The Story of Corporal Vale's Unrequited Love

by foxfire79

All Corporal Vale wanted was a little help sorting out the issues in the Hinterlands. Then The Herald of Andraste wandered into his camp and changed his life forever. Corporal Vale/Trevelyan and also Cullen/Trevelyan. This is the same Inquisitor I'm using in my longer story 'I Dreamed a Dream (of banana pancakes). Her name is Lilah and she is awesome :-)

The Story of Corporal Vale's Unrequited Love - A Dragon Age Inquistion Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Corporal Vale/Inquisitor/Cullen)

Disclaimer: I don't work for Bioware, nor have I ever been involved with the creation of any of the characters within the Dragon Age universe. I'm just playing with them (as we were meant to). The only original characters are the ones I created in-game, and have brought over to the fanfic universe: Ceridwen Cousland, my human female rogue Grey Warden from DA:O, Rhiannon Hawke, my female rogue from DAII, and most importantly Lilah Trevelyan, my human female rogue Inquisitor who is currently breaking heads and taking names while tearing around Thedas. Apparently I like being a rogue, human and female. Who knew?

So I'm going to have to give Corporal Vale a first name, because he doesn't seem to have one. Gareth works for me. Gareth it is!

And so it begins...

Corporal Gareth Vale stood atop the grassy ridge looking down at the men training below him. He shook his head. They were mostly volunteers, local men who had never had to wield a sword in their lives before, and he could tell. Their clumsy swordsmanship would most likely be the death of them, and he would bear the consequences of their blood on his hands. There was just so much he had to think about right now... The red templars, the apostate mages, the wellbeing of the refugees, it was all starting to add up and take a toll on the young corporal. He hadn't slept properly in days. He rubbed a hand over his slightly sweaty brow, and grimaced. That was when he noticed a small group of people walking up the path towards him. He could have sworn that the tall, short haired woman was Seeker Pentaghast, but what in the world could she possibly want with him? He wasn't an important member of the military, by any means. And the other people, well, he had no idea who any of them were. A tall, bald elf, bearing a staff, clearly a mage, but not in chains so he wasn't under arrest. A dwarf, carrying some kind of... crossbow... thing on his back. Then his breath caught in the back of his throat when he got a good look at the fourth person.

She was... beautiful. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, with a few loose strands left surrounding her face. A faint blush stained her cheeks, though from exercise or the warmth of the day he couldn't tell. Her pretty pink lips seemed to be bowed into a permanent smile, as she laughed at something the dwarf had said to her in passing. And her eyes... Maker. Now that she was close enough he could see that they were the deep green of the forest pools he'd grown up swimming in as a boy. The vision wrapped in a hunter's coat stopped directly in front of him, and held out a hand to shake in greeting.

"Corporal Vale, I presume?"

Her voice was refined and melodic, and suited her perfectly. He reached out and grasped her hand, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. This stranger was a proper lady, a noble lady, he could tell that from her tone. Why in Andraste's name was she talking to him?

"Uh, yes, that's me. Corporal Vale. Gareth, actually. And you are?"

Seeker Pentaghast stepped forward glowering, looking as though she was about to reprimand him for being so informal, but the unknown woman placed a hand on the Seeker's forearm in silent protest. She continued smiling, and brushed some of her looser hair back behind her ears.

"I am... a concerned citizen. I've heard that there are a few issues needing to be dealt with around here to make the region safer for the refugees. Apparently these issues tie in with the task I've been allotted, as I need to find Horsemaster Dennet and secure his lands so we can safely acquire mounts for the Inquisition."

Gareth realised he'd been staring at her the entire time she'd been speaking. He also realised that his mouth had been slightly agape, and closed it with an audible click. What was wrong with him? He didn't usually have trouble talking to women. She was looking at him, with her head inclined slightly to the left, and an inquiring look on her face. Oh, right. She wanted to know what the issues around the local area were. He cleared his throat and tried to remember, then blurted out the first word that came to mind.

"Templars! We've been having problems with some rogue templars. The rest of their regiment were called back to Val Royeaux, but these... insurgents still remain. We assumed they'd only attack the rebel mages, but they've been accosting everyone that dares travel down the main road. On top of that there's the apostate camp in Witchwood, which we're not well equipped enough to attack. A group of rather well supplied bandits are attacking from the other side of the township, basically hemming us in to this one tiny space. There are fade rifts all over the Hinterlands, spewing out demons and Maker knows what else. Oh, and the refugees are starving, cold, and could do with some decent healing. I think that about covers it."

The woman didn't even look phased by the list of utterly impossible things to deal with he'd just rattled off to her. She turned to consult the other three members of her group, then turned back around to him, smiling once again.

"I believe we'll start with the rogue templars. Then we'll figure out where to go from there. Thank you, Corporal Vale."

Dumbstruck, he told her to speak with Recruit Whittle about seeking out apostate caches for blankets and such which could be useful for the refugees, then went back to overseeing the men's training. A few minutes after the group had left, Mother Giselle wandered up to his post to speak to him.

"Gareth, I'm just informing you of my imminent departure. I have been convinced to go to Haven and assist the Inquisition from it's headquarters."

Gareth grimaced, but clasped the older woman's proffered hand warmly.

"We'll be sorry to see you go, Revered Mother. The people here will miss your kind words and support during their recovery. May I ask what changed your mind? I thought you said nothing but a meeting with this so-called 'Herald of Andraste' would convince you to leave."

Giselle blinked at him.

"I just met with her."

Gareth scratched his chin, and looked down over the Crossroads, scanning the crowd for someone important looking or... glowy. There was nobody fitting what he assumed the 'Herald of Andraste' would look like. He looked back to the Revered Mother, wondering if she'd finally started to crack under the pressure.

"Where is she then?"

Giselle crossed her arms, a small smile forming on her face.

"After I finished speaking with her, I told her to seek you out, to assist with the war effort. I assumed she came to see you, seeing as this was the direction she walked off in. Did you not speak to her?"

Gareth frowned. The only person he'd spoken with in the last half an hour had been the raven haired beauty in the hunter's coat. Surely she hadn't been... No... That would be completely...

"Black hair, green coat, very personable?"

Giselle nodded. Gareth's eyes widened, and he started pacing back on forth, wearing a small track in the dust beneath his feet.

