Chapter 2: Chants and Comfort

She made him uncomfortable. But it was an odd sort of discomfort that he couldn't quite place. At first he thought it was the mark pulsing eerily green on her hand. He still had enough lyrium in his blood to feel that the magic of it was not natural. He couldn't help but think, however, that it wasn't only the mark.

Something about her sang. The song agitated his senses. He was agitated enough as it was. It was quiet, barely heard, more felt, and smelled and tasted in the air around her. It was softly lilting with a drumbeat underneath and he felt the thump of it in his chest. Like calm water with wild currents below the surface. It made his skin itch trying to process all the sensations she stirred in him and the spinning feeling in his head she always left him with did nothing but worsen his headaches.

She made him uncomfortable. That magic carved into her hand and its connection to the breach in the sky made him...uncomfortable. But it was not for him to question the Maker's will. For some reason she had been chosen by divine providence to help their cause; perhaps the only one who could help their cause. She wasn't put before him as a personal trial, despite how she made him feel.

She was lingering again. The 'Herald of Andraste'. Lady Trevelyan. Evelyn. He thought he had heard Varric call her 'Kitten'. Curious like a cat the dwarf had said. Cullen thought to say that curiosity killed the cat but he stopped himself, not wanting to seem cynical. He was trying to turn over a new leaf, after all, start a new life. But it was difficult with so much of the past still hanging on.

He supposed the nickname fit. The girl did seem to feel the need to speak with everyone about absolutely anything and everything. The only time she wasn't willing to engage in a topic of conversation was when the topic was her. She would suddenly grow quiet and give only short modest replies. That bothered him too, especially since the first time she had approached him to talk, she managed to draw out of him more inane facts about himself and the Templar Order than he'd told anyone, possibly ever.

He cringed when he remembered how she maneuvered him into commenting on the state of his vows, or lack thereof, on chastity. He'd wanted to crawl into a hole after that conversation. Or hit her. But again, he was trying to make a new start. Violence against Andraste's Chosen would hardly be putting his best foot forward.

Why she needed to hear these things from him he had no idea. She had said her late brother was a Templar and from what he'd heard, half the Templars in Ostwick were her relations in one form or another. He didn't need these distractions. Least of all from someone who made him uncomfortable. He didn't want that mark anywhere near him, if that was indeed what made her feel so strange. He'd had enough magic near him to last a lifetime.

But you seem to keep forgetting, this is your new life...

He brought his attention back to her lingering. She was sitting on the far wall, watching his recruits train. If she wasn't asking questions, she was watching something. Studying something. Her curious eyes bright and receptive. As he watched her watch his soldiers wield their weapons, it occurred to him he hadn't actually seen her fight yet. Cassandra claimed she was competent, but he supposed as the Commander of these forces he owed it to his men to assure that her skills were adequate if she was going to be fighting beside them. An army was only as good as its weakest link. He couldn't allow her to be that weak link.

Cullen rubbed at the throbbing in his temples and then at the knots in the back of his neck. Trying to ignore the strange feeling of her aura, he approached her.

"Lady Trevelyan." He called out as amicably as he could manage.

She startled upon seeing him. She hopped down from the wall and started fidgeting with her hands, hiding the marked one behind her back.

He couldn't help but think maybe it made her feel just as strange as it made him feel. He suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for his aversion to her. She was the poor soul who had been marked against her will with magic. And he knew something of being subjected to magic against one's will.

He took a deep breath. Even with the space and cold air between them he almost felt like he was inhaling some of her essence. It made him feel...He didn't know what it made him feel. It had been so long since he'd felt normal, if he even remembered what that felt like anymore. Her, her mark, this place, their situation, the tear in the Veil, the lyrium left in him and the lyrium he refused to take but still craved, all if it was abnormal. But it wasn't her fault. It wasn't his fault. It just was.

He would pray for strength as always and he would move forward. He resolved to try and be more accepting of her as he did so. There were a great many things he needed to work on accepting, best start small. So he spoke to her.

"Does the mark trouble you?" Why would he ask her that? He felt his own eyes grow wide with embarrassment at the inappropriate question brought on by having it too much on his mind. He was here to test her combat skills, not venture into the esoteric.

She pulled her hand further behind her back. "It's fine, Commander. I...It's...it just is." She said softly. He couldn't help but smile a little at his own thoughts mirrored in her statement. "Thank you for asking." She added politely. Good breeding and all, he assumed. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing your drills. I'll take my leave."

