Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Suinassa Lavellan was examining maps on the War Table when she felt a tingling in her left hand. At first, she just ignored it – it was hardly the first time that the Anchor had flared up for no apparent reason, especially in the two years since Corypheus’ defeat. But the sensation persisted, and she finally looked down to see if her hand was glowing.

The sight of the stump just below her elbow twisted her stomach. She wasn’t used to that sight. She didn’t want to get used to it, because that meant accepting that her hand was gone. That meant accepting why her hand was gone.

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked. “Are you all right?”

Suinassa’s cheeks flushed as she brought her head up and looked at the other faces in the room. Cullen, Varric, and Leliana all wore expressions of concern. They were the last ones remaining of her Inner Circle, some of her closest friends and most trusted confidantes. And she would be losing Varric and Leliana to their duties soon.

One more thing to feel sad about.

Suinassa opened her mouth to reassure Cassandra, and then closed it again. There was no point to giving a false platitude. “I’m - not sure,” she replied. “Nothing’s wrong, but something is - odd.”

“Just what we need,” Varric muttered. “More weird shit.”

“Perhaps it is some sort of residual magic from the Anchor,” Leliana said thoughtfully.

“Maybe.” Suinassa still had only the faintest idea of the magic behind the Anchor. “It’s like there’s something nearby that’s causing a - resonance.” She shook her head. “I can’t describe it any better than that.”

“Is there any way to tell what is causing this resonance?” Cassandra asked. “Surely it must be something magical, and that narrows things down.”

“Something magical,” Suinassa repeated. “Something with some connection to the Anchor.” What was still at Skyhold that could fit that scenario?

Cullen cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. “Would it help to - I don’t know, walk around? See if the sensation gets stronger in certain places?”

Suinassa and Cassandra turned to look at him, and Cassandra barked out a short laugh. “We are all too used to magical solutions. You are right, Cullen. Let us start walking and see what happens.”

“But we should be armed,” Leliana said. “In case there is trouble.”

Cassandra glared at the former spymaster of the Inquisition. “You will not go anywhere. If there is trouble, we must keep you out of it.”

Leliana looked at Cassandra, blue-grey eyes narrowing in determination. “I do not intend to be coddled,” she said. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself, as you well know.”

“But you are the Divine. We worked too hard to get you there to lose you to – whatever this is,” Cassandra replied.

Suinassa sighed. “Leliana, please, Cassandra is right. In fact, you should stay with her and make sure she is safe, in case this – whatever this is – brings trouble.”

It was Cassandra’s turn to glare, but she had boxed herself into this one - and by the look of resigned chagrin on her face, she knew it. “All right. We will stay here.”

Leliana’s smile bordered on a smirk. “We will see you back here soon, yes?”

“I certainly hope so,” Suinassa replied, nodding to them before she turned to follow Varric and Cullen out the door. She stepped into the Great Hall and paused, trying to figure out which direction she should go. The sensation in her missing left arm pulled her towards the keep’s exit, but when she got closer to the door it tugged her to the right – towards the garden.

“A moment, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, and darted to the left. Suinassa’s guess about his errand was confirmed when he returned with sword and shield, drawing no shortage of stares from the people around them. Suinassa cursed under her breath – she should have thought of that.

“There is no need to worry,” she said, projecting her voice. “We are investigating a potential disturbance. If you are presently armed, you are welcome to join us; if not, please return to whatever you were doing. I am certain that whatever this is, it is nothing the forces of the Inquisition cannot handle.”

There were a few more murmurs and worried glances before the first person turned away, and Suinassa was relieved to see others follow suit. A handful of fighters stepped forward, nodding first to Cullen, then to Suinassa, some adding a murmured “Your Worship”.

Suinassa returned their nods, projecting confidence she did not truly feel. “Thank you all. Please follow me.” She led the group into Skyhold’s garden, where they drew yet more stares. This time, Varric was the one to raise his voice and reassure the crowd, although in a much more flippant manner than Suinassa.

The Anchor pulled Suinassa to the rooms on the right side of the garden, and when she stopped outside of the door leading to the Eluvian, she knew she was in the right spot.

“Of course,” Varric said as they paused outside the door. “That thing interacted with the Eluvians and other weird doorways in the Crossroads.”

“But it never acted like this before,” Suinassa protested. “Even when the Anchor was there.”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right circumstances,” Varric said. “Maybe something special is happening.”

Cullen stepped around her and Varric, raising his shield. “Inquisitor – perhaps you should stay to the back.”

Suinassa felt shame flush bright within her. She hated being reminded that she could no longer adequately defend herself. Bow and arrow required two good hands - most weapons did. With all the resources at her disposal, she would find a way to defend herself again - eventually. And in the meantime, it galled her to put her friends in danger that she could not adequately face herself.

Cullen and some of his men brought their shields out and raised their swords, and Varric slid a bolt into Bianca. Cullen nodded to one of the Inquisition soldiers who was wielding daggers instead of sword and shield, and the woman returned the nod before stepping forward to open the door.

Ilriane Ghilain tumbled through the Eluvian, heart racing, gasping for breath. She brought up her bow with an arrow notched and scanned her surroundings.

She had exited into a small room with a closed door. She resisted the temptation to let her guard down entirely and slump against the wall – or, perhaps, simply sink to the floor. She couldn’t be sure she was safe.

When her breathing had slowed a little, she realized that she heard something outside the room. It sounded like voices. And yes, there were the sound of footsteps, moving towards her.

People. She was someplace that had people.

The door swung open and Ilriane reflexively brought up her bow, ready to fire if necessary. She blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes but made herself keep the bow at the ready.

“Declare yourself!” a man’s voice called – someone at the head of the group that was greeting her. There were several soldiers forming a shield wall, and more armed people behind them. Ilriane squinted and turned her attention to the shields. Her stomach lurched and her arms trembled as she realized what device the shields bore.

“Enathe. The beginning.” Despite the anxiety that she still felt – anxiety that had been her constant companion for the past month – Ilriane laughed. This should have been impossible. She knew that. Yet she knew that it was real. Perhaps she was just too drained to give this situation the incredulity it deserved.

Somehow, she had actually gone back in time to the days of the Second Inquisition.

“Let me through, Cullen,” a female voice said. Ilriane couldn’t see the speaker behind the shield wall.

“Inquisitor-“

“I hardly think that one exhausted woman is a threat to me.”

The man who had demanded Ilriane identify herself scowled, then signaled the others to step aside and let the woman step forward. Ilriane knew her instantly. Blonde hair a few shades darker than her own, cropped to just below her chin. Pointed ears sticking out from that blonde hair, wide green eyes and soft features. Her clothing was perfectly tailored and looked brand new, a sharp contrast to Ilriane’s own ragged appearance. The scrapes on her knees stung with exposure to the gust of wind that had entered the room.

“Greetings,” the woman said. “I’m –“

“Inquisitor Suinassa Lavellan,” Ilriane interrupted her. “I – you have no idea how much of an honor it is to meet you, Inquisitor. My name is Ilriane Ghilain.” She placed the Inquisitor’s companions instantly - the blonde leader of the soldiers was Commander Cullen Rutherford, and the dwarf following closely in the Inquisitor’s footsteps was Viscount Varric Tethras.

“An’eth’ara, asa’var’lin,” Inquisitor Lavellan replied. Her accent was stronger than those Ilriane was used to, seeming almost more melodic. Ilriane’s heart warmed at Inquisitor Lavellan calling her ‘cousin’. She knew she didn’t look Dalish, but of course the Inquisitor would know that Ghilain was a Dalish clan.

“Maker’s Breath, you look exhausted,” Varric Tethras said. “C’mon, Curly. The Inquisitor’s right, she’s no threat. We should let her sit down and have something to eat. I’m sure she has a hell of a story to tell us.”

Commander Rutherford frowned, but then waved at the soldiers besides him. “You two, stay here in case anything else comes through,” he said. “The rest of you are dismissed.”

The soldiers nodded and started to move away as the Commander came to stand beside the Inquisitor. “We will not want to take her through the Great Hall,” he said quietly.

“I agree. She’s been through enough already.” The Inquisitor turned to face Ilriane. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk as though you aren’t here. If you’ll follow me, I’ll find a room where we can sit and talk in privacy.”

“Ma serannas,” Ilriane said, feeling tension drain from her shoulders at last. “I am in your hands, Inquisitor.”

She was rewarded with a comforting smile from the Dalish woman. They were of an age, Ilriane realized suddenly. This whole situation was overwhelming, and there was no way she could forget the import of where she was and who she was with – but Suinassa Lavellan was making her feel comfortable for reasons that had very little to do with her rank and power, and had everything to do with their shared cultural heritage.

Ilriane followed her along the garden walkway, resisting the urge to stop and stare at her surroundings. This was the real Skyhold, a functional fortress - not the museum and cultural center of her time. She had been there once, when she was a child, so her surroundings were starting to seem vaguely familiar.

The Inquisitor stopped and opened one of the doors to her left, poking her head inside before turning and nodding to her companions. “Varric, would you mind bringing Leliana and Cassandra here?”

“Not at all,” Viscount Tethras replied with an answering nod. “I’ll get some food sent here as well.”

Ilriane took the first chair she saw and resisted the urge to simply slump on the table. She placed her bag and bow on the ground carefully and leaned back in the chair. Then she registered who the Inquisitor had sent for. “Divine Victoria and Seeker Pentaghast are here?” Victoria was easily one of the most influential Divines in history, having laid much of the foundation for the Chantry that Ilriane knew.

Inquisitor Lavellan raised an eyebrow, and for a moment Ilriane had to resist the temptation to blurt out What year is it? Then she took another look at the Inquisitor and saw that she was missing a hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. So Leliana had already been named Divine. Creators, but this was going to get confusing.

“Leliana is here to finalize certain arrangements for transferring the Inquisition to Chantry control,” the Inquisitor said.

Ilriane nodded. “Ma serannas,” she said again, though she wasn’t sure if the Inquisitor would understand why she was being thanked. That reply had told her exactly what year it was, which was one less thing to worry about. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes, feeling herself starting to relax. She couldn’t afford to relax too much, though – she was going to have to explain herself as soon as the Divine and Seeker Pentaghast arrived. And there was very little point in trying to demur or lie. She knew from how they had reacted to her entrance that any story she gave them that made her out to be a resident of this time would fall apart the moment someone started scrutinizing it.

So she had to tell the truth. And hope they believed her.

A few moments of silence passed before the door opened again and Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast entered, followed by Divine Victoria and Viscount Tethras.

“So you are the source of the disturbance,” Seeker Pentaghast said, narrowing her eyes at Ilriane.