"Maker's Breath! No wonder she didn't want to say who she was. But now I've sent her and her friends off to fight the rogue templars... They'll all be killed. Oh Maker, I've gone and gotten the Herald of Andraste killed! I need to go after them..."

He started picking up his weapons, and strapping his sword's scabbard around his waist, when Giselle laid a soothing hand on his arm.

"Calm yourself, my boy. The woman survived a fall from the Fade. I'm sure a few templars won't cause her any issue. Give her a couple of days before you send out a search party, I'm sure she'll return."

He stared off in the direction the four travelers had walked and sighed.

"Fine. I'll give them a day, but if they're not back by this time tomorrow I'm going to assume that something terrible happened and head out after them myself."

Giselle turned and walked back down the slight hill towards the township.

"Have a little faith, Gareth. Everything will be fine."

But Gareth wasn't convinced. He continued pacing for the rest of the afternoon, kicking up small flurries of dust to the point that he ended up having a sneezing fit. He snapped at the men continually, berating them about their bad techniques and shameful stances, until he finally dismissed them all for the evening and retired to his tent, refusing any dinner. The refugees needed the food, and his stomach was far too unsettled to enjoy any sustenance this night. He tossed and turned on his bedroll until morning, his body refusing to shut down and relax for the evening. He'd send the sodding Herald of Andraste to her grave, he was certain of it.

The next morning he emerged, bleary eyed, from his tent, only to be greeted by the excited grin of Recruit Whittle who was practically dancing outside his tent.

"What?!"

Whittle barely noticed the foul mood Gareth was nursing. He just grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him into town.

"Just come and look, it's a bloody miracle!"

The road into town was lined with refugees, all clapping and cheering as four rather weary individuals made their way back into town, each of them carrying at least two dead rams over their shoulders. They wound their way up to where the resident hunter had set up a cooking station, where they all in turn dumped their cargo onto the ground before him. Now that they had divested themselves of their burdens, Gareth could make out who they were a little clearer and his heart leapt. Seeker Pentaghast, the elf and the dwarf and... a hooded figure. He squinted, but still couldn't see who was under the hood. The hooded figure stretched, rolling her shoulders, then threw her hood back, smiling at the crowd.

"Anybody for ram cutlets?"

Gareth felt the corners of his mouth turning up into the largest smile he'd worn in a long time. As the crowds cheered and thanked the group of adventurers, he and Whittle remained at the back of the crowd. Whittle was cheering along with everyone else, but Gareth was just content to gaze at the beautiful woman who had provided food for the entire town. And who was very much alive still. He started heading back up to his perch, looking down at his trainees. They seemed to have improved overnight. Whittle had returned to his post by the cave entrance as well, and when next Gareth glanced over to see what the man was up to, he was surprised to see the Herald marking something on the younger man's map. Whittle seemed to be glowing with happiness at just being that close to the lovely woman. Gareth felt an unwarranted pang of jealousy at how close together they were standing, and was considering walking over to 'interrupt' their little conversation when the small group farewelled Whittle and started heading in his direction.

"Corporal Vale! So nice to see you."

The Herald's lovely voice sang out in greeting. Gareth could feel a blush rising up his neck, but thankfully his full helmet would hide the telltale redness from anyone looking. He cleared his throat and tried to remain professional.

"My Lady Herald."

Her face fell when she heard him utter the title.

"Oh. Somebody told you, then."

Cassandra gave her a look, then rolled her eyes.

"Trevelyan, the whole reason you have the title is for us to use it. It's meant to inspire people to our cause, not just to be an annoyance to you."

The Herald sighed and ran a hand over her brow.

"I know that, Cassandra, but I just feel that I'm going to forget my first name if no-one ever calls me by it again. It's all 'My Lady Herald' this, and 'Herald of Andraste' that. Maker's Breath, I'd prefer Trevelyan over this!"

Gareth didn't know where to look. The Herald was having an honest to The Maker argument with Seeker Pentaghast. Clearly she had a death wish. Nobody argued with Seeker Pentaghast. The Seeker sighed, cracking her neck from side-to-side, then threw a long-suffering glance at the shorter woman.

"Fine. When we're not in the public eye, we'll try to remember to be less formal. Is that acceptable, Lilah."

Lilah. Even her name was pretty, and it suited her as well. He could imagine saying it to her while holding her hand, as they looked out over Lake Calenhad with the sunset behind them. She'd smile at him, and blush, and he'd lean in and try to steal a kiss... He was stirred from his reverie by Lilah... No, the Herald, sighing.

"It'll do, I suppose. I have to accept any small victory that comes my way. But I think we've embarrassed poor Corporal Vale enough. I have news for you, Ser."

He straightened his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back.

"What is it, My Lady?"

Her easygoing smile had returned, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she looked up at him. He found himself staring again, but didn't really care to stop himself.

"Those rogue templars won't be a problem anymore. We've cleared out their camp, and ransacked all the valuables. No-one should even think of taking up residence there again. We also found a good number of supply caches the apostate mage's won't be using any more, seeing as we dealt with quite a few of them on way around the Hinterlands looking for the caches. I've marked them on Recruit Whittle's map so he can send someone out to retrieve them before the next cold snap hits. Oh, and we also killed a bunch of rams and brought the carcasses back for your hunter friend to clean and serve up. So that was our day yesterday. How was yours?"

Gareth looked at her, askance.

"Are you seriously asking me how my day was?"

The Herald smiled at him and, Maker help him, gave him a wink.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't interested, would I?"

Gareth's mouth dropped open, and he closed it fast, hopefully before she'd noticed. She'd winked at him. Andraste's Flaming Sword... He cleared his throat once more.

"Well, after I sent you off after the templars, Revered Mother Giselle came up to tell me she was leaving for Haven. She also told me who you actually were. Then I paced and worried for the rest of the day thinking that I'd sent the fabled 'Herald of Andraste' to her certain death. I couldn't sleep all night, thinking of all the horrible scenarios that could have befallen you, and your group, of course. Then I got up this morning and well, here we are. You're alive, and I feel very relieved that I haven't accidentally murdered the figurehead of the Inquisition."

It was the Herald's turn to look dumbfounded this time. She reached out, hestitantly, and placed her hand on his forearm. He could feel the warmth of her skin even through his layers of armour.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Gareth."

