Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.

Chant of Light – Canticle of Trials 1:10

Whatever she had thought the Conclave could result in, it was not exactly this.

Not a massive explosion, not hundreds of people dead in a second, not hundreds more dead in the next days from the demons pouring in from tears in the sky.

Lyra couldn't say that even in her wildest fantasies, or nightmares in this case, she would have thought this could happen.

Yet, here she was.

She had the improbable luck of not having yet reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the Conclave was being held, when it exploded.

That had been the only reason she had survived.

Not that the last days of her life had been any indication that surviving had been the best outcome.

Demons were pouring out everywhere and with so much destruction, so much death and so much panic, things were in complete disarray.

As a mage of a certain power, she was an Enchanter in the Circle of Ostwick after all, Lyra had done what her conscience deemed to be the right thing and was helping the remaining soldiers fighting.

Whatever people thought of mages, no one scoffed at the value of a mage in battle. Especially soldiers.

And Fereldans in particular knew how mages had helped them in the last Blight, ten years ago, along with humans, dwarves and elves, led by the Grey Wardens, currently Queen and King of Ferelden.

So that was what Lyra had been doing. Using her affinity with ice magic to strategically slow down demons and frying them with lightning when needed, providing all the help she could to the remaining soldiers.

They had placed her helping the wounded first but she had argued that she would be of no help there and would rather stay involved in the fighting.

The handsome but rather grumpy light-haired Commander with the fancy armor had looked ready to send her packing when she had snarled that just because she was a mage, it did not mean she was any good with healing, in fact, she was rubbish at it. She pointed towards the scar on her face asking him if he thought that if she were any good at it, would she have a scar on her face? Wouldn't she have healed it?

Lyra hardly ever lost her temper but the madness of the last days had been getting to her.

When he had opened his mouth to talk, she raised her hands in peace, sighed deeply and calmly apologized for her tone but that she was simply trying to make his job easier by telling him exactly what her strong and weak points were. She would be more useful in the fight than helping the wounded when she had neither the knowledge nor the ability for it.

His fierce frown softened and he sighed, rubbing his forehead and looking tired. They all did, but she had seen him running around trying to keep some measure of order to the chaos, unfaltering and restless. She wondered how long he had spent without any sleep.

Apologizing for his attitude and recognizing the truth of her words, he let her join the fighting soldiers.

Hours later, she was still at it.

She had paused to rest and eat but even bone-weary as she was, she kept fighting. They all did.

She was fighting alongside the Commander and a few soldiers, near the place where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had stood.

There was a rift there and it had been pouring demons steadily, making it their job to eradicate the demons as quickly as possible.

At the request of the Commander, she had been studying the rift when she could. Demons appeared in pulses, apparently in coordination with the big breach in the sky.

But all that she had tried to somehow close it, or even understand the how and why it was open in the first place, proved unsuccessful.

This magic was powerful and completely unknown to her.

"Maybe a Templar…" She had muttered to herself, thinking out loud, leaning on her staff.

She looked up to see the Commander looking at her with a slight frown. That seemed to be his permanent expression, Lyra noted, although she could not quite blame him, given the situation. She didn't envy his position.

Before she could ask him if he had any Templar handy, one of the soldiers appeared calling out, "Commander Cullen!"

As he turned to the soldier, Lyra thought that the name was familiar somehow…wait, Cullen as in Knight-Captain Cullen, from Kirkwall? Could it be?

She had heard his name a few times in the past. Gossip traveled quickly in the Circle, and after Kirkwall…exploded, literally, and the whole mess with the Knight-Commander apparently going mad, she had heard that one Knight-Captain Cullen had been organizing what was left of the Templars in the city, making him the de facto Knight-Commander there, without actually having the title.

She couldn't help to look at him in a different light. This man had seen war already, albeit a bit differently. You couldn't argue with that type of experience.

Either way, that was not important now.

The runner had been telling him something about a prisoner and clearing a path. As the soldier left, the Commander eyed the still rift in the sky, it wouldn't remain that way for long, and resumed cleaning his sword's blade.

"You're the Knight-Captain Cullen from Kirkwall?" She asked him, moving to stand beside him.

He eyed her for a moment in silence before replying, "Not anymore. But yes."

Her eyes moved to the rift, watching how it rippled and twisted in itself, unlike anything she had ever seen.

"I thought you'd be older." She told him. It wasn't the type of thing she usually blurted to strangers, but she was tired and apparently that made her uncharacteristically chatty.

