Chapter Text
Whispers and pointing were a normal part of Tessa’s life now.
When people weren’t whispering or pointing, they were either asking her for a favor in the name of Andraste or quickly walking away from her because she was a mage.
The only person who did neither was Cassandra Pentaghast, and she terrified Tessa.
The woman interrogated her and literally dragged her across the demon infested valley to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to close the Breach. Tessa was barely able to cast spells the whole time she was so scared. The only thing that kept her sane was Varric’s sarcastic comments.
Tessa didn’t even want to be reminded of how despair and terror demons taunted her dreams after that.
The Herald of Andraste wanted to escape the whispers for only a moment, and that usually meant walking outside of Haven. She was still hobbling and sore from that horrible day. She honestly didn’t know what to do as an agent of the Inquisition. She didn’t really know what being the Herald of Andraste truly meant either.
Tessa glanced over at the training soldiers nearby. Commander Cullen was standing near his troops, barking orders and leading them through the drill. Tessa recognized every move. Her brother told her about it enough in his letters.
The mage’s eyes kept straying toward the Commander. Maker, she couldn’t figure out if she thought he was attractive or if she was just hyper aware of him because he was a Templar. He said her being a mage wasn’t an issue with him, but who knew if he was lying or not.
A heavy thud and a growl of frustration caused Tessa to turn her attention toward the practice dummies nearby. Cassandra was looking more terrifying than usual with her sword sticking out of the back of a practice dummy. Maker, she was using a wooden sword too!
The Seeker violently tugged the sword out and glanced over at Tessa.
Deciding to diffuse the obvious tension surrounding the warrior, Tessa cleared her throat. “I think you need practice dummies made of sturdier stuff.”
Cassandra snorted. “That would be nice.” She smacked the side of the sword against the dummy’s head.
“Like maybe iron.”
A sigh escaped Cassandra’s mouth instead of the laugh Tessa was aiming for.
“Did I do the right thing?” she suddenly asked, turning away from her to look up at the Breach. She suddenly whipped around and hit the side of the dummy with her sword. “What I have set in motion could destroy everything I have revered my whole life.”
Tessa cautiously stepped around the Seeker to avoid being clubbed with the practice sword and she pondered what she said. The Seekers were the Chantry’s agents to keep the Templars in line. Cassandra was the Right Hand of the bloody Divine. She was the definition of devout. And to start an organization that could tear the power away from everything she worked for? No wonder she was cranky.
Maker, Tessa was suddenly glad she wasn’t Cassandra and she wondered how the woman appeared to be so strong despite this revelation.
Cassandra huffed and held her sword up in a ready position, glancing at Tessa over her shoulder. “One day they might write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, or a fool,” she flicked some loose bangs out of her eyes, “And they may be right.”
Tessa tugged on her braid, biting her lip a little. Well, she was supposed to be working with Cassandra now, might as well be civil. Besides, Tessa knew she would have those fears as well if she was in the Seeker’s position. “You didn’t have any choice. No one is fixing the real problems and you were willing to take the risk.”
“Didn’t I?” Another smack to the dummy. “My trainers always said, ‘Cassandra, you are too brash. You must think before you act.’” Cassandra tossed her sword to the ground, stepping toward Tessa. “I see what must be done and I do it. I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its own tail.”
Relief filled Tessa for once at Cassandra’s words. They were alike. Tessa hated beating around the bush herself and she was more willing to jump into fixing a problem headfirst instead of arguing about it. The senior mages at Ostwick called her impatient because of it, but Lydia called it determination. A sinking feeling entered Tessa’s chest at the thought of her dead mentor.
Cassandra’s brow pinched and she sighed again. “But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again.”
Tessa thought about the position Cassandra was in concerning herself. Tessa knew she would have pointed the finger at the only survivor of the Conclave as well. “It’s not like you didn’t have any reason to suspect me.”
Cassandra’s smirk caused her scar to quirk up. She turned and started to step toward the main part of the camp. She suddenly halted in her tracks and gave Tessa a hard stare. “You said you don’t believe you’re chosen. Does this mean you don’t believe in the Maker?”
That’s an odd question, Tessa thought. “I believe he exists.”
“That comforts me more than you know,” Cassandra admitted, beckoning to her.
Tessa quickly caught up with her and started to follow her around the camp. Rows and rows of tents covered the open areas around Haven and Cassandra was showing her where every type of soldier was staying. Tessa became nervous when they walked closer and closer to the Templar part of the camp. Would they see her as a rebel mage? Tessa had done her best to keep herself and the remaining mages of Ostwick out of the conflict and that habit never left her.
Instead of making awkward eye contact with the Templars, Tessa asked Cassandra about her life. Before long, Tessa discovered how Cassandra became the Right Hand and that she despised Nevarra.
“What happened to your brother?” she asked and she could tell she asked the wrong question by how Cassandra’s shoulder’s stiffened.
“I would prefer not to speak of Antony. Good day,” Cassandra answered curtly, walking away.
That left the Herald of Andraste back where she began at the gate to Haven.
Note to self, never mention the brother again, Tessa told herself.