Amy Dallon, Herald of Andraste

[Kylia Quilor]

Author's Note: I want to make it 110% clear. This is not canon to this series. This is a (hopefully) funny joke of an Omake inspired by jokes and discussions in my channel in the Gaylor Discord server.

This is not canon to this fic. Amy is not actually having this dream as she lies unconscious in the tunnel she fell in. None of what the Maker says here is really canon to this fic.

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I should be in pain. She had been in pain the last thing she remembered. Her fractured right arm, the dull ache in her left after Corypheus tried to take the Anchor back. There was the stabbing pain in her thigh, and her whole body should be aching from hitting the sides of the hole as she fell down it and then hit the bottom of the hole. She didn't feel any of it.

Of course, she should also be dead and buried under all the ice, snow and rocks that fell down on Haven and would have buried her in the hole Blackwall had shoved her into. She could only assume that was him trying to give her a chance to live... but she'd be buried under a damn avalanche, if she lived. She'd die of hunger eventually, or freeze to death.

But she wasn't in pain now, she was probably dead. But she was conscious. Which meant... there was some kind of afterlife.

But there was a distinct lack of the feeling of being on fire. Or being poked by demons with pitchforks. Or anything she'd associate with hell. She could have ended up in Heaven, against all odds (something she'd never have imagined a few months ago), but she didn't hear harps or feel a breeze or whatever either.

If she was in Heaven, someone would realize she didn't belong here purely on the basis of being an atheist soon enough, right?

Most likely, Hell (and Heaven) didn't exist, even if some kind of afterlife did - assuming she was dead - and she was in... something else. Or maybe because she died on Thedas, she went to wherever Thedosian sinners and unbelievers went. Something about a void, maybe? That sounded right. A void away from the Maker's side or whatever.

"If I'm in some sort of void for not believing in the Maker and... everything else, that would explain why I can't see anything..." Amy mused aloud, a little surprised - even though she supposed she shouldn't be - that her voice showed none of the strain she'd had moments before from all her screaming.

"Or your eyes could still be closed," a feminine voice said near her. The voice was - melodious, a harmony of beauty and wonder. Then there was a laugh, a shining ray of sun after a rainstorm.

"What the fuck, why am I suddenly thinking like a poet?" She was also confused as to why she suddenly realized only now that her eyes were closed. She opened them and the first thing she saw a.. Woman. A perfectly ordinary woman.

Her bright red hair - brighter than Katerina's by several shades - the woman looked to be in her mid-40s, her hair done up in a sensible bun. She was wearing a dark green plain dress a lot like the ones she'd seen on older women in Haven or the Crossroads or other villages on Thedas. Homespun and made of probably wool and kind of layered and with lots of pockets. She had a yellow shawl wrapped around her shoulders, looking like it was kitted or crocheted or something.

"Who are-" Amy started, looking around. She was... in a living room? A normal living room that wouldn't have been out of place anywhere on Earth-Bet. There were armchairs, a couch, pictures on the walls, a TV... "Where am I?" If Hell looked like a suburban living room, that would... almost make sense?

"In order: My husband loves my singing voice and my laugh so much he made it impossible for mortals to describe my voice with 'mundane' descriptors. I am Andraste. You are in my home." She ticked off on her fingers as she answered each question.

Amy blinked. "You said that with such a straight face, as if any of that makes sense." She was - she wasn't looking at Andraste. That was impossible. She was not in the home of the 'husband' of Andraste. That was - the Maker. Because she refused to believe that the Maker's house looked so goddamn normal. He was - shouldn't he live in some heavenly palace? That was a plasma widescreen TV for fuck's sake.

And the woman - she couldn't be Andraste. She looked too normal! She wasn't ugly - she was even moderately pretty, in a normal sort of way. She looked mid-40s, and she had the look of a woman who had had a few children and never quite fully lost all the baby weight from any of them.

"You know, my husband thinks atheists are fun, always likes to debate them for an hour whenever they show up, but I don't have the patience for that." Andraste reached over and took Amy's hand. Her power sense picked up... nothing, but somehow, she felt, experienced a vastness, a grand expanse of golden light. A presence that wrapped around her. She gasped, rolling back as she sat on the floor away from Andraste, letting go of the other woman.

