Rated M for safety reasons.

Disclaimer: Belongs to Bioware. I'm just in love with the elf-kind.

Thanks for the reviews(!): SpiffyPixie1, Silver, and AkatsukiShizu3

Unbeta'd: All mistakes are my own and I will fix them when you or I catch them :)

Never Meet Your Heroes

…

…

…

..

.

..

…

…

…

I did as Cassandra suggested and hid during each battle. When we came upon the demons down the pass, Mr. Mass and the seeker immediately took point while I hung back. When the two gained the demons attention I immediately ran to the nearest tree or rock, and crouched down behind it. Together the two took down the demons without much effort. Easily slicing through them as if they were only butter. The two fought with such ferocity and without remorse. Cassandra would charge straight forward, as was in her nature, into battle without thought or plan. Attacking the demons head on with only her shield and sword and instinct. Not even giving them a moment to react. Mr. Mass was the polar opposite. What I had thought before about Mr. Mass being cocky proved to be untrue. He was an extremely cautious fighter. He would bait the demons into attacking: testing their intelligence, their power, and their skill. He would give them an air of confidence before striking them down at their weak points.

I would watch them in amazement with my dagger gripped firmly in my hand. The two always made sure none of demons came near me. With their backs to my position, they would distract and focus all the attacks on to their person. Still, I could not stop the nervous feelings that made my chest feel hollow and my stomach squeeze unpleasantly in anticipation. The demons seemed never ending. While in the game, I had only faced a few at certain points in the area. In this dream world, every step we took, another seemed to appear.

The wraiths were particularly terrifying. Ghosts and zombies had always terrified me. Just something about dead human-beings creeped me out. I could handle monsters and grotesque creatures, but something about ghost…ugh. They freaked me out. Shades were monsters that had humanoid features, but wraiths were more ghost-like. Human skeletons covered in green like mist hovering around on smoky tails similar to Casper. Their mouths moved up and down as if trying to talk or scream, and their eyes only empty sockets. Black and soulless. They were things that would surely give me nightmares for weeks.

I released a sigh in relief as Mr. Mass cut down the last of demons. Gutting it with one clean swipe across the abdomen. I stood from my position just as the shade fell and crumbled back to the fade. I loosened my grip on the dagger, settling it back into bag before I took off down the hill towards my companions.

They waited for me covered in gore and dirt, but neither out of breath. They watched me approach calmly as if they had not just fought a battalion of monsters. It was me, when I stopped in front of them that was gasping for air.

"W-where to next?" I asked, looking up at them from my bent over position, gulping down air.

"Up the mountain." Cassandra gazed up towards the mountain. "We are close to the rift." She turned to look at us, expression serious. "You can hear the fighting."

And I could: the sounds of metal hitting metal, the yells of the brave, and the screams of the dying. I shivered from a sudden cold chill that trailed down my spine.

"Who's fighting?" Mr. Mass inquired curiously, cocking his head to the side.

"You shall see." She answered cryptically, looking displeased, as she sheathed her sword. "Come, we must help them." She took off at a run up the stairs taking two steps up at the time. Mr. Mass ran right behind her not a second later with only a glance in my direction. I stood there, unmoving, and studied the backside of my unknown companion. Mr. Mass was pure white almost albino looking. From his skin, to his hair, to the large horns on top of his head. Only his eyes were dark in color. Black, endless pools of darkness, but they weren't unkind. They were intimidating, soul shaking, but they held some sort of softness in them. His horns were long and thick on his head, curving upwards and splitting off in three directions. His nose was crooked, his forehead was large, and his lips were thin and forever carved into one line. It seemed like the Kossith's face would break in half if he ever did smile. In a way, he was similar to the Qunari seen on Dragon Age II in Kirkwall, but missing the bright red vitaar.

I still don't know his name. I thought off-handedly as they rounded the corner and disappeared from my sight. Do I just call him Adaar?

I sighed and shook my head before taking off after them towards the sounds of fighting. I copied Cassandra's steps and took two stairs at a time. When I neared the top, I slowed to a walk and lingered around the corner. I gnawed on my lip nervously, and gripped the mage's staff harder. I knew who was just around this corner.