He startled when he heard his first name, then looked away, his cheeks growing warm again.

"Like I said before. I'm just relieved that you... and your friends, are all fine."

Seeker Pentaghast huffed out an annoyed breath and looked away. The dwarf nudged the elf in his side, but the elf seemed to be distracted by one of the old ruined buildings off in the distance. The dwarf sighed and stepped forward, tapping the Herald on her other arm.

"Look Lize, I'm all about sharing heartfelt moments and being incredibly happy we survived our run-in with those templars yesterday, but we came up here to talk to Corporal Vale for a reason, right? Not just for you two to stare all doe-eyed at each other?"

The Herald blew an exasperated puff of air out, and glanced down at the dwarf.

"Doe eyes, Varric? Really?"

The dwarf grinned, running a hand over his tied back hair.

"I say what I see, Lize. Just ask Soldier Boy whatever it was you were coming up here to ask him, and then we'll go about our day. I have things I need to do, you know."

The Herald sighed, and removed her hand from his arm. It immediately felt colder.

"Yesterday, you listed off a number of things which needed attention. What didn't we take care of already?"

Gareth tried to get his mind back on track. His thoughts were still full of trying to steal kisses from a lovely girl named Lilah while picnicking by a pretty lake. He could almost taste those beautiful pink lips of hers. He'd bet they tasted of strawberries... He shook his head and got back to the task at hand.

"There's the apostate mages hiding out in Witchwood, and the bandits hemming us in from the other side of town. Oh, and we still need a healer, if you come across one. I believe they have a couple in Redcliffe, but the town's swimming in mages at the moment so it's not like healers will be hard to come by there."

The Herald nodded, counting off the three things as he told her.

"Right. Mages, bandits and a Healer. Shouldn't be too difficult. See you in a few days, Corporal Vale. Please don't stay awake worrying about us again. I think we've proven we can look after ourselves by this point."

Gareth waved them off as they walked back down the soft incline and headed out through the cave tunnel towards the hideout of the apostate mages.

"Maker watch over you, Lady Herald."

Recruit Whittle all but ran up the hill after the group had gone, to show Gareth the supply cache locations. There were five in total, and she'd even inventoried what was kept in each. Healing supplies, grains, vegetables, blankets and clothing... The refugees would want for nothing. She'd also sold most of the things she'd ransacked from the templar camp to the merchant in town, and he was happily sharing out whatever he couldn't sell on. The woman was a miracle worker. Everyone was a lot happier knowing that they'd be going to sleep with full stomachs. His own stomach growled now, and he remembered that he'd neglected to eat anything the previous night, or this morning for that matter. Whittle clapped him on the back, still grinning.

"It looks like the Inquisition's doing some good out here after all, yeah?"

Gareth couldn't help but smile back. It wasn't just the Inquisition. It was HER. Lilah. The Lady Herald. She'd been the one to start all the wheels in motion. Everyone else was just following along. And she's spoken to him - twice! And she'd remembered his name. He almost floated down the hill to the infirmary where he knew there would be at least some bread for him to eat. Just a little something to take the edge off, before they all enjoyed their feast at dinner.

The next three days were torturous. Gareth kept receiving spotty reports from scouts returning from their various routes, saying that they'd come across a messy kill sight where someone had 'taken care' of some templars or mages, but no evidence of who had actually done the deed or indeed how they'd fared themselves. He knew at least some of these HAD to be the Herald and her group of friends, but he had no proof. Then, on the third day, a scout he didn't recognise came trudging up the hill towards him.

"Excuse me Ser, are you Corporal Vale?"

He nodded, still puzzled. She smiled, clearly relieved.

"Oh, good. I've a message for you Ser, from the Herald herself. She says the mages' are taken care of, and she'll be heading out after the bandits' presently. Does that make sense?"

Gareth felt himself letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and smiled. The scout smiled back.

"The Herald... She's quite different, isn't she. I mean, she's good 'n' all, but she seems to see the world differently that regular folks do. I like her though, she gave me a second chance, even though she didn't have to. I think I may owe her my life."

Gareth looked at the scout a little more carefully. Clearly the Herald had touched this woman's life just as she'd touched his.

"What's your name, scout?"

The scout started, then blushed, realising she'd forgotten her manners.

"Sorry Ser. It's Ritts. Scout Ritts. Though I suppose I'm not just a scout anymore, since the Herald recruited me. I sort of do... special jobs. For Lady Leliana. And the Herald, of course. I have to go now, Corporal Vale. Thank you for your time!"

She all but dashed down the hill, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on a large raven flying overhead.

"Thank you for the message, Scout Ritts!"

He called out after her, and got an over-the-shoulder wave in response. At least the Herald had thought to let him how her mission was going, even if it wasn't personally. It was odd how after only speaking to her twice he found himself missing her so badly. Perhaps he was suffering from a little hero worship. It didn't hurt that she was so beautiful, either. He managed to sleep better that night after he knew she was fine, and progressing with her quests.

It was another four days before he heard anything more. Just as the sun was setting, he could hear two angry voices yelling at each other as they approached the Crossroads. They were both female and both very loud.

"I don't understand why we need so many bear hides! What are you going to make with them all, tents? Coats? Some sort of fort? There are only so many things we can carry, and fifteen bear skins is completely unnecessary!"

"I didn't hear you complaining when we were sleeping under all of them last night!"

"That's not my point!"

"What was your point again, because I couldn't hear you over how warm the bear skins were?!"

"Maker, you're... impossible!"

"Thank you...?"

"That wasn't a compliment! And another thing, why did you make us chase after those three Great Bears? I could have told you that their pelts are useless, if you'd asked me first!"

"We needed the claws, Cassandra! The claws! Didn't you read that missive we found?!"

"Unlike you, I don't stop and read every single piece of paper I find blowing around in the wind!"

"Well, maybe you should start, because some of them are really useful! For example, the one about the Great Bear claws!"

He finally saw them, cresting the hill that led down into the Crossroads, and almost laughed. Their packs were so heavy they could barely carry them, and they were all smeared with dirt and what appeared to be dried blood from their journey. He jogged out to meet them, taking the Herald's pack from her and almost dropping it himself, staggering at the weight.

