She had a gaze eerily reminiscent of a feral cat. The amber of her eyes was so bright it glowed a pure yellow in the candlelight surrounding the war table. And it was a forceful gaze - the way she looked at him seemed to challenge him, as if daring him to contradict her very being. The effect of that piercing stare was strangely at odds with the soft features of the rest of her face; her lips were a feminine curve of pink set below a button nose, and her hair was piled in a delicate array of golden blonde curls on the back of her head. A few strands had come loose to frame her face, contrasting with the golden brown freckles speckling her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She seemed to almost glow in shades of gold in the dim light. The Herald of Andraste.
Her magic rolled off her in waves, making the air ripple around him. Even now, when she wasn't casting, it was clear to him that she was a mage of great talent. It had been a long time since Cullen had felt magical power equal to hers, and he tensed immediately, his hand on his sword hilt and his weight shifting automatically towards her. His days as a templar may be over, but some things never fade. The wariness of magic was deeply ingrained in his backbone. As Cullen subconsciously braced himself for a fight, he saw the mage do the same in turn. He could feel her eyes boring into him, assessing his position, trying to spot his weaknesses before he found hers. She knew he was a templar. She could feel his instinctive animosity just as he could feel hers.
"Commander Cullen, this is our Lady Herald, Amalia Trevelyan," Cassandra, the Lady Seeker, had walked into the room behind the Herald and proceeded to make introductions, apparently oblivious to the tension in the room. Cullen forced his teeth to unclench and leaned back, breathing deeply through his nose to loosen his muscles. There was no danger here, he reminded himself. He dragged his lips into a slight smile and nodded his head towards the Herald. "It's a pleasure, my Lady Trevelyan." Cassandra nodded in approval at his formality, though her strong brow furrowed slightly as she finally picked up on the stressed situation.
The Herald loosened her own posture in response to his cordial greeting and nodded slightly, her lips curving up to one side in a darkly humorous acknowledgment of their silent standoff. "I've heard much about you, Lord Commander," she replied in turn. Cullen was immediately taken aback by her voice – he'd irrationally expected it to come out a feral snarl. It was, in fact, far softer than he'd imagined: feminine to the extreme, with a cultured accent that revealed her highborn heritage, if her surname hadn't done so already. He raised his eyebrows, and her entire body tightened again in response. She was wary. It further intensified her reminiscence to a feline predator; and she was definitely an apex predator, if he'd ever seen one.
"If you two are quite finished…" Cassandra remarked dryly, perhaps trying to diffuse the tension in her own way. "Lady Herald, there are still two councilors for you to meet." The mage immediately shifted her gaze from Cullen, and it was all he could do to not sigh in relief. Having those yellow eyes fixed on him was surprisingly unnerving. "This is Sister Leliana, our spymaster," Cassandra continued with the tour.
Leliana had been standing back, away from the halo of light emitted by the war table's candles. She stepped forward now, her eyes darting back and forth between the Commander and the Herald. Cullen almost sighed again. Far be it from Leliana to leave anything unnoticed. Undoubtedly, the spymaster had been anticipating numerous scenarios that could play out between him and the Herald – not forgetting, of course, to meticulously plan her reaction to each. Leliana was nothing if not prepared. The spymaster bowed her head slightly towards the Herald, a small smile playing on her lips. She was amused by Cullen's reaction. The notion irritated him slightly, but he brushed the feeling aside. Leliana knew he was working to rid himself of many of his old templar habits. Leliana also knew that he had a long way still to go.
"And this," continued Cassandra, after the Herald had returned Leliana's nod and suspicious glance, "is our ambassador, the Lady Josephine Montilyet. She coordinates our relations with any other powers we come into contact with."
Josephine smiled, waving her fingers behind her clipboard in a small greeting. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Trevelyan," Josephine said, bowing her head in a motion that echoed Leliana's from a moment before. The corner of Cullen's mouth turned up in a small smile at that – Leliana and Josephine were nearly inseparable, and he knew that Josephine looked up to Leliana as an older sister. Often, he noticed her following Leliana's lead whenever she was anxious. Apparently, he wasn't the only one that was somewhat nervous meeting their new comrade. Was comrade even the right term for the Herald? At least Cassandra had said the Herald was willing to cooperate with them.
