. “Do you think this may be a trap?”
Lanaya narrowed her eyes.
“We can hardly do anything clinging to the mountainside like this.” Josephine pointed out.
“The source is not trustworthy,” Lanaya said.
“And of course, a trickster would wish to play his tricks when people are vulnerable,” Arethin murmured.
“We have precious few options,” Cassandra said. “While we debate the matter, we continue to be in a vulnerable position.”
“Also true,” Arethin said. “Very well--how about a vote. Who wants to head to the fortress?”
“You should be the one to decide,” Mother Giselle spoke up for the first time. Leliana had brought her, but Arethin wasn't really sure why. “You claim that this is not your decision, but much weighs upon you, Herald. The people will look to you, not to all of us.”
Arethin glared at her. “It is not my job to take over for a leader because your people did not want to do it themselves,” she snapped, and glowered at everyone in the room. “Surviving an avalanche is not a qualification for leadership.”
“Why else would you have survived, if not to lead us?” Giselle posited.
“I only returned because someone found me,” Arethin said. “That's luck, plain and simple.”
“You returned from the first rift, unharmed. You come back from the dragon, unharmed.” Giselle spread her hands. “They will look to you, not to the rest of us.”
Arethin shook her head. “Fine,” she bit off her words. “If you refuse to take responsibility for your people, then I will. Do not be disappointed if the results are not what you wanted.”
Giselle folded her sleeves into her habit and said no more.
Arethin shook her head. “We can't go spreading that insanity about me being a Herald, by the way,” she said.
“Why not?” Sera demanded. “You just said you were goin' to be the leader and all--”
“First off, because I am not,” she said. “Secondly, I can't see that going well for the Dalish or anyone else who doesn't follow Andraste--”
“If the Lady of Sorrows can convert a heathen Dalish, then everyone else must have no excuse,” Lanaya murmured.
“Exactly.”
“That is not the issue here,” Cassandra snapped.
“I--” Arethin growled to herself. “Fine. We'll take care of the issue of shelter first. If I hear anyone talking about providence or what have you, you won't like what happens next. Since we've decided I'm in charge, we're going to head for that fortress.”
Making the move was hard, and Arethin's bones and muscles constantly ached. She was exhausted and frequently had to be healed. Her left arm had almost been wrenched from the socket, and her shoulder screamed at her any time she moved to pick something up, so to her chagrin, someone else had to carry her things.
“I say I don't even want to be the leader, but I need someone else to carry my pack,” she confided in Solas at one time. “What a fine example I'm setting.”
“Doing things to care for an injury is not selfish, nor is it egotism,” Solas informed her. “Although you might be setting an example as a martyr.”
She glared at him.
“It is quite difficult to avoid the attentions of those who wish to worship you,” he said, almost apologetically.
Arethin shook her head.
It was another few days before Arethin met her savior, the young man called Cole.
He popped up beside her while she walked, startling her terribly.
“Where did you come from?” she demanded, staring at him. He had seemed to appear from nowhere, and she'd not so much as heard a whisper of sound before he was just at her elbow.
“I was already here,” he said, staring at her with almost luminous blue eyes. “I helped find you.”
“You're Cole?”
Cole was a young man with the proportions of a scarecrow and straw-blond hair to match. His enormous, moon-blue eyes were set in a waxy-pale face, and he stared at her with a strange intensity before hiding his eyes underneath the broad brim of his hat.
“Well, thank you,” she said. “I don't know where I'd be unless you'd found me.”
“You would be dead.”
She tilted her head to the side. “That's true enough,” she agreed. She sensed something strange at the back of her head, as if a spirit or a demon were near. “How did you find me?” she asked.
“I heard you,” he said.
“Heard me?”
He shrugged and ducked his head further. “I hear people's pain and it calls back to me. I want to help.”
His form seemed almost to flicker in her gaze. “You...aren't quite human, are you?” she asked.
“Neither are you.”
“That isn't what I mean, Cole.”
He hunched his shoulders.
“I appreciate that you're here to help,” she said slowly. “But I need to know where you come from.”
“The Spire.”
“The mage Tower?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a mage?”
“No?”
“Not a Templar, surely?”
“No.” Cole's lip curled.
“Cole is a spirit,” Solas came up on Arethin's other side.
“A spirit?” Arethin stared at him. Solas inclined his head.
“His circumstances are...unique.”
“How so?”
“He doesn't know,” Cole said, his tone mournful. “No one does. Pharamond said I'm compassion, but he doesn't know for sure, either.”
“Thus, the unique circumstances,” Solas said, his tone an attempt at being comforting.
“I see,” Arethin said. “Well, either way, I much appreciate the help, Cole.”
“Good. No one would have been happy if you'd died.”
Soon after Arethin met Cole, Cassandra approached her. Arethin was still cold to her, but Cassandra was persistent.
“You were brave,” Cassandra said. “You are brave. A braver woman I have never known.”
“Trying to flatter me, are you?”
“What? No!” Cassandra flushed. “Oh—I am only trying to--” she sighed. “I am sorry. For all that has been done to you. I know that will never change it. I would change it, had I only the means.”