She moved to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and held her in place. He ignored the tingle in his fingertips at the touch even through the thick leather of his gloves. He dropped his hand from her and flexed the sensation out of his skin, clasping his hands behind his back and clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Please, stay. I've been meaning to ask you about any training you may have had in the past. Seeker Pentaghast said you have some skill with daggers. You'll need it in the days to come. If I can offer any assistance in that regard so that you feel more comfortable engaging in combat, I would be happy to help." Well, not happy, exactly. He wasn't sure he knew what that was anymore either. He would just be helping, because that was his duty.

"Thank you again, Commander, I would greatly appreciate it. My brother taught me to defend myself and I trained with him quite often." Cullen could hear the sadness of loss in her voice. He wanted to sympathize, but he was numb to loss by now. She would overcome it because she had to and be stronger for it. Sympathy wouldn't change that. "If I could train with the soldiers when I'm able I'm sure it would help me to better serve."

She seemed sincere in her desire to serve the greater good. She was still young. That would change. Especially if Cassandra and Leliana succeeded in throwing her at the Breach like a sacrificial lamb.

Stop being so cynical, he chastised himself. New life. New start. New Beginning, he chanted inside his head.

"Of course, Herald." He said with as much positive energy as he could gather. "No time like the present. Perhaps you could show me some of what you've been taught?"

"Could you please call me Evelyn, Commander?" She was looking down and speaking to the dirt, so he wasn't sure he'd heard her.

"Excuse me, My Lady?"

"It's strange claiming a title I haven't earned. I'd prefer to be called by my name. It's better to have something to aspire to then to be given something you don't quite know what to do with, don't you agree?"

What an odd statement. Cullen couldn't say if he agreed or not. He had needed to earn everything he'd ever had. He wouldn't know much about the opposite. If she had a deeper meaning, his head was hurting too much to notice it. "I...uh...I'll try to remember, My Lady."

xxxx

He made her feel comfortable. Maybe it was just the comfort of the familiar. He felt like a Templar. She could hear the singing in his blood. It was a very secure feeling. She knew he could protect her if it came to it. Or protect others from her if it came to that. And he was easy to talk to. There was something about him that tried very hard. Tried hard to answer her questions. Tried hard to fulfill his duties. Tried hard to seem normal. She could sympathize with that.

She wondered what it was that he was hiding. Or perhaps running from. They were the same things in the end. She knew enough of both to see it in others. She knew enough for a lifetime.

Not for the first time since waking up in Haven, after her disclosure to Solas, her mind wandered to thoughts of making this a new life for herself, a new start, where she could stop running and hiding.

But change was hard when you've only ever known one way to exist and known the many good reasons why things were the way they were.

So maybe not. At least for now.

That being said, she would have to start keeping herself in check. It would be too easy to cling to him. Too safe. The Maker had seen fit to put her on this path, for better or worse. It wouldn't do to cling to the safety of others when it was clear she would have to learn to manage on her own and fulfill whatever tasks were put before her.

She would focus and she would serve.

"How would you like to begin, Commander?"

xxxx

"Allow me to spar with the Herald, Commander." Sister Leliana's voice coming up behind him startled him enough to reach for his sword. He stopped himself before he drew it free. He hated how she could just appear without warning. His fist tightened around the hilt of his blade.

New life. Things are different. There's no need to react like this.

He relaxed his hand. She would hardly be an effective Spymaster if she was obvious. And he would hardly be an effective general if he was passive. All things equal. No harm done.

She continued talking. "You'll better be able to assess areas in need of improvement if you can observe her in action."

"Thank you for your assistance." Cullen replied curtly and he settled in to watch as the two women armed themselves with practice weapons. They took up a position in front of him and waited for him to give the signal.

He paused a moment to study Trevelyan's stance, but his eyes were drawn to her lips. She seemed to be mouthing words under her breath. He couldn't make it out, and he wasn't there to be watching her lips. But he licked his own, before saying,

"Begin."

The two women circled each other warily, then Leliana started to test their Herald. The girl had good form, Cullen had to admit. Her brother did well in teaching her and it was obvious she had been instructed by a Templar. He mused he wouldn't mind having a few more Trevelyans to add to his ranks. He wondered if any of the Templars in her family could be persuaded to join their cause. He knew Josephine already asked her to write to her family for support in their diplomatic endeavors. Perhaps he could ask after some military support.

