Lead Me to a Brighter Road
A Dragon Age: Inquisition AU Fanfiction
Chapter One: A Step on the Stone
Her hand suddenly felt heavy as she reached for the handle of the door. Perhaps her ears had even slightly twitched. She was still nervous about this whole Inquisition business. And she was certainly still wary of the Seeker's vigilant gaze, even if she knew the woman's intentions were noble at heart. Magdalene cautiously turned the knob and waited for Cassandra to go ahead of her. Her eyes wandered to the light of the flickering torches lit across the Haven chantry, illuminating the stone and wood of the small space.
To think, not long ago she had walked down the main aisle to the entrance bound in rope, a prisoner, distrusted on many fronts. A terrible green mark appeared on her hand, a color resonant of the breach in the Fade -the realms of spirits- waiting just up the road in the Temple. It was that green mark on her hand that had saved everyone though. She was able to close the breach. Now the people who suspected her as a culprit had taken her as an ally. And today, she was to be acquainted with those that ran this new found group, the Inquisition, who sought to truly seal the breach and find whomever or whatever caused it.
Cassandra was the only person she had really become acquainted with in her time with the Inquisition so far. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had met Varric and Solas. They seemed both a more hospitable sort to be sure.
She stepped in after the Seeker, closing the door behind her. Magdalene's nose twitched, the dark-haired mage catching the scent of burning candle wax and dust. Her boots clicked on the floor as she turned around.
Three people were already waiting for them in the room. One she recognized clearly- the woman in a blue hood with chain mail and leather from before. Strands of red hair escaped from the confines of the hood she wore, framing each side of her face. What was her name again? She could have sworn she remembered the woman was called...
"You've already met before, but firstly, may I present Sister Leliana," Cassandra explained. Ah yes, Leliana! That was the name. The woman stepped forward.
"Yes, you were with Chancellor Roderick on the bridge," the elf recalled aloud. Leliana nodded.
"My position in the Inquisition requires a degree of..."
She paused, perhaps at a loss as to how to explain herself. Leliana's brow furrowed, and her blue eyes narrowed as she pondered.
Cassandra interjected without hesitation.
"She is our Spymaster."
A smirk formed on Leliana's face.
"Yes...tactfully put, Cassandra."
Spymaster...so spies, scouts, secrets. Magdalene seemed to get the gist well enough. Cassandra turned her attention to the other woman at the opposite end of the wooden table in front of them.
The first thing she noticed readily was her demeanor differed from Leliana's. She seemed more welcoming, more open, easier to trust. But she also had a regal air about her. The fine gold and blue cloth of her puffy dress certainly added to that impression. Not to mention the tightly woven braids in her hair. She seemed quite...aristocratic.
"This is Lady Josephine Montilyet," Cassandra introduced her, "She is our ambassador and chief diplomat."
The woman called Josephine bowed slightly, her writing board barely moving an inch.
"Andaran atish'an," she greeted Magdalene.
The elf almost took a step back. That was the first time she had heard the language of her people in days, not since those that came with her at the Conclave...
She shook off her train of thought. It was not good to dwell on her loss right now.
"You speak elven?"
"You just heard the entirety of it, I'm afraid," the diplomat replied regretfully.
The final person to be introduced stepped forward, having waited very quietly between the two women to be introduced. Magdalene's eyes fell to him. He was an older looking man, dressed in well crafted steel plate and leather strapping and bands of black cloth. What was distinct though, was the long black cloak he wore over his armor, lined around the neck with gray and white fur.
She recognized that armor. She had seen him fighting demons near one of the rifts on her way up the mountain with the others to seal the breach. But his face had been covered by a helm fashioned to look like the head of a wolf.
"And this is the leader of the Inquisition's military forces," Cassandra explained.
"I'm quite capable of introducing myself, Seeker Pentaghast," he interjected.
"Commander Samson," she stubbornly continued, her tone changing to have an almost threatening sharpness to it.
