A/N: About 85% through the first playthrough and decided to write out this scene in game from another prospective. And no, Fenris isn't in there. I only added him in because I know he will not simply listen and do as he told.

All characters belonged to Bioware. Nhilva Lavellan belonged to me.

Dragon Age: Inquisition

Prayers.

The air was crackled with energy. Sparks were flying here and there. Whirling sound of heavy wind echoed throughout the small courtyard, accompanied by the high screech and the low roar, made this formidable Adamant Fortress felt like another place entirely. Well, it might as well be, considering the amount of demons and abominations they were fighting with right at this very moment. Not to mention the gaping hole hovered in the middle of the platform.

It was the Rift, the tear of the Veil that separate the Fade and the real world. Unlike the others, this one was manmade, created by the Grey Warden, under the illusion of the next Blight was approaching, to summon the demons and bind them to Non-Warden mages, then march to the Deep Road to kill the Old Gods. Judging by the ashes scattered around the paving stone and only a small handful of demons when they arrived at the scene, the large demon was quite possibly slaughtered by the Inquisitor. Their Inquisitor.

Smallish demons.

"Did you say this tear was unsuccessful?" Cullen stabbed his great sword into the heart of the abomination and barked at the elf nearby. It was Fenris, the Tevinter elf who he met briefly at Kirkwall over a year ago. He had turned up at the Adamant not long after the Inquisitor entered, his expression riddled with worry and fear. Apparently the devoted companion of Ageha Hawke had been closely followed her for some time and knew exactly what and where she had been going.

"If it was a successful one, it will be Haven number two," Fenris swun the Blade of Mercy over his shoulder and ran his flowing hand over a rage demon's chest, instantly turned it into ashes. He looked around and gave him an arched brow: "You will know."

The Commander said nothing, merely turned his gaze toward the tear. Other than the glowing light, he could not see anything beyond. He hoped he could. He hoped he was able to walk through that hole and search for the realm on the other side. Except he was trapped here, waiting for some sort of miracle to happen.

That she would suddenly appeared.

Just like that last time in Haven.

There hadn't been a moment, since his time in the Circle Tower, that he had been so terrified in his life. Not his own. It was never his own. It was always about the others.

Especially about her.

"Come on, Nhilva." He murmured under his breath.

X X X

It was like the Circle Tower and the Kirkwall all over again. There were demons pouring out of that glowing strip. Large and aggressive, they slaughtered nearly half of his men. And there were more coming. Cullen was once again overwhelmed with helplessness and fear. When would this nightmare going to end? He knew what he was facing when he signed up the Order all those years ago, yet to have it over and over, to watch his commrades die around him, to sense the dread thick in the air and to watch the death slowly approaching, it really pushed him to the limit.

Would it be the end of him this time? He would not help himself but wonder, knowing full well it did his spirit no good. The Warden, the little Circle mage he once knew back at the Tower, was long gone. The Champion was nowhere to be found. There were no one here this time. It appeared Maker had deserted him at long last. Leaning against his sword after slaying one very tough Shade, he looked up and saw another soldier being torn apart by two Rage Demons. Shutting his eyes tight briefly, he made a silent prayer and opened his eyes once more, this time they were steady and filled with determination.

If he was going to die here, he would take those demons down with him.

He raised his weapon once more and was charging towards the Rage Demons when a bolt of fire zoomed past him, hitting the wicked being right in the chest. He watched the Fade creature made a high pitch noise and crumbled into dust. Frowning, he turned his gaze over his shoulders and saw an elf stood a few feet away from him. Her delicate feature was half nervous and half disbelief. She had the typical Dalish tattoos on her forehead and her long silver hair was shaven on one side. Wrapping in the ragged shawl and a bloodied armour, she looked like a warrior goddess reincarnate.

She was Nhilva.

X X X

"This is just like the old time, Broody!" Varric laughed, waving his crossbow about as one more demon bit the dust before him: "Remember the good old days?! Good times, no?"

"You made it sounds like something of the last life," Fenris shook his head, also returning his gaze back to the tear: "It was only a year ago, Dwarf."

"Hey, years of a storyteller is like dog years. We count things differently, as you may have known," The Dwarf snorted and frowned at the same direction, his expression turned serious: "...What's keeping them, I wonder?"