Arethin looked at her, her expression hard. “Do you know what you are wishing?” she asked.
“Yes,” Cassandra nodded. “Your life has been very hard. I would do much to make it easier.”
Arethin's lip curled. “So you think that throwing me in a Tower and never letting me so much as see my family would be...easier?”
“No, that is not what I...” Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated.
“That is what you want for mages, isn't it?”
“I wish for magic and mages to be safe,” Cassandra insisted. “The ruling was harsh—in some cases too harsh--”
Arethin shook her head. “That is utter nonsense. Your ruling killed innocents and children.”
“What would you have me do?” Cassandra demanded. “I wish for people to be safe—but I thought that our laws did that. I do not think such misery as you and the other mages have described is worth it. But what other paths are open to us? We can change what was established, make it better—or it can be torn asunder, with nothing left but chaos.”
Arethin sneered in disgust. “You still don't understand,” she snapped. “I haven't the time to teach you. Perhaps you might ask one of the Grand Enchanter's mages why they rebelled, and listen to them.”
“They are not you,” Cassandra said.
Arethin blinked at her. “Why am I so different?”
“I—you have a different—point of view than many others,” Cassandra said, her eyes darting away from Arethin's.
Arethin raised her eyebrows. “I see. The others are not good enough, then?”
“No,” Cassandra sighed and gritted her teeth. “That is not it.”
“Then listen to them.” Arethin said. “Go ask Lanaya or the Dalish mages about it, if you don't care enough about the Circle mages to do so.”
“The Circle mages are—difficult,” Cassandra said. “They want things that we cannot give them.”
“Such as?”
Cassandra pressed her lips into a hard line. 'They are used to being taken care of,” she said. “Coddled and protected.”
“And whose fault is that?” Arethin shook her head. “You can't force them under your wing and then blame them when that's all they know, Cassandra.”
“If they wish freedom, they must prove themselves worthy of it,” Cassandra argued.
“Why?”
“They are too dangerous not to.”
“Who says?”
“How is someone who can light a fire when angry not dangerous?”
“You can do that too, you just need tinder.”
Cassandra let out an angry huff of breath. “You know what I mean.”
“Cassandra, magic is no different from water or fire, but you don't blame either of them when someone drowns or burns. You don't lock up someone who knows how to build a hearth fire or how to divert a stream.” Arethin looked at her. “I am no different from any of the others.”
Cassandra shook her head. “You are,” she said. “Perhaps you do not see it, but you are.” at Arethin's dark look, she sighed. “Perhaps...there is a common ground to be found with the other mages,” she said at last. “Many of them did not ask for this war. Or any war.”
“No,” Arethin agreed. “No, they didn't.”
The castle was invisible until they crested the mountain, and then it was clear as day. It was built right into the side of the mountain. It was in clear disrepair, even from so far away, with half-collapsed roofs and walls.
“It's very old,” Cole murmured from his place at Arethin's side. She jumped—any time he spoke, she had forgotten he was there. It was apparently simply something that happened to him, or that he made happen, he wasn't sure which.
As they crossed the bridge to get there, a warm breeze wafted from the gate.
Arethin frowned. It was cold on the mountain, snow six feet deep in places. They had been forced to break a trail through the snow to get to the bridge.
They came through the gate, into a massive courtyard overgrown with trees and plants. A huge raspberry thicket obscured an area under the stairs, and ivy clambered up the stone walls. Some of the trees were so large, it was possible that they had been there for hundreds of years, and there was absolutely no snow anywhere to be seen. Instead, the ground was covered with soft grass or moss.
“What...?” Cassandra murmured, looking around.
“Weather spells, I should think,” Dorian examined one of the trees. “Someone was very intent on the cold not reaching this place.”
“Is it safe?” Josephine eyed a bush with some trepidation.
“I don't think we have much to worry about,” Dorian said with a shrug. “Traps usually look more enticing than this.”
“I have never heard of magic like this before.” Cassandra looked around, fascinated.
Arethin snorted, and Solas rolled his eyes. Lanaya just shook her head.
“You haven't heard of it because Circles don't like to acknowledge magic that isn't battle or healing related,” Arethin said.
“An oversimplified understanding, Lavellan,” Vivienne sighed. She gently reached out and touched the branches of an apple tree. “Circles have little need for weather spells except in terms of strict theory.”
“You know of magic like this?” Cassandra asked.
“Of course,” Vivienne raised her eyebrows. “I am none too adept, but--”
Cassandra shook her head and pressed a hand to her mouth, clearly thinking hard.
“None of this is poisonous, as far as I can tell,” Arethin said. “And I do not feel any traps.” she glanced around, and all the mages nodded in agreement.
“I would suggest we not eat any of this,” Vivienne said, picking an apple from the tree and frowning at it. “We have no idea what properties the food might have, being subject to such old magic.”
“Very true,” Arethin agreed.
On the other end of the courtyard there was a set of stairs that lead to an upper courtyard, also crowded with trees and brush. Some of the trees were so huge that they rose up almost to the top of the crumbling wall, and there were tall blackberry bushes here.