"I'm going to have to ask you to bring the noise level down, we're very close to the infirmary and I think you're upsetting the patients."

The Herald looked suitably apologetic, and Cassandra marched off in a huff, finding an empty tent to sleep in. The elf grasped her forearm and whispered something in her ear, and she placed her own hand over his, nodding slightly. Gareth kept his gaze glued to their hands, suddenly wondering if there was something between the Herald and the elf. They shared a small smile, and the elf wandered off to another empty tent, followed by the dwarf who was also weighed down with another huge pack. The Herald looked up at him, grimacing slightly.

"Sorry about all that. Cassandra thinks that I'm... overly thorough when I search around new areas. I collect every herb, explore every cave, sometimes I find useful things and other times... bears. Or spiders. Or darkspawn. But on the other hand, sometimes gold!"

Gareth found himself chuckling at her enthusiasm.

"That's exactly what I do, it comes from being a scout when I was a lad. 'Be thorough or don't bother' used to be my motto."

The Herald smiled up at him, eyes twinkling in the fading light.

"That's a good motto."

She sighed and looked down at her filthy hands, picking off some of the mud/blood combination which was coating her. Gareth grabbed her hand, without thinking, and started pulling her over to one of the large water barrels behind one of the houses. It granted them a little privacy at least.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up."

She looked up at him, amused, as he dipped a fresh, white handkerchief into the water barrel and handed it to her.

"If that's your handkerchief, I'm afraid it's going to be unusable after I'm through with it. I'm covered in bear blood and... swamp goo, for want of a better term."

Gareth just smiled in reply, pulling a bucket of water out of the barrel so she wouldn't contaminate the barrel by dipping the cloth back into it. He sat off to the side, allowing her some privacy to clean herself off. She peeled off her gloves, and yanked her hooded hunter's coat off, leaving herself standing in her undershirt and trousers. Maker's Breath... She didn't look like she was going to take anything else off, but that had been a shock to his system. She dipped the cloth back into the bucket several times, running it over her finely toned arms, across her stomach (which she lifted her shirt to reach, though he hadn't been looking, well, much) and over the back of her neck. She scrubbed her face several times, the water running down the neck of the pale grey undershirt until it was almost soaked through. Maker, he could see her... well... He had to deal with the sudden problem of his throbbing manhood as he'd looked at her profile, backed by the fire light, and had seen clear through her saturated shirt. He could clearly see the outline of her breasts, both with peaks raised by the chilly barrel water, and the plains of her flat stomach beneath them as she leaned forward, dunking her hair into the bucket to rinse it out. He tried to look away but his body refused him. She was a goddess, on hands and knees, bathing from a bucket.

His mind wandered again, to his dream of having a picnic at Lake Calenhad, but instead of just stealing kisses he'd had her laid out on the picnic blanket, unclothed, her deep green eyes begging him to touch her. Her own hands guiding his to touch her breasts, her stomach, and lower still. Her eyelids fluttering closed as his fingers drifted lazily over her...

"Ahem... See something you like?"

Gareth almost jumped out of his skin, as he turned and found the Herald's dwarven friend standing beside him.

"What! No! I wasn't... Ugh, was it that obvious?"

The dwarf grinned, leaning on the fence post beside him, turning him from his 'view'.

"It kinda was, Soldier Boy. Look, you've gotta understand, the Herald... Lilah? She's nice to everyone, and I mean everyone. She practically apologises to the bad guys we're fighting WHILE we're fighting with them. So when she comes across a nice young man who's also fighting for the same cause she is, of course she's gonna be nice to him. To you. The thing is, though... you seem to be reading a little too much into this. You've only ever seen her in this context though. I've seen her interacting with everybody, and believe me, she'd definitely interested in someone back at Haven. She'd spend all her time out there by the new recruits watching him train them all day if she could, but... sadly, she is the Herald of Andraste. Shit happens, and she's the one that's gotta clean it up. I just don't wanna see you get hurt, Soldier Boy, that's all."

Gareth gave the dwarf a hard stare. 'Didn't want to see him get hurt'? Did he think he was five years old or something?

"I'll just have to make myself worthy of her, then. I could probably knock that trainer on his arse if I had to."

The dwarf barked out a laugh, and clapped Gareth on the back.

"Well, I tried. Good luck to you, Corporal Vale. You're gonna need it."

Gareth heard footsteps approaching, and then a soft hand landed on his forearm.

"Thanks for that. I really appreciate the fact that I no longer smell of bears and swamp. I'll hopefully be able to get a good night's sleep now."

When he hadn't been looking she'd changed into a fresh black undershirt and a clean pair of trousers. Dear Maker, he'd missed her taking everything off when the dwarf had been talking to him. He'd probably done it on purpose. Then again, women liked to keep a little mystery wrapped around them, didn't they? If he'd seen everything tonight, he wouldn't have anything to look forward to, when he finally whisked her away from whatever ridiculous fool had caught her attention at Haven. He smiled at her, then took her right hand, laying a soft kiss on the back of it. Her cheeks turned the most marvellous shade of pink.

"It was the least I could do, My Lady Herald. Shall I escort you to your tent?"

The smile she gave him in return made a warmth spread through his chest. She definitely liked him.

"Please call me Lilah. At least, when we're alone, anyway. Maybe not in front of Cassandra. I don't want her to get mad again."

He pulled her gently to the tent she'd be sharing with Seeker Pentaghast and turned to face her. Maker's Breath... Her hair was starting to dry, and it curled around her shoulders in soft ringlets. Her eyes were full of starlight and her skin, it was so pale it looked translucent. She truly was magnificent. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he didn't want to scare her off either. Instead he knelt on one knee and kissed her, once again, on the back of her right hand.

"Pleasant dreams, Lilah."

He stood up, flashing her a slightly crooked smile, then took himself off to his own tent to sleep. He knew HIS dreams would be pleasant. He looked back just before he entered his tent and saw her gazing after him, a slightly confused look gracing her features, before a hand reached out from the tent and pulled her inside, followed by a hissing whisper, loud enough for him to discern even from that distance.

"Did he just call you 'Lilah'? Maker's Breath!"