The gash had finally stopped spilling out demons. And other than the hissing and crackling sound, there were nothing coming out of it. Everyone, Wardens or the Inquisition troops, had paused and all stared at the Rift, waiting, hoping, praying. Praying Andraste would show miracle once more. She had to. She had done it once back in Haven, when he realised what was in front of him and feared it was too late. She would not be so cruel this time, taking away the only thing that mattered to him.

Had he told her that? He couldn't honestly remember.

x x x

"I care for you, Cullen...You...you left the Templars, but...do you trust mages? Could you think of me as...anything more?"

Cullen's eyes widen in suprise at Nhilva's stuttering confession. The air was crisp in the high mountain and there were not a cloud in the sky. And there she was, standing before him, cheeks pinkening. There had not been a moment she looked so beautiful. His chest tightened at the realisation what her words meant and filled with joy. His feeling toward her was reciprocated.

"Uh...I could."

X X X

His hands tightening on the hilt and his knuckles turned white. His face was turning paler and paler by the minute. How long had it been since they stood here? A few minutes? An hour? A day? It did not matter. Any minute with her was like a lifetime of hell on Thedas. He would not lose her. He could not lose her. She had brought him calm and made him come to term with his past. She had loved him for the way he was now and not given a damn about what he was like before. No, she had never said it out loud, but she had showed it in every way she could, naturally, unreservedly. There were more than once he wondered what her life was like before the even took place in the conclave. While he seemed to tell her almost everything about himself, there were so many things about her he did not know about. He should have asked. Surely she would be more than willing to share.

"She will be alright, Curly," Varric's voice jerked his senses out of his thoughts. He turned and looked at the dwarf's warm eyes, not sure if what he said was just to comfort him or something else.

He managed to pull the corners of his mouth into a tight smile before returned his attention back to the Rift. She had to be alright. She was the herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor, a first of the Dalish Clan.

And a woman he loved.

Memories of her kept surface inside his head. Her practicing spells in the empty courtyard. Her flickering through pages of old tome. Her laughing at the joke Sera made at the table when they were playing Wicked Grace. Her soft lilting voice when she humphed the old Dalish tune.

Her stealing looks at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Her tilting face toward the warm sun when they sit at the old pier he used to visit frequently as a boy. Her soft sigh when he kissed her.

He wanted to spend all his life to be with her, watching her, long after this war was ended. He wanted to be able to put more moments of her away inside his head, and treasured it until his last day, and perhaps beyond. He wanted to tell her, every day, that he loved her. He was greedy. He wanted more. He wanted all of her. Maker's breath, wouldn't that be too much?

x x x

"We should...spend more time together," Culled peered over the chest pieces and suggested a little shyly. It had been such a pleasant time, as well as change, compared to the endless Inquisition jobs they seemed always talking about, or doing, pretty much since they met. He realised he longed to have more of those times.

"Me, too." Nhilva grinned at him, admitting, blushing a bit.

He looked at her for a long moment, unable to believe what she just said. Then his expression slowly broke into a wider grin. One side of his lips slanted up.

"...You said that."

X X x x

"Commander!" One of the Grey Warden mages shouted, pointing at the Rift: "More demons coming!"

Cullen swore: "Get the men ready!"

Arms were up. Spells were readied. As demons began to pour out and they began to fend out one more wave of sinister beings from beyond, the tear suddenly changed. The light grew brighter, to a point no one, not even the demons, were able to see anything. Holding his hand over his eyes, he struggled to see what happened. A hand appeared, then an arm, then the whole body. Next thing he knew, Nhilva stepped over the tear. He watched her fired a lightening bolt at the nearest Arcane Horror, sending it flying toward the wall and shattered. Behind her, those accompanied her began to climb out. Iron Bull, Solas, Sera, and...Hawke. He could hear the loud sigh of relief coming from Fenris somewhere. But he did not turn to look. He could not turn his eyes away from her.

She waited for the Champion of Kirkwall stepped out and raised her marked hand. It began to glow. Metalic green sparks crackled. In front of everyone's eyes, the gash became smaller and smaller. Then it vanished with a soft pop. All noises seized, and all demons evaporated.

She turned and caught his gaze. Her face broke into one of the brightest grin he had seen.

"Cullen." She mouthed.

"Nhilva." He mouthed back. Andraste had answered his prayer once more.

Once more he counted himself fortunate.