Tough to Cut

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dragon Age or their characters or their stories. Bioware is to thank for bestowing us such amazing work. I only claim my own original character and any other made that character I have created.

*Chapter names coined by the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

Author's Note: Well...here we are. I'm currently taking a break from my other stories to craft this one. Most of what I'm doing is just playing it by ear, but then again, when have I not? So this is the story of one of my Inquisitor (yes there are more than one, don't ask me how many times I've played the game). It will kind of contain some headcanons as well. If you have heard of some other ones, I'd like to hear it cause headcanons are awesome. Another issue is I don't know who she's going to be paired with. I've got two in mind, but I can't decide between the two (spoiler alert: it's not Cullen).

Anyways, feel free to leave a review, constructive criticism is always welcome. And yeah, enjoy.

Chapter 1: Oleka

Haven was a place where many could not rest easily. Despite the amicable name given to the small settlement, it was for sure not a place where sweet dreams took place. The refugees could not sleep without interruption of a horrid nightmare, consuming all that their innocent minds could fathom. Soldiers faced a long day of training or marching the roads. But yet as they laid in their bedrolls they stared up at the chasm created in the sky, knowing the dangers that could swallow the world. The spies can close their eyes, but their minds are constantly aware of their surroundings. They live a life of exposing others and hiding in the shadows; sleeping left them vulnerable to the demons, mages and anyone that could stab them in the back. Many others came to terms with the giant hole in the sky and that one night of sleep could mean the end, but yet it couldn't. Nevertheless, there were always those select people that did not even bother to get any sleep at all. How could you when there were other pressing matters to attend to?

Then there was one person who was all the above but neglected to sleep because of the burden given.

The sound of metal scratching against chainmail and the clash of swords were almost like a lullaby to a curly haired man. The Commander's job was to observe the recruits and critique their techniques at the time. But no matter how much he claimed he doesn't mind the constant sound, he felt his eyes beginning to become heavy and his focus waning. It was always hard to tell with the Commander if he was drifting. Even though he felt tired, not once did he close his eyes for too long or lay his head down during a meeting with the advisers. He always stood erect and reserved his attention to his duties.

At the moment, he felt himself slouch and adjusted his posture. Once he rotated his head to his left he heard someone call him, "Commander." He turned his body to his right, seeing the Inquisition's spymaster, Leliana. Her face was never masked by the hood she wore. It was easy to see the wrinkles between her brows and her pupils trying to find an object to focus on. Usually, situations like these never occur. It made the Commander wonder what had happened. He knew Leliana to be the type to send one of her messengers to inform him of anything she's ordered, but yet she stands before him.

The matter must be truly pressing to have graced him with her presence.

"Yes, what is it?" He asked while casually resting his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Leliana stepped closer to a safe distance between the two and the soldiers around them. He assisted with the process by bowing his head as she leaned her head in and covered one side of her mouth, "The Herald is missing." She whispered soft enough for him to hear and to avoid other ears.

The Commander's head lifted back up and with an expression of confusion, "What? Are you sure she's not out on business?" He inquired.

She shook her head, "Not a chance. No one saw her leaving. If she were to travel, she would have brought company."

It was time to panic.

"You cannot find her? Even in this hold? It's not that difficult to spot a marked elf."

Leliana looked at him as if she took offense, that the spymaster wouldn't bother to check the Chantry first. It was the first thing she thought of in fact and to have the Commander ask that to her face, wounded her in the wrong place. Leliana clicked her tongue, "And you would not think it was the first place to look? No one has seen her since she returned from the Storm Coast."

"Do you think it is possible that she...was taken?"

Leliana's eyes looked away from him. It was a possibility. There were few times the Herald walked passed the frozen lake area and was gone for an hour or so, but she always came back. Perhaps, she could have gone missing then. Something did not settle well within the man's chest. It may have been a strange connection of anxiety that Leliana was feeling, or it could have been his own. Her eyes darted back to him, "It is impossible...but it is something that we cannot rule out. For now, we should search for her."

The Commander sighed heavily as he glanced back to the recruits, seeing if any had dislocated a shoulder or cut off a hand yet. He turned his attention back to the hooded woman, "I will check with the soldiers at the camp. In the mean time, I will send a few of the others to scout the perimeter and down the road. If she were to leave, she would not have traveled far."

"Good. I have Josephine already searching the Chantry with Vivienne. If we cannot find her in time, we must expand the search. Tell me if you found her, Cullen."