Gareth fell into slumber fairly easily that night, knowing that the woman he was interested in was indeed safe for the evening. When he awoke the next morning he was going to suggest having breakfast together, but when he got to the group's tents he found them empty and all of their belongings packed and gone. What time had they awoken at? Whittle approached him, yawning, his hand over his mouth.

"Message for you, from the Herald. 'We're heading off to Redcliffe, will hopefully find a healer for you, back in a few days'. That's all."

Great. So they'd left him again, SHE'D left him again. Once she found him a healer, that would be the conclusion of their business. She'd probably never come back to the Crossroads again. He'd have to think up some reason to go to Haven himself, just to see her, steal some of her time, and eventually get her to see that he was the only man for her. He'd have to find out if there were any openings for troops coming up soon. He'd contact Commander Cullen and find out. The Commander was a good leader, and seemed to genuinely listen when soldiers made requests. He'd just put in a request for a transfer to Haven and hope the Commander didn't ask too many questions. Gareth didn't think 'I'm putting in for a transfer so I can bed the Herald' was the kind of request the Commander would receive well.

Four days passed once again, with no word from Lilah and her group. It was only a day's march to Redcliffe, so they should have returned within two days. He started to worry again. On the fifth day he took his post on the hill, watching with pride as the recruits he'd been overseeing went through their maneuvers almost perfectly. A vaguely familiar scout was wandering up the incline, obviously with a message for him.

"Scout Ritts?"

The scout smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"That's me. A message for you from the Herald, Corporal Vale: Redcliffe is locked down, they won't let us in. The Inquisition has been requested to travel to Val Royeaux and meet with some clerics there to try and come to an agreement as to how to deal with the Breach. On our return we will try and enter Redcliffe again, hopefully with better results. See you in a couple of weeks."

Gareth's heart fell. A couple of weeks? She was travelling to Val Royeaux? That was going to feel like forever. Then again, he'd only known her for just over a week, but still... He wanted to know that she was safe, and that she was thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her. The one good thing about her being in Val Royeaux was that she wasn't at Haven, swooning over the fellow who trained the new recruits, whoever that was. Thank the Maker for small favours.

"Ah... Thank you, Scout Ritts."

She nodded again, and walked slowly down the incline.

"No problem, Corporal Vale. See you around."

The next two weeks flew by in a blur, as he impatiently waited for word, either by raven or by Ritts. His patience was rewarded when he saw a group of four approaching from afar. Seeker Pentaghast didn't seem to be with them, though, and neither was the dwarf. There was a large man, built like a tank, with a great-sword attached to his back. His armour bore the griffon symbol of the Grey Warden's upon it. And instead of the dwarf with the crossbow, there was a female elf with a... normal bow. And possibly the worst haircut he'd ever seen. So the Herald did change her group around every so often. The elven mage was still present though. The group approached his usual spot on the hill and he walked down to meet them, smiling.

"Your troops have improved greatly from the last time we were here, Corporal Vale. You must be proud."

All he wanted to do was pick her up, spin her around and kiss her senseless, yet here she was, starting a conversation with him. About his troops of all things.

"Yes, they're coming along in leaps and bounds, enough to rival any proper regiment now, I'd wager."

She smiled at him, and he felt his heart melting. Then it stopped entirely when he heard her next words.

"This is only a quick stop for us today. Grand Enchanter Fiona approached us in Val Royeaux and requested that we come and meet with the rebel mages in Redcliffe."

The rebel mages? Didn't she realise how dangerous it would be to approach them? Especially when they were there in such strength and numbers?

"Is that wise? I mean, isn't there anyone else you could approach to ask for help? What happened in Val Royeaux?"

The Herald rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Val Royeaux was a waste of time. The templars have left the Chantry, completely, and have pretty much disappeared from the face of Thedas. The mages are the only choice we really have left."

Gareth knew he had to let her go. To try anything else would just be pointless. He sighed and looked away.

"Well, I know there's no talking you out of it. Just be careful, please?"

The Herald looked at him, quizzically, her brows wrinkling.

"You agreed a lot more quickly than Cullen did. He's still convinced that the templars could help, but then he wasn't in Val Royeaux. He didn't see how Lord Seeker Lucius was acting. Well, we'll be off. See you in a couple of days again!"

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm, without thinking. The Herald turned her deep green gaze upon him, and his knees almost buckled.

"When you come back... Can I speak with you? It's important, and I'd prefer if we could go somewhere alone, if that's alright?"

She looked a little surprised, if anything.

"I, uh... certainly, Corporal Vale. I'll try and make some time."

He released his grip, and she returned to her group, looking back at him once as they walked away in the direction of Redcliffe Village. It was the last he'd see of her for the next three months. Apparently the negotiations with the mages went well because the next few days all he saw were mages trudging through the Crossroads on their way to Haven. The Herald and her companions though... there was absolutely no sign. They must have hurried back to Haven to make preparations for closing the Breach. The Breach would take precedence over an important talk, he could understand that, but sneaking through the Crossroads without even saying goodbye? That was a little harsh.

Then it happened. IT happened. The night the Breach was closed, then all of the Void broke loose. He received so many conflicting reports, the Herald was missing, the Herald was injured, the Herald had died... He didn't know what to believe. A week later a raven arrived bearing a message of only two words which made his heart soar again: 'SHE LIVES'. Two weeks later he heard news of the new headquarters being set up, high in the mountains somewhere, a place called Skyhold. He wished, now more than ever, that he'd put in that request to be transferred earlier.

Another week went past, and with that came a singular new arrival to the Crossroads. A blonde, elven woman, laden with salves, potions and poultices, enough to cure an entire battalion.

"The Herald sent me, Ser. She said you were in need of a healer."

At least she was still thinking of him. Now the Crossroads refugees had everything they could possibly need. But he, Corporal Gareth Vale, still hadn't seen the object of his affections for weeks. The next surprising news came to him via his new favourite scout, Ritts. The young woman approached as always, sauntering up the small hill where he surveyed his troops.

"Corporal Vale."

"Scout Ritts. A message from the Herald?"

Ritts grinned, shaking her head.

"No sir. News ABOUT the Herald. She's now The Inquisitor. Cullen, Leliana and Josephine have convinced everyone that she's the best choice to lead the Inquisition. The vote was unanimous. The Hera... sorry, The Inquisitor, is the most important and possibly most famous person in all of Thedas right now."