Ilriane nodded. “I’m – sorry that I caused the disturbance. I had no idea. I didn’t even know where I would –” she paused. “I – I need to back up.” She took a deep breath and met Inquisitor Lavellan’s eyes. If the Inquisitor believed her, accepted her story, the others would follow. “I’m from the future. Two hundred ninety-four years from now, to be exact.”

There was a long moment of stunned silence in response to that, and then -

“Are you shitting me?” Viscount Tethras exclaimed. Ilriane had to smile. She should have known that the author of Hard in Hightown would react in that manner.

Seeker Pentaghast frowned. “That can’t be possible. I know that you traveled to the future, Inquisitor, but that was only one year, and it was undone.”

“Which shows that it can be done, in theory,” Inquisitor Lavellan replied calmly. “But it would take a tremendous amount of magic to travel that far.” She peered at Ilriane intently. “Are you a mage?”

“No, although we had one with us,” Ilriane replied, and she knew she sounded a little defensive. “Melothari Ralaferin. She - she was the last one to die. She was arrogant and stuck up and embodied some of the worst of the Dalish stereotypes, but she - she saved my life.” Ilriane felt the tears prick at the corners of her eyes and lifted a hand to wipe them away.

“So you were somewhere that you felt you needed a mage with you,” Divine Victoria said quietly, bringing Ilriane’s focus back to her present surroundings. “Where was that? And what were you doing there?”

“I’m still stuck on the ‘two hundred ninety-four years in the future’ part,” Tethras said dryly. “I don’t suppose you have any proof of that?”

“To answer your question, Your Perfection, I’m -” Ilriane paused and shook her head. “I was part of an archaeological expedition in the Arbor Wilds.” She reached down into her backpack and rummaged around until she found the book she was looking for, pulling it out and putting it on the table. “And here’s some proof.” I hope.

Tethras picked it up and read the book title aloud. “Translating Ancient Elvhen.” He flipped the book open to the copyright page. “Published 12:29 Reclamation, Denerim University Press.” He ran a finger across the paper. “Good quality. Really good quality. There isn’t any publisher in all of Thedas that could make paper this good.”

“Why Reclamation?” Seeker Pentaghast asked.

“The Innovation Age ended with the rulers of Orlais and Ferelden returning the Dales to the Dalish,” Ilriane explained, looking at the Seeker. “They are an independent nation now. All of the clans live in the Dales, though there are plenty of elves that still live alongside humans.”

“The Dalish … govern themselves?” the Inquisitor said slowly. “The Dales belong to the Dalish?” She shook her head. “You will have to tell me more, later. But right now - I need to know how you came to be here. Perhaps you should start from the beginning. From when your expedition arrived in the Arbor Wilds.”

Ilriane made herself look up from the table, studying their faces in turn - these famous people, the ones who had done great things and shaped the world that Ilriane had grown up in. She let out a long breath. “There were twenty of us, led by Hahren Hellathen Alerion, a Professor of Elvhen Studies at the University of Orlais. We arrived … I think it was a month ago. Three days in, we found the Eluvian. Intact. Hellathen put me to work translating the symbols. Once I got it to work, he decided we should go through. Hellathen decided that he, Melothari, myself and seven others would go through. The plan was - a day out, two days exploring, and then a day back.”

She paused in her recitation of the story when the door opened to admit a woman with a tray. Ilriane’s stomach rumbled at the scents coming from that tray - loud enough for the others to hear, it appeared, because the Inquisitor chuckled. “We can wait,” she said. “Go ahead. I can tell you’re famished.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” Ilriane said gratefully as she picked up a piece of bread and began to eat. She took small, slow bites to go easy on her stomach. It was the first good meal she’d had in weeks.

When she’d eaten about half the food, she looked up at the Inquisitor again. “We found another Eluvian almost immediately, and this one didn’t need activation. Well, of course we were going to go through it. Melothari sent a message back through the first Eluvian to let them know what we planned, and that we were still going to stick to our original schedule.” Ilriane paused. “That … was when everything started to go wrong. As soon as we stepped through that second Eluvian, we were attacked. Melothari said they were demons. There was … a lot of confusion during the fight. When it was all over, two of us were dead. Jongar and Misyl.” She swallowed. “And the Eluvian was broken.”

“Maker’s Breath,” Tethras said quietly. “Merrill took years to repair an Eluvian. I’m guessing you didn’t manage that.”

Ilriane nodded. “We started trying to repair the Eluvian, but the next morning we were attacked again, and we had to run. We left Jongar and Misyl behind. They deserved better, but … we didn’t have a choice. We weren’t going to repair the Eluvian when we were under attack. We hoped that if we left the area alone for a while, the demons would move on.”

“An extremely thin hope,” Rutherford said.

“But all we had,” Ilriane replied, a little defensively.

Rutherford’s face flushed and he looked away. “I’m sorry, my lady. It wasn’t meant as a criticism.”

Ilriane felt her face flushing to match his. She wasn’t used to being called ‘my lady’. She cleared her throat and resumed talking. “We found another Eluvian. Also already activated. We went through. That was when Hellathen thought to have me take down the symbols on the Eluvian, so that we could find our way back if we had to run again.”

“Something tells me that you did,” Seeker Pentaghast said softly.

Ilriane nodded, and for a moment her throat was too tight for her to speak. “Yes,” she said. “It became far too much of a pattern - we’d be attacked, and we’d have to run, and lose people along the way.” The names and faces came to the forefront of her mind, and she had to close her eyes for a moment. Halevune. Isidore. Rasanor. Aviselan. Ebsalom. Their time as a group had been brief, but intense – as tended to happen with such expeditions. She knew their personal stories, their favorites, their goals.

“Eventually,” she said, forcing herself to continue, “it was down to just myself, Melothari, and Hellathen. We ran for as long as we could, after we lost Ebsalom. We only stopped long enough to make copies of the symbols on the Eluvians. When we came up for air … we found ourselves at a kind of nexus. To the best of our knowledge, it’s the center of the Eluvian network. We found a map.”

“A map of the Eluvians?” Inquisitor Lavellan burst out, her blue eyes widening.

Ilriane reached down into her backpack and pulled out the folder that contained her drawings. “I knew it was a map because part of it lined up with my work,” she said. “We worked day and night to copy everything down. We thought we might be able to use it to find a way back.” She sighed again. “But … the time cost us. The demons caught up with us, and Hellathen died.”

This time she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Ilriane turned her head away from Inquisitor Lavellan and found herself looking at Cullen Rutherford instead, which was not any better - so she dropped her gaze to her lap and wiped her tears away with her hand. Ilriane took a few deep breaths and tried to get her emotions under control. When she spoke again, she knew her voice was still shaky, but she had to finish.

“Melothari and I decided that we needed to use the map find a way out of the Eluvians. We tried to find the shortest route. Once we were out, we could find a way to get back to the Arbor Wilds. We knew that if we stayed, we would die like the others.” What little control Ilriane had managed to get back in her voice vanished with that statement. She took another deep breath. She had to finish this.

“We were on our way towards an exit when we were attacked. Again.” Ilriane swallowed. “She … she told me to run ahead. That she could buy me time. That it was better if at least one of us got away. I … she left me no choice. I ran. I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for leaving her behind to die.”

“She made her choice,” the Seeker said firmly. “You must honor that. Whether you think it was the right decision or not. Anything else will be a disservice to her memory.”

“I hope one day I’ll be able to do that,” Ilriane replied. “Anyway, I … I ran. I tried to follow the path we had planned out, but I made a wrong turn, somewhere. I was just about to give up when someone found me. He directed me to an Eluvian. Said it would take me to Enathe, the beginning - that I would be safe there.” She saw the startled expressions on their faces and laughed quietly. “I couldn’t believe it either. All this time with only demons for company, and a bald elf just shows up out of nowhere to give me a way out?”

“Bald?” Inquisitor Lavellan burst out. Ilriane focused on her, as did the others. Lavellan was gripping the edge of the chair nearest her with white knuckles on her remaining hand, all the color gone from her face. “What else can you tell me about him? What was he wearing? What did he say?”

Ilriane had no idea why the Inquisitor was acting this way, but she decided it was better not to ask. “I can show you what he looked like,” she said, grabbing her sketchbook and pencil and flipping to a blank page. For a few moments the only sound was the scratch of pencil on paper as she drew the likeness of the elf who had helped her. She would never forget his face. She hoped she might have the chance to thank him, one day.

Almost as an afterthought, she included the symbols that had been on the side of the Eluvian - the one that had brought her here. It seemed appropriate and took up only a few more seconds, although she could feel Inquisitor Lavellan’s intense, demanding stare.

When she was finished, she handed it to the Inquisitor and tried not to dwell on how sloppy it was. Inquisitor Lavellan took the page in her right hand and stared at it for a long moment. “Solas,” she said finally, her voice nearly as shaky as Ilriane’s. “Solas helped you.”

Chapter Text

Suinassa’s world had narrowed to the picture that she held in her right hand, which was trembling slightly. Solas had helped this strange young woman from three Ages in the future. Solas had directed her to Skyhold. To Suinassa.

“He’s real? Solas is real?” Ilriane said. The words broke Suinassa’s reverie and she turned a sharp look on the stranger. It must have been sharper than she intended, because the other woman’s face turned pale and she started to stammer. “I mean - I’m sorry, Inquisitor, it’s just that - everyone else around you has a documented history, both before and after the Inquisition. But Solas only appears in the period of the Second Inquisition’s dominance over eastern Orlais and western Ferelden. An apostate who channeled previously unseen magic. Scholars have been arguing over his existence for years.”

“He’s real,” Suinassa said coldly. “He’s also Fen’Harel.”

She regretted her callous manner instantly, as she watched the color that had been returning to Ilriane’s face vanish all over again. “Creators,” Ilriane said. “The actual Dread Wolf. And he was … part of your circle.”

“You’re half Dalish, aren’t you?” Suinassa asked gently, trying to repair some of the damage she had just done. “Your last name is Ghilain, and you speak Elvhen better than I do.”

Ilriane nodded. “Yes. My father is Dalish. He’s the one that inspired me to become an expert in the language.”

“Another thing I’d like to hear more about later,” Suinassa said, smiling softly.

Cassandra cleared her throat. “So. Solas directed you here. For what reason?”

“And when?” Varric asked, placing one elbow on the table and leaning forward. “Was it in your present, or ours?”

Ilriane frowned. “I don’t know. The first time I knew it was the past was when I saw you, Inquisitor.”

“No glowing green vortex that sucked you up and then spat you out again?”

