I got the idea for this story after learning that there were people who wished they could romance Cole. Cole! Sweet, innocent, terribly efficient at killing Cole. I admit, I recoiled from the idea.

Oh, ho, but did that get the wheels spinning! What kind of person would it take to nudge a (human path) Cole toward romantic love? She or he would have to be a pretty interesting sort, mentally. Certainly someone with a similar veneer of innocence, someone who would relish Cole's mind-reading, someone for whom helping is equally important. Then a quote from the Inquisitor came to me, one that occurs when she speaks to Dorian: "Are there rebel archivists?"

Yes, there are, Inquisitor. And I'm going to tell the story of one.

UPDATE AND SPOILER ALERT: I wrote this story before the Trespasser DLC, and I feel a bit vindicated about Cole's ability to find a girlfriend if he goes human. I knew Patrick Weekes wouldn't let me down! Let's just say that in the universe of the official game, Sinead never made it to Skyhold, for any of a number of reasons presented in her life. Meanwhile, in the universe of this fanfic, Sinead is safe and sound (relatively) and making waves as much as any head archivist makes waves ;)

"Are you calm?"

Sinead took a breath and nodded, steadying herself against a wind-worn statue of blessed Andraste. Unlike the statue she passed every day on the forest path to the stream when she was sent to fetch water, it was bright green and shimmered with its own light. She closed her eyes. The shifting landscape and color contrasts always shocked her system when she entered the Fade – like being thrown from a spinning swing. She took another breath, and willed her mind to let go of all worry and doubt and fear, and the landscape slowly righted itself, becoming less disorienting.

Eluard smiled. "You're getting faster at the transition. Have you been practicing?"

"The lucid dreaming." Sinead nodded and pushed off of the statue. "I'm not very good, though. Usually when I realize I'm asleep, I want to wake up right away. I don't think I'm a dreamer like you, master Eluard."

"Well, it is a rare gift. But no matter. Come."

He took her hand and led her through a small glade of golden grass that moved as if rustled by wind, though the air was still. Giant conifers ringed the glade, blotting out the swirling, ever-changing sky. They towered over her like the trees of her forest, yet somehow they were more. She wondered if they were a dream of trees, or a reflection of the trees' dreams. A gentle hum filled the air, a melody that seemed slowed down until each note sang for hours.

"What are the rules of the Fade, child?" Eluard asked as he stopped at the center of the glade and pulled her to sitting beside him.

Sinead stifled her wonder as her mind snapped to attention. "The Fade reflects us. Be not a foul reflection. The Fade is dreams. Let not the nightmares rule you. Beware of demons. Let not they conquer your resolve. Listen to the spirits, for they have stories to tell."

"Splendid." Eluard beamed at her. "You have mastered your composer while in the Fade these last few visits. Look around you, child. Is it not different from your first time?"

Sinead smiled at the grove, the grass, the trees. "It's beautiful. There's no darkness. Nothing is twisting out of sorts."

"Because you don't expect it to twist out of sorts. You are letting the Fade be as it is, rather than what you fear it may be." Eluard tapped his temple, and then his chest. "Strength of mind. Strength of heart. What is the master rule?"

"There is no bit of magic that you should fear, so long as you know the rules and act without malice," she chanted. "Is the Fade like this everywhere? Or is it only like this in the Brecilian Forest?"

Eluard chuckled. "A good question! What do you think?"

"If it reflects reality, then it looks different." She ran her hand over the silky grass. "I wonder what the sea looks like in the Fade. Can we go there someday?"

"Goodness! So soon after finally knowing the Fade as it should be, and now you're planning trips to the sea! One step at a time, child." He placed a finger to his lips.

A hush fell over the glade as the two mages, master and apprentice, fell silent. The hum went up a note, and as it did the trees shook like birds fluffing up as they preen, as if excited by the change. It seemed that time stood still, which may have been true – the Fade was never very good at keeping regular time. Then Sinead felt a change ripple over her, like a stone dropped in a stagnant pool.

A female form emerged from the forest, translucent silver with long, glittering hair draped over her like a cloak. She drifted above the grass, every now and then taking a step as if remembering that walking was the proper way to get around. She circled the glade, and where she passed, thin tendrils grew up from the ground and blossomed into dark blue irises. She didn't acknowledge the mages at first, caught up in her own meditation. Sinead glanced at Eluard, opening her mouth to speak, but he shook his head and winked.

Finally the spirit stopped in front of them, hovering a few feet away. She smiled. "You have finally brought her to me, Eluard," she said, her voice resonating in many harmonies.

"I had to be sure she was ready, my friend." Eluard placed a hand on Sinead's shoulder. "Sinead, this is Peace, my oldest and very best spirit friend."

"Well met, young one." Peace reached out her hand, and Sinead took it. She was surprised to find it soft and warm. "I have felt you through the veil. Healing the little squeaking creatures when they find trouble."

"The nugs." A blush rose up Sinead's neck and she dropped Peace's hand. "I'm sorry, Master Eluard, I know I'm not supposed to without you unless it's an emergency –"

Eluard cut her off with a laugh. "Peace, you've found her out!"

"I only meant to thank her." Peace's coloring dulled to a light gray. "Their pain is troublesome to me when they take too long to die. It echoes in my glade until they are gone."

"Worry not. Only a small reprimand is necessary. Isn't that right, Sinead?"

Sinead nodded, trying to calm her embarrassment.

Peace's coloring returned to a bright silver. "Then it is good that you brought her to me. I hoped to meet her before I take my leave, and waited perhaps longer than I should to depart. Now I am free to go."

"Go?" Eluard frowned and stood. "What do you mean go?"