The man turned his attention back to Magdalene and his expression subdued somewhat to a more solemn one.
"I see you survived our assault on the breach. Well done," he commended her, "We lost enough people during the ordeal."
Magdalene nodded. His voice seemed every bit as gravely as during the fight on the battlefield, albeit perhaps lacking some of the volume and bite from before. As his gaze turned back to Cassandra, something caught her eye. On his gauntlets, she saw the shape of a sword engulfed in flame. Couldn't be...was this man a Templar?
She felt a lump beginning to form in her throat at the thought. Her Keeper had always warned her to be wary of Templars, especially being the first of her clan. Well, former first of her clan, if she stayed with the Inquisition long enough.
"I mentioned that you mark needs more power to close the breach for good," Cassandra's words called her back to the matter at hand. Although her gaze never wandered far from having view of the Commander, now cautious of his possible background.
"If we need power poured into the mark, then we'll need to approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana replied.
Ah yes, the rebel mages. The Circle of Magi the humans maintained had fallen apart. And now most of the former mages of the circle had turned to the wilderness, fighting against Templars to keep their new found freedom. And the Templars, having felt the Chantry a too lenient hand on the mages, left to seek their own way. Or, that's what she had heard and seen in her travels, Magdalene recalled.
Samson shook his head.
"That would be the logical conclusion, wouldn't it? It could be dangerous trying to make an alliance with them though. It might be a safer bet to go the Templars for help," he retorted.
"We need power, Commander, enough magic poured into that mark-"
Samson cut in before Cassandra could finish her comment.
"A number of things could happen, Seeker, not the least of which might be bringing us all to the Maker's side earlier than intended. With the Templars, we could weaken the magic around the Breach, making it so..."
"Pure speculation," Leliana deflected.
"I once called myself a Templar and was among their ranks. I would think I have a good idea of what they can do, Sister Leliana," his voice lowered as his gaze turned down to the map on the table.
"Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet," Josephine finally spoke, breaking up the argument.
"The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition- and you, specifically."
Magdalene's gaze turned down as she tried to conceal a frown.
"They still think I'm guilty."
"That is not the entirety of it any longer," the ambassador elaborated, "Some are calling you -a Dalish elf- the 'Herald of Andraste', that frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you."
Magdalene paused, confounded by what was said. Why did they start doing that? Calling her...Especially considering she came from a people who had specifically rejected the Andrastian faith in preference to the gods of their ancestors.
"Just how am I the Herald of Andraste?"
"There was was a women seen in the rift when we first found you at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Many believe that it was Andraste, and that your ability to seal rifts is a sign that you are an agent of perhaps her or the Maker himself," Cassandra answered.
Samson smirked, shaking his head.
"People are always quick to look for and rally around some sort of savior in times of need. Still, a herald of the bride of the Maker herself? That's a pretty impressive title if I've ever heard one."
He met Magdalene's gaze.
"Don't know what you would think of it though. You're the one saddled with it, after all."
Magdalene sighed.
"I find it a bit unsettling, to be honest."
"I don't blame you, all things considered."
"It's true what Samson said," Leliana admitted, "Many people are searching for a sign of hope. To some, you are that sign."
"...And to others, a symbol of everything that has gone wrong," Josephine added.
"Well, it doesn't seem like we have a lot of options if neither the mages or Templars want to help, and we don't have much support elsewhere, either, from the sounds of it."
"It would appear that way," Leliana replied to Magdalene's observation. The elf approached the table, her eyes starting to wander to the map.
"Actually, there is something that can be done. Specifically, something you can do," she continued to address her, "A chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved better than I. Her help could prove invaluable."
Magdalene raised an eyebrow.
"I thought the Chantry had denounced us? Why would someone like that help a declared heretic?"
"I've been told she is a reasonable sort," said Leliana, "Perhaps she does not agree with her sisters? In any case, she is tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe."
Samson nodded.