“No,” Ilriane replied, chuckling softly. “Is that how the spell usually works?”

“Spell,” Cassandra said. “We have been overlooking the obvious. It is a spell that was needed, and the previous instance of time travel was fueled by the Breach.”

Suinassa’s stomach lurched again. “Which was caused by Solas’ orb. So … he has to have been the one who worked the magic to send you here.” She paused. “But … why?”

“The best way to find that out is to ask him,” Cullen said. “This map of the Eluvians might help us with that. We need to figure out how accurate it is. Lace Harding has been chafing at the bit for something interesting to do.”

“And there’s more to the map that I haven’t decoded,” Ilriane said. She sounded more confident, almost energetic. “If the Eluvians are the way to find him, then I’ll do everything to help you. It sounds like he’s the only one who can send me back.”

“Good.” Suinassa looked over her shoulder at the window, noting the position of the sun. “Let’s see if we can get Harding on her way tomorrow morning. Cullen, bring her here. Cassandra, check with Ser Morris to see how many people we can send out for a week.”

They both nodded and turned to leave. Once the door had closed, Suinassa turned her attention back to Ilriane. “Tell me more about the Reclamation,” she said to the other woman. Once again, it came out more sharply than she’d intended, and she dropped her gaze. “Please,” Suinassa added.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ilriane give a small nod, and Suinassa lifted her head back up to examine the other woman as she spoke. “Normally, I’d say that it started with the actions after the Fifth Blight in the Dragon Age, but …” Ilriane’s gaze turned to Leliana. “You were actually there.” Her voice held a touch of awe. “You knew - you know Hareas Mahariel. You were there when King Alistair and Queen Anora granted the Dalish their own land on his request.” She turned back to Suinassa. “And you were responsible for reconciling Briala and Empress Celene. And …” she trailed off, then swallowed and continued speaking. “Both of you - along with those rulers that you know and helped - will do more. And that starts to build an atmosphere of tolerance, of willingness to view the Dalish as their own nation. Slowly but surely, the Dalish gained a voice, and the last act of the Innovation Age is the joint effort of Orlais and Ferelden that returns the entirety of the Dales to the elves.”

“It sounds like a dream,” Suinassa said quietly, remembering her time with clan Lavellan in the Free Marches. Remembering what happened with Duke Wycome and how close her clan had been to annihilation. “To have our homeland back, to govern ourselves…”

“It’s still over two hundred years away, Inquisitor, and nearly a thousand since the Exalted March began in the first place,” Ilriane said, her voice equally soft. “And it was hardly a universally welcomed move. Some of the clans have not moved back to the Dales, and there are still elves that choose to live among humans.”

“Like your father,” Leliana said, one hand resting thoughtfully on her chin as she looked at Ilriane.

“He’s still Dalish at heart,” Ilriane replied. “He’s happy living in Denerim and working at the University, but he doesn’t feel like he has anything in common with the elves that live in alienages. And he made sure that we - my brother and I - were exposed to the Dalish culture from an early age. We always visited Ghilain in the summer.”

“How is it, exactly, that the clans are governed?” Suinassa asked. “Is it a council of Keepers?”

Ilriane shook her head. “The Keepers still govern each individual clan. For the nation of the Dales, there’s a Council, made up of two representatives from each clan. Any Council member can Speak for the clans when necessary. When dealing with other nations, for example.”

“Which clans live in the Dales?”

“Ghilain, obviously. Lavellan, too.” Ilriane smiled at Suinassa, who returned the smile without hesitation. “Alerion, Ralaferin, Tillahnnen, and Vimehn. Other clans have expressed their intention to return to the Dales. It will probably be another generation or so before it’s all sorted out. Before the Council becomes a larger government that can handle the same things as Ferelden and Orlais.”

“Larger governments aren’t always better,” Varric commented.

“Says the man who constantly complains about his responsibilities as Viscount of Kirkwall,” Suinassa countered dryly.

“Exactly my point! It’s much better to have one person making the decisions, and one person carrying them out.”

“I notice you put some separation between the person making them and the person carrying them out,” Leliana noted, shaking her head at Varric. “I pity your Seneschal.”

“He asked for it,” Varric said. “Besides, he enjoys harassing me.”

Suinassa traded an amused grin with Leliana before she turned her attention back to Ilriane. “What are the other consequences of what we’ve done - the Inquisition, and Leliana as Divine?”

“Well, as you can imagine, there’s a lot that you influence,” Ilriane said. “The mages are allowed to remain free, although not all of them choose that - your friend Vivienne leads those that wish for a return to the Circles. Melothari - the mage I mentioned before - chose to leave her clan and be trained at one of the Mage Colleges. I think it was so she could learn more than she would have among the Dalish, although she never said as much to me. The fact that she had that choice, and that she was able to return to the Dales later - that is your doing, Your Perfection.”

“Good.” Leliana was clearly pleased by this news. “And the rest? Easing restrictions on priests? Being more welcoming?”

“They stick,” Ilriane confirmed. “Not without some resistance, though.”

“Naturally,” Leliana said. “I did not expect it to be easy.”

Ilriane looked down at her hands, and then back up at Suinassa. “I know that you have plenty of questions, and I do intend to answer them. But - there’s some things that I don’t understand. Not just academic things that everyone’s been discussing, but things that seem to be relevant now.”

“Let me guess - about Solas?” Varric grinned. “I’m more than a little confused about Chuckles myself.”

“You said that he’s really the Dread Wolf. And that he built the Eluvians. History says that he - that you and he -“ Ilriane trailed off, cheeks flushing.

“Yes. I love him.” Suinassa looked away. “Even knowing the truth - knowing who he is, and what he did - I still love him.”

Ilriane waited a few minutes before she spoke again. “What is he trying to do now? Something drastic. Something you need to stop.”

“He’s trying to tear down the Veil and remake Arlathan,” Suinassa said. “Which will free the other Creators - which is why he built the Veil in the first place.”

Ilriane blinked. “What?”

“Told you it’s confusing,” Varric commented.

“What - but - won’t that destroy - uh, everything?” Ilriane asked, looking between the three of them.

Suinassa sighed. “He wants his world back. At any cost.”

“I - okay. I mean, I always knew the Creators played by their own rules.” Ilriane ran a hand over her book. “And I understand the desire to get your world back. This is fascinating, and exciting - but - no offense, Inquisitor, I don’t really want to stay here permanently.”

“No offense taken, asa’var’lin,” Suinassa said warmly. “I do not believe I would care to find myself stuck three hundred years in the past. I’ll help you get home.”

The door opened, and they turned to see Cullen leading Lace Harding inside. “You should get some rest,” Suinassa said to Ilriane. “Varric, could you show her to a room, and then come back here?”

“Sure thing,” Varric replied, starting towards the door.

Ilriane grabbed her bag from where it rested on the floor and moved to follow him. Before she got to the door, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Thank you, Inquisitor. For believing me.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Suinassa said. “You’ll be here for a week - and there’s so much more I want to ask you.”

“I could say the same thing,” Ilriane replied. “Remember, I’m an archaeologist. I try to piece together the past. Now I have a chance to actually observe it.” She grinned. “Even if I can never tell anyone what I find … well, I’ll know.”

Suinassa laughed softly. “I believe I know exactly what you mean.”

As Ilriane and Varric left the room, Suinassa turned to Lace Harding. “I hear you’re looking for an adventure. I believe I have one for you.”

Harding grinned. “Good. Where am I heading?”

Suinassa beckoned her over and began to explain.

One week for Harding and her fellow scouts to explore the Crossroads and verify part of Ilriane’s map. One week for Ilriane to work at decoding the rest of it, along with Suinassa Lavellan, Varric Tethras, and a handful of other people at Skyhold that Ilriane couldn’t immediately place. Sometimes she felt guilty at not knowing their names, as though the fact that none of them made it into the history books about this time period was somehow her fault.

One week spent holed up in a quiet room, papers strewn across the table and books stacked in corners, the hours passing with little notice – an environment that reminded her strongly of her days as a student at Denerim University, with the main difference being the servants who brought them food and then removed the empty plates, lit the candles when the sun started to set and then replaced them when they had burned down hours later.

One week that Varric insisted not be spent completely holed up in that room. Where he took her around Skyhold and introduced her to still more people whose names Ilriane had never heard. She walked the battlements and stopped to look out at the mountains, inhaling the cold air and feeling exhilarated at the natural beauty around her. She sat and sketched those views, knowing that she would never have this opportunity again. She went to the stables and met the odd beasts that the Inquisitor had tamed and brought back to Skyhold.

One week to get to know the Inquisitor, to stop feeling awed by her. To start calling her Suinassa instead of ‘Inquisitor Lavellan’. To trade stories about the Dalish during the breaks – comparing knowledge, noting similarities, discussing differences. To start treating her with familiarity and warmth, as though she were one of Ilriane’s cousins from clan Ghilain. To see that warmth returned, to hear Suinassa exclaim how good it was to have another Dalish around her.

One week – that passed both too quickly, and not quickly enough.

“Here’s what we were able to verify,” Harding said, pointing to a light line on the map of the Eluvians. “Everything inside this circle.” She stood next to the table that Ilriane had been using all week. Cullen Rutherford and Cassandra Pentaghast were on either side of her, and Ilriane stood next to Suinassa on the opposite side of the table. Varric was at the end of the table closest to the door, with Divine Victoria and Ambassador Josephine Montilyet at the other. Unlike when Ilriane had arrived, Harding had been permitted to eat before coming in to debrief the senior Inquisition members. “You’ll notice that it also connects to the portion of the network you explored from Halamshiral, Inquisitor.”

“And we’ve decoded much of the rest in the week you’ve been out,” Suinassa said, nodding approvingly at Harding. “Did you see any signs of patrols?”

Harding shook her head. “Nothing. It’s likely we didn’t get close enough to wherever Solas has his base of operations.”

“That narrows it down,” Cullen said. “It means he’s likely somewhere in this area.” He pointed to a cluster of Eluvians in the top right corner of the map. “Though that’s still a fair bit of ground to cover, and we don’t have the manpower we did even a few months ago.”

“Inquisitor, I must ask – what is our goal here?” Cassandra’s voice was even, but her expression showed worry.

“We stop Solas,” Suinassa said. Ilriane saw the tightness in her face, the tension in how she gripped the wooden table.

“Yes, but –“ Cassandra sighed. “I do not wish to be the one to say it, but it appears I must. If he cannot be reasoned with, then it may be that killing him will be the only way to stop him.”

“We might not even find him,” Cullen added. “It’s entirely possible that we’ll encounter a patrol, and one of them will run back to tell Solas – who will move his base of operations.”

