This is a set of short sketches to accompany "The Curse of Amell". It can be read separately, of course.
A white-haired woman stands above a templar's corpse, and only the staff she is clutching in her hands keeps her from falling down. She touches the body with her boot and sighs in relief.
"Dead…"
She leans against the nearby wall, then slides down leaving a wide bloody trace on a wooden surface.
A blond man is sitting at the opposite wall. His robe is torn on his chest and covered in blood. He is trying to heal his wound, but it is not an easy task.
"It's not an end, is it?"
He touches an elf lying on the floor next to him, and she nods lightly letting him know she is alive.
"I don't care," whispers the white-haired woman. "They crossed the line. They dared to attack me on my territory. They died for it."
"Next time they may bring an army, you know…"
The man smiles with the corners of his lips.
"What a pity… I almost feel sorry for them…"
She presses her glowing hand to her chest trying to stop the blood.
"Do you think it's wise?"
The elf finally regains ability to talk. Her face is pale, but at least she is not bleeding.
"I don't care," the woman smiles, but her eyes are filled with pain. "I'm the bloody Hero, I slay Archdemons and end Blights. Who do they think they are to threaten me or my people?"
"Fools."
The man pokes one of the templars they have just killed with his staff and sighs. The war is inevitable. They have just made the first step towards it.
She knocks the door, but there is no answer. Then she decides to enter. It is a huge hall decorated with banners and wood carvings. There are even two flower pots standing next to a book shelf. Someone tried to make this place lively. There is a throne standing at the wall opposite to the entrance, and someone is sitting on it and reading a book. It is a man, black hair, comfortable leather clothing.
"Um… Hello?"
She hopes her voice is loud enough. The man closes the book and looks at her.
"Hello. How may I help you?"
"I'm looking for the Warden Commander. And you are… not her."
"Definitely not!"
He laughs. She likes his laughter because it is sincere.
"I'm Bethany. Bethany Hawke."
"And I am…"
"Nate! Nate, have you seen my dog?"
A white-haired woman rushes into the room. She is wearing a light armour, but there is no sign of any weapon.
"I think he hunts that cat again. You've got a visitor, by the way."
The woman turns to Bethany and smiles.
"How do you do, pretty thing?"
Bethany smiles back.
"I'm fine, thank you!"
"Were you going to tell me anything urgent? Because if it can wait, I would ask you to stay here till I catch my dog. Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot, he never gets enough of sleep…"
"Ser Pounce-a-lot? But… But isn't it a name of Anders's cat?"
"It is. You know Anders? Nate! This girl knows Anders!"
"I heard that!"
The man sighs.
"I'm Cassandra Amell. And you are?"
The woman shakes Bethany's hand.
"My name is Bethany Hawke. Stroud sent me. I've got his letter here…"
She tries to find the envelope in her bag, but the Commander stops her.
"No need for that, cousin…"
She grabs Bethany's hand and drags her to the exit.
"You know about me?"
"Not much. I tried to find my family when I left the Circle. I found some names, yours was among them. But we are wasting time. We have a cat to save. We'll have plenty of time to chat afterwards."
She turns to the man she called Nate.
"Are you coming?"
"Yes, Commander…"
She sits on a throne and cries clutching a piece of paper in her hand. She is wearing a nightgown, and her hair is messy. But she does not care.
"Good morning, Sunshine!"
An elf enters the hall, whistling and almost dancing. He is definitely in a better mood than she is. He squeezes himself into the seat next to her, forcing her to move onto his laps.
"What's wrong, my dear?"
He tries to wipe her tears, but it only makes her cry more. She shows him the letter she is holding.
"To the Warden Commander Cassandra Amell,
We are writing to inform you that Sister Leliana has accomplished her mission in Ferelden and now returns to her duty at the Grand Cathedral.
We apologise for any inconvenience caused by her transfer and hope that the money we send with this letter will cover any possible expenses.
From the desk of the Divine Justinia."
"Crap!" he exclaims. "Should I go to Orlais and drag her back to you? Assassinating some templars on my way? No?"
"A tempting offer," she tries to smile. "Thank you, Zev…"
"Seriously though, you've suspected it could happened, right?"
He hugs her and strokes her hair, and she relaxes a little in his arms.
"Yes. And that makes it harder. I had to confront her before she left, but I didn't. I… I wanted to believe her."
"Of course you did," he kisses her on forehead. "But you know what? Right now we should go to your room and find some clothes for you. We don't want anyone to see the Commander in such a condition."
He stands up, carrying her in his arms. She tries to protest, but he only holds her tighter.
"What would I do without you?" she whispers.
"I've got no idea," he smiles.
"If you were a woman I'd fall in love with you."
"Don't provoke me, my dear," he chuckles. "Next time I may come to you wearing a dress."
One day she will take a revenge on the Chantry for all her losses they caused. But now she tries to smile.