Maker's Breath! He'd never see her again at this rate!

"Thank you, Ritts."

She threw him a sympathetic look.

"For what it's worth, Corporal Vale, I'm sorry things between the two of you kind of broke down. Now she's the Inquisitor you'll probably see even less of her."

Gareth looked at Ritts, a slow smile forming across his face.

"Then I'll just have to make myself more important, won't I?"

He'd been toying with the idea for a while, forming his own mercenary group and taking on some of the fights that regular Inquisition troops couldn't manage. His recruits were loyal to a fault, and followed his every order to the letter. They would do marvellously. All he needed was an official sanction...

"Ritts, can you take a message to the He... The Inquisitor for me? Ask her to come down here, so I can thank her for all the help she's given us?"

Ritts nodded.

"Sure thing. It might take me a couple of days to deliver it, Skyhold isn't really... near anything. Was that all?"

Gareth nodded in return.

"Yes, thank you."

The girl trotted away, giving her usual over-the-shoulder wave as she left, leaving Gareth standing alone on the small outcrop.

He hadn't received an answer after three weeks, and was thinking of giving up the whole idea when a small group of people emerged from the cave tunnel, and began walking towards his area. The group was led by an altogether familiar figure, but everyone else was different. There was a hulking great Qunari with a massive axe in a scabbard on his back, a rather flamboyantly dressed mage with AMAZING hair, and... he was sure there had been a fourth member to the group, where had he gone? His eyes were only focused on Lilah, though. She was no longer wearing the old hunter's coat he was so used to seeing her in, instead wearing a shining breastplate bearing the Inquisition's symbol upon it. Her hair, though still tied back in a ponytail, looked a lot shorter than it had been previously. The rakish mage whispered something to her, making her laugh out loud while grabbing onto his arm in the process. Gareth suddenly found himself hating the mage on sight. He met them at the base of the hill, and was surprised when the Her... Inquisitor reached out and pulled him to her in a hug. He didn't complain though.

"Corporal Vale, Gareth! How have you been? I haven't been here in so long, it looks amazing! Did the healer arrive? I sent her as quickly as I could, she needed me to fetch some healing herbs for her before she could leave and it took me a while to collect them all..."

Gareth pulled back from the hug, blushing slightly, his mind wandering immediately back to his picnic fantasy, except this time he was pushing her up against a tree, taking her while they stood together surrounded by the soft sounds of the birds and the nearby waterfall, her lips by his ear, telling him exactly how to please her... Wait, what was she talking about? Ah, the healer. Right.

"Yes, she arrived about a month ago, settled right in, no complaints. You've literally solved all of my problems. I can't thank you enough. I did have one request though...?"

The Inquisitor rolled her eyes, and smiled.

"Everyone has requests for me, now that I'm the Inquisitor. I've been doing things for Josephine, Leliana, even Cullen..."

She seemed to drift off after mentioning the Commander's name, a slight smile crossing her lips. She must have been remembering something from the job that had been funny, there was no other feasible explanation. Cullen was too professional, too caught up in the organisational parts of the Inquisition to make time for any romantic interludes. Still, now that would be a nagging thought in the back of his mind. He decided to go ahead and make his request, before asking his more personal questions.

"I was wondering what the Inquisition wanted to do with all of the refugees, now that they're all healthy and able to work. I think the best idea would be to recruit the willing and let them assist with the war effort."

The Inquisitor smiled, gesturing towards his troops.

"I assume you mean your recruits, Corporal Vale?"

Gareth smiled, and ducked his head shyly.

"If it helps, I have already asked them and they're perfectly happy to become a mercenary company under my command."

She crossed her arms and looked out over the men, who were now looking up at her, expectantly.

"I don't have a problem with it. I'd assume you'd be reporting directly to Cullen now, instead of going through the chain of command like everyone else will still have to. That means I might see you around Skyhold."

Gareth couldn't help but grin.

"That's the plan. I mean, not to see you around Skyhold, that's not why I'm doing this. I just want to help the Inquisition to the best of my abilities, and I think this is the way to go."

The Inquisitor smiled back at him, grasping his hands in hers. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, and imagined their hands twining together while they made love in the cool waters of Lake Calenhad. He could feel his heart beating in his ears as he looked out over his men, his crew.

"Vale's Irregulars!"

"Vale's Irregulars!"

They echoed back at him. The Inquisitor glanced over at him, her eyes shining with pride. Pride for him. Surely she must feel something more for him then just friendship? He gave her fingers a squeeze, and was reassured when she squeezed his back. There had to be something there...

"Inquisitor... Lilah. I still need to speak to you. I know that it must be hard for you to get free time nowadays, but please... It's terribly important."

She looked up at him, her eyes still sparkling, and he was once again reminded of the dappled sunlight falling across the water. He could drown in those eyes.

"Come and find me at Skyhold. I know somewhere we can go and not be disturbed."

He raised an eyebrow, his smile falling away slightly.

"Why not now?"

Lilah sighed, and slowly pulled her hand away from his.

"Because I'm heading directly to Emprise du Lion to follow up on one of our red lyrium leads. If we shut down the red lyrium smugglers, Corypheus will be left without one of his major chess pieces. His general, Samson... Cullen used to know him. If we remove him from the board, along with the red lyrium the red templars are using..."

Gareth sighed and rubbed his brow, wearily.

"Then that will be a major blow against his armies. I know, that's the most important thing now. Go on, go do your heroic thing. I'll see you at Skyhold. I can wait."

Her smile grew a little sadder, as she moved back towards her new improved group. She mouthed a silent 'Sorry' just before she turned around and they started to trek away. It was only after they'd disappeared completely from view that he realised he hadn't asked how long she'd be gone. He had to get the Irregulars to Skyhold to meet Commander Cullen anway, now that they had their official sanction, from the Inquisitor herself. He told the men to start packing their things and to prepare for a few days hiking.

Skyhold was certainly a sight to behold. A majestic castle built in the middle of nowhere. Gareth realised he didn't know where to go on arrival. He asked the men to remain in the courtyard, which is where it looked like everyone waited, and headed up the stairs to the Main hall. He entered and was taken aback by the majestic trappings of the large room. He heard a loud exclamation and turned to his right, finally seeing someone he recognised, sort-of.