“Some bastard really liked gardening,” Sera said. “Looks like a noble garden gone wild.”
“Don't eat anything,” Arethin reminded her, watching her eyeing one of the berry bushes.
“I wasn't!” she snapped, folding her arms. “'s all magic-ey and weird, anyway.”
On the upper courtyard there was another set of steps, these ones leading into the main keep.
Inside the keep, the front hall was huge, the ceiling vanishing high overhead and tall windows set into the far wall. It was clearly built to house a large number of people. The ragged remains of tapestries were on the walls, and there were remnants of rugs on the floor as well. There were doors leading to other rooms on the ground floor, and high overhead, a balcony ran along the inside wall.
“'S nice,” Sera piped up, kicking at a fallen piece of stone. “For a dump, anyway.”
“We'll fix it up,” Dorian assured her. “And quite soon, I hope.”
“It would have to be,” Vivienne said, eyeing some fallen debris with distaste. “This place is not yet livable.”
“Before we do anything, we must address the people,” Josephine came up beside Arethin. Poor Josephine's riding gown was soaking wet and ragged at the hem, and she looked very cold, but fortunately had no signs of frostbite.
“Address them?” Arethin said, her eyes narrowed. “And tell them what, exactly?”
Josephine coughed, and shifted from foot to foot. “Many still consider you their leader, Lavellan. They will look to you.”
“They can look to themselves,” she said.
“Lavellan--”
“Fine,” she growled, going outside. “I'll give them their leader.”
“Lavellan--” Josephine held out a hand, but Arethin brushed her off.
“You might want to have waited a few minutes,” Dorian said.
“It would not have waited,” Josephine hissed, and they all followed at Arethin's heels to see what she did.
Arethin strode out to the balcony. “They want me to tell them something,” she muttered, shaking her head as she surveyed the crowd gathered in the courtyard below. They were indeed majority human, as the Dalish and dwarven forces had taken up in the keep and on the walls, already getting to work “As they wish.”
“Lavellan...” Cassandra cautioned.
“You gave this to me, you will let me do it,” Arethin hissed.
Cassandra looked dubious, but stepped back as Arethin stepped forward.
“Listen to me,” Arethin commanded, and the crowd began to quiet at last, looking up at her. “You who are survivors of Haven—survivors of many wars.” she looked down at them. “Many call me Herald, and proclaim me your leader.” she shook her head. “But I cannot—I will not—be that Herald. I will be the hand of no god. It is a tyrant that you want, but you will not have,” when the crowd began to rumble, she magically amplified her voice to a roar. “In your fear and doubt, you turn to someone you do not even know, and hope that they will succeed where others have fallen. But I will not be that! I will not be your figurehead, your Lady of Sorrows!” she swept her gaze all around, noting the Dalish and dwarves in the crowd who stared up at her.
“I would be no tyrant. I will be no burning lady, no Divine. I would have no conquering army, no one force to rule all. I wish an alliance, I wish cooperation, and I wish for what we all wish--peace, justice, to protect the world that our children will inherit.” she looked down at them.
The crowd murmured to itself, unsure how to take this pronouncement. Some were angry, and began to shout, but their voices were drowned out by hers.
“You shall be saved,” she proclaimed. “But it shall not be in your manner, for you have already decided the manner in which it shall be. This world shall be better, in spite of your efforts. Be glad.”
She turned and walked away, and the crowd began to rumbled.
“That was...not the best speech to give,” Josephine said, looking worriedly at the crowd.
“If you make me your figurehead, it won't end well. I won't be anyone's puppet, anyone's Divine, or anyone's martyr.” Arethin snapped.
“No one was asking that you become any of those things,” Vivienne said.
“Except for all of those people screaming about the Maker choosing me,” Arethin snapped. “No—we need something else.”
"Something else?” Solas raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
“You look like you already have an idea,” Varric said.
“Half of one,” Arethin said, starting to pace. “We create a group where many have voices instead of just one. Instead of one group trying to 'restore order' or take credit for doing something many people did—we should create a formal alliance. Orzammar and the Dalish and Ferelden are already allied together—perhaps we can create something similar.”
The others looked at each other.
“A wise idea,” Lanaya said. “We cannot stop this Corypheus or anything else if we are not cooperating.”
“Exactly.”
“And who would be part of this...organization?” Vivienne asked.
“The Coalition,” Arethin said immediately. “Orzammar. Ferelden. Antiva, Rivain—any power that would be friendly to us and would have a problem with Corypheus.”
“That...does make sense,” Dorian said, exchanging a look with Vivienne. “Maker knows that if the Inquisition or the Dalish or any one group start running around closing rifts and fighting with Venatori, someone will have a problem with it.”
“Someone will have a problem with it no matter what we do,” Cassandra pointed out.
Sera scrunched up her nose. “More big noble pricks,” she said, dismissive. “You can't make it better by just jammin' a bunch of big people together and hoping it'll turn out good.”
They decided to hold off on formalizing anything until they were more firmly established within the fortress. Little could be done until they at least were more settled and had some better communications, at any rate.