"What did you -" Amy started, on the verge of hyperventilating, looking at the woman who absolutely couldn't be Andraste, but who she knew had to be. "Did you - " she scrambled back., "Did you just Master me?"

Andraste laughed, golden of rain patter on a piano, the delight of a fluffy kitten on a bad day - STOP THAT. Amy was already tired of that.

"No. I appreciate why you think that, but what I did was far simpler - I exposed your soul to a tiny glimpse of my divinity. It's just a fragment of what my husband has. But divinity can't actually be denied by mortals. Once you experience it... you know it's true. It's a fixed fact of the universe for you."

"...that sure sounds a fuck of a lot like Mastering."

"I'm no more Mastering your mind than you touching a hot stove and feeling burnt is a Striker hurting you, Amy."

Amy opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and tried to say 'You're not Andraste' but... she couldn't command her mouth to form the words. She knew they were a lie, at the core of her being.

"You don't look like what I thought Andraste would look like," Amy finally managed, and Andraste let out a long suffering sigh. "You get that a lot?"

"You have no idea." Andraste rolled her eyes. "So what is it? That I'm not blonde? That I don't look like some warrior woman who led an army across a continent in armor and bearing a sword?" She raised an eyebrow, "Or did you expect someone with 'magnificent tits' like your 'friend' Katerina would put it." Andraste actually held up her hands and did airquotes when she said friend.

"Why would you - I mean - Katerina - she is my friend, but I -" Amy flushed, trying not to look at Andraste's chest - not that the dress did more than generally suggest she had breasts on the larger side, fitting for the appearance of someone who had had multiple kids and looked to be in her 40s. "I can't exactly see your -" Amy cut herself off as she realized the implications of what she was saying, "Not that I'm asking you to-"

"Amy, take a breath," Andraste insisted, and Amy shut up. "I won't tell you why I referred to Katerina like that, because that would be spoilers." Spoilers? What the - "As for my breasts..." Andraste shrugged, "I've never been attracted to the feminine form, mind you, so I imagine I'm not the best judge, but I've always felt like my breasts were pretty average."

"I've always thought they were very lovely myself," A masculine voice that was otherwise so nondescript she couldn't think of a single word to describe its sound or tone, even when she tried. She turned to look at the speaker. They were... male. They wore a blacksmith's apron and had a bunch of tools poking out of pockets in the apron, and he had a modern welder's mask covering his face. He lifted the mask and...

He had a face. It was male. He had eyes and a nose and a mouth and ears and hair and -

She just could not come up with words to describe any of it. It was like she was looking at the literal definition of 'nondescript'.

"You're biased," Andraste said, standing and turning to what Amy had to assume was the Maker. "And you have to say that sort of thing or I'll make you sleep in that cot in your workshop." She leaned in and gave the Maker a quick kiss on the cheek, then looked back at Amy. "Amy, this brilliant idiot is my husband. You've heard of him as the Maker. Love, this is Amy Dallon."

"Amy..." He mouthed the name, as if confused, like he'd heard the name before, then he grinned. "Right! Amy Dallon. Panacea - or PanPan as that clever dwarf keeps calling you!" He moved closer and grabbed Amy's hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically as he shook her hand. Amy stared at him, not trying to pull her hand back as he kept going.

"Big fan of your work. Curing someone of the Taint by just making them spit out chunks of it? Absolutely masterful, never would have thought of that. And then getting the Templars and mages to help you with the Breach, at the same time!? Inspired!"

"What?" Amy stammered after a long, confused moment. "You're real?" Obviously he was, but -

"I mean, I was last time I checked," he poked his chest, then turned to Andraste. "Dear, am I real?"

"To my occasional annoyance, yes," Andraste told him. The Maker looked back at Amy.

"See? My wife says I'm real, so I am, unless you want to start getting philosophical about -"

"Let's assume I don't.," Amy said, and she saw the Maker frown in disappointment. "But that - does that mean that - the Christian... Jewish... Muslim, whatever else he is too, God is real? Like with Jesus and Noah and Eden and stuff?"

"Yes and no," The Maker said, fingers on his chin.

"Yes and no? Whether or not 'God' exists feels like it should have a definitive answer?!"