"Maker's Breath! Corporal Vale, is that you? Welcome to our humble abode!"

It was the dwarf, Varric-Something. Gareth took the dwarf's offered hand and shook it in greeting, while still gazing around the room. The decor was surprisingly... Orlesian, with gold statues of lions placed periodically through the hall, and lion motifs etched into the stained glass windows. The throne, however, was a dragon's head, turned into a seat. It was majestic as all get out.

"This place is amazing, Varric. How long has it taken to get it looking like this?"

There were still a few bits of wooden scaffold lining the walls, but the rest... truly amazing. Varric smiled as he also surveyed the room.

"Two months so far, and we've still got a long way to go. Thankfully though, Lize is happy enough to fix things up between her many quests. So, what brings you here?"

Gareth had to think for a moment.

"I'm here to see Commander Cullen, actually. I've finally acquired my own band of mercenaries and we're branching out on our own. We're called..."

Varric held up a hand to interrupt him.

"Let me guess, Soldier Boy. You've probably named them something like 'The Magnificent Twenty-Seven' or 'Vale's Irregulars', am I right?"

Gareth looked at the dwarf in shock. How did he...?

"How did you...? Doesn't matter, look, is Cullen around? I've brought the men to meet him, and see if he has anything in mind for us to do."

Varric scratched his head and looked away, sheepishly.

"Listen, Vale, you've shown up at a really bad time. Cullen and Lize are both on a mission right now, they've tracked down that General they were looking for. They should be back in the next few days, if you want to wait around?"

Gareth nodded. The men deserved a break after four days walking through the mountains to get here.

"We'll wait. Thank you, Varric."

He walked back outside and told the men to put up their tents in the lower courtyard, near the stables, where he'd be sure to see both Lilah and Cullen when they arrived back from their mission. That nagging feeling was back in the far recesses of his mind. Surely Commander Cullen and the Inquisitor wouldn't... They were both far too important to the Inquisition to risk a relationship together. He dismissed the thought entirely and went back to training his men.

Four days later, Gareth awoke, bleary eyed, to the sound of cheers echoing through the courtyard. He emerged from his tent to find a host of people starting to gather by the front gates. That could only mean one thing. He saw a rather ragged group of five people approaching the gate on horseback. Lilah and Cullen were riding side by side, looking completely exhausted, followed by Seeker Pentaghast, the bow wielding elven woman, and yet another mage. This one was a woman, and bore a striking resemblance to First Enchanter Vivienne of the Orlesian Court. Had she joined the Inquisition as well? Maker, who else was going to appear, The Hero of Ferelden? The Champion of Kirkwall?

Lilah noticed him while still on horseback and gave Cullen a nudge. He looked at her, surprised by the sudden touch, then looked over and saw Gareth as well. They both slipped from their horses and came over to greet him.

"Corporal Vale, it's good to see you. Trevelyan tells me you've branched out and formed your own mercenary group. I'm pleased to say you'll be reporting to me directly, and I'll be giving you orders via raven so you don't have to come in here too often. I know how far away we are from everywhere."

Cullen finished his sentence with a light chuckle. Lilah sneaked a quick look at his face, then glanced away, her cheeks turning pink. The twinge in Gareth's mind played up again. Were they...?

"Yes, Ser Cullen. I'm looking forward to working with you more closely. I don't mind the trip out here, but I may leave the men out in the field rather than bringing them every time. I brought them to meet you, actually. Thought they could do with a little inspiring."

Cullen seemed lost for words for a moment, then Lilah stepped forward, placing a hand on his chestplate.

"If there's one thing our Commander is good at, it's being inspiring."

Cullen looked down at her, his ears turning red.

"Is that the only thing I'm good at around here?"

Lilah's cheeks almost matched Cullen's ears on the redness scale. Gareth felt his heart dropping into his feet. Maker, there WAS something going on between the two of them. He had to leave before he did something he'd regret.

"Well, it's not the only thing you do well around here. I can think of at least two others..."

They were facing each other now, gazing into each other's eyes, lost in their own little world. Both of her hands were resting against his chestplate, and his hands had somehow ended up sitting on her waist.

"Name one..."

They were both smiling at each other now. Gareth had never seen the Commander look so happy, or relaxed. He knew the man deserved Lilah more than he did. The only thing he could do was leave, but he just couldn't make his feet move. He couldn't look away. She looked happy too, more radiant then he'd ever seen her. That could only mean one thing: she'd never been in love with him. She'd only ever thought of him as a friend. He could feel his heart breaking, even as he only just realised the truth of the matter. The Commander and Lilah were in love. She looked up at him and sighed.

"Name one, name one... Oh. Your hair always looks amazing. Leliana and Josephine agree."

He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

"My hair looks amazing. That's the best you can do."

Lilah nodded her head in the direction of the gathering crowd.

"It's the best I can do in front of this audience, Cullen. Now, I really need to go and have a bath. And a sleep. Can I come and see you later?"

Cullen drew closer to her, and whispered something in her ear, something that Gareth couldn't quite hear. Lilah's face turned bright red, and she removed her hands from his chestplate hurriedly. She turned to face Gareth, and he was momentarily taken aback by the flustered look on her face, a mixture of anticipation and embarrassment. But it wasn't for him, no, never for him. She only had eyes for the Commander. He recognised this now. It must have been the Commander that Varric had been telling him about all those months ago. He hadn't had a chance at upstaging him, and Varric had known it.

"You said you wanted to speak with me privately, Corporal Vale. I have some time now, if you still want to?"

Gareth couldn't actually feel his face. He hoped he looked neutral, and not like he was about to start bawling, or hitting things. He must have looked fine, because Lilah's expression didn't change. She just kept looking at him with her slightly questioning, polite gaze. It was killing him inside.

"I... No. No, it's... not necessary. Not anymore. You should just... get on to your bath, My Lady. And have a good rest. I'll see you the next time I visit, I'm sure."

She blinked, and continued looking up at him, then breathed in quickly, sharply. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her gaze grew even darker. In that instant he knew that SHE knew, she KNEW how he felt. He could see the beginnings of tears appearing in the corners of her eyes, so he drew her away from the Commander and turned her to face the wall behind him so no-one could see her face.