"Okay breathe." I consoled myself. "No need to make a fool of yourself. No need to fangirl." Though Varric is probably used to fangirls falling all over themselves over him. Screaming for his autograph. I patted the bottom of the bag experimentally feeling for the markers. Maybe I could get him to autograph my post-it notes? I flushed, feeling my cheeks burn. Maybe I could get Solas to sign something too. Maybe in elvhen. Maybe I could get him to sign my chest.

I clasped my hands over my face and shook my head in embarrassment. "Dear god…!" I have to stop these X-rated thoughts especially on the battle field. I lowered my hands, and dug into my bag for my dagger. When I grasped it, I steeled myself for the inevitable and turned the corner.

I saw Solas first (which had to be irony at its best) for he was casting some sort of large tornado above his head. A purple sparking dangerous-looking tornado. I had not seen magic until that point, and I was suddenly star struck by it. It was beautiful and awe inspiring. He danced (because that was surely what he was doing – dancing) flowing through the steps while magic followed his lead. It was bit like watching the benders in Avatar the Last Airbender. Their movements were a bit similar to his, but Solas had more grace. More skill. Fire danced in his palm before he aimed it at a shade, and the fire became a stream at his command. Magic was at his mercy.

Varric was not too far away from the elvhen god. He stood upon a broken piece of stone using his high position as leverage. Bianca in his hand looking ever so deadly. The repeating crossbrow was very modern looking compared to what I had seen so far. The base was wooden, but all the little attachments were metal along with the magazine. The magazine was a large cylinder that was attach underneath the wooden base. Every time Varric pulled the trigger there was a loud snap as the band ricocheted and propelled the arrows forward. There was spark of fire from the top of Bianca that looked eerily like something from an old 1800s musket. Did Bianca carry gunpowder? I thought curiously. That might explain a lot. Though that was something to ponder later, right now I needed to hide. I ran to the broken ledge of the bridge and squatted behind it. I fumbled through my bag narrowly missing getting my fingers cut off as I grasped the hilt of my other dagger.

"Need to invest in a sheath." I mumbled before turning my gaze back to the fight. Solas was the only mage in the area so he hung back throwing up shields around distracted warriors effectively blocking sneak attacks from wraiths. They were sneaky bastards I soon realized. Moving silently in the breeze unhindered, phasing through physical objects without effort, much like their fable counterparts. The only good things about them was that never uttered a sound. I don't think my heart could stand a moan or whine of eternal damnation passing through their dead lips. Not that they had lips. Wraiths were just creepy motherfuckers.

There were four soldiers not including the Inquisitor and his soon to be companions. Three of them were warriors with each their own weapons: a long sword, short swords, and a battle axe. The fourth was an archer who hung back with Varric and Solas as support. His bow was not enhanced like Bianca, though no bow was like Bianca, but he was an excellent archer. He released the arrows fast and with precise precision, barely a waver in his step as he moved around the battlefield for better angles. With Cassandra and Mr. Mass now included in the fray the battle did not last long. It was over as soon as an arrow struck the last shade demon in middle of its forehead and it disappeared back into the fade. Solas wasted not a moment as he immediately marched to Mr. Mass's side and grasped his wrist.

"Quickly!" He shouted, face etched with frantic worry. "Before more come through!" He aimed Mr. Mass's large hand directly towards the rift and green light exploded from Mr. Mass's hand directly towards the rift.

My eyes widen as the rift shuddered from the force. Then, as if the rift was made of thread, it closed by tendrils of lights reattaching together. The Inquisitor let out a yell of pain as more light exploded from his hand, and the rift collapsed in on itself. It disappeared with a bright flash of light and a loud ziiip. Mr. Mass tore his hand from Solas as if he was on fire, and inspected it with a look of awe and panic.

"What did you do?" Mr. Mass asked looking bewildered, and maybe, frightened? Well, that was new. I don't recall the Inquisitor being scared of the anchor before.

"I did nothing." Solas replied casually looking unfazed but a bit worn. "The credit is yours." That…had me pausing. Watching the scene play out before my eyes definitely brought things into perspective. How Solas just totally distanced himself from anything to do with the anchor. He placed all actions involving it on Mr. Mass, may it be the consequences good or bad. He then settled into a weary posture leaning against his staff as if it was there to support him. He made himself weak looking beside the Kossith. Which is not hard I'm sure, considering Mr. Mass's size, but I have no doubt Solas could be just as intimidating if the need arises. Still, seeing him willing to play submissive when he was surely anything but had me bristling.