That, apparently, surprised a chuckle out of him. She looked over to him in amazement. After seeing a frown on his face for all the days they had been holed up here, seeing him smile was a bit of a shock.

He looked much younger. And even more handsome.

Maker's Breath, not what I need to be thinking at the moment.

"Not the comment I'm used to getting." He told her, a slight smile still on his face.

She was tongue-tied for a moment before getting back on track with what she wanted to get at. "Right, well, you're a Templar-"

"Not anymore" He interrupted her, repeating his previous words, eyes moving back to what he was doing.

She frowned a bit at this but didn't pursue the conversation. It wasn't the place and she doubted he was inclined to discuss his life choices with someone who was still a complete stranger to him. He didn't seem the type.

"Can you still use a Holy Smite?" She asked finally.

At his confused look, she motioned towards the rift with her head. "Templars have the power to dispel magic. This is magic. I don't know of what kind, but it's magic. Couldn't hurt to try."

Understanding bloomed on his face, "Oh. Good thinking. I can certainly try it."

Sliding his sword back to its scabbard. He approached the rift carefully.

Lyra stood straight, ready for anything that might happen.

A few seconds later, a bright light shone from the Commander, straight at the rift.

When the Commander had stepped nearer the rift, some of the other soldiers around them had gotten up from where they had been resting on the ground, wondering what he was up to. Now, they all stood uneasily, tensing in wait of any reaction from the rift.

Seconds ticked by and nothing.

So much for that.

The Commander shook his head and carefully walked back to where she was. "It was a good idea, but I'm afraid it didn't work. Maybe with more Templars…"

"Maybe." She muttered, not very hopeful.

With a deep sigh, Lyra wondered how long they would stay here, fighting demons appearing from a rift that could not be closed.

Things weren't looking good.

A few minutes later, a new wave of demons appeared and they were fighting again.

But at some point in their fight, a new group of fighters appeared.

A tall, green demon had gotten the drop on her, she had encased him in ice, to slow him down so she could stand up and get away, but the demon was too strong and she was too weak, her mana spent.

The demon managed to claw her on her ribs before getting a powerful shield bash in the face. Looking up, she saw a tall, short-haired woman, making quick work of the demons around her.

A Seeker, Lyra realized, taking in her armor. Looking around she could see a dwarf, an elven mage and a tall man with hair as blonde as hers.

What a strange group.

But they had probably just saved her and the soldiers that yet remained standing. They weren't that many anymore, she noticed sadly. So much bravery and strength for what? This was beyond them.

She tried to stand but the wound on her ribs hurt too much and the group seemed to be handling the demons well enough so she stayed where she was, wincing at the pain.

Suddenly, the blond tall man raised on of his hands towards the rift and light poured from it. Lyra looked on, fascinated and hopeful as the rift twisted and got smaller until it disappeared completely.

Yes! The rifts could be closed! But how had he managed? He was no mage.

Lyra's mouth opened in shock when the man turned towards Commander Cullen that was exchanging words with the Seeker, granting her a full view of his face.

Tobias!

How could it be?

He was older than she remembered and had a light stubble on his face, but it was beyond any doubt Tobias.

She tried to move. She managed to get on her knees with some difficulty but when she looked up again, the Commander was moving towards her and the group was already moving ahead, in the direction of what remained of the Temple.

Suddenly Tobias looked back and their eyes met. He stopped, recognition and surprise flickering in his expression. He looked like he wanted to talk to her but the Seeker called him and with a last look at her, he turned around and moved ahead.

Disappointment filled her but she was momentarily distracted by the hand that was being offered to her.

Looking up she could see the hand belonged to Commander Cullen that was looking at her with a slightly worried expression.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Grabbing his hand, she manage stand up on her feet with his support. "Thank you." She winced and rested one of her hands lightly against her bruised ribs, ignoring the blood, "Could be better."

She took a step and her legs failed her. Had not been for the Commander's quick reflexes, her knees would have had an unfortunate and painful meeting with the ground. "Maker" she grumbled.

"Let me help you" The Commander said, and put on her arms around his neck and another around her waist, supporting her weight in case her legs decided to betray her again.

"Thank you, Commander" She said quietly. She looked over her shoulder at Tobias' back.

"Do you know him?" She heard the man helping her up asking softly.

Turning her face to him, the fur on his mantle tickling her nose, she realized how close they were. Now that no demons were trying to kill them, her eyes betrayed her, taking in his handsome features more closely.