Leliana left to return to the Chantry while the Commander summoned a few of the soldiers to give out the new assignment. It was then Cullen spent the next two hours speaking with the soldiers on guard. He asked of her whereabouts after her return from the Storm Coast. Unfortunately, they couldn't remember seeing the elf around after she walked passed the gate. A while after he interviewed most of the guard, he received a report from one of Leliana's messengers that there was still no sign of her. When he walked back down to the training grounds to the soldiers, he ordered them to check by the mountains and scan the whole area again. Even as he gave out the orders, he couldn't get the idea out of his mind that she could have been taken. It was unlikely she would have since she spent most of her time in Haven. If she wasn't, she would be out on business for the Inquisition with a few of her companions. If there was a kidnap, then there would have been witnesses.

When the soldiers started to march off, he turned his back to them, "Damn it. Where are you, Levellan?"

The sun was slowly sinking behind the mountain tops. It was like a bright fish peeking from the waves of the sea to see what was around it before it would return back to its home. By this time, most of the Inquisition was searching for the Herald. The search had begun early in the afternoon but having it reach this caliber at this hour was beginning to worry many. Everyone was doing their part to look around for her. Blackwall, Sera, and Vivienne joined Leliana and some of her scouts to comb the area around Haven. The Iron Bull and the Chargers were searching the area up in the Frostback Mountains. Varric, Cassandra, and Solas were the only companions to remain back in Haven by harsh orders from the Seeker. After searching by the Apothecary, the trio made their way back to the Chantry.

"Did you check the dungeon?"

Varric raised his brow, "Why would she be in the dungeon?" He questioned.

Cassandra pouted while placing her hands on her hips, standing tall over the dwarf. It was her unconscious way of making her seem dominant. She raised her voice, "I do not know! We will not know if we do not check!"

"Why would we check a place where she won't be in?" Varric said as he stood his ground, not moving a muscle.

Cassandra's brows furrowed and her face grew red, "It maybe the last place she would be, but we must see. We will not know unless we look. Let's go!" She ordered as she pointed to the door to the stairs which lead to the dungeon.

While Cassandra and Varric were going back and forth, Solas was just a spectator watching the two bicker. There was no word he could insert between for there were no spaces he could interject. So he stood by the two, politely hearing to Cassandra's orders as well as Varric's rebuttals. Cassandra dropped her hands to her sides, "Fine. I shall see if she is in the dungeon. Continue to look in the other rooms, I will be back." She said as she stormed off toward the stairs.

Varric let out a sigh of relief once she left, "I tell 'ya, she really likes ordering people around." He muttered to himself. He started to walk down the hall, "I'll check the war room."

Solas was alone. Not even a Chantry sister or brother in sight. They left to help search within Haven. The Chantry was the first place to look and it was apparent she was not there. It was empty now. The only thing that could fill the void was the slight sound of the wind passing through the walls, or the air shift in the room. He considered most of the Chantry ambiance as silence, even at this hour.

The sounds repeated as he began to head towards Josephine's office when he heard a new sound. It was a sudden bump like an object had hit the wall. He turned his head over his shoulder toward the sound. There was no one there, but yet there was a new noise. Solas approached the wall and trailed beside it slowly while he kept his ears out for another sudden sound. He then stopped at the only object leaning against the wall, a table. He kneeled down beside the leg of the wooden furniture, and there she was.

The Herald was curled up, back facing the wall with a layer of what appeared to be bear fur blanketing her body up to her nose. There was a certain serenity to her expression, peaceful even. He knew she was having a good dream.

"For the love of Andraste...she's been here the entire time?" Varric whispered over Solas's shoulder, having returned from his search.

The mage nodded, "I would assume so."

"This is the first time she's slept in days. The kid needs it." Varric said with a soft chuckle. It was true, the Herald had not closed her eyes and relaxed for a while now. She was too busy searching the Hinterlands through its rocky terrain and getting what needs to be done. Albeit, she had been able to accomplish so much within a few days, but she was still flesh and blood. Varric recalled how tired she would look at times. When he suggested they rest at camp she acquiesced to his advice. Although, her idea of resting seemed to be sitting while looking over her journal to her next task. Rest should have been the first priority on that list.

"I am afraid we cannot have her sleeping here. Many would probably want to know that she has been found." Solas whispered before he reached out and placed his hand on where her shoulder was. The mere touch had triggered for her eyes to open in a daze. It was entrancing to watch. Her eyes were like a summer sunset, a deep purple around her iris with a dot of orange surrounding her pupil. Her eyes were truly unique. One would never look out a window to watch the sunset if they could just look into her eyes.