"Well, the thing is, he does exist... just... not on Earth-Bet?" The Maker sounded genuinely apologetic, which somehow annoyed Amy even more.

"He exists, but not on Earth-Bet? What does that mean?!" Amy demanded, raising her voice.

"First, calm down, Amy. Have a cookie," Andraste said, and suddenly there was a plate of cookies warm from the oven in one hand. Amy let out a 'gah' sound then grabbed one of the cookies. It didn't have any visible... bits in it, so sugar cookie maybe? She took a bite. It had this sweet, caramel or toffee like flavor, with a hazelnut like taste at the end? It was... really good, and despite herself Amy let out a soft moan at the taste.

"This is unfairly delicious."

"You could almost say my wife's cooking is... divine, huh. Huh?" The maker raised an eyebrow, holding a hand out like a standup comedian trying to get a laugh from a disinterested room. Andraste whapped him on the back of his head gently, and for some reason, Amy expected to hear a sitcom laugh track.

"Get on with it dear. That cot in your workshop is looking quite lonely, lately," Andraste told the Maker, who nodded.

"Right." The maker said, then repeated himself. "Right. Where were we? Oh yes, Yahweh, Jehovah, Elohim - the guy who is always changing his name and appearance at parties. Remember when he came to our 500th anniversary as a burning bush? He's always so pretentious." He shook his head, and then, "Anyway - the short answer to your question is that Earths Bet and Aleph are not the only versions of your world out there. Yahweh has paid me licensing fees for at least a hundred thousand versions of Earth, but he's only 'real' on about... ten thousand of them? Something like that. And the whole Eden and Noah things are real to varying degrees on those ten thousand."

The Maker shook his head. "I don't know how he does it. One world with mortals is too much for me sometimes."

Amy blinked. Then she blinked again.

I suppose it feels fitting that God exists and yet Earth-Bet is literally godforsaken.

"So I'm... right to be an atheist on Earth-Bet?" Amy exhaled. "How can he be real on -" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "The long answer would be really long, right?"

"It would take you a few hundred years of studying 7th dimensional metaphysics, and you don't have that kind of time."

"...why not? I'm dead." Not that Amy wanted to spend hundreds of years of her being dead studying physics, but - "Wait. If God - Christian God, Yahweh, whatever - isn't real on Earth-Bet, than that means there's no afterlife there, right? Is that why I'm here? Because I died on Thedas?"

"Dying on the world Thedas is on - I really should get around to giving the planet a proper name, it's just got a numerical designation - does bring you to the afterlife of that world," the Maker 'explained'. "But also... you're not dead." He looked at Andraste, "You didn't tell her?"

"I was getting there, and then you showed up and we got sidetracked."

"I fell down a hole in the middle of an avalanche! Of course I'm dead! I broke my bones or got crushed or - or something... Why would I be here if I was alive, not hurting?"

"Because I brought you up here for a little chat," Andraste said.

"And that hole Blackwall pushed you into was a tunnel. You hit the bottom and rolled. You're banged up - really banged up - but alive. As long as you find your way out - and you will - you'll be found by the people you bought time for to escape Haven." The Maker explained. "Cassandra Pentaghast and Katerina chief among them."

Amy let out a breath. "So they got away?"

"Everyone but the people who died there at the Trebuchet got away," the Maker confirmed and Amy felt her shoulders sag. Then she processed something else the Maker had said.

"When they find me. So - you didn't take me here so you could say 'congrats on closing the Breach, here's a portal home, job well done?'Or anything like that?"

"Technically, Corypheus isn't dead," The Maker started but he went on quickly, before Amy could do more than inhale sharply. "But more importantly, I can't actually send you back to Earth-Bet."

"You're a God!"

"Of the worlds in my power. So I could send you to one of the other ones, but they don't have people."

"...I'm not ruling that out." Amy said, not really meaning it, but tempted for half a second.

"There's also no books or coffee on them."

"...nevermind." Now she wasn't even tempted. "If you can't send me back to Earth-Bet because you - what don't have power there, then how did I end up in Thedas? WHY did I end up in Thedas? WHY ME!?" She shouted the last two words.

"I didn't take you from Earth-Bet. I took you from the void between worlds. That crazy woman with the bombs is the one who put you there."