"Well, it seems you have a course, then, don't you? When you head into the Hinterlands, the Inquisition could use a hand in spreading its influence. The more people we have on our side, the easier it will be to carry out our mission and bring stability after everything that's happened."
"Also, we need agents to extend that influence beyond this valley," Josephine added, "And considering the position you now hold, you are better suited than anyone to recruit them."
Magdalene nodded. Well then, she certainly was hitting the ground running, wasn't she?
"In the meantime, let's think of other options," Cassandra suggested, "I won't leave this all to the Herald."
Well, that was a bit reassuring perhaps. But even with other options being considered, a lot was dependent on her, especially with Magdalene's ability to close the rifts. But could she also really sway others to the cause of the Inquisition as well? Even if many people considered her a Herald of Andraste- old prejudices die hard. She was a Dalish elf and a mage on top of that. That might be hard for some people to look past or not give a second thought to. And that was just ordinary people, not just major players like the Chantry.
The meeting went on a bit longer. Leliana discussed dispatching scouts to keep watch over the area until Magdalene arrived to meet with Mother Giselle. Some other matters the Inquisition was interested in came to light. The council meeting was eventually brought to a close though, and by the end of it, Magdalene was rather glad for it. It wasn't as though she didn't want to help though. But, the question looming- was she really fit for the burden placed upon her?
The group dispersed from the room, but not before Magdalene caught eye of Samson again. He was the last to leave, the tail of his cloak trailing behind him.
"Commander?," she asked hesitantly, a familiar thought poking at the back of her mind as he past.
"Yes, Herald?"
"Back in the meeting...you said you used to be a Templar?," she questioned.
"That's right," he answered quickly, "Were you meaning to ask about it?"
He tucked back a strand from his receding dark brown hair.
"I was just...wondering...if...because of your history as a Templar...if there would be a problem...what I mean to say is..."
The elf was at a loss for words. She was more concerned about whether the two of them would have problems working together. Especially considering there was Templar history with the Dalish- especially Dalish apprentices.
"You and none of the mages here have anything to fear from me, if that's what you're wondering," his tone soured after a period of silence between them had passed. His return to a more negative register in his voice put Magdalene on guard. Then again, that was an answer to the question she had been hesitating to ask, more or less.
"I was once a Templar, as I said. I'm not one of them anymore. Even if I was, there's no point in causing trouble with you or any other mage in the Inquisition. Not that I'd be stupid enough to even want to," he elaborated.
Samson shuffled towards the door. Magdalene wanted to say something but wasn't sure what.
"I need to go see how the men are doing with their training. I suggest you start preparing for your journey into the Hinterlands."
His parting words were a bit more biting. It seems she had hit a sore spot of some sort. Perhaps it was bad to make assumptions. But could he really blame her, given the current state of events? Actually, perhaps he could. Even if there were mages and former Templars who had dedicated themselves to the Inquisition, there's no doubt the conflict raging just outside of Haven would affect them. It probably affected them long before they came here.
….
Magdalene eventually had gotten everything she had needed to set out for her journey into the Hinterlands. The clothes she fit into were a bit dense compared to garments of Dalish make, and the colors perhaps seemed a bit duller than she was used to. But they were certainly better than she had expected. Sturdy, well-tanned leather and tightly woven cloth was certainly what was needed for the job.
She tugged at her sleeve for a moment. The elf was satisfied with her examination, ready to make her last run-through to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Magdalene turned her gaze, scanning the buildings around Haven, recalling if she had stopped at the various crafters to pick up needed supplies.
And in the midst of this, her eyes happened upon a group of the Inquisition's soldiers, beating sword against shield in their training and practice. Samson was as expected, at the forefront of the group. He was shouting instructions, corrections, and other various comments. His voice seemed a little on the hoarse side whenever he raised it, or so she noticed in the short time that had past since their initial meeting.
