"You're late," said Ellana.

She smiled at him across the table, and he shrugged. "I only knew to be here five minutes ago. Of all of us, only Leliana can see the future before it happens," he said.

Josephine and Leliana chuckled, but Ellana gave him a sharp look. "Did you eat breakfast?" she asked.

Cullen thought back to his one bite of the apple that still rested on his desk. "Yes," he said with as much confidence as he could muster. He sat down and tried not to blush under her skeptical stare. When she tossed a roll to him from her own half-finished meal, he accepted the silent command.

The Inquisitor leaned back with a satisfied look on her thin, elven face. "Let's begin, then."

Leliana opened with her usual intelligence updates. Tevinter had surrendered their war in all but name, but getting reliable information from the Imperium was proving challenging even for her. Most other countries were in hand, though she indicated that the Qunari were starting to rumble again. Iron Bull's presence, a Tal-Vashoth highly placed in the Inquisition's ranks, mostly precluded even opening negotiations with them, but Josephine promised to try another approach, one she claimed to have been working on for some time. She didn't elaborate, and Cullen was glad. He appreciated her skill more than he could say, but the intricacies of what she did were enough to make his head spin even on the finest day.

Which this had not been, by any measure.

When Leliana subsided without mentioning the Arbor Wilds, Cullen raised his eyebrows. "Nightingale, I received a report of alarming bandit activity in the Wilds. Near the Elvhen ruins. The report was from your people," he said. "Did you not know? I thought it was simply a courtesy notification of something you were already aware of."

She didn't respond, and he shook his head. Of course she knew. "Or was it desperation after their earlier reports fell on deaf ears?" he asked.

The bard's face remained placid, but Ellana was almost as bad at Wicked Grace as he was. She winced and said, "You weren't supposed to know about that."

"I am your Commander. I'm supposed to know about everything. And what could possibly be confidential about bandits?" he asked. "They're far from the first, though their location indicates a level of organization that's unusual." The Wilds were hostile even to trained and well-armed men, let alone desperate criminals.

Ellana looked helplessly at Leliana, who sighed. "They're not bandits, Commander. Solas is leading the guardians we encountered in Mythal's temple on a mission. Banditry is their cover, even from our own people. More than that I will not say," said the Orlesian. She rolled her eyes at his glare. "They've hurt no one."

"Your people wouldn't be so alarmed if no one had been hurt," he pointed out.

"They've hurt no one in a permanent way," said Leliana.

He looked back and forth between the Inquisitor and her spymaster, who were waiting for his reaction with surprising nervousness. Josephine, he noticed, had said nothing at all. Which was why he wasn't the diplomat.

Still, he had to put his faith somewhere. "I trust you," he said slowly. "I know you wouldn't have sent Solas away if it weren't important." Ellana and Solas were more than in love. They were so close as to be indistinguishable at times. Even Cassandra's thoughts were often hidden to him. He wondered how they did it. "But can anything be important enough to injure our own? Or innocents?"

Ellana twisted her hands together so cruelly that he bit his lip in sympathy. Elves were generally lithe, but she was one of the most slender of their kind he'd ever met. Not only that, she barely hit his chest, and when she was surrounded by guards she practically disappeared into them. Back when he'd imagined himself in the throes of love with her, he'd been a little afraid of her frailty in the face of his strength, for all of the ferocity of her magic. And the anchor she carried, the power that none of them understood, seemed to drain her a little more every day, make her a little smaller even while her footprint grew large enough to cover all of Thedas.

He waited in silence, and eventually the Inquisitor looked at him. "It is, Commander. Trust that I do not do this lightly," she said. She turned to Leliana with a storm on her face. "But don't hide the consequences of my choices from me, Nightingale."

"I didn't believe you had the heart to hear it and continue to choose the right path," said Leliana. "I wished to spare you pