The Dragon Age Livejournal community has started up it's prompt fest again, so inspiration has struck!

This story is going off a little pet theory I have about the Inquisitor. I kind of hope it's not true, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Needless to say, spoilers!

Prompt: Make me your memory


Elanor stared at the family tree. The House of Trevelyan had a long and noble history. She had two parents, still living, and two brothers and a sister.

She wished she could remember them.

The mark on her hand pulsed and she flexed her fingers, instinctively repressing the surge of power that sang within her. Was this how mages felt? Constantly assaulted by urges and abilities that threatened to break free?

Vivienne hadn't been much help. Despite her background as First Enchanter, Elanor's strange ability was beyond anything she'd ever heard about. Solas alone seemed unperturbed by it. He was intrigued enough to do what research he could. It was this research in a musty library that he'd found the family tree., completely by accident

Elanor traced the spidery lines of the parchment again. down to her name: Elanor.

How had she known her name when she woke up from the cataclysm that tore the Veil? It was the only thing she remembered; the only piece of herself that she still had.

"You look troubled," said a voice above her. Elanor looked up to see Cullen settle into a chair across from her camp table. She smiled, pleased to see him. Cullen alone out of her companions didn't treat her like some sort of strange creature of the Fade. The others respected her, of course, and some even liked her, but Cullen was... well, he seemed to understand that Fade mark or no, she still buckled her boots just like everyone else.

"Just looking at the family tree again," she admitted, putting the parchment down. "I should stop. With all the chaos going on, worrying about my lost memories should be the last thing on my mind."

Cullen shrugged. "Our past is part of who we are. It's natural that you'd want to reclaim it."

Elanor's eyes fell again to the parchment. "I just wish I had something more to go on." She pointed at a smudged line. "See this here? I might have an aunt, but as far as my memories are concerned, I have no one. Nothing." She swallowed. "I'm a complete non entity with nothing to anchor to."

Cullen's hand slid across the table and covered her own. "Elanor."

She looked up at the use of her given name and sucked in a breath, realizing how close they were sitting.

"I... I have hesitated to speak," he said, fumbling a bit over his words, "but I cannot... even in my stupidity I cannot have been mistaken in your... your affection, can I?"

"Cullen..." she whispered, eyes wide. He squeezed her hand, smiling, his expression tender.

"Elanor... make me your anchor; your memory. When you feel yourself falling into the void of your past, I would like it if you would think of me instead. I cannot be your past, perhaps. But I would like to be... your future." His cheeks were stained pink and he swallowed hard. "I do not speak out of turn, I hope?" His eyes searched hers.

Elanor brought up her hand that was holding his, and gently kissed his sword-calloused fingers. He made a strangled sound in his throat.

"No," she said with a slow smile. "You do not."