It was funny, she thought. In a lot of ways he seemed to match the image of Templars that the Keeper of her clan had taught her from a young age. He could be on the gruff and pushy side, and perhaps even a tad pessimistic. But then again, these were perhaps only initial impressions. After the retort he had given her earlier if anything was nothing but a warning to caution her against making assumptions.
So far he had kept to his word though. He hadn't given her or any other mage in the Inquisition trouble. Not yet, anyway.
And yet he wasn't exactly the most approachable of the Inquisition's three specialists, either.
"Excuse me," an Inquisition messenger moved past her, approaching the Commander with a report of some type. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she followed them until she was within hearing range of the messenger as he caught Samson's attention.
"Commander, I have a copy of both Captain Rhylen and Captain Cullen's reports," the messenger addressed him. Samson turned around.
"Oh? Right, let's have a look then," Samson replied quickly, taking the parchments from the messenger. He read them over, asking a few questions of the messenger before bidding him on his way. It was discussion of troop training, supplies, and also talk of the activity of the rebel mages and Templars.
It was a moment before Magdalene realized his eyes had left the page.
"Lavellan? Was there something you needed from me?"
Magdalene paused. He often used either Herald or her clan's name (which she used as a surname) to address her, though the adopted surname he used less often so far. So it got her attention when he did make use of it.
"No, no, I apologize, I didn't mean to interrupt," She responded hastily. The elf took a deep breath and composed herself.
"I overheard your having someone tracking the activity of the Templars and the mages?"
He shook his head.
"Ah, eavesdropping I see," he smirked, "Yes. I know our Spymaster is keen on these things and is watching everyone more closely than for some people's comfort. But waiting in the shadows will only get you so far. And right now Lady Montilyet's diplomats will be more effective elsewhere."
Magdalene nodded.
"I see. I know Josephine can 't arrange diplomacy with the mages or the Templars at the moment, but what can a soldier do that a Scout wouldn't be able to? Scouts and spies can gather information in a variety of ways, as I understand it."
The Commander motioned to the mage, and the two of them began to walk slowly, following a circular path around the practicing recruits, a trail of up-heaved snow forming behind them.
"Scouts and spies are mainly not supposed to be seen, or, if they are, it's under some sort of guise of one thing or another. A soldier is an honest face and can fight in the open when called for it. But, in a lot of cases, there are soldiers who do more than fighting," Samson explained. He pushed back a loose strand of his hair that happened to fall towards his wrinkled face. The Commander did this quite a bit, she had noticed.
"Soldiers also protect others, and they can ready assistance to others in need. And grateful souls can provide a wealth of information and resources. For the right individuals, having a face that they can see, can identify with and feel trusting towards will put them at ease."
Samson sighed.
"And a lot of people forget that. But it's especially important that the Inquisition extend a hand as we try to expand our influence. Otherwise it'll just seem like we're pushing people out of the way on our way to catch whatever wild thing we're chasing. And folks don't take very kindly to that."
Magdalene raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of inquisitiveness getting the better of her.
"You're speaking from experience?"
"You could say that yes," he answered sharply, his face tensing. It seemed as though this was another touchy subject. Perhaps it was best to back away to something else?
"How is it that your joined the Inquisition, Commander?," she asked, falling to what Magdalene might consider an easier topic of conversation. Samson's facial expression relaxed and he turned back to the soldiers.
"I was helping a fellow Templar rally what was left of our order back in Kirkwall, in the Free Marches. Was trying to keep some stability after all went to shit down there," he recalled solemnly, "Seeker Pentaghast approached both of us and invited us to join her. Thought we could be of help to her cause. In the end, one of us was to take the mantle of Commander. And my fellow Templar...recommended that I step into the role. I was not of the same mind, but the Seeker agreed with him. And I'm not one to argue. I'll do the job, and I'll do my damn best. The men and women under the command of the Inquisition deserve no less."
"Did you not want the position?"
Samson paused. For the first time since she had talked to him, he seemed hesitant.