"You mean this?" Mr. Mass inquired looking at his hand, eyes narrowed. The mark still had not disappeared instead pulsed on his head in a soft green glow as it dimmed.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand." The elf began to explain. "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake." Solas's well placed mask cracked just slightly. If I had not been staring at him so intensely I would have missed it. He could not help himself, even in a bold face lie, to look smug at being right about something. It shined in his eyes – the pride. "And it seems I was correct."

Cassandra, obviously tired of the chatter, immediately got down to business. "Meaning it could also close the breach itself."

At that, Solas faltered and genuinely looked uncertain. "Possibly." And he glanced at Mr. Mass with a look of conviction. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

Mr. Mass looked between the two then back to his hand before clenching his jaw and staring hard.

"Good to know!" Varric exclaimed sounding ecstatic but equally sarcastic. "Here I thought we would be ass-deep in demons forever."

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. It was the same grin I always got whenever Varric spoke. That dwarf could always turn my mood around.

"Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwanted tagalong." He aimed that last bit towards the seeker. Cassandra scowl deepened further, which I wasn't sure was humanly possible, and made a disgusted noise from the back of her throat. I almost whistled I was so impressed. This was defiantly one of the most intense love-hate relationship I had ever seen.

"I know you." Mr. Mass spoke up raising his brows. "You are the author of the Tale of the Champion."

The light in Varric's eyes brighten substantially, and his ever-there grin widened even more. He didn't even look surprised that Mr. Mass knew of his book, but that didn't stop him from looking absolutely pleased by the fact.

"Why yes I am." The dwarf boasted while setting Bianca back on his holster. "It's always good to meet people who've read my books even at the end of world. Makes my chest hair shine. Though I am surprised a Tal-Vashoth would be interested reading such fanciful tales. Most Vashoth I've come across are grunt or stab kind of people."

This conversation was going into a completely different direction then what I expected. Was this option even part of the dialogue? I wondered with confusion. Whenever I arrived at this part in the game I had always chosen the option about Bianca the crossbow. It was there to satisfy the Bianca fans of DA and I was defiantly one of them. How could I resist not complimenting her? It wasn't even an option. Still, this conversation felt unscripted. Random. Then again, my dream hasn't exactly followed the storyline so far anyway. Why would I expect it to do so now?

"It was light reading." Mr. Mass confessed as he crossed his arms and stared down hard at the dwarf. "And I am not Tal-Vashoth."

Varric's brows shot up in surprised. "I didn't think you were Qunari."

Mr. Mass shook his head, his frown deepening as his eyes burned with irritation. "No, not Qunari. Not Tal-Vashoth. I am Adaar. Kaaras Adaar."

The entire pass fell silent at his outburst. The soldiers busied themselves with checking their weapons or scanning the area. Solas was watching the scene silently, expression blank and uninterested, but his eyes twinkled with some amusement. Cassandra was stoic as ever in her stance, but her expression had softened a bit making her look more human and less gargoyle. Varric was the most expressive of the bunch. He looked taken back - surprised about the outburst and the amount of venom he was receiving from the Kossith. But that emotion quickly washed away as an expression of embarrassment succumbed the dwarf. Though, that too went away just as quickly, and was replaced by indifference.

"Uhh, yeah, okay." Varric mumbled with a shrug and a shake of his head. "Note to self: touchy subject."

Well, at least I learned his name, finally. I thought to myself with a raised brow. I can finally stop calling him Mr. Massive in my head. And his name was canon. So that was also a plus.

"My name is Solas-" Inputted the elf suddenly as he stepped closer to Kaaras. "-if there is to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."

Varric chuckled. "He means: "I kept that mark from killing you while you slept"."

Solas cocked a brow at the dwarfs, frowning slightly, while Kaaras turned looking at his palm – which had finally stopped glowing.

"You did?" the Kossith asked glancing down at the elf. "Thank you."

Solas smiled softly at the praise. "You can thank me if we manage to close the breach without killing you in the process." He then shifted his gaze to the seeker who was pacing impatiently beside the group. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I would find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Yeah, anyone who is not you or your pantheon. That elvhen god was the perfect example of a pathological liar.