“If he has to run from us, that’s time he’s not spending trying to tear down the Veil,” Suinassa said, her voice still tight with anxiety. “If we show that we’ve figured out the Eluvians, he might be less willing to use them. This will disrupt his operation even if we don’t find him.” She straightened up and looked Cassandra in the eyes. “But I think we will find him. I think that once he learns I am there, he won’t be able to resist showing himself. I know I couldn’t resist that temptation, even knowing that we – that we oppose each other now.”

“And if there is a shot at him?” Cassandra asked. “If there is a chance to kill him? Will you give that order, Inquisitor?”

Suinassa looked down at the floor, her body trembling. “I can’t,” she said after a few long moments of silence. “I can’t give that order.”

“I don’t think we should, anyway,” Varric said. “Chuckles is practically a god now, as terrifying as that is. Don’t you remember those statues we saw, Seeker? The qunari that he turned to stone?”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, one that she made more frequently around Varric than anyone else. “Then how do you suggest we stop him?”

“We use the most potent weapon there is,” Varric replied.

“Out with it, dwarf!”

“Words, Seeker,” Varric said, folding his arms across his chest. “We use words.”

Cassandra threw her hands up in the air and turned away from him. “Why am I not surprised?”

Varric sighed. “Hear me out. Chuckles wants his world back. A world where the elves are masters of their own destiny, right?” He turned to look at Ilriane. “Which sounds an awful lot like this Reclamation of yours.”

“He also wishes to tear down the Veil,” Cassandra replied tartly. “I do not think that has happened in Ilriane’s time.”

Ilriane chuckled softly. “Definitely not.”

“Still, Varric may have a point,” Divine Victoria said. Ilriane couldn’t think of her as anything else, despite the fact that Suinassa still called her ‘Leliana’. “If he tears down the Veil, he will have to deal with the other Evanuris, who have every reason to hate him. He does not truly wish to destroy us – he merely sees it as an unavoidable consequence of returning his people to their former glory.”

“Come on, Seeker, we have to at least try.” Varric reached for Cassandra’s arm, but pulled back before he actually touched her. “You know it will break the Inquisitor’s heart if we have to kill him. And you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t regret it. He was our friend.”

“Was, Varric.” Cassandra’s shoulders heaved as she sighed. “But I suppose you are right. We have to try.”

Suinassa straightened herself up. “Then this is the plan.” She pulled the map of the Eluvians towards her and pointed to one of them. “We all go through to this point. When we meet with resistance, Cullen will lead our forces in engaging them. I’ll lead a smaller group deeper into the Eluvians to find Solas if he isn’t with the main group.” She looked up from the map. “Ilriane, Varric, and Cassandra will be with me, and we should have at least one mage. Cullen, who do we have?”

Cullen ran a hand through his hair in thought, a gesture Ilriane had seen him use before. “I’d suggest either Rion or Sidony.”

“Rion,” Suinassa said decisively. “He can throw up a wall of fire to slow or stop enemies if necessary.”

“I’ll let him know he’ll be reporting directly to you,” Cullen said, nodding.

Suinassa returned the nod and looked back down at the map. “If you start to get overrun, retreat. This isn’t an all-out assault. Make sure you have multiple copies of the Eluvian map and the keys, in case you need to split further.” She bit her lip. “I’d like to leave as soon as possible. Is two days enough time for you, Cullen?”

Cullen let out a breath. “Cutting it close, but I understand your desire to move quickly. I’ll make it happen.”

“I will help you,” Cassandra said. “It might be good for you to work with Ilriane on the maps, so that you can be sure you understand it.”

Ilriane looked at the man across the table from her, Commander of the Inquisition’s forces, and tried not to fidget under his unexpectedly intense gaze. Besides Harding, he was the person in this room that Ilriane had interacted least with. Josephine Montilyet had come to visit them multiple times during the past week – ostensibly to see if there was anything she needed to procure for their work. But she had been just as eager as all the others to ask questions about Ilriane’s life – to hear more about the future.

Cullen had visited too, but infrequently, and mostly to give reports to Suinassa Lavellan – and while he’d heard some of her stories, he hadn’t asked any questions himself. Ilriane wondered why, but hadn’t wanted to ask anyone about it.

“If Ilriane is willing,” Cullen said, still meeting her eyes.

“Of course,” Ilriane said quickly, not wanting to show her discomfort. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“Then we all know what we have to do,” Suinassa said. She lifted her head up and looked at each of them in turn. “But there’s no point in getting started tonight. Take this chance to get a good night’s sleep. In a few days, you won’t have that option.”

Chapter Text

It took them three days to travel from Skyhold to the area of the Crossroads that they hoped to find Solas in, and that was mostly because of the sheer number of people traveling with them. Suinassa knew that the slow pace was unavoidable, but there were times when she longed to run ahead, to find Solas and once more beg him to stop this.

She covered her impatience by working to master the prosthesis Dagna had given her before they left Skyhold. It was a cleverly crafted hook, thin and specially designed to hold the end of her bow in place while her right hand drew the string back. Dagna had also presented her with a new bow that had been designed around the hook. Suinassa had hugged the clever dwarf as best she could with only one arm, the knowledge that she could properly defend herself again lifting an enormous weight off her chest.

Ilriane was helping her with correcting her form, when she wasn’t needed to help guide them through the Eluvians. Like Suinassa, she had mastered the bow and arrow at a young age, although she hadn’t used the skills as much until she began working as a field archaeologist. “You have to be able to defend yourself out in the field,” she’d said. “Demonstrating my skill with a bow has been part of every single job interview I’ve had.”

Suinassa had tried to keep the fact that Ilriane was from the future secret, but inevitably word got out. The first day of travel had been filled with people trying to intercept Ilriane and question her. As soon as Suinassa had realized that was happening, she’d had a quiet word with Cullen, Varric, and Cassandra – and the four of them had kept Ilriane ‘busy’ the rest of the day. When they camped that evening, Ilriane had addressed the entire expedition and given them the information she’d given Suinassa and the others on the first day she’d arrived. The continued friendly relations between Orlais and Ferelden. The work at the end of the Innovation Age to return the Dales to the Dalish. Suinassa and Cassandra had spent a portion of the afternoon coaching Ilriane on some vague statements that would appease the individual members of the expedition – how the great deeds of the Inquisition were remembered with pride; how all their names had been dutifully recorded and were preserved for the ages. 


It reminded Suinassa of her early days as Inquisitor, when Cassandra and Leliana had coached her in public speaking, because what did a simple Dalish hunter know about inspirational speeches?

The puffed-up speech had done its job, much to everyone’s relief. Suinassa could tell that Ilriane wasn’t used to being the center of attention and wanted to minimize the stress the other woman was under. Ilriane was the most important person on this expedition, aside from Suinassa herself.

The start of the third day saw them breaking camp and preparing to go through another Eluvian. They were at the outer edge of the unknown area - the area they all thought Solas must have his base in. Rion, the young Elementalist, came to take his place by Suinassa’s side as Cullen selected a pair of scouts to be the first ones through this Eluvian.

After a few minutes, one of the scouts poked his head back through the Eluvian and gave the all-clear signal, before vanishing into the mirror once more. The rest of them lined up and began the slow process of moving a small army through a portal that would take only two at a time. Suinassa reminded herself that this was a good thing - restricting the number of hostile invaders they might have to deal with, if Solas decided to invade Skyhold.

How ironic that would be, since he had lead them to it in the first place.

Suinassa and Rion went through in the middle of the group, right after Cassandra and Ilriane. When they had passed through, they stepped to the side to clear the way for Varric and Cullen. The scenery was starting to look familiar to Suinassa - the gray rock of the distant mountains only partially covered by green trees; short yellow-green grass that allowed you to see the rocks before you stepped on them; the short alpine plants off to the side of the paths that lead to a small castle. The morning sunlight seemed to make the red flowers ahead glow. The area was beautiful, and Suinassa had one of Ilriane’s drawings tucked in her bag so that she would remember what it looked like even when they were back at Skyhold.

The sound of an arrow slicing through the air broke Suinassa’s reverie. A heartbeat later she felt the tingle of Rion’s barrier settle over her, and she raised her bow and looked at the castle in front of them - the most logical place for the archer to be.

“So, we’ve found them,” Cassandra said, coming to stand on the other side of Suinassa. Ilriane and Varric followed closely on her heels, both of them with their bows at the ready.

“We knew it was going to happen eventually,” Suinassa said. She heard Cullen shouting orders to the army and was grateful, once again, that she had him as her Commander. “Are we all ready?”

She saw them all nod, and closed her eyes, thinking back to the days she had spent stalking silently through the wilderness in the Free Marches, blending in with the foliage, effectively invisible to the foolish shems that invaded Lavellan territory…

Suinassa opened her eyes and began to walk forward, the other four following closely at her heels. More archers had appeared in the windows of the castle ahead, and Cullen’s soldiers raised their shields to block their arrows. But no one fired at Suinassa’s group. No one seemed to notice them in the least as they moved forward, as they found a side door into the castle and slipped inside.

As they had discussed, Cassandra took the lead with Rion a half-step behind her, Suinassa and Ilriane behind them and Varric keeping an eye on their rear. They had entered a few other castles in search of the next Eluvian, and found that they tended to be on the ground floor or in the basement. By sticking close to the walls, moving slowly, they were able to bypass the forces that ran forward to join the battle.

Cassandra poked her head around a corner and then withdrew it. “The Eluvian is ahead,” she said quietly. “There are still elves coming out of it.”

“So this isn’t his main base,” Varric said. “How do we get past them?”

“We wait.” Suinassa didn’t like it, but she also didn’t see a better option. “We wait until the Eluvian isn’t being used, and then we run through. At least we don’t have to activate it.”

“I - I might be able to shut it down, when we go through,” Ilriane said.

“Not worth it,” Suinassa replied. “They obviously know how to open it, and that’s time we can’t really afford to spend.”

Ilriane nodded, and the group fell silent once more as they waited in the shadows. Finally, Cassandra stepped forward, the others following close behind her - moving quickly to reach the glowing Eluvian ahead of them.

“Same order as we’re currently in,” Suinassa said. Cassandra and Rion stepped forward, Cassandra with her blade raised, Rion muttering the beginnings of a spell under his breath, and then they walked through the Eluvian.

“I’ll go with Varric,” Ilriane said. “We’ll be less exposed that way.”

Suinassa nodded and stepped through the Eluvian. She stepped into another building, the surroundings similar to the castle they had just left. She felt exposed in such a large room, the arched ceiling high above her, and she hurried to stand by Cassandra and Rion.