"That was not the concern," he said, finally settling on an answer.
The two of them had made a lap around the trainer soldiers as the two of them continued to converse.
"There is always a burden that comes with Command, Herald," he added, "With any position of leadership. Yours included."
Magdalene grimaced, thinking back to this title she had bestowed upon her. The Herald of Andraste, she thought. It certainly did seem like it would be as much of a burden as it would be a tool with which she could exorcize power.
"That's all I want to say about myself in the matter," he insisted, "However, might I give you some advice?"
The elf blinked.
"I would certainly accept any advice you might offer. I honestly could use it."
"You're doing alright so far, but keep in mind that what you are now is a responsibility. Many leaders ignore that," he said.
Magdalene gulped.
"I will certainly try."
Samson nodded.
"I suppose that will have to do. But, as Commander of the Inquisition's forces, I would suggest you to do more than try. Trying is admirable, but actually doing will take you the farthest."
Before Magdalene could respond, a few of the soldiers approached him, vying for his attention.
"I need to get back to my duties. And I believe that you need to gather your group. You need to get to Mother Giselle as soon as you can."
As the Commander stepped away to give his full attention to the soldiers, the mage clenched her fist.
"Right."
Could she do more than try though? At being a leader? But, what if she failed? That thought frightened her especially, as in her mind failure was something that was quite possible in the current state of affairs. That was quite the expectation the Commander had presented to her. It was very daunting, to say the least.
And yet, regarding the Commander himself, she felt, surprisingly more at ease after that conversation. He had his own concerns from the way he spoke, though he deigned not to examine them too deeply in the open. That was understandable, she supposed. Then again, maybe she might have been prodding him more than she should have, she reasoned.
She still was a bit wary to be certain, it was a rather gut reaction knowing what he used to be, what he belonged to before. But, if they were going to work together, there needed to be some level of trust. And trust certainly isn't earned by avoidance.
…
Past injustices can make building alliances a difficult prospect. The Chantry denounced the Inquisition, the mages and the Templars were fighting one another, and people were in fear of the breach still whirling in the sky. All of these things were felt strongly by the people in Haven, both citizens and Inquisition alike. It surprised nobody that tensions would boil over at a point about one of these things.
Magdalene's excursion into the Hinterlands had born fruit- more so than the main objective, to her surprise. Along the way her group had come across the people of Redcliffe and the surrounding areas, displaced by the fighting. Many were hurting for food, for medicine, for protection. Even some members of the Inquisition needed a helping hand. Magdalene and the few who traveled with her had managed to do these people some kindness, some justice. And they were indeed successful at finding Mother Giselle. She agreed to return to Haven with them after making arrangements with those she cared for at the Crossroads in the Hinterlands. She had even pointed the Inquisition to a new possibility: the gathering of the remaining Chantry clerics in Val Royeaux, to the west in Orlais. Going there may address the huge problem of the Chantry's current opposition to the Inquisition, which was sorely needed if the Inquisition was to get anywhere with closing the breach.
Magdalene was thankful to be back in Haven, almost feeling comforted by the steady descent of snow around the village as she passed through the front gate. She missed her clan back in the Free Marches, wherever they went was home to her. Haven wasn't really a home, but it certainly was a place to rest and organize for the next thing.
She would be doing any of those things at the moment though, from the sounds of shouts and curses that assaulted her ears from up the road. Several voices created a cacophony, and demanded the attention of any who listened. It was nearly impossible to distinguish anything.
Creators, what was all the ruckus? Had a brawl broken out between the men? Or was something worse going on? Magdalene rushed up the road, kicking snow and dust as she went. The mage sprinted as fast as she could towards the source of the noise, leading her to a gathering of people just outside the Haven Chantry.