Most of Kirkwall's garrison had followed him, jaded lot that they were. There were a few he had had to refuse. In the end they had joined with him against Meredith, but he knew dangerous men when he saw them.

The Inquisition was committed to a new world and the prejudices of the past could not be tolerated. They had mages with them now. Those desirous of peace were welcome, no matter who they were before, but those still trapped in the past would only cause discord. Change was needed. Maker knew the way it had been was a failure in more ways than one.

Cullen was quickly satisfied that he wouldn't have to do much to make sure their de facto figurehead could keep herself alive and not put others at risk. His critical gaze eased as the women continued to fight.

Cassandra came up beside him. He had heard her measured and armored footfalls half a dozen paces before she reached him. They nodded silently to each other.

"Are you satisfied with her?" The Seeker eventually asked.

"No. But she's a perfectly competent fighter."

Cassandra turned on him with a questioning look. "Is there something you object to regarding the Herald, Commander?"

Shit. Had he said that out loud? "I...uh...no, I didn't mean..." He stammered out a gruff retraction. "...there's nothing wrong with her."

Everything is wrong with her. I feel wrong when I look at her. Fuck, when didn't he feel wrong? It has nothing to do with her. He silenced his errant thoughts quickly and placed his attention back on her movements as she continued to dance with Leliana.

The Herald was lithe, fluid, quick and satisfying when she landed a blow. If he was honest with himself, now that he studied her as a physical object only and ignored the sensation of her, she was actually quite lovely. If he continued to be honest with himself, she had the looks he favored in a woman.

He almost allowed himself a moment to enjoy her when the unfortunate chastity conversation came back to mind. Shifting his weight uncomfortably he peeled his eyes from her body but was once again drawn to her lips. She was definitely saying something as she fought.

Cullen leaned forward, straining his ears. She was mumbling to herself. Suddenly, he realized he knew the words. But why would she be...? He turned to Cassandra. "Is she reciting...?" He started.

"The Chant of Light, yes." The Seeker finished his observation.

"Why?" He said.

Cassandra gave him an impatient look. "Ask her." She said sternly before she walked away.

He watched her go, annoyed at the challenge. Fine. He would.

xxxx

The Commander hadn't interrupted their sparring with any angry corrections or even any small suggestions, so she assumed she had done at least passably well. It wasn't lost on her that all three of them were present. Of course they would need to continue to learn as much about her as they could. They had no reason to trust her fully yet.

They have good reason to never trust you.

She jumped aside just before Leliana swung at her midsection, avoiding the blow. Evelyn shook the truth from her head and focused back on the Chant.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond..."

The Commander called a stop to their session. Leliana nodded at her, not even seeming out of breath, smiled and walked away. Cassandra had already left Cullen's side. Evelyn huffed the cold air in and out, her chest heaving with the effort. She closed her mouth and tried to appear not quite so winded as the Commander approached her, a quizzical look on his face.

"Is there a point of improvement I should work on, Commander?" She asked him, attempting to not sound breathless.

"Were you reciting the Chant as you sparred?"

Evelyn was a little taken aback and quite a bit embarrassed. She hadn't thought he would be watching closely enough to notice. She should have assumed, however, that nothing would slip past his keen and critical eye. "Yes." She admitted. She hesitated to continue but she supposed there was nothing too revealing about the practice if she worded it just so. "It helps me to focus and better control my emotions. Chaos in the mind breeds chaos on the battlefield."

And demons are drawn to chaos...

The Commander stared at her for a moment and she worried she'd said the wrong thing. Nothing good ever comes from talking too much about yourself. But he did ask, and she wanted to be truthful. Or at least as truthful as she could be. At least with him. He was the only one in this new life of hers that felt comfortable.

xxxx

Cullen just looked down at her, pondering her reply to his question. He felt his brows draw together and his mouth purse into a pensive frown. He hadn't expected such an insightful answer. It made him uncomfortable that she could so easily sway his opinion of her from guarded to intrigued. Especially when he still felt her song inside him.

More melodic now though, he thought, less dissonant.

They just stood staring at each other stupidly until he heard someone calling to him. He turned to see one of Leliana's people running towards them.

"Commander," The man said with urgency. "A group is approaching Haven fast. On horseback, armed and armored."

Cullen gripped his sword as his heartbeat quickened. He was already on the move, ready to mobilize his officers at least. The scout followed close behind. Behind him, he noticed the Herald followed, eyes wide, ears open.

"Under what banner?" Cullen demanded.

The man replied with a glance back at the Herald. "Trevelyan."