Cassandra paused, and stared at Solas with a scrutinizing gaze, before nodding slowly. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly." And Cassandra took off forward without hesitation. Kaaras and Solas soon followed her without hesitation or question. Only Varric hung back with his arms crossed and expression amused.

"Shouldn't we at least let our audience introduce themselves before we go?" He called out in question. Cassandra abruptly froze mid-stride her shoulders tense. She didn't move for a moment, so I could only imagine her expression, before her head turned ever so slowly around. Kaaras stopped too, but he didn't turn around, just stood there with his arms crossed - waiting. Solas looked momentarily lost, looking at the group with a confused expression. I mirrored his confusion. What the hell was he talking about 'audience'? It wasn't until Cassandra's smoldering gaze caught mine that I realized I was the audience. I momentarily cursed myself. I was so caught up in the dialogue, I totally forget I was actually here. Blushing as seven pairs of eyes landed on my person, I clumsily moved away from my hiding spot.

"Uhh, hello?" I gave an awkward wave, momentarily forgetting I was still holding my daggers. "Oh, sorry. Should probably put these away." My voice trailed off at the last part, barely an audible whisper. Tossing the daggers into my bag, I moved to edge of broken bridge, and began to climb down carefully as I could. I wasn't as skilled as Kaaras and Cassandra at jumping a five foot downfall and still land on my feet. Though, apparently, being careful was not enough (or maybe god just hated me today). For when my right foot pressed my full weight down upon what I thought safe footing – it crumbled - and down I went.

"Aaaah!" I screamed as my body tilted forward, and I fell face first onto the stone floor, my legs flailing behind me.

..

Nope, god most definitely hated me today. I groaned in misery, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow me. There was an exaggerated cough above me causing me to open one eye. I blinked owlishly at the sight of Varric standing above me a hand held out and a large grin plastered on his face.

"Well, wasn't expecting that." He laughed a twinkle in his brown eyes. "You've got to be the clumsiest mage I've ever seen, and I've seen some characters out there."

I took his hand nervously into my own. I did my best to not to show my surprise at how calloused his hand felt in mine. How real it felt. Even more surprising was how strong his grip was. With one pull, the dwarf lifted my five foot nine self onto my feet.

"Thanks." I laughed as my cheeks burned with a vengeance. "Though, not a mage." I bent over to pick up my fallen staff and gazed over it quickly for any damage. Though, I did this in order to avoid looking at everyone's penetrating gaze. So embarrassing! My mind screamed at me. This is not how I wanted the first meeting to go at all!

"Not a mage?" Varric repeated sounding a little surprised. "Then why do you carry a staff?"

I shrugged as I brushed off nonexistent dust from my staff. "A walking stick, I guess. Plus it has a pointy end. I could skewer any baddies that come close to me with it." I grinned and pointed to the end that looked just like a spear except a crystal ball sat in the middle of the blade twinkling purple and blue in the light.

"Uh huh." Varric cocked a brow in question before shaking his head. "Well, I guess that would work…"

"Oh!" I exclaimed suddenly, and I shifted the staff to my left hand and held out my right. "The names Jemma – with a J. Jemma Green."

Varric looked at my hand, gazing at like it was a foreign creature, and I suddenly felt very awkward. Do people handshake in Thedas? I was pretty sure someone somewhere gave one of my characters a handshake one time. Maybe in Ferelden? Before I could awkwardly pull my hand back to my side, Varric struck his own hand out and placed it in mine.

"Varric Tethras." He replied and gave our hands one up-down shake. His grip was loose and weak in my own – like he wasn't sure what to do. It made me feel even more awkward.

I brushed aside the weirdness of it all, and smiled brightly. "I know. I heard." I then glanced behind his back to gaze at Bianca. Should I? I mean…no one said it. It couldn't hurt, but…

Varric must have noticed my gaze because he gave me a knowing smirk as he turned his head around to look at her. "And this here is Bianca - the finest companion a dwarf could ask for."

I laughed. "She is a beautiful crossbow."

"Isn't she?" He inquired, giving her hilt a loving pet. "She'll be great company in the valley."