There was indeed a fight going on. To one side, people with robes and staves verbally clashed with the other side, clad in armor and wielding swords and shields. It seemed the tension of the Mage/Templar war had seeped its way into the very ranks of the Inquisition, and an internal conflict had arisen. It was mostly words and threatening gestures being tossed at this point, none seemed to have engaged one another physically already. She finally could make out some of what was being said. The main argument circled around the death of the late Divine Justinia and the breach. Each side was blaming the other for these things, as well as a few other heavy events that had occurred within recent time.
This was bad, she thought. If members of the Inquisition had come to fighting amongst themselves, how were they going to persuade anyone- let alone the Chantry, the rebel mages or Templars, to aid them in their cause or see them as a just force.
At that moment, she felt someone brush past her, and she heard a voice softly apologize.
"Excuse me, Lady Herald."
The elf looked up to see a man clad in a rather elaborate set of armor walking towards the fighting. Surprisingly, his armor highly resembled Commander Samson's in design. Though, the outer cloth layer was a burgundy and gold-trimmed vestment of sorts rather than a cloak, with very dense fur draping the shoulders.
She hadn't seen him before, but from the look of that armor, she wondered if he was someone rather high up in the Inquisition.
"That is enough!," the man held back one of the warriors who was about to draw his sword in anger at the words one of the mages had lashed out with.
"But Knight-Captain," the warrior objected, "He-"
"That is NO LONGER my title," the man rebuked him, "We are NOT TEMPLARS. We are all part of the Inquistion."
"And what does that mean, exactly, Captain?," an objecting voice came from the crowd. Striding up to this 'Captain' was a man clad in red and white robes indicating his affiliation with the Chantry. Magdalene recognized the middle-aged man as none other than Chancellor Roderick. He was there when Magdalene had stabilized the breach, decrying her and the Inquistion from the start. And now he was here for more trouble, she thought. Joy of joys.
"Chancellor Roderick? I see he can't leave well alone," Also emerging from the crowd was Samson, striding to the Captain's side.
"Apparently not," the Captain replied.
"Ah, Commander Samson! Good that you are here. Tell me something," the Chancellor spoke with an accusatory sting, "I'm curious as to how your Inquisition and your 'Herald' will restore order as you have promised."
Samson and the Captain exchanged annoyed glances with one another.
"Of course, as if you had anything else you wanted to discuss," Samson nearly spat his words. The Captain turned to the mages and the soldiers.
"All right, back to your duties, all of you."
As soon as the crowd dispersed, Samson nearly marched his way to the Chancellor, his boots digging into the earth.
"Now listen here, Chancellor Roderick," he hissed, "This isn't MY inquisition. She's NOT MY Herald. You bloody well listen, you. This Inquisition is a chance for other people to do what the Chantry had failed to do. What the Chantry IS failing to do."
"I beg your pardon, but is this how you address all Chantry officials Commander?"
The inflammatory statement really hit Samson. From what Magdalene could tell, Samson was almost gritting his teeth.
"No, but I don't take kindly to anyone who throws around accusations and starts fights unless they know what they are bloody well talking about."
The two were nearly standing toe to toe.
"Commander, we just broke up a fight. We don't need you starting another one," the Captain urged him to stand down. Samson relaxed, sighing tiredly.
"You're right. It would set a bad example after what just happened. And it's more trouble than it's worth, anyhow."
The Captain shook his head.
"Mages and Templars are already at war, and now they are blaming each other for the Divine's death, as you saw."
"Which is why they need a proper authority to guide them back," Chancellor Roderick interjected.
"Who, you? Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"
Samson smirked at the Captain's cutting remark.
"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste?' I think not," the Chancellor responded in kind.
Magdalene became incensed herself at this point, feeling compelled to step in.
"Why can't we work together? Neither one of us is the enemy, the thing we need to focus on is the breach," she insisted. The Chancellor folded his arms.
"Ah, and the 'Herald' herself joins us as well," he frowned, "The Inquisition was formed without Chantry sanction. And there are no answers as to what caused the breach in the first place. And you claim you don't remember what happened or how you got that mark. I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't play a part in causing the breach in the first place!"