When Ilriane and Varric came through, the five of them started moving forward again. “I believe this is where those fighters were stationed,” Cassandra said. “We must assume that someone went through the Elvuian in the other direction to call for more. We may have to fight.”

“Then let’s move quickly,” Suinassa said. “We have the advantage of surprise, so we need to use that as long as possible.” She looked at Rion. “Cast a barrier as soon as you see anyone coming for us.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Rion replied, and started forward alongside Cassandra, the others close behind. A few minutes later, they heard footsteps behind them - someone running rapidly down the path that they had just taken. Cassandra hissed and gestured them all into a corner, sword bared in case they were discovered.

A young elf raced past them, not paying attention to his surroundings. “He’s probably heading for the Eluvian,” Ilriane said under her breath.

Cassandra nodded and waited a few more moments to let him get ahead, then they started after him. The elf lead them to a set of stairs and then down to a basement, and - as Suinassa had hoped - to an activated Eluvian. Before he could step through, Varric released a bolt from Bianca, piercing the scout through the heart. He stumbled, then fell to the ground in front of the Eluvian.

“You … killed him,” Ilriane said, the blood draining from her face.

“Well, there was no point in letting him send for reinforcements,” Varric said. Then he looked at her and twisted his face into a rueful expression. “Andraste’s ass, that’s right. You learned how to shoot to kill animals.”

“Bears, wolves, wyverns,” Ilriane said. “Not … not people.”

Suinassa cursed. They didn’t have time for Ilriane to be traumatized by seeing someone die by a friend’s hand. “You have to be strong,” she said. “Like when you were running from the demons. Freak out about this later.”

“Mythal shelter me,” Ilriane murmured, which made Suinassa wince, remembering just who Mythal was.

“We must go,” Cassandra said, and didn’t wait for Ilriane’s response before stepping over the dead elf into the Eluvian. Rion hurried to catch up.

Varric clapped a hand on Ilriane’s shoulder. “You’ll be all right. Remember, this is all to get you home so you don’t have to deal with this shit again.”

“Right,” Ilriane muttered. “Right.” She took a deep breath and stepped around the dead elf before passing through the Eluvian.

“Poor kid,” Varric said quietly, and then he and Suinassa followed her. They exited into another room, without any sentries by the Eluvian. Cassandra gestured them forward, and they stalked silently through the halls.

After a couple of turns, Rion halted. “Someone’s ahead,” he hissed, and they all stopped behind him. Voices drifted towards them, quietly at first, and then louder.

“ … they’re holding us off, Dread Wolf,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

Dread Wolf. Solas.

“I am not surprised, though I would like to know how they found us,” Solas replied. The sound of his voice made Suinassa’s heart clench as though it was caught in a trap, beating painfully in her chest.

“If we take prisoners, we can ask them.” The other male voice paused. “Do you want us to take prisoners?”

“There are those that you are not permitted to harm,” Solas said, his voice as hard as Suinassa had ever heard it. “You recall who they are.”

Suinassa heard the other man’s nervous swallow before he spoke again. “The Seeker. Commander Cullen. The one-eyed qunari. The dwarf with the crossbow. The Tevinter mage. The … the Inquisitor.”

“Excellent. Then I charge you to run ahead and see that your fellow warriors remember that.”

The five of them flattened themselves against the wall as the terrified elf ran past. Suinassa heard Solas moving in their direction, slowly, halting down the hall from them. “You might as well show yourselves,” Solas said calmly. “I know that you are there. If you come out now, I will show mercy - but if you force me to fight, I cannot make that same guarantee.”

Cassandra, Varric, and Rion all looked at Suinassa. “Inquisitor?” Cassandra said, barely a whisper.

Suinassa took a deep breath and stepped around the corner, holding her bow up, feeling her right arm trembling. She looked at him, wearing the wolf pelt that she’d seen him in before - standing tall and proud as she had rarely seen him do while he was part of the Inquisition. Their eyes met, and the pride on his face softened.

“Suinassa,” he said quietly. “Vhenan, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Suinassa replied, as the others came out from around the corner.

“Cassandra. Varric. Good to see you again.” Solas nodded to them. “I believe I recognize the mage from around Skyhold, but you -“ He looked at Ilriane. “You, I do not recognize.”

Suinassa met Ilriane’s eyes and nodded. “Tell him,” she said encouragingly.

Ilriane stepped forward, an arrow knocked to her bow, her face extremely pale. “I’m - I’m from the future, Dread Wolf,” she said. She looked nervously over at Suinassa, then back to Solas. “Nearly three hundred years.”

“That should not be possible,” Solas said, frowning at her and lifting a hand. Cassandra took a step forward. Solas noticed the motion and relaxed his arms slightly. “I will not harm her, or the mage,” he said. “I have never wished to harm any of you.”

“You have a most peculiar way of showing it,” Cassandra replied acidly.

“I intended to cast a small spell to see if this stranger is telling the truth,” Solas continued. “Obviously, you believe her, but I will be able to verify the tale more decisively. What is your name?”

“Ilriane Ghilain,” the still-nervous woman responded.

“Dalish names. Clan Ghilain. ‘Mind like a cage’.” Solas tilted his head to the side in a very wolf-like gesture. “Half-Dalish?”

Ilriane nodded, still holding her bow.

“That will make this easier.” Solas extended his hand out, and a small flash of green fire flew through the air to encircle Ilriane. Her face lost even more of its color, but the fire didn’t seem to be doing anything to her. He frowned. “Born two hundred sixty four years in the future.” The fire vanished. “To send you back to this time would have taken a tremendous amount of energy - a power source that only one of my kin could command. Who sent you back?” He took a step forward, seeming more intent than he had a moment ago - more deadly. Varric hefted Bianca noisily.

“You did,” Ilriane said. “I - I didn’t know it was you. Not until I arrived at Skyhold and drew a picture of you for the Inquisitor.” Her words came out rapidly, tumbling over themselves in her haste to explain herself. “You directed me to an Eluvian that would take me to Enathe.”

Solas looked stunned at that, the intensity draining from his body. Suinassa took the opportunity to direct the conversation. “She told us about her future, the world she comes from. The twelfth Age is called Reclamation, Solas - after the act that returned the Dales to our people. The Exalted Plains, the Emerald Graves, the Arbor Wilds - they are under the control of the Dalish, recognized as their own nation.” She took a step forward. “You miss the world you had. A world where elves were the masters of their own destiny. That world will return, without you having to tear down the Veil to do it.”

“That is not the only reason I wish to tear down the Veil,” Solas said.

“I know, but Solas…” Suinassa stepped forward, momentarily forgetting about the others with her. All she saw was Solas, the man that she loved, set on a foolish path. “Solas, Arlathan is gone. It has been gone for a long time. Trying to bring it back is counterproductive. I know that you think the clans foolish for trying to cling to tradition and not move forward. But we have moved forward. We have survived. Despite everything that has happened, the elves live, and they try to keep the old traditions alive.”

“Remember what I told you before,” Varric said. He stepped forward to stand besides Suinassa. “The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. The elves chose to keep going. Even if you do bring down the Veil, you won’t have the world back as you remember it.”

“You can never get the past back exactly as you remember,” Cassandra said, her words tinged with an edge of bitterness. Suinassa knew she was thinking about the Seekers. “You can try, but it will never be the same. That is not necessarily a bad thing. It is the nature of life.”

“Things are better now. In the future.” Suinassa turned to look at Ilriane as the other woman started speaking, and saw that some of the color had returned to her face. “It’s not perfect, and there’s still a long way to go - but it does happen. It happens because Suinassa Lavellan becomes a hero to every Dalish. Because Briala pushes Empress Celene into granting more concessions to the elves. Because the rulers of Ferelden honor their promise to Hareas Mahariel. Because Gina Hawke takes up their cause on behalf of her beloved Merrill.”

“You helped us against the Qunari because you wish this world to live in happiness, to let people make their own decisions,” Suinassa said. “Can’t you see that tearing the Veil down will do the opposite? Please, Solas. Stop this. Before it goes too far.”

She had walked within arm’s reach of him without realizing it. Solas reached out and touched the hook on her arm. “Dagna’s work,” he said. “You are fortunate to have her.”

Suinassa bent and laid her bow on the ground, then reached up with her remaining hand to lay it against Solas’ cheek. “Solas. Come back to me.” He bent his forehead so that it was leaning against hers, and Suinassa felt tears prickling at her eyes. “Come home.”

Solas covered her hand with his own, then tilted her chin up and kissed her. Suinassa felt her body growing heated, and she resisted the urge to deepen the kiss. Still, she was breathing heavily when he finally took a step back from her. He looked past her, at the others. “I do not know why my future self sent you here, Ilriane Ghilain,” he said. “I would imagine that you are here to beg me to send you home. I am sorry to say that I cannot do that.”

“No,” Ilriane said, an edge of hysteria entering her voice. “No, you - you have to send me back. You sent me here. You can send me back!”

Solas shook his head. “It is not possible, nor will it ever be. I cannot tell you how I was able to do it the first time. I can assure you that I am not able to do as you wish. The only way would be if I were to succeed at my plans - but that would mean that the future you came from no longer exists for you to return to.” He looked troubled at that.

“You - no - you can’t do that.” Ilriane had seemingly forgotten that she was afraid of Solas, darting forward to grab his arm, sinking to her knees in supplication. “You have to send me back.”

Solas met Suinassa’s eyes again, a much softer plea in this eyes. Suinassa bent and wrapped her right arm around Ilriane’s back. “If he says he can’t, then he can’t,” Suinassa said. “I’m sorry, Ilriane. I know that’s what you wanted. There is a place for you with us. I’m sure it’s small comfort now, but -“ she trailed off, aware of how empty her words must sound.

“It would not be wise for you to remain much longer,” Solas said. “My forces will be returning soon, and I fear some of them would not understand why you are not my prisoners. If you leave, that will avoid any unfortunate misunderstandings.”

“Will you give this up, Solas?” Cassandra asked. “Will you stop this madness?”

“I will consider what you have said,” Solas replied. “I cannot promise any more than that.” He paused. “There is an Eluvian in the next chamber. It will take you to a nexus, and from there -“

“We’re good, Chuckles,” Varric interrupted him. “Ilriane knows how to get us back.”

“Does she.” Solas watched as Suinassa helped Ilriane to her feet, then retrieved her bow from where she’d dropped it earlier. “Interesting.”

Heavy footsteps sounded behind them. “You are out of time,” Solas said regretfully. “Please, vhenan. I cannot guarantee your safety, and I –” he swallowed. “Please.”

“They are coming,” Cassandra said. “Rion.”

