Brielle feels utterly lost, everyone she knew is now gone. Her brothers were lost in the Blight years earlier, her parents taken by plague when she was just a child and now the only family she had left, the Templars she marched with to the Conclave, were all killed. Three days after falling from the rift she finds herself detained and trudging along behind Seeker Pentaghast, her companion Solas and fellow prisoner Varric. It's hard to read the Seeker, at first she seems wary of Brielle, but her complicity and helpfulness during the small skirmishes they began encountering along the way buys her a bit of trust and the woman quickly warms to her; and she is grateful for it. It's hard for Brielle to keep from crying when they explain to her what happened at the Conclave and even harder to be assumed a threat and held at arm's length when what she needs most is comforting. It's all too much, too fast, as if her world is crumbling beneath her and she
is falling into the abyss with nothing to cling to and nobody on her side. Meanwhile, the threat of a trial looms over her as they crunch through the snow on their way to meet up with the soldiers, each step bringing her closer to who knows what. They would let her go, they have to... don't they? They aren't beyond reason, she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, or perhaps in hindsight, the right place.
Upon reaching a group of soldiers she begins searching for any familiar faces in the crowd, hoping that someone else had survived and that she isn't completely alone in this turbulent world. Her heart sinks when she doesn't recognize any of the men as her comrades and turns back to the small group she's traveling with. She feels comforted by the presence of the quick witted dwarf and thoughtful elf, each seeming to emit a kind of warmth that feels like a balm to her aching heart and helps her to keep it together for the time being. They decide amongst themselves to travel to Haven with the soldiers once the rifts have been closed and she sighs, preparing herself for the worst upon their arrival but still hoping for the best. Though, she isn't really sure what the best outcome of this situation could be; even if they release her, she has no home to return to other than an empty estate she'd inherited. Hopelessness begins to settle into her like
a cold stone in her gut, making each step feel like one closer to her own demise.
While they walk to meet up with the army her new companions explain to her the situation at hand and why she is needed in Haven, and though she's glad to understand more of what is happening, learning the current state of affairs doesn't exactly relieve her anxiety. Thedas had plunged into turmoil, warring factions on each side with the Inquisition in the middle of it all, and now she was to be a part of it. As they join the army Brielle starts searching the faces in the crowd once again, looking for anyone she recognized or bearing the Templar insignia. Then someone catches her eye and she nearly stops in her tracks. His back is to her but there's something oddly familiar about the way he carries himself, and his thick blonde curls. Can it be him? No… it can't be…
Her thoughts are interrupted when Cassandra calls out next to her, "Commander!" She leads the group through the throng of soldiers to reach the man Brielle was examining from afar. "We will be marching with your men back to Haven."
He turns at hearing Cassandra's voice and his eyes immediately lock on Brielle's. They eye each other incredulously for a moment, as if unsure the other was real, but his eyes soon soften in recognition and she is sure it's him after all. "Commander, this is…" Cassandra begins before being cut off by a thoroughly relieved Brielle rushing into the Commander's arms.
"Cullen!" She exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself tight to him. He receives her warmly, lifting her from the ground slightly and hugging her close. He sets her down gently and looks down at her with a soft smile, mussing her hair with a gloved hand. "Brie, Maker's breath." He says softly, cupping her cheek, "It's been so long I wasn't sure it was you, all grown up."
She smiles back at him, tears she struggles to hold back stinging at her eyes at the relief of finding an old friend. "Thank the Maker you're here." She manages to get out through the giant lump in her throat, then gives him a shove at the shoulder, "I worried, you know. When the Circle fell and your letters stopped coming." She gives him the most annoyed look she can muster in her happiness at finding him again before giving into a quiet giggle of joy.
She doesn't notice the confused look on her companions' faces until Cassandra interrupts them tentatively, "I don't mean to cut short this reunion," her voice pulls them back to the moment and they each take a step back from one another, "but we really must get back to Haven."
Cullen nods at that and squeezes Brielle's shoulder, "I'll catch up with you when we get there." He says as he turns to walk away, leaving her with a familiar smirk and shake of his head.
The relief of not being totally alone washes over her in calming waves as they join the soldiers and start the long march back to Haven, her mind straying to memories of her friend that she hadn't seen in so many years, already missing the familiar feel of his arms around her.
"That was quite an interesting exchange," Cassandra's voice pulling her from her reverie. "Do you mind if I ask how you know our commander?" She probes, sounding genuinely curious.
"I don't mind," Brielle replies with a smile, "I lost my family when I was very young and was sent to the Chantry. Cullen was already there, he sorta took me under his wing, I think I reminded him of his little sisters he hadn't seen in a while." Brielle continues at the Seeker's raised brow, assuming she hasn't quite satisfied the woman's curiosity. "Last time I saw him was when he left for the Circle in Ferelden, we wrote letters for a few years but when the Circle fell they stopped coming. Really I'm surprised he recognized me, last time I saw him I was just twelve."
Varric chuckles and smiles mischievously at Brielle. "So you and Curly go way back, huh? Got any good stories?" He asks, nudging her side with his elbow playfully.
She laughs at that, "As much as I hate to disappoint, probably not the kind you're looking for. I know he knew the Hero of Ferelden when he as at the Circle, sounded like they may have had something going there. Other than that, I don't know much about Cullen and his eh… exploits. I'm afraid I was too young to really pay attention. Though, I'm sure he has plenty about me as a bratty child."
"Awww you're no fun." He sighs and waves her off with a grin.
Brielle chuckles and shakes her head, "Yeah… I know. Although, if you have any stories, I would love to hear them. Seeing as I haven't spoken to him in about eight years you probably know more than I do now." She looks down at the handsome dwarf, mirth gleaming in her eyes. "Please, Varric, tell me of Ser Cullen."
Cullen returns to his soldiers and they begin the hike back to their home, his feelings a mix of excitement at seeing Brielle again and also bewilderment at what he actually saw. He had left behind a girl, and though he knew she would mature in the time they had been apart, it hadn't been at the forefront of his mind, and he hadn't been prepared for the woman who just stood before him. The Brielle he remembered was a timid child who would perch at his feet in the chantry library, eyes bright with curiosity as he read her tales of Templars and Wardens and heroes of Ferelden. They had both been sent to the chantry at young ages, he at thirteen by his own insistence and she at six due to the loss of her family. When she arrived, Cullen had already been there for over a year and had been missing his siblings a great deal; when he was asked to show her around and get her acquainted with her new home, they bonded instantly.
His understanding of her situation and kindness toward her made her feel safe in a world of uncertainty and soon she was trailing him like a lost mabari pup. Cullen didn't mind though, he felt protective over her as if she were his own sister. But the Brielle who just marched down the path ahead of him wasn't a lanky, knock-kneed tomboy with wild hair and dirt perpetually smeared across her face, and she wasn't someone he would think of as a sister either. She'd grown tall and lithe, straight ebony hair falling in a smooth cascade down her back, with warm honey brown eyes framed by sharply arching brows and long thick lashes; her slightly upturned nose and sweetly curving lips giving her an impish, mischievous look. He finds her captivating, and if there's one thing he knows, it's that this fact will make it even more difficult to explain to her why they hadn't spoken in nearly ten years.