Magdalene shook her head.
"Centuries of tradition will guide us, as it always has," Roderick continued on his earlier train of thought, "We are not the upstarts, turning over every apple cart with such zeal."
The conversation continued. Neither Samson nor this Cullen really thought the Chancellor had any bite to him, which is why he had stayed with the Inquistion as long as he had. And, if he was anything to go by, this may very well be what Magdalene could expect on her trip to the Orlesian capitol. The Mage and Templar war was already quite widespread, as many knew, and with the death of the Divine, hostility was renewed between the two sides. Many would leave the affair of what happened to the new Divine. And yet there was certain reason to distrust having to wait for that, despite any good intentions.
"If I am to go to Val Royeaux, I hope I can find solutions, and perhaps people in the Chantry willing to listen to reason and act rather than wait around and argue about 'tradition' until whoever made the breach is at our doorstep with a vengeance."
"You are so ready to mock the traditions of the Chantry, and what of your people? Would you reject their traditions so easily?"
Magdalene clenched her teeth at the Chancellor's question.
"Preserving knowledge and passing down tradition is important. But if it prevents people from preventing problems from being solved or is causing harm, than obviously something needs to change. I make no exception for the Dalish," she retorted, "If-"
She narrowed her gaze.
"Are you done Chancellor?," Samson intervened before Magdalene could finish.
"I see I can only get so far with you people. I'm sure I will have cause to return, but for now I should return to my other obligations."
As the Chancellor turned his back, Magdalene could see Samson rolling his eyes, watching the Chantry official walk away until his vanished into the walkways below.
"I would almost say he's more trouble than he's worth," he spat.
"I just wish her weren't so argumentative and more open to trusting us," Magdalene sighed, "I know not all of his reasons are well...unreasonable...but still..."
"He's been very crass to others, but not to worry, as I said he's rather toothless at the moment," the Captain responded.
Magdalene nodded.
"In that case, it would be best to discuss other matters," she responded, eager to remove the thought of the Chancellor from her attention.
The Captain put his hand back, his fingers passing wisps of his well-combed blonde hair, to rub the back of his neck. Samson stepped in.
"In that case, I suppose an introduction between you two might be in order, since I don't believe the two of you have met yet."
Magdalene blinked. Of course!
"No, we haven't," the Captain confirmed, a disarming smile forming on his face, "Although I've heard much about you, Lady Herald. You did well in stabilizing the breach and with your work in the Hinterlands."
"I...thank you," Magdalene blushed lightly, "I assure you though, I'm simply doing what I can do help."
Samson shook his head.
"Mistress Lavellan, this is Captain Cullen. He is officially my second in command, though he often spends his time out in the field gathering information and recruiting some to the cause."
"Good to make your acquaintance Cullen," Magdalene bowed her head politely.
"And you already know who she is," Samson smirked.
"True, still, as a formality, it's good to finally meet you, Lavellan," Cullen bowed in kind.
"It's quite the task to earn the trust of others as we're trying to do. How do you feel about this meeting with the clerics in Val Royeaux?"
Magdalene looked around.
"Well, to be honest, I'm not confident. If Roderick is anything to go by, I'm not sure what we'll accomplish."
"None of us know if we'll be able to get the Chantry and its supporters to see you and the Inquisition as not the blasphemers they make us out to be," Cullen noted solemnly, "You are already the face of the Inquisition, you might not see it, but what you have to say will carry weight."
Magdalene appreciated the confidence this person put in her. But, even if her words were supposed to carry weight, would they even listen? Was she really the right person to convince them? Whether she was right, though, she would need to be the one to do it, she supposed.
"It's certainly better to believe we'll accomplish something," Samson remarked, "If you believe you'll fail, you might as already be doomed."
Another statement from Samson that sounded like it came from experience, with the authoritative sternness he put into it.
They had to succeed. They needed help. The breach needed to be sealed, and the mystery around its creation needed to be uncovered.
…