Almost as if sensing his train of thought, Cassandra leaned forward, her hands on the war table, and looked at each of the others in turn. "I've promised that we would brief the Herald on the Inquisition's position, mission and plan. She has agreed to help us, to the best of her capabilities."
The Herald, who had been hanging back and sizing up the situation before moving closer, took a step towards the war table behind Cassandra. "I'm willing to help. If you're on a mission to close that breach… I'm right behind you." The Herald, Cullen assumed, had more reason to hate that breach than anyone. It had almost killed her, after all, before spitting her out. He'd heard she didn't remember anything of the moments leading up to her simply falling out of the green fracture in the sky. Cullen wasn't sure if she truly had forgotten, or if there was something she wasn't telling them – and, before this meeting, he had decided that he would give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she had nearly killed herself again attempting to close the breach, only a few hours after she had fallen out of it. He had known she would be a mage, but seeing her so close and feeling her magic… No, he wouldn't let her having magic cloud his judgment. The benefit of the doubt he had decided to give her must stand.
That had been three days ago. The Conclave, a high summit called by Divine Justinia, the leader of the Chantry, had been destroyed by an explosion. The leaders of the factions currently waging open war throughout Thedas had been called to attempt peace talks – and now they were all dead. Rubble and a mysterious green tear in the sky were all that were left to mark the site of the Conclave. Cullen didn't know what the fractal tearing the sky and painting it an unnatural green was. A bald elf mage, Solas, who had suddenly showed up in the chaos following the explosion, had explained that the fracture in the sky was actually a tear in the veil between this world and the Fade. The very thought had shivers running up and down Cullen's spine. Smaller versions of the original breach, which Solas had called "rifts", had been popping up all around their base of operations ever since the big explosion. They were spewing demons, which seemed to solidify Solas's argument that these tears did indeed lead to the Fade.
The Herald had been the only one to survive the Conclave, as far as they could tell. In the past three days, Cullen's men had searched up and down the mountainside surrounding the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Conclave had been held. They hadn't found a single living soul, apart from the Herald. And even the Herald wasn't quite as she had been before the explosion. Cullen glanced at the mage's hands, but they were covered with gloves – he wasn't even sure which hand it was that held the Mark. The Mark was part of the reason Lady Trevelyan had been named the Herald of Andraste. Based on what Cullen had heard, one of her hands glowed as green as the rifts around them, and she was able to harness the power of that mark to close the rifts. With Solas's instruction, she had tried to close the original breach as well – but to no avail. She had nearly died, and had spent the last three days in a comatose state, carefully monitored by Solas. The elf had pulled her through, though, and here she stood before them: so vibrantly and fiercely alive that he somehow doubted a simple breach would be able to kill her.
"Herald, you must understand that the Inquisition is still a fledgling organization," Cassandra had apparently been talking for a while. Cullen snapped himself out of his reverie to concentrate on the discussion. His eyes still lingered on the Herald's hands, though, half his mind idly wondering which hand it was that contained the magical mark. He saw one of the hands tighten into a fist, and looked up to see the Herald staring back at him, defiance written all across her expressive features. Cullen tried to soften his gaze, giving her a small lopsided smile. He had promised himself he would give her the benefit of the doubt, after all. He should know better than to scrutinize her so indiscreetly. Any mage under the studying gaze of a templar was bound to feel ill at ease. "My Lady Herald?" Cassandra, a little late once again, tugged the Herald back to their conversation from her renewed standoff with Cullen.
"Yes, Cassandra. I'm sorry, I was… distracted," the Herald smiled apologetically, releasing Cullen from her gaze, and turned to the Seeker. "I understand that the Inquisition is small. You've only just formed, after all."
"Quite," Cassandra said, sounding dry again. It seemed to be the Seeker's favored tone of voice. "We're seeking to build our forces to counter the threat of the breach, and to bring some kind of reason back into this chaos we're in. With the mages and templars openly at war, the head of the Chantry dead and Orlais locked in a civil war, there seems to be no authority with the will or the resources to tackle the breach. This is where we come in. The Chantry has, of course, denounced us, citing that your claim to be the Herald of Andraste is heresy."