"Oh Maker, Gareth... I'm so sorry... I've led you on, I didn't mean to. I'm like that with everybody, they all know it's in my nature to flirt and make jokes... I'm... just awful. I'll understand if you can never forgive me."

Gareth gulped, and reached up to her hair, running his hand over it. It was as soft and smooth as he'd always imagined. He dared to be even bolder and stroked one hand down the side of her face, drawing her chin up. They were mostly hidden behind the building, and no-one would be able to see them if he tried anything further. This would be his only chance. Maker help him.

"Just let me have this one memory, if you will, My Lady. Just this once, and I'll never try anything again. I'll never seek you out again. Just, please..."

She closed her eyes, and leaned into his palm, silently giving her permission. He leaned in closer, moistening his lips slightly with his tongue, and pressed them against hers. She didn't kiss him back, he hadn't expected her to, but she allowed him to explore the contours of her lips with his own. When he deepened the kiss, she also allowed it, opening her mouth to allow his tongue entrance but still not kissing him back. He almost pulled away, until he heard her give a light sigh, as if she was finally giving in, and her lips and tongue suddenly came alive beneath his. His hand tightened on the back of her head, drawing her even closer to him. He could feel her hands sliding up beneath his armour to touch the sensitive skin on his sides, and he had to fight back a giggle. He'd always been ticklish. His own hands ran down her back, cupping her luscious rear end as he plundered her mouth. She sighed once more, and pulled away from him, moving an arms length away. Her lips held the telltale puffiness of a romantic tryst, and her eyes were still a little moist, and unfocused. He'd made her look like that. If the Commander saw her now... He'd be sending Gareth on a one way trip into the Void. He smiled at her sadly, and backed away a little further.

"Forgive me, My Lady. I've always been a weak man."

Her own weak smile echoed his.

"Only if you forgive me for being a blind idiot and leading you on."

They both chuckled, and looked away from each other.

"We can never speak of this, can we?"

She shook her head, wiping her eyes.

"No, I'm afraid not. It never happened."

He sighed and looked away.

"As you say, My Lady. It never happened."

He reached out a hand towards her, hesitated, then pulled it back.

"Goodbye, Lilah."

She smiled shakily back at him, hugging her arms around her middle.

"Goodbye, Gareth. Maker go with you."

He nodded, backing away slowly.

"And with you, My Lady. Always."

And with that he walked away. He was in a daze, obviously. He'd finally kissed her, but it had been a kiss goodbye. He hadn't been able to act on the plan he'd figured out in his head. There was to be a festival in Redcliffe in a fortnight. The town was celebrating it's emancipation from the tyrannical magister who had taken over the town, and the mass exodus of the rebel mages. There would be dancing, music, all manner of entertainment. He had been hoping to ask Lilah to attend with him, as his partner. He'd even had the foresight to book a room at The Gull and Lantern for if he'd played his cards right and she'd agreed to come to bed with him. Now he had a room booked, and no-one to share it with. He walked around the corner of the building all too quickly, and smacked into something soft, that exclaimed loudly before landing in his lap.

"Maker's Breath! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was... going..."

"It was my fault entirely, I was a bit... distracted..."

All he could see was dark red hair and a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, in a rather shocked but pretty face. The woman, who was currently sprawled across his lap, was turning a brilliant shade of red. He suddenly realised his arms were clamping her to him, and he released her, allowing her to get up off him. At least he'd shielded her from landing in the dirt. Though she had been carrying a tray of food, which was now up-ended on the ground, the china smashed to pieces.

"Oh, Lady Montilyet is not going to be pleased if I bring her breakfast late."

The woman started hurrying back in the direction she'd come from, and Gareth hurried after her.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She looked back at him in surprise. She hadn't expected him to follow her, obviously, though he did feel responsible for knocking her over. And her eyes were rather intriguing.

"No, I don't think so. But maybe if you came with me to explain why I'm late, she won't be so cranky at me. Not that she's ever really cranky, but I know she won't be happy if I'm late. Oh, there I go, rambling again. I'm Flissa, by the way."

Flissa. It was a pretty name, and it seemed to suit her. She'd finally smiled when she'd introduced herself, and her entire face seemed to light up from within.

"Gareth. Is my name. Corporal Gareth Vale, leader of Vale's Irregulars mercenary company."

She looked back at him in awe as she continued hurrying back to the kitchen.

"Ooh, that sounds rather important. And a bit dangerous. I hope you're looking after yourself out there. You probably have people that are worried about you. Like a wife, or a girlfriend?"

Gareth grimaced, thinking back on the last fifteen minutes of his life.

"No actually. I just got turned down fairly hard by the woman I love. Loved. Past tense."

Flissa made a small frown of sympathy and reached back to give him a reassuring pat on the arm.

"There, there. It's not like you were trying to woo the Inquisitor or anything..."

The look on Gareth's face was enough to stop her in her tracks.

"Oh Maker, it WAS the Inquisitor. I... don't know what to say..."

He waved her away, a small sad smile gracing his lips.

"It's in the past. I never truly had a chance with her. I think it was just an infatuation. It definitely felt real to me, though."

She pursed her lips, and he felt his eyes being drawn to them. They were fuller than Lilah's, and a darker shade of pink. They suited her rounder face perfectly. She glanced at him, then nodded to herself.

"Right. After I go and explain myself to Lady Montilyet, I'm going to buy you lunch at the tavern. It's the least I can do to help make you feel a bit better."

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I should be buying YOU lunch, for knocking you on your arse... Ah, forgive my language, My Lady."

Flissa giggled, covering her mouth.

"Why don't I get today's, and you get the next time."

He felt his lips starting to turn up at the edges. Her giggle seemed to be contagious.

"There's going to be a next time?"

She sighed and smiled, looking away.

"If today goes well, who knows?"

Gareth found himself starting to grin. Perhaps he'd be making use of his room at The Gull and Lantern after all.

THE END

Well, that's twenty-two and a half hours of my life I'm not getting back. That's how long it took me to write this. Did I sleep? No. Am I still on holidays? Hell to the Yes. We spend so much time interacting with Corporal Vale in the Hinterlands, I felt he deserved a story of his own. And Flissa deserves a happy ending too. That's why I wrote this. Also, Cullen and the Inquisitor, w00t w00t! As always, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire Out!