I know I've been horrible at finishing Affected but I've had this in my head for awhile and it is considerably shorter so I'm seeing if I can finish it in a couple weeks, I've got a much more solid outline. so we'll see. I wanted to explore the idea of a manipulative Inquisitor and red lyrium Cullen. Enjoy

~Vice

Her footsteps echoed down the stairwell, the silence accentuating her presence. Despite the collapse that had left the place in shambles it had always felt safe. The silence so comforting, so complete Envy's voice could not reach her here. The Undercroft had as similar effect, she suspected it had something to do with the water cascading downward towards a seemingly unknowable abyss. The why didn't really matter only the silence. It may have seemed strange that her favourite place in all of Skyhold was the dungeon, but Estelle cared little. The ghosts of those she had sent to the gallows or the block never haunted her, these days only betrayal and the demon Envy plagued her.

She had sent as many as she could to the stocks, they would await judgment publicly and all would know they had wronged the Inquisition. It was also done in a selfish bid to keep the dungeon for herself.

Despite her efforts her retreat was not empty and the silence was cut with a all too familiar voice raised in anger. "Is it my turn to be branded a traitor for questioning what we've become?" The words were distant yet familiar, she had heard them before but not aloud, not in reality. But Envy could not touch her here. This was not her mind, nor was it the fade. Her Chest tightened as she approached the guard before the occupied cell. "I am I next to be charged with heresy?"

Estelle willed her heart to become stone as she faced the man confined in her prison.

"Not heresy, but conspiring treason." Placing a hand on the guards shoulder she let some warmth into her voice. "They've warm stew in the mess. It wouldn't do for you to spend your shift hungry."

"But you're worship-" The guard tried to protest but Estelle would not let her continue.

"Your post won't be empty." She waived the anchor letting it glow, "And if I can't handle one caged Templar than what hope is there?" The guard chuckled "Go fill your belly, I'll be here when you return." She eyed Cullen letting some of her anger seep into her words "we both will."

The guard looked to her inquisitor to her former commander and then saluted Estelle before making her way towards the stairs.

Estelle gripped her wrists behind her back adopting a military stance as the guard's footsteps echoed in the distance. The silence stretched as she stared at her prisoner, eyes hard and angry.

"Why?" Her voice was strained and her facade of control slipped. She didn't really need to ask she knew why.

Despite his training, despite his experience, he was soft. Cullen was not made of steel, not like her. He would do what was needed but only to a point. Estelle found that the spymaster held together far better than the ambassador or the commander. Josephine had crumbled, refused to continue her association with the Inquisition and its deeds. She had thrown herself from the parapets, and if Estelle had helped her to do so it was of little consequence. They could not afford such weakness, Andraste herself had told Estelle that back when she still spoke to her herald.

Cullen had not crumbled like Josephine but he had buckled. It had been slow, and painful but she had watched the man's morals eat him from the inside out, and now it had come to this. She'd seen it coming. If she let him, he would be her Maefarath, not for the vanity of the original but for his own defunct morals.

It made Estelle love him. It made her hate him. She may have been Adraste's Herald but she would not burn as the prophet had. No pyre would end Estelle's crusade not unless all of Thedas was burning with her.

But he couldn't know that, if he knew that he wouldn't speak with her now. If he knew that there wouldn't be remorse mixed with anger staring back at her. If he knew that, he'd never even try to answer her question.

"You are abusing your power, making more enemies than we can stand against, and condemning innocents who disagree. What choice did we have but to try and stop you?"

"Assassination isn't your style love." She let the last word bite, he had shared her bed as he had plotted her death. She may have know it was coming but it did not mean that it hadn't hurt. He at least had the decency to flinch.

"I said stop not kill. You are the only one that can close the rifts but-"

"You disagree with my methods." She finished for him. "Though it seems you're co-conspirators feel differently about my death, two not only confessed to planning it but threatened me further. " Sera had never been subtle. It was a shame; Estelle admired the woman's knack for mischief. "I have no proof that you feel any different than them."

"I'm no shortsighted fool," his anger dissipated as he hung his head "and I never wanted you dead." The pain that racked his voice was what she had come to hear. He didn't hate her, not completely an she needed that. She needed to use that. "I have seen power corrupt the most righteous. After Meredith I told myself that I could see such corruption coming. Yet twice I've been blinded as those I've trusted lose themselves to power."

Estelle was weary leaning her back against the bars she slid to the floor. "I am just doing my job." She couldn't look at him, she knew he wouldn't be convinced. Even if she had expected his betrayal it hurt her. " I- I never asked for this." The anchor crackled it's familiar pain lancing up her arm. Her voice cracked "Do you remember the day you gave me the position?"

He sounded wistful, "I was so proud of you that day." She heard the creak of his cot as he sat, "I was ready to follow you into the black city itself."

The silence stretched between them before she whispered "What happened?"

"You changed"

She snorted, "Of course I did. The Maker did not mean for us to stagnate as the elves do. I was made into a symbol overnight. That would change anyone. But even then you used to talk to me when something was wrong."

"Would you have listened? Would you now? If nothing had changed if we hadn't- " He wouldn't utter it aloud, "If this hadn't happened and I came to you today would you have listened?"

"Of course."

"Would you have don anything different?" Silence greeted his question. "I thought so."

"So plotting my end was the only solution?" Her tone was venomous as she lifted herself from the floor, "believe it or not I am Andraste's Herald, what I do is the Maker's will."

"So it is the maker demanding my execution. It will be him responsible for my death, not you?"

"I..." Her rage faded to bitterness "I'll wield the blade tomorrow, blame who you wish."

Barely audible Cullen whispered "Promises, promises." a cruel reminder of what once had been.

Estelle took a deep breath and turned to leave, as she did the echo of crystal on stone broke the silence. They both focused their attention on the small shard of red that had fallen from her pocket.

Cullen looked up eyes narrowed on her suspiciously. "Is that-"

She pulled on a glove and bent to retrieve the crystal. "Red lyrium" He cast her a horrified look. He had never approved of her taking templar training, it seemed his opinion of her had lowered still. "It's for Helisma. There are still red templars about, and the research is important." She'd never resort to the red stuff, having Envy in her head was enough trouble. Singing lyrium would leave her no time for her own thoughts.

"They are still looking for a way to reverse it." She was referring to the crystals tendency to consume it's hosts and cause madness. "It's hard to be hopeful. Especially since we can't seem to take any red templars alive." She returned the lyrium to her pocket and looked him in the eye. "I should get this to Helisma, sooner rather than later."

"What about me?"

She signed as she turned to walk away. "You'll be judged tomorrow morning, and I'll see you at the block after noon."

"I meant why not use me," she carefully turned back towards the cage. "you need a willing subject to work on the cure for red lyrium. Why not use me?"

"Absolutely not!" She was nearly shouting " You know what this stuff does to people, you've seen it! You'll be killed!"

"You'd rather chop of my head then?"

She stared at him unable to defend her anger. With no solid ground to stand on.

"Look at least this way I can still be of use."

She shook her head, "you worked too hard to get away from it." She drew the shard and held it in front of him. " you told me this was the reason why. You'd give that all up?"

"I'm dead already." She looked at him eyes darting, then she swiftly drew herself up straightening just as her tutors had taught her.

The emotion had drained from her voice, she was stone again. "You've given me something to consider. I will consult with Dagna. If it is feasible you may be spared the sword."

"Thank you Inquisitor." He sounded so calm now, so reasonable. She almost hated herself for doing this, but she would not balk.

"Don't thank me, not for this."