...so I can blame it on Bakuda?

Amy didn't remember being in a void between worlds, but then, she didn't remember anything between Bakuda's bomb went off and waking up in the cell. And also... did she want to remember being in a place called a 'Void'? Wouldn't that be some blank featureless place. How long had she -

"Wait, was I in the Void for long? Is Earth-Bet-"

"You were in the Void for a few minutes, don't worry. And just so you don't worry about it, your sister is alive and unharmed. She's been dealing with a lot, from the glimpse I took at Earth-Bet a little bit ago, but she's alive."

Amy let out a breath, feeling her shoulders sag again. She looked down at the ground, then took another bite of her cookie. Damn, that was good. Like, seriously, what the fuck how could any cookie, even one made by a God, be this good?

"Okay, fine," Amy said, trying to force herself to stay calm. She took a breath. Then another. "Okay. So why me? Why did you pluck me out of the Void?"

"Would you have rather stayed there?"

"Not the point! Why did you put me in Thedas in position to stop Corypheus. Or was that an accident?"

"No, no, that was on purpose."

"Then why me? You - you have an entire continent worth of people who follow you you could have picked!"

"There really wasn't anyone physically present at the Conclave that would have been better than you," The Maker explained. "I didn't expect you to be able to save people from the Taint, but your healing abilities were going to be really useful and I could be sure you wouldn't try to misuse the Inquisition's power or the authority from everyone deciding my wife and I sent you."

"I - I can't possibly have been better than all the people at the Conclave!"

"You absolutely were."

"Bullshit!"

"No, it's true."

"Then send someone else! You knew what he was planning in time to send me there, what did you only figure it out five minutes before he nabbed Divine Justinia?" Andraste gave her husband a knowing smirk, and the Maker bit his lip and looked down sheepishly. "Wait, what? You - How could you - you're the Maker! You're supposed to be omniscient!"

"Well, I'm not. No God is, except maybe Ao or Illuvatar, and they cheat, and only for certain of their worlds anyway." The Maker shrugged. "And it wasn't five minutes! It was three days. There was no way I could get anyone to the Temple of Sacred Ashes in time that would have been better."

"THREE DAYS? I - Corypheus was running around for years!"

"He only got really dangerous on a mass scale after he got that orb of his." The Maker muttered something under his breath, something about a wolf and being irresponsible, "And even then, I didn't really realize what he was up to because..." he looked away, then lowered his voice... "I don't really pay much attention to Thedas day to day."

"WHAT?"

"I have an entire planet to manage! I've been busy custom designing a new planet for Ao - that smug jerk keeps demanding taller mountains and more floating islands and getting those right isn't actually easy! And- Thedas is too depressing to pay close attention to." He gestured at his wife, "Keeping an eye on it is Andraste's job anyway."

Did he just throw his wife under the bus?

"Yes, and I'm even less omniscient than you are, so don't go blaming this on me. It's not my fault you don't want to watch Thedas."

"It kind of is, dear, since the Chantry is most of the reason why I'm so depressed every time I look at Thedas. I didn't want them to do that to the Elves!"

"You think I did?"

"You didn't do a very good job of making sure they wouldn't!"

"I'm sorry, I was a little too busy overthrowing the Tevinter Imperium and then getting betrayed by Maferath and burned alive!" Andraste growled.

"SHUT UP!" Amy raised her voice before they went on with what she assumed was a very familiar argument. "There isn't a laugh track, and you two are not a sitcom about a suburban couple!" She was a little surprised they both shut up, and that they both had the decency to look sheepish. "You're a GOD. What kind of God doesn't pay attention to part of their own creation because it's depressing!"

"You can't tell me Thedas isn't depressing. Oppression, bigotry, hatred, war, Blights, good people getting dragged down by the weight of it all all the time, blood magic, Tevinter, the Qunari-"

"Of course Thedas is depressing. Thedas fucking sucks!" Amy shouted. "But I'm not the one who created it!"