"I never claimed to be the Herald," the Herald sighed, rolling her eyes in the slightest of motions. "It's not a title I feel entitled to, want, or need."
"Be that as it may," Leliana stepped in. "We have most certainly not discouraged the rumor from spreading. After all, we saw you fall out of the breach, alive when no one else was – and some who saw it claim that there was a woman standing behind you. The people want to think it is Andraste. And you can close the rifts… Well, let's just say the Inquisition would benefit a great deal from the people regarding you as a prophet sent by the Maker." The spymaster smiled slyly. "It's a better explanation for what has happened than anyone else has been able to offer, and we certainly want to be the ones to offer an explanation that's not sinister and doesn't link you to whoever caused this breach."
Josephine nodded in approval, as the Herald scoffed slightly, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She seemed truly uncomfortable at the notion of being labeled a prophet – not that Cullen could blame her. He wasn't entirely sure he would enjoy a title such as the Herald of Andraste much, either. Just as he was about to try to sympathize, the Herald spoke up. "So, the plan is to gather forces and influence so we're ready to counter… whatever this breach is, and whoever is behind it? Seems simple enough."
"The plan may be simple enough on paper, but I'm not entirely sure it will be as simple to pull off," Cullen warned. "We have been denounced by the Chantry, and we don't have enough influence as an organization to approach either the mages or the templars for assistance. We have no strings to pull."
"I beg to differ, Commander." Josephine always seemed a little smug when she was able to best Cullen at something, and he huffed in derision at the self-satisfaction in her tone now. "We have been approached by a certain Mother of the Chantry, who wishes to meet with our Herald. She is currently working in the Hinterlands, helping anyone inconvenienced by the war. She has asked our Herald to come meet with her, so that she may give us the key to approaching the Chantry."
"I'll just do that, then?" Cullen could've almost sworn he heard some annoyance in the Herald's tone as she spoke. He got the distinct impression that this was not a woman used to taking orders. "It's a start, at least." The Herald's tone was much softer now, leaving Cullen unsure if he had imagined her annoyance before.
"I'll come with you," Cassandra offered. Not surprisingly, thought Cullen – the Seeker was most definitely not one to sit around, waiting for someone else to do the work. "We shall take Solas, as well. He is knowledgeable about the breach, and he could be an asset should we run into any trouble." That was surprising. The Seeker had indicated nothing but distrust for the elven mage since he had shown up immediately following the breach, without even offering an explanation as to why he was here. However, the elf had saved the Herald's life and taught her to close rifts since then. Perhaps he was closer to gaining the Seeker's trust than Cullen had realized – or the Seeker had just grudgingly admitted that Solas was useful.
"And what of Varric? I'm sure he'd like to tag along as well," the Herald's mouth curled into a small smile as she spoke. Cullen was confused for a moment, before it came to him – Varric! Varric was the Thedas-renowned dwarven author Cassandra had essentially kidnapped for interrogation months earlier. Cullen never could remember his name.
Cassandra scoffed loudly. "Fine. We will take Varric." She over-pronounced hisname, her nose curling up as if she was talking about a cockroach. It was then that Cullen realized why the Herald was smiling. It hadn't escaped her notice, then, that Cassandra and Varric weren't the closest of friends. A small grin played upon his own lips in response.
"Shall we go ask them if they'd like to accompany us, then?" The Herald nodded her head curtly at Leliana, Josephine and Cullen before retreating out the door of the war room. Cassandra quickly followed, leaving the three remaining leaders of the Inquisition to contemplate their newest ally in silence.
"Well," Josephine, being the most talkative of the three, was the first to break that silence. "She certainly looks the part of Herald, doesn't she?"
Leliana smiled slyly. "Very much so. I'm sure we'll have no difficulties convincing the people of Thedas that we are a force to be trusted and relied upon with her at the helm. Even if she isn't a prophet, I'm sure the people will hold her as one – after we add some nice polishes to her story, of course."
Cullen sighed. He was not one for planning any kind of social weaponry. He preferred to stick to the concrete act of war. "That all remains to be seen. She's quite… intimidating, if nothing else," he grudgingly supplied. He'd be damned if he let them see how much the mage had really unnerved him.