She looked up, seeing the two men staring with a soft bear pelt over her. She was previously captivated within a deep dream of pastel lights and shining red apples when she felt a warm touch through the pelt. She, at first, was curious about why Solas and Varric were looking at her. But she had almost forgotten entirely that she decided to rest here before she headed to the war room. At the time, she was drained and she knew that if she were to attend one of the war council meetings, she would surely sleep through it. She wanted to spare herself the embarrassment and rested underneath one of the few available tables in the Chantry. The Herald uncovered the pelt over her mouth, "Did you have to wake me up?" She asked with her voice soft from her blissful sleep.

"I am afraid we had to. All of Haven has been searching for you. They are concerned that the worst had happened." Solas answered while she detected a hint of concern in his tone.

The Herald frowned, "They have been searching for me? How long have I been asleep?"

"All afternoon."

The Herald's eyes widened, "All afternoon!? And they went to look for me for that long?" She exclaimed as she raised her head from its resting position.

The dwarf saw this as an opportunity to tease the poor elf woman, "Yes indeed. In fact, most of the Inquisition is outside the gates looking through the mountains or circumventing the area. Most of our friends have joined in the search as well. We went through great lengths to find you."

The Herald felt truly guilty. Here was the Inquisition, trekking mountains and searching the roads for her when she was innocently sleeping underneath a table that held a candle. Varric continued, "Last I checked they started to expand their search. Curly just sent out a few platoons to march up and down the roads."

She brought her hands to cover her face, "Oh Creators, this is my fault!" she groaned. She was prepared to pull the bear fur to blanket her entire body and pretend she was no longer there. But she had to fix things, otherwise the guilt would eat her up.

The two men stepped back as she crawled from underneath the table, stretching as she stood up, "I should apologize for this misunderstanding. I did not expect others to go to great lengths to search for me." She commented as she brushed off remnants of bear fur on her shirt.

An apology was in order.

No scout or soldier reported the news the Spymaster or Commander wanted to hear. The scouts nor the soldiers saw no sign of the elf woman. Finally, it came to the final decision to further expand their search, beyond the area. It was just a simple nod to the other before they began to order their troops and spies to go beyond the roads and the marked areas of where the Herald might be.

Then came the lone messenger from Haven.

Cullen was in the middle of giving orders to search through the Fallow Mire when the messenger pushed his way through all the soldiers to reach the Commander. Cullen was frustrated as it was by the lack of progress they were making and a piece of him-the part he would never let anyone know about-was filled with worry. When the messenger approached him, he was quite angered by the interjection. But after an afternoon and a part of the evening, he received good news.

"We found the Herald, sir."

Any sign of anger on his face had deliquesced before the messenger's eyes with a simple blink. Thank the Maker, he thought.

"Is she safe?" He asked. The messenger nodded, "She's safe."

He felt the strangely heavy burden lighten in his chest at those words. Relief had settled. Thankfully she was safe, but the Commander wondered of how they found her. He had to ask, "And where was she?"

The messenger looked away from Cullen and brought his arm to his neck. What was the messenger hiding, he thought. Cullen straightened his back and pressed, "Well?"

The messenger looked back to the tall man and exhaled, "They found her back in Haven...at the Chantry...sleeping underneath a table..."

There were no words. He sent a majority of his troops on the road to look for the Herald when she was at the Chantry tire time? Most importantly, how did Leliana, Left Hand to the Divine and an experienced Spymaster, overlook the Herald underneath a table? If Leliana would have looked harder at the Chantry he would not have had to waste all afternoon sending a search party. He would have to have a few choice words with Leliana. As Cullen stood in silence, he could hear Sera cackle in the background.

After experiencing embarrassment to its highest degree by making a public apology to the Inquisition and the people of Haven in front of the Chantry, everyone was finally able to rest as much as they could that night. Even though the incident was just a mere innocent misunderstanding, Josephine would not let the Herald slide so easily. The elf was sitting in front of the war table, organizing operations and preparing reports to make up for the meeting she missed. It was tedious work, but she did not mind it at all. Everything was going to a good cause. It was worth having to sift through papers and move the tokens on the map for an hour. Rest wasn't something she needed nor was it something she wanted to return to at the moment.