"The dark song is growing louder." Peace gave him a bemused look. "Surely you hear it? I must go before it overtakes the forest, else it will be quite painful."

"I cannot hear all that you hear, remember." Eluard glanced at Sinead and lowered his voice. "Tell me of this dark song."

"Oh, must I?" Peace ran her thin fingers through her hair. "It's a troublesome thing. It stings the thoughts."

Eluard hesitated. "I do not wish to bring you pain, my friend. Be still."

Peace smiled and placed a hand on his cheek. "Then I shall go without worry. Be safe, Eluard. Do not let the dark song swallow you." She drifted over to Sinead and pulled her up to her feet, then kissed her forehead. "Young one, I give you my blessing. Find peace wherever you may be."

There was a ripple, and Peace was gone. The brilliant colors of the glade dimmed into the washed out hues of a watercolor.

Eluard was silent for a moment. "That. Was not how I expected this meeting to go," he said finally.

Sinead plucked an iris and fingered its slowly fading petals. "What did she mean by 'the dark song'?"

"A good question."

Eluard took her hand. There was a flash of bright light. The sounds of the twilight forest filled Sinead's ears, the insects singing a symphony on the wind. She could feel the dewy grass beneath her, soaking her blouse and seeping through her trousers. She opened her eyes and yawned, pulling small twigs from her black braids. "The light is nearly gone. Mother will be worried." She smiled at Eluard. "Your friend was lovely. Are there other spirits like that in the Fade?"

Eluard did not answer. He stared at his wooden staff, turning it in his hands.

"Master Eluard? Are you alright?"

"Yes." Eluard smiled, stood and brushed the dirt from his brown robes. "Come now, child. Your mother is sure to split me in two if we don't hurry you back home."

Sinead's mother Glidda greeted apprentice and master at the door of her hut with a sound telling off before ushering them in for a dinner of smashed roots and rabbit. As they ate, the hearthfire casting long shadows on the threesome, Sinead talked excitedly about the Fade.

"Every time I go, it's more and more beautiful," she said, scooping a second helping of roots onto Eluard's plate. "It's better than the best dream, mama. All color and humming and peace."

"That's good, love." Glidda frowned. "I suppose. Quite different from what the Chantry taught us, isn't it? Where are the demons?"

"Oh, mama. That's all you ever ask about." Sinead rolled her eyes.

"And she's right to ask, quite right. But worry not, madam, she was perfectly safe with me." Eluard patted Glidda's hand. "This meal is excellent, by the way."

"Well. So long as you are safe." Glidda rose and began clearing the dishes. Sinead rose with her. "No, sit my girl and rest. The bigger lessons always drain you. Don't want you falling asleep in the suds."

Eluard waved a hand toward the loft where Sinead and her mother slept. "Go and get the word game, and we can play a round."

Sinead nodded and scurried up the ladder.

"Glidda, how quickly can you prepare to run?" Eluard said placidly, leaning back in his chair.

Glidda looked up from the dishes sharply. "What do you mean, old man?"

"I've run before, you know. With naught but a loaf of bread, my staff, and the clothes on my back. I know I can be away from this place quickly if need be. But you." He ran a hand over the rough tabletop. "You did not so much run as you slowly disappeared into the woods once Sinead began to show her abilities. Do you know what you'd need to flee?"

Glidda paled and sat down hard. "The Templars know of us," she whispered.

"Not at all," Eluard said stoutly. "Nothing like that. But I've had some news that I must look into. The type of news where one might have to run as fast as one can, if it is dire enough."

Glidda glanced up at the loft, and lowered her voice. "I know enough to pack food and stockings. I can prepare a couple of packs tonight. Perhaps I can go into the village tomorrow, and –"

"The village?" Sinead scrambled quickly down the ladder. "May I come?"

Glidda's lips thinned. "We've talked about this."

"But I haven't seen it in forever, and I'm fourteen now this past Bloomingtide, and I'm not a little child anymore! I wouldn't burn anyone or…or make things float, or anything!"

Eluard patted the table. "Set up the board, Sinead, and leave your mother be."

"But-"

"Now, please." Eluard said sternly.

Sinead sighed deeply, the sigh of a young adolescent conceding to adults who cannot begin to understand her pain. She opened the checkered game board and pulled a handful of wooden letter tiles from a leather bag. Glidda flashed Eluard a grateful look and turned to the dishes as master and apprentice began building words on the board.

As always, Eluard led the game, but Sinead did not mind. She reveled in the words Eluard used that she did not know, writing them down with their definition in a small, leather-bound diary with a piece of lead and repeating them to herself as the game progressed. Before long, the board began to swim in front of her and the letters jumbled up in her head. She yawned and propped her head on her arm.

"I believe that is my sign to leave," Eluard said, standing and taking up his staff. "Be well, Sinead. Glidda."

Sinead nodded and slowly scooped the wooden letter tiles back into their bag.

Glidda rubbed her back. "Go on up to bed, my girl. Let me do that."

Sinead did not argue. She pulled herself up the ladder, limbs heavy with exhaustion as the day's casting finally made itself known. She fell into her bedroll, barely conscious enough to kick off her boots before sleep took her. As she drifted off, she could hear her mother below, singing her favorite lullaby.

Lullaby of the Fade

Sleep my love, lay down my love

And rest your weary head.

The day was long but it has gone

And now it's time to bed.

Golden tales await for you

To visit in the Fade.

Close your heavy eyes my dear

And go where dreams are made

Soft my heart, be still my dear

Think not of somber things

Calm your mind and be soothed by

The peace that slumber brings

I will hold your hand my love

As your breathing slows

So journey on and safe you'll be

Wherever you may go.