“Seeker?” Rion’s voice broke on the last syllable.

“Are you a mage or not?”

“Oh. Right.” Rion raised his arms, conjuring a wall of fire across the other end of the hallway.

Suinassa raised her bow and notched an arrow to it again, keeping her eye on Ilriane to make sure that the other woman was following. She had a good idea of the pain that their time-traveling companion felt, but there was nothing that she could do to help her. If Solas was right, there was nothing anyone could do to help her.

“Let’s move, people,” Varric called, darting ahead to the door that Solas had indicated before. “Time’s a-wasting.”

They reversed the order they had used before - Varric in the lead, Suinassa and Ilriane behind him, with Cassandra and Rion watching to see if anyone made it through Rion’s wall of fire. Varric threw open the door of the next chamber and revealed an Eluvian, already activated, ready for them to use.

Suinassa waved Cassandra and Rion ahead of her, and after a worried glance from Cassandra, they went. She lingered for a moment and caught the sight she had been hoping for.

Solas, his face sorrowful, met his gaze for a long moment. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he said.

“I love you, too,” Suinassa said, and walked through the Eluvian.

Chapter Text

Once she had crossed through the Eluvian, Ilriane kept walking, looking for a suitable patch of ground. When she found it, she sank to her knees, then rocked backwards, pulling her knees to her chest. Her chest heaved, and she began to sob.

“Ilriane, we must keep moving,” Cassandra Pentaghast said, placing a hand on Ilriane’s shoulder.

Ilriane took a deep breath. “Keep moving. Keep going. Don’t think about your friends being killed in front of you. Don’t think about the fact that you can never go home again.” She looked up at Cassandra, knowing there were tears streaming down her face, and not caring. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m an archaeologist. A scholar. I knew that going into the Wilds was risky, but I thought I could handle it. I thought that the reward would be worth it. Because you have to take risks, as an archaeologist. All of the good places to excavate are out in the middle of nowhere, the wilderness where your life really might be threatened.” She took another breath. “But that’s why I know how to use a bow. Why Hellathen hired Melothari to come with us. Why Jongar carried a mace, Ebsalom a sword and a shield. But we didn’t expect this. Who expects an Eluvian to be open? Who expects to be attacked by demons?”

Cassandra’s grip tightened. “I am sorry for what you have been through. I can only imagine how hard this is. But all of that will be for nothing if we do not keep moving. If we do not get back to Skyhold.”

“It’s about as unfair as anything else I’ve heard of recently,” Suinassa Lavellan said from behind them. “I’m sorry that we can’t give you the time you clearly need right now. I have some idea of how hard this is. But Cassandra is right. We can’t stay here.”

Ilriane wiped her tears. “Fenhedis.” They were right. She knew they were right. Only her desire not to die in the middle of the Eluvians like all the others allowed her to stand, to gather the strength she needed to put one foot in front of the other and walk towards the Eluvian that would eventually take them back to Skyhold.

Somehow, Ilriane made it to the room she’d been assigned at Skyhold before she collapsed into grief. She didn’t know how long she stayed on the bed, curled up and sobbing, but it was long enough to make her stomach ache from both effort and hunger. She was grateful that she was left alone during that time, although she occasionally heard people walking around in the hallways outside.

She was never going to go home. She was stuck in the past.

Even as her mind tried to think of other possibilities, of ways that she could prove Solas’ assertions wrong, there was that coldly logical part of her - the part instilled by her father at a young age, nurtured by her professors at Denerim University, the part of her that had led to Hellathen Alerion hiring her for this expedition - recognized that he was almost certainly right. The whole week that she had been at Skyhold, working on the map of the Eluvians, everyone had been so sure that Solas was the only person who could possibly have enough magic to send her more than two hundred years into the future. Since Ilriane hadn’t even heard of time magic before this whole mess started, she had no reason to doubt them. The only person that she actually doubted was Solas, because he was Fen’Harel, the trickster, the Deceiver - and a lifetime of Dalish stories wasn’t going to be undone by a week of being told that maybe Fen’Harel wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be. So even if he had been lying to her - even if he’d possessed the ability to send her back - he wouldn’t have done it.

Ilriane uncurled herself from the ball she’d been huddled in, stretching out her limbs. She pushed her hair back from her face and inhaled. “You can do this,” she told herself. “One foot in front of the other.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling her feet hit the soft carpet on the ground. She walked over to where her bag lay and dug through it until she found her cassette player. Ilriane ran her thumb over the edges and wondered how much longer the batteries in it would last.

“I packed another set, didn’t I?” she said to herself, and put the cassette player aside to dig through the rest of her bag. Translating Ancient Elvhen and a few other books that she’d considered essential to her work. Her sketchpads - one for work, and one for personal art. Tracing paper. Pencils. A canteen and a handful of trail bars. Her clothes, worn and re-worn until every last piece was thoroughly stained with dirt and sweat. Remnants of her bars of soap. A comb. Her watch, which she didn’t actually remember packing. She finally found the batteries, at the bottom of the pack, and held them in her hand for a few long minutes before she put them back.

Ilriane picked up her personal sketchbook and flipped through it, lingering on the pictures of her parents, her brother, her friends in Denerim. A view of the city from her bedroom window. She had always prized this sketchbook, but now she felt as though it was the most important thing in the world. Her strongest connection to the life she would never see again.

She swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill out again and placed her sketchbook on the nightstand next to the bed. Ilriane stood and opened the wardrobe. There were still clean clothes there, for which she felt a surge of gratitude. She changed, combed her hair, and started towards the door. She paused with her hand on the handle, then summoned her courage and exited the room.

The windows showed her nothing but darkness, but the hallways were well-lit with candles. Ilriane walked down the hallway, and then the stairs, heading for the Great Hall. It was late enough that she wasn’t sure she would find anyone there. She thought about turning around and returning to her room, but the idea filled her with a sudden surge of revulsion and despair. She wasn’t sure she could stand to be alone.

Ilriane turned the corner slowly, entering the Great Hall, and saw a handful of Inquisition soldiers there, most of them seated at one long table. Of course there would be people up. There was a constant watch on the gate, and possibly other locations at Skyhold. She scanned the people there, and saw one familiar face. Cullen Rutherford. She still didn’t know quite what to make of him, but even an uncertain connection was better than no connection at all. Ilriane walked over and took the seat across from him. “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you,” she said. “I just couldn’t stand to be alone any longer.”

“I’m glad to see you up and about, even if it is at an abominably late hour,” Cullen replied. “You are not disturbing me. I understand not wanting to be alone.” His shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned in to look at her. “How are you?”

“Awful,” Ilriane replied. “It’s just … too much. Two months ago, I was in Val Royeaux, preparing for the expedition. I thought I knew what to expect. And then … “

“Eluvians, demons, and figures out of legend,” Cullen said, nodding. “I know how you must feel.”

Ilriane tried to dredge up what she knew about Cullen Rutherford before the Inquisition. Templar-trained, she remembered after a minute, which could mean any number of things - but he couldn’t be too anti-mage if he joined the Inquisition. Then, finally, she remembered. Cullen Rutherford had been a templar at Kinloch Hold during the Fifth Blight, one of the few to make it out alive. After that, he’d gone to Kirkwall, under the infamous Commander Meredith.

What horrors had Cullen Rutherford seen at Kinloch and Kirkwall? Demons and abominations, almost certainly. Perhaps even worse.

With that memory, she felt some warmth spreading inside her. He actually did know. He wasn’t just saying that to make her feel better - he’d been through something very similar to her own experiences. The realization made her smile, and she saw surprise flash across his face before he dropped his head.

“Thank you,” Ilriane said, because she felt as though the silence was about to stretch into uncomfortable territory. “For understanding.”

Cullen lifted his head and met her eyes again. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Or is it - too soon? Would it be too painful?”

Ilriane thought about declining. She was almost certain that it would be painful, but that wasn’t necessarily enough of a reason to say no. “I - if you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said.

“I don’t,” Cullen assured her. His hand reached forward to close on one of hers, then he withdrew it. Ilriane wished he hadn’t. The brief touch had been immensely comforting. “Let me get you some food and drink, first. I know you haven’t had anything since you returned to Skyhold.” He leaned out into the aisle and waved a someone over.

“Thank you.” Ilriane felt like she was repeating herself, but she was truly grateful for the consideration he was showing her. She laughed softly to herself as she thought about how similar this was to her first day at Skyhold, her first time meeting Cullen Rutherford.

“Ebsalom always reminded me of a dwarf,” she began. “Bald head, full beard, and sometimes insufferably cheerful. A little goofy. But he was as dedicated as the rest of us when it came to our work.”

She paused when the food arrived, wrapping both of her hands around the mug of hot tea. She let out a sigh as the warmth seeped into her skin. Ilriane put the mug down and stirred the soup, picking up the spoon and taking a few careful sips.

“What was his speciality?” Cullen asked after a few more moments. Ilriane could still feel his scrutiny on her, but it didn’t bother her. Maybe she was just too tired to feel offended.

“Objects. Things,” Ilriane replied. “He could date them to a range of periods, to help us narrow down what we were looking at.”

She took a few more bites of food before she continued. After Ebsalom, she talked about Aviselan, and then Jongar, and eventually all the others. She found herself going into more detail than she had expected - the warmth from the food, and Cullen’s silent but comforting regard helping to relax her. She didn’t know how long she talked, and it wasn’t until she heard someone slide into the seat next to her that she noticed the sun was beginning to rise.

“Has Curly been telling stories?” Varric asked. The dwarf offered her a broad grin as he laced his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair. “Don’t believe anything he says.”

“I could say the same about your stories, Varric,” Cullen said indignantly. “Actually, Ilriane was telling me about her colleagues on her expedition.”

“Ah. Those kinds of stories.” Varric nodded. “Maybe you can tell them to me, later. Probably much later. In any case, I just wanted to say - if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. I might be leaving Skyhold soon, but I don’t forget my friends.”

Ilriane felt a smile spreading across her face. “I know,” she replied. “That’s the thing everyone agrees about with you. That you went out of your way to help your friends.”

“I hope that doesn’t get spread around too widely, too soon,” Varric said. “I have enough to deal with. I don’t need people thinking I’m an easy mark.”

Cullen grinned, the scar across his mouth stretching out slightly. “I suspect that anyone who underestimates you will learn his lesson rather quickly.”

Ilriane laughed, which quickly turned into a yawn. “Excuse me. I think I’ll try to get some sleep.” She smiled at Cullen. “Talking did help, a lot.”

“Good. Good,” Cullen said, standing at the same time that she did. “I - sleep well, my lady.”