At that, Cassandra's head snap towards Varric as she glowered. "Absolutely not!" She marched over to the dwarf displeasure written all over her face. "Your help is much appreciated Varric, but…"

Varric held up a hand, immediately interrupting her. "Have you seen the valley lately, seeker?" He narrowed his eyes, expression serious. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." He couldn't help himself as he looked a little bit smug at saying the last part.

"He is right, Lady Seeker." Confessed one the soldiers – the bowman. He looked on passed Cassandra with a weary expression on his face. His eyes were almost lifeless; hallow, and his voice was weak. "We've already lost the Western Hills and the Dracon Passageway. There is not much more we can do."

The seeker scowl softened as she acknowledge the soldier. She considered just a moment before letting out a long sigh of defeat. "Fiiine, but we must go now. We've wasted too much time."

Varric held out a hand, and looked up ever-so innocent at her. "By your leave, Seeker." Cassandra made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat as she stomped away.

"A moment Seeker." Called out Solas causing Cassandra to once again stop. I could only just imagine her expression at being once again unable to continue on with the mission.

"What is it apostate?" She snapped, eyes molten gold as she stared annoyed at the elvhen god.

Solas took it all in stride as he walked closer. "I have an inquiry: why have you brought a civilian girl out into a war zone? She is clearly unexperienced and cannot properly defend herself. She is a trifle, and is nothing more than fodder for the demons."

My jaw hit the ground. What…? Did he just…? Did he really just…?

"Ow." Varric grimaced, shuffling awkwardly. "That was a bit harsh."

Fodder! I know, I don't know how to fight…! I seethed, my face burning with indignation

"She is a prisoner." Cassandra stated matter-of-factly, glancing between Solas then me. "She is a part of this. Whether she be part of the cause or the solution is unclear."

…but fodder! That is going too far! That is like saying I'm nothing more than the dirt underneath your shoe! Well, listen hear Fen'harel buddy! I know….!

"What if she is to die?" the elvhen god proposed, face blank and uninterested.

…a shit ton of-! Wait. What? Die? Who dies? I die? I die! The heavy silence was filled with my horrified squeak. "W-wait a minute! Who said anything about me dying?"

"It would be unfortunate…" Cassandra paused, blatantly ignoring my "damn right", and turned back around. "…but I would consider it a matter taken care of by itself."

My voice caught in my throat, and my eyes widened in alarm. What does that mean? Does Cassandra have no intention of protecting me if I am in harm's way? But that didn't make any sense?. She has done so till now. My face paled in fear and a heavy rock settled in my stomach. No, Cassandra would protect me with all her strength, but if I should die…my loss would not affect her in anyway. In fact, it would alleviate her burden. I was nothing more than baggage to her.

Solas mumbled something softly in elvhen, and grasped his staff with both hands before nodding. Cassandra repeated the gesture, and took off forward again. She was less aggressive and urgent in her pace, but there was a stiffness in her shoulders that revealed her agitation.

I stood there beside Varric, opening and closing mouth as the rest of the group followed the seeker. I was unsure of what to say? Of what to do? I felt like I should defend myself, but in what way? I was no better at words than I was with swords. At that moment, I truly felt lost and alone.

A hand pressed against the small my back, and looked down startled to see Varric. He was staring on ahead a grim expression on his face.

"Come on." He ushered, pushing me forward. "Must not get left behind." I stumbled, for my legs had turned into jelly, only catching myself with the help of my staff and Varric's strong grip. I was no longer looking in awe at my surrounding, instead, I studied the toes of the borrowed boots I was wearing. I felt small and helpless. Like I was not worthy of even being surrounded by such great individuals. They all thought I was useless. That I was going to die. My grip tightened around staff. I think I'm going to die.

And I really, really, didn't want to die. God, someone help me.

...

...

...

..

.

..

...

...

...

The chapters are slowly getting longer and longer. Each chapter are about 500 - 800 words longer than the last. xD I dread how long the chapters will be when I finally get out of the prologue. As you can tell, I'm trying to stay on canon with little tweaks here and there. She is not going to steal other peoples lines or steal peoples triumphs. She is a factor that no one expected, and she will mess a lot of things up because of it. Good and bad. Poor Solas. She will drive him crazy, and vice versa.

Kait