Her dreams were usually erratic and very seldom peaceful. The Fade was a terrible place to get stuck in while dreaming. Typically there would be demons hidden away with the area around her being something familiar but perverted from her memory. Other times it would be somewhere completely new. Ever since she received the mark, the dreams were worse. Her decision to not rest was in partial to her nightmares. The more she dwelled on what was concrete, the less time she would have to spend in dreams of terror. Perhaps it was due to her lack of sleep that caused her dream to be so tranquil and to have remained still in her restful state. These are the things she could not tell everybody of course. She did not want the Inquisition nor her companions to bother with something so trivial as that. It was something she had since as long as she can remember and the years of toil had strengthened her tolerance against it. It's just that if she was able to choose between being in a nightmare or not, she would rather choose to not suffer.

"Are you still here?"

The Herald peeked over her shoulder to see Cullen standing by the door. Her head followed as he walked to the other side of the war table. The Herald nodded, "Josephine did not jest when she said she would put me to work." She said as she moved one of Leliana's tokens on the Fereldan map.

Cullen could not help but let a small smile creep in his lips. She reflected his pleased gesture as she looked down at the bell token in her hand. She fiddled with the object when he spoke, "And Josephine is always true to her word."

She let out a quiet chuckle, one that the Commander could not hear, but he could see in her smile. That smile always seemed to tug at him. Just a simple gesture that everyone did, but hers he had a weakness for. Her lips were small, and any movement made was little, yet one could see hers were genuine. When she smiled, her lips shielded her gums and her teeth were the focal point. The corners were asymmetrical, making her smile crooked. Yet it was still lovely and warm.

Levellan was a pretty face to some, a common feature many included when discussing the Herald. It was somewhere along the lines of, 'The Herald of Andraste is that heretic, right? I heard she was an elf, but a pretty one'. It was the Maker's blessing that he wasn't acting like a dumb fool in front of her. Had they had met almost a decade earlier, she would have taken him as a fool for sure. When they first met he maintained his composure around her like a well-built fortress. But he could not forget the time she first smiled, just at him. He remembered that moment when it felt like someone knocked at his walls and he almost caved in. He lost his words after that, and thankfully a scout saved his hide before he had to suffer an awkward silence.

He watched as the Herald placed down the token on the Fereldan map, "At least it is comforting knowing that if I do end up getting lost or taken, I have a whole force that would look for me as well as advisers who can manage them."

"We are glad to have found you when we did. Otherwise, we would have been tearing Fereldan apart to find you." he responded while looking down at the map.

He snuck a quick glance at her and saw that smile again. He was unsure of what he felt. This feeling was similar to the mage back in the Lake Calenhald Circle. Although he had matured since then and was capable of handling these sort of affairs, he still felt like he couldn't keep it together. He would get distracted by her during the war council meetings, most of the time Leliana caught him in the act. He felt he anticipated her visits to the training grounds too often, often enough where if she didn't show he would be gravely disappointed. Most of all, his mind would wander to the common question: does she feel the same way? To that, Cullen was unsure. It was difficult to see in her actions. He could tell she enjoyed his company and their conversations. She was a very curious one, always asking questions about templar life, Kirkwall or his own life. He appreciated discussing these things as well, but he wasn't the only one she talked to. She spoke with everyone, perhaps spent equal time with each of her companions. But he saw her the most with that mage elf, Solas. He could see why, they had much in common, besides the fact that they were elves. He would also occasionally see her by the armory with that Gray Warden. He was curious about their conversations, but never brought a word of his intrigue to her. It was rude and he didn't want to give her the wrong idea.

He turned away, there was no way he could be alone with her like this. He was afraid if he spoke another word he would begin to stutter. Cullen made his way to the door, "Take care of yourself Levellan, good night." He said as he opened the door.

The Herald turned from her chair, "There's no need for formalities, Cullen. You can call me Saskia."

He didn't pass the doorway. He turned back to her, staring at her captivating eyes that ensnared anyone that beheld its appearance. "You are one of the few who stills call me Levellan. Josephine and Leliana call me by my name. Why is it that you do not?" She asked, tilting her head.

It was well-organized formalities really. He referred to her as the Herald when he spoke to his forces or guests. When they all stood at the war table, he called her Levellan while Josephine and Leliana used her given name freely. At first she thought it was something Cullen just did, but he called the other two advisers by their first names, why not her?

He cleared his throat, "I'm sorry. I call my soldiers by their surnames. I...I must be accustomed to it."

She rested her arms on the top of the chair and laid her chin on her hands, smiling. He knew the formalities were to be professional. But where she was raised, titles like Herald and Levellan were perhaps foreign.

"Very well, Commander." She commented with a mocking grin, "Good night."

The last thing she heard before he closed the door behind him was a soft chuckle that eased her anxiety. She turned back to the war table and filed out the parchments.