"That makes it even more depressing! I'm the one who sent humans into Thedas in the first place after that stupid wolf idiot wrecked the place and look how that turned out! Tevinter!" The Maker grimaced. "Every time I try to help Thedas out, it goes wrong. Andraste's the only good thing that came out of that mess of a continent." The Maker sighed. "Yes, I should have noticed sooner, I should have realized what Corypheus was up to, especially since the man shit the bed last time he was walking around, especially once he got that damned orb, but I didn't. And like I said, by the time I realized what was happening, there was no way I could get someone to the Conclave in time."

Amy let out a growl, hands in her hair, then she dropped them to her side, biting her lip.

"So - that joke I told Solas about me being the best you could do on short notice is true?!"

"...yeah, more or less," The Maker conceded, looking away and biting his lip.

"Jesus Christ!" Amy hissed.

"Much more chill guy than his dad. He comes over for board game night once a year. Him, Kord,-" The Maker started, then cut himself off. "Not the point, right, sorry."

Who the fuck is Kord, and that Ao guy he mentioned? And Illuvatar? Other gods, presumably, but -

Amy shoved that off to the side. She didn't care. She had a bigger question to deal with.

"Okay, so you can't send me home?"

"Correct."

"So... when I wake up, I'm still in Thedas, and I'll have to help the Inquisition beat Corypheus?"

"I mean, you don't have to, but he's going to try to kill you and, he's still-"

"An evil freakshow that wants to become a God?"

"Yeah. That." The Maker nodded. Amy sighed. "But it's not so much you helping the Inquisition as-" He was cut off by Andraste hitting his arm with the back of her hand.

"Spoilers, dear!"

"Oh right!" The Maker said. "Sorry, can't go into more detail."

"...I hate you both so much right now." Amy muttered. She pulled a hand down her face. "So am I just... stuck on Earth-Bet forever, unless Professor Haywire's alien brain parasite shows up on Thedas and someone Tinkers up a portal?"

"Not necessarily." The Maker said. "That bald friend of yours may be a jackass, but he's always been clever and consistently able to surprise me. If anyone on Thedas right now can find a way for you to get home, it's probably him."

"Bald Jackass? You mean Solas?" Amy furrowed her brow. "Sure, he plays the 'mysterious man of mystery' schtick too much and is obviously arrogant but I mean - you're a God who doesn't pay much attention to Thedas, so why do you have specific feelings about him and not... I dunno, Cassandra?"

"Cassandra is brilliant. The way she killed a Dragon with another Dragon?! I have that one on instant replay. If we had more time, I'd show you." The Maker said, gesturing to his TV.

"She's also a good woman, a truly devout woman without being a fanatic, and she genuinely cares very deeply for you," Andraste said. "I'm quite proud of Cassandra."

Amy blinked. Cassandra would love to hear that. And Amy's chest felt tight at the divine confirmation of how much Cassandra cared about her... not that she had much doubt at this point, but -

"As for Solas... I can't really say much. Spoilers, you understand." The Maker concluded.

"Why do you two keep talking about spoilers? What is going on with Solas? Why do you not like him!?"

"Well, would you look at the time?" The Maker said, looking at his right arm, which suddenly had five watches on it. His tone wasn't even trying to be subtle about the sudden topic change. "It's time to send you back. This will feel disorienting for about a second," He reached over and tapped her forehead very lightly before she could stop him, and Amy lurched as the entire room warped and twisted like Vista was nearby,

Then she spun in place without moving and everything went black.

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Author's Note: again, I want to reiterate that this is not Canon to the main fic. Just funny.

That said, some other funny bits I couldn't quite work into the chapter.

1. The Maker makes custom worlds for other gods as his primary day job. (This is why he doesn't do much as a God even in the parts he pays closer attention to, day to day) That's why he's making a planet for Ao (who, for those not familiar, is the Overgod of the Forgotten Realms setting). He is the one who designed the original OG planet Earth, including Pangea. He's still pissy at Yahweh and the other gods of that OG Earth for both breaking up Pangea and killing all the dinosaurs.
2. The Maker made Thedas Dwarves on his own, albeit he definitely copied from other gods homework as it were, when it came to dwarves. He also made the Titans.
3. God licensed the design for Thedas humanity from God/Yahweh
4. The Maker's other planets he's made have plenty of life, just nothing sentient. Lots of cool plants and animals. A few straight up Death Worlds that Shaper would probably love to get a look at.
5. Yes, the Maker really doesn't like Solas. At all.