His eyes were rather lovely, light brown and soft. A light stubble across a defined jawline, a thin scar on his lips and golden hair, all contributed for an overall very handsome man.

That face isn't fair.

Flushing slightly at the closeness and at her thoughts, she looked forward again, both of them moving slowly towards the camp that was near.

"He's my brother."

"The prisoner is your brother?" That was surprising, Cullen thought. What were the odds?

"Prisoner?" The rather pretty woman leaning on him for support asked with a frown.

Cullen realized he didn't even knew her name.

He had fought beside her for days, even had a slight disagreement with her at the beginning, but gotten along pretty well all things considered, and he hadn't even asked for her name.

I'm an idiot.

Not that she had asked his either, but she had heard the men call him by his name so she knew it was Cullen.

She had been an amazing help in the field. He had no doubt about it.

Not only she was a mage of remarkable power, he had noticed how she manipulated the battle as much as she could. Standing back from the soldiers, she would freeze some enemies, slow down others, and fry some others. She did so in a strategic manner, keeping an eye on how the soldiers were doing and reading their movements, she knew what to do to help them make every move count.

Her ice manipulation was invaluable. Demons could be quick and ruthless. Slowing them down made them a lot more manageable.

His idea of a mixed military service with mages included only grew stronger when he saw the potential the blonde woman showed.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he answered her, "He is the only suspect of the Conclave explosion."

"What?" She looked horrified.

"I'm not sure Cassandra, the Seeker" he added at her confused look, "believes that anymore. We will see. He was the only one to survive the blast and the soldiers found him unconscious after he stepped out of a rift" He explained.

"That…makes no sense." She said, confusion painting her tone, looking at the ground with a frown.

"Nothing makes sense anymore." He sighed, "I just hope he can close the breach as well. He seemed to be able to close the rifts rather easily."

"Yes…" She said faintly.

"What's his name?" He asked, thinking back on how he didn't know her name either. Might as well try to find her name through her brother's.

"Tobias" She said, absent-mindedly, looking like she was thinking about something else.

"Any last name?" He pressed.

"Oh, Trevelyan. Tobias Trevelyan."

He almost stopped in surprise. "Trevelyan, as in the nobles?"

She sent him an inquiring look. "I suppose so. Trevelyan family from Ostwick."

"You're a noble?" He asked, probably sounding a little too astounded.

She chuckled and the little smile transformed her face, making her look softer and even more beautiful. Cullen had to force himself not to stare.

"I'm a mage, not a noble." She said, sounding amused.

"What is your name?" He asked pointedly.

"Lyra" she answered.

"And?" He pressed.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Lyra Trevelyan," At his exactly look, she added, "My point still stands. I'm a mage, not a noble."

He supposed she was right. Some mages from noble families had some advantages in the Circles but he supposed it depended on the Circle. And the family.

At least now he had her name, not to mention the prisoner's name as well.

They reached the makeshift camp and moved towards the healers' tent where she could get help for her wounds and rest.

They all needed to rest but at least soldiers were ready for this kind of rhythm of fighting for days without rest. She was a mage and no doubt from a Circle, making her even less used to this kind of brutality than apostate mages.

Another point in her favor since it also made her resilience in the last days that more admirable.

"I think I'm fine here." Lyra said, pointing to the nearest makeshift stretcher.

He helped her to sit down, a bit wary that her legs might lose strength again.

"Thank you, Commander." She said with a smile while he straightened up.

He bowed his head at her and said, "Thank you for your help in the Valley, Lady Trevelyan. You're not a soldier but you handled yourself extremely well."

Maybe it was a touch formal, taking into account they had fought demons together for days, but it was the only way he could thank her.

She inclined her head at him, a smile still on her lips, "We all live in this world. We must fight to protect it when there is need for it."

"Indeed" He told her with a smile, pleased with her way of thinking. He quite agreed.

"Until next time, my lady." He finally told her, taking in her features for the last time.

"Until then, Commander Cullen." She replied.

He did hope there would be a next time.

A/N: I was working on my slowly-still-going fic about Lyra and Cullen (that I haven't uploaded anywhere yet) and ended up making up a Templar brother for Lyra. After that I had a mighty need of an AU where Lyra's brother would become Inquisitor and she would be just an agent for the Inquisition, eventually. Thus, this little fic was born! :D I may play a bit more with this AU sometime.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)