Ilriane’s face flushed as she turned away and headed back to her room. There was an idea, a concept that was threatening to intrude on her exhausted mind, but she was in no condition to examine it further. If it was important, it would come to her later.

She slept for a few hours, and when she woke she found a note that had been slid under her door. The Inquisitor wanted to see her when she woke. Ilriane changed out of her wrinkled clothes into a fresh tunic and pants and made her way downstairs. The note had said the Inquisitor would likely be in the War Room, so she headed there. She knocked on the door, and heard Suinassa Lavellan’s voice telling her to enter. She opened the door, and walked in.

Suinassa looked up from her seat at the War Table as Ilriane Ghilain entered. The other woman looked much better for some food and a good night’s sleep, and Suinassa was reminded of how she’d looked the first time they’d met, right after Ilriane had come stumbling through the Eluvian. Selfishly, a part of her was glad that Ilriane would be forced to stay. She hadn’t realized how much she missed having another Dalish around, even with Ilriane’s background and upbringing being so different from her own. Ilriane was Dalish at heart, like her father.

Suinassa smiled at the other woman. “Good to see you. Have a seat. How are you doing?”

“Better, thank you,” Ilriane replied, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, then looking at Suinassa. “Inquisitor - Suinassa - I wanted to apologize -“

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Suinassa interrupted her. “There is nothing that you did that you should feel ashamed of. If there is any fault, it is mine - for forgetting that you are not a warrior by nature, when you showed as much bravery and competence as the rest of us.”

Ilriane blushed and dropped her head. “I … thank you, Inquisitor. Coming from you, that means … quite a bit.”

“I meant what I said before,” Suinassa continued after a moment to let Ilriane recover. “There’s a place for you here - to keep doing what you’re good at. There’s so much more that I found that we haven’t translated - that we don’t understand. I can’t think of anyone better suited to take that task on.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Ilriane said, looking up at Suinassa, and then turning her gaze on the other members of the Inquisition that were seated around the table. Cassandra, Varric, Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen - seeming to spend more time on the last than the previous three. Suinassa remembered what Varric had told her a few hours ago - that Cullen and Ilriane had been talking for much of the night - and wondered if there was any special significance to that look. “And it isn’t like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“That isn’t the only reason we - I - want you to stay,” Suinassa continued. “You’re a friend. It may have only been just about two weeks that you’ve been here, but that’s enough time.” It was her turn to look at the other inhabitants of the room. “Such things have happened to me before.”

“She’s not the only one who thinks of you as a friend,” Varric added. “As I already told you. I’m leaving in a few days, but anything you need - signed copies of my books, for example…”

Cassandra snorted. “And we are back to you not taking anything seriously.”

“The same offer is open to you, Seeker,” Varric said, sounding almost playful. “Anything you need.”

“Ugh,” Cassandra said again.

Suinassa just shook her head. Some things never changed. “So, will you stay and work for the Inquisition?”

“Of course!” Ilriane said quickly. “I - I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Of course I want to stay. I think of you as a friend, too.”

“Good,” Suinassa said, nodding decisively. “Josephine can help you get settled in. I’m not sure if we’ll be staying at Skyhold long-term, but we’re here for at least the next few months while Leliana fixes things on her end.” She turned to look at the new Divine, who now held the Inquisition’s fate in her hands.

Leliana tapped her chin thoughtfully before replying. “If possible, I would like to keep Skyhold operating. I will need a representative of the Inquisition to return to Val Royeaux with me. A military leader, I think. Since that was Ferelden’s primary concern, I will need to show that the Inquisition’s military is under the Chantry’s control.

“That should be me, then,” Cassandra said. “Cullen is needed here, and I am a known quantity in Val Royeaux.” She smiled at Leliana. “Besides, I already know that we can work well together.”

“I hope you will not be leaving immediately,” Josephine put in with a flourish of her omni-present pen. “Not without the chance to give everyone a proper send-off. I will need at least four days to put that together.”

“Don’t worry, Josephine, I’ll make sure they stay until you have the party planned,” Suinassa assured her, grinning broadly at first Leliana and then Cassandra.

“Anything to put off returning to Kirkwall,” Varric said. “Or any excuse for a party. Take your pick.”

“Then it’s settled,” Josephine said, nodding decisively. “I’ll begin preparations immediately.”

Suinassa nodded, and looked around the room at her friends. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“I’ve put a guard on the Eluvian,” Cullen said. “In case Solas or someone else comes through it.”

“Should we consider destroying it?” Cassandra asked.

Cullen stood and started to pace near the table. “We could use it to launch another raid,” he said. “If Solas moved his defenses as we think he might have, we can confirm that.”

“And if there’s any chance of getting Ilriane home, it will be through that Eluvian,” Suinassa said. She hated saying that - hated it because she knew there was no chance of that, but that to avoid saying it would be a disservice to Ilriane.

Ilriane bit her lip, one hand resting on the map of the Eluvians that still lay strewn across the table. “I - just realized something,” she said quietly. “The Eluvian that I came through, it should have been this one.” She tapped the map, indicating the Eluvian that connected to the one in Skyhold. “But it wasn’t. It’s nowhere on the map.”

“So maybe the one you used was some sort of one-way portal,” Suinassa said, nodding. “An Eluvian that doesn’t exist yet.”

“This all makes my brain hurt,” Varric complained, earning a chuckle from Ilriane and Suinassa.

“It doesn’t mean that we’ll give up,” Suinassa said, placing a hand on top of Ilriane’s. “If anyone can find the answer, we can.”

Ilriane closed her eyes, and Suinassa could see the beginnings of tears. “Thank you,” Ilriane whispered. “For everything.”

Suinassa squeezed the other woman’s hand gently before removing it and looking at the others in the room. “That should be all for now,” she said. “You know where to find me if anything comes up.”

One by one, they nodded and started to leave. Ilriane stayed where she was for a few moments, then opened her eyes. “Lady Montilyet - Josephine - do you have a moment?”

“Oh, of course!” Josephine replied with a broad smile. “I will show you to where the furnishings are kept. And might I suggest…”

Suinassa smiled as she watched them leave. She’d have to keep an eye on the newest member of the Inner Circle to see how she was settling in. She could only imagine how different things were in the Reclamation Age. Maybe Ilriane would feel like telling her sometime. For now, Suinassa wouldn’t push. Ilriane had enough to worry about.

Chapter Text

Ilriane looked at the opened wardrobe in the room that was now hers and tried not to feel despair. There was absolutely no reason to get upset over something as trivial as a dress. Not when she so rarely wore the blasted things in the first place.

Except that this wasn’t a party at Denerim University, and appearances mattered quite a bit to some of the noble guests that Josephine Montilyet was expecting at tomorrow’s event.

“Shit,” Ilriane said, and closed the wardrobe. She was going to have to ask for help - something that made her feel extremely awkward. After thinking on it for a few more minutes, she hadn’t come up with any better ideas than asking the Inquisitor herself. Which made her feel even more awkward, because in her wildest dreams Ilriane Ghilain had never dreamed that she might find herself in the position of asking Inquisitor Suinassa Lavellan for fashion advice.

She left the room - hers, she had to keep thinking of it as hers - and walked downstairs. It was about time for the midday meal, which meant she might get lucky and find Suinassa right away. She exited into the Hall and froze in place at the sight of an unfamiliar group sitting at one of the long tables. She hadn’t been there long enough to know everyone who worked for the Inquisition - but she was quite sure that she’d never seen the very large Qunari with an eyepatch before.

A gentle hand took hold of her elbow. Ilriane turned to see Varric there, and he smiled comfortingly at her. “Deep breaths,” he advised her.

“Was - was it that obvious?” Ilriane replied, giving him a smile that she knew was shaky.

“Don’t worry, I doubt anyone else was paying attention,” Varric said, returning her smile. “Tiny tends to draw attention like that.”

“Tiny?” Ilriane asked. “You call that – you call him Tiny?” All the histories of Varric Tethras mentioned his tendency to bestow nicknames upon his friends.

“Why not?” Varric chuckled. “He doesn’t mind.”

“Varric!” the Qunari in question bellowed, seeing him there. “Good to see you. I heard we missed all the excitement. Get over here and tell me about it.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Varric said, tugging at Ilriane’s arm gently to propel her forward. She allowed herself to be dragged over. She would not let fear rule her.

“Ilriane, this is the Iron Bull, and these are his Chargers,” Varric said when they came up next to the table. “Krem’s his second-in-command, and there’s Stitches, Dalish, Grim, Rocky, and Skinner. This is Ilriane Ghilain, and yes, she’s really from the future.”

“Man, that’s a hell of a thing,” the Iron Bull said. “The future.”

“How’s that even work?” Krem asked. “Is the future different now, because you’re here?”

“I have no idea,” Ilriane replied, shaking her head. “I’m – honestly, I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Fair enough,” Krem said with a nod. “I don’t blame you. It’s a hell of a thing, being displaced from everything you ever knew.”

The Iron Bull grunted and lifted his tankard. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Hey, what do they say about us?” the dwarf introduced as Rocky asked, lifting his head up slightly to look at Ilriane.

“Uh -“ Ilriane stuttered, anxiety rising up in her at the question.

“No good comes from that shit,” the Iron Bull said, pointing a finger at Rocky. “She says we’re famous, you all get sloppy and someone gets hurt. She says we’re forgotten, you fall over yourselves trying to ensure that you do something memorable.”

“We’re mercenaries,” Krem added. “If we make it into the history books, it’s cause what we did made some difference, not because someone sat down and wrote our life’s stories.”

“Now that you mention it, that could be interesting material for my next book,” Varric said, sitting on the bench next to the Iron Bull.

“Ooh, does he write the book?” Stitches asked eagerly.

The Iron Bull glared at him. “Stitches…”

“All right, all right, I take it back.”

“I’m – uh – I’m going to go look for the Inquisitor,” Ilriane said, cheeks flushing. “Do you happen to know where she is?”

“Talking to Lady Montilyet,” Krem said. “About the preparations for the party tomorrow.” He turned his head to look at the Iron Bull. “Hey, Chief, are we allowed to attend?”

“Damn right you are,” the Qunari said, the words close to a growl. “Boss herself said so.”

The table gave a rough cheer, and Ilriane took the opportunity to slip away and head for Josephine’s office. There was no reason to feel this nervous. It was just a party. And it wasn’t as though anyone would be paying attention to her, not with everyone else who was going to be there.

Ilriane didn’t bother knocking on Josephine’s door before she went inside. She felt comfortable enough in that, at least. Josephine was behind her desk, with Suinassa standing in front of the desk and Divine Victoria sitting in a chair by the fireplace.

“Welcome,” Suinassa said with a smile that warmed Ilriane’s heart, as it always did. The histories had mentioned Suinassa’s generosity and kindness, but reading it and experiencing it were two different things entirely. “Don’t worry, we’re just about done here.”

Josephine nodded. “The extra kitchen staff will be arriving soon. I will make sure they know what they are to do.”

“And I’ll greet our arriving dignitaries,” Suinassa said with a wry smile. “It wouldn’t do for any of them to feel slighted.”

“Oh,” Ilriane said, unable to stop the disappointed exclamation. “I - you’re both busy, then.”

“What is it that you needed?” Suinassa asked. “I’m sure I can make time.”

“I - well - it’s stupid,” Ilriane hedged. “I - just - I don’t have anything to wear.”

“That is not stupid, it is most important,” Divine Victoria said. “Appearances matter, and you are part of the Inquisition now.” She eyed Ilriane critically. “Yes, you are about the same size as the Inquisitor, and similar coloring. We should be able to find you something to wear.”

Suinassa chuckled. “By all means, raid my wardrobe. I doubt anyone will notice that you’re wearing the same thing I was last year. It’s such a waste to have gowns that I only wear once because the Inquisitor can’t possibly be seen in the same thing twice.”

“Let us get started,” Divine Victoria said, rising from her chair. “And not a word out of any of you that the Divine cannot be doing something like this. I miss being able to vary my wardrobe. Whoever decided that the Divine must always wear robes had no imagination at all.”

“I would not dream of saying anything,” Josephine assured her with a smile.

Ilriane clamped her mouth shut on the protest that had threatened to come out. The thought of having the Inquisitor do this had been bad enough, but now it was the Divine that was going to be helping her. She believed in the Creators, but that didn’t make her unaware of the power and prestige that the Divines possessed.

“Well?” Divine Victoria asked. Ilriane realized with a jolt of embarrassment that the other woman was waiting for her.

“Yes, of course, Your Perfection,” Ilriane babbled, walking over quickly and following her out the door.

Hours later, Ilriane stared at her reflection in the small mirror resting on the table in front of her and listened to Josephine and Leliana arguing about whether her hair should be up or down. At some point during the marathon session of trying on dresses, the red-headed woman had ceased to be the Divine and started being Leliana. Ilriane was still a little intimidated, but it was no longer because of Leliana’s office. It was because Leliana was absolutely ruthless when it came to fashion. Even if Ilriane had possessed an opinion about her appearance for this ball, she would have kept her mouth shut in the face of Leliana’s absolute confidence and determination.

Leliana had settled on a deep cobalt blue dress for Ilriane to wear, with a high neckline and small sleeves made out of a transparent fabric. Ilriane thought that the bottom half contained far too much fabric, but she had to admit she liked how it looked when she moved. The sides of the bodice were made out of a darker blue fabric, soft and velvet where the rest of the dress was a bit stiffer.

“Up it is,” Josephine said, and Ilriane felt Leliana’s hands moving to bring her long blonde hair up into a kind of loose bun. It took far less time than Ilriane was expecting.

“Excellent. Now for the makeup. Very light, I think,” Leliana said.

Ilriane squashed down the unreasoning irritation at having someone else do it for her. She’d wanted help, and she shouldn’t scorn it when it came to her. Besides, Josephine would probably do a better job than she could. So she did as instructed, holding still, closing her eyes until she was directed to open them.

“That dress looks better on you than it did on me,” Suinassa commented as she entered the sitting room that they had all been using for these preparations. The Inquisitor was wearing a forest-green gown that matched her eyes, with long trailing sleeves and a high waist that flared into a broad skirt with a gold-and-green pattern at the front.

Ilriane smiled back at her. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Oh, keep it,” Suinassa replied, waving her hand diffidently. “As I said earlier, it’s not like I can ever wear it again. Are we almost finished, Josephine?”

“We are - done!” Josephine declared, smiling as she put the makeup brush down. “Now to touch up my own makeup, and we will be ready to go.”

“We’ll be the first ones in the Great Hall so that Leliana and I can properly greet our guests,” Suinassa explained. “We’re introducing you as Scholar Ghilain. That should ensure the vultures leave you alone.”

“Vultures?” Ilriane hated the quaver in her voice.

“Men who think to curry favor with the Inquisitor by flirting with the women around her.” Josephine shook her head. “The ones who try it with Cassandra end up with broken noses.”

“They should be grateful it is nothing worse,” Leliana said.

Josephine patted Ilriane’s hand in a comforting gesture. “You will be fine. As the Inquisitor alluded, your status as a scholar will deter most of them.”

Ilriane allowed herself to be herded down the stairs into the Great Hall, which had been thoroughly decorated for the occasion in Dalish green. The first guests were ushered in a bare few moments after all of the Inquisition members were there, and soon all of her friends were caught up in conversations with visiting dignitaries, leaving Ilriane feeling at loose ends until a shout caught her attention.

“Hey! New girl! Over here!”

Ilriane turned to see Krem waving at her. With nothing better to do, she made her way over to where the Chargers were sitting. “You look - er - nice,” Krem said.

“Thank you,” Ilriane said, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush. “Suinassa lent - gave me the dress, I should say.”

“Look who I found!” the Iron Bull crowed as he walked up to the table. A woman and a man followed in his footsteps and were greeted enthusiastically by the Chargers as ‘Cole’ and ‘Maryden’. Ilriane recognized the latter as the minstrel who had been attached to the Inquisition, and written several songs that were still in circulation in her time, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard of someone named ‘Cole’. She tried not to feel left out as these two old friends were greeted warmly.

Cole turned his attention on her and tilted his head to the side, almost like a puppy. “You’re different,” he said.

“Now, Cole, I thought we were past that,” Maryden chided him.

“Sorry. But she is.” Cole touched her hand in a gesture that should have felt intrusive - but didn’t. “Home is what you make it to be. You can’t go back, so you move forward.”

Ilriane felt some of her worry lifting from her, as though he had physically drawn it out. “What - what did you do?” she asked in a soft whisper.

“Helped,” Cole said, almost proudly. “Made it hurt less.”

“Cole here was once a Spirit of Compassion, though Maker only knows how that works,” Krem said.

“He chose to be more human,” Maryden added. “He lost some - though not all - of his abilities when he did so.”

“Weird,” Ilriane murmured, which was met with a round of chuckles from the Chargers.

“Lots of weird shit happening here,” Stitches said. “You get used to it, after a while.”

“Long as we get paid, right boys?” The Iron Bull hefted his tankard and the others raised theirs, roaring their approval as they clinked the glasses together. When the toast was done, he gestured to Ilriane, Maryden, and Cole. “Sit down, all of you. I want to hear about this expedition you were on to find Solas.” The big Qunari shook his head. “Who’d have thought the bastard would turn out to be Fen’Harel.”

It was an easy enough request to comply with, so Ilriane started in on the tale, pausing to answer questions from the others about how she’d actually come to be at Skyhold in the first place. The easy camaraderie of the Chargers reminded her of Hellathen and the others, but the thought caused her less anguish than it had a week ago.

You can’t go back, so you move forward. They were words similar to the one that Varric and Suinassa had given Solas, reminding him that the world of the ancient elves was out of his reach.

The feast flew by much quicker than Ilriane had been fearing, with the Chargers, and Cole and Maryden, for company. When the tables were starting to be cleared, Krem rose from his chair and walked over next to Ilriane’s. “Would you - like to dance?” Krem asked.

Ilriane’s mouth fell open, and she closed it quickly to avoid embarrassing herself further. “I - I’d love to,” she said. Krem offered her his hand and she rose to take it, letting herself be drawn into the dance.

Krem was very light on his feet and wore a broad smile the whole time they were dancing. His delight was infectious, and Ilriane found herself smiling as well by the time the dance ended. As the music died down, she felt a hand on her shoulder - and if she hadn’t recognized the touch, she might have embarrassed herself by panicking.

Ilriane turned to see Cullen Rutherford standing there, looking very polished and handsome in his dress uniform. “My lady?” he asked, bending over slightly and offering his hand to her.

Ilriane knew she was blushing fiercely, and she felt butterflies rising up in her stomach as she took his hand. Cullen’s smile was brilliant as he pulled her close, his hand resting on her hip as he took her other hand in his. The butterflies seemed to transmute themselves into heat as they danced. Heat and warmth. She felt comfortable with Cullen as she did with - none other, come to think of it. She felt close to Suinassa, certainly, but it was a different kind of closeness than what she was now feeling with Cullen.

You can’t go back, so you move forward.

When Cullen leaned in for a kiss, Ilriane tilted her head up to meet his, and felt a different kind of warmth entirely as their lips met.

Chapter Text

"You will be safe there,” Solas assured the frightened young woman in front of him. “Go.”

Ilriane Ghilain took one final look at him, as though she couldn’t quite believe that he was real, and then ran forward and passed through the Eluvian. Solas felt it when she arrived at Skyhold, and closed the Eluvian behind her.

“And so her modern life ends,” he said aloud.

“But her new life with the Inquisition begins,” Suinassa Lavellan said, coming out from where she had been hiding out of Ilriane’s sight. “A good one, if you’ll recall.”

Solas smiled at his beloved and pulled her into his arms. Even after all these years, her touch still warmed him to his core. “You never told me,” she said. “How were you so sure that you couldn’t send her back?”

“Because I knew exactly what Eluvian I must have used to send her there in the first place,” Solas said. “It was supposed to be my fail-safe. A chance to start over, if things failed disastrously. I anchored a time-travel spell to an Eluvian. A one-way portal that took me back to the days of my … second rebellion, I suppose I thought of it then.”

“You - you created a time portal?” Suinassa asked.

“A stable one, to the moment that I created it in the first place,” Solas replied. “As I said, it was supposed to be a fail-safe. I never did use it, though. Not until today.”

Suinassa pulled away slightly and looked up at him. “So you knew to send her back - to look for her today - because you knew you’d already done it?”

“More or less.”

“I’m glad she never knew that,” Suinassa said quietly. “She might have tried to convince you to do more. To stop her from going through in the first place.”

“I would not have risked it,” Solas said. “I doubt that events still would have played out as they did, without her presence. And I am quite happy with how they played out.” He kissed her lightly, feeling the smile that action brought to her face.

They stood there for a moment, holding each other, and then Suinassa took a step back. “Well! As of today, we have no idea about anything that will happen in the future. Shall we go see it for ourselves?”

Solas smiled back at his beloved, the woman who had transformed his world beyond all recognition - twice, and both times most definitively for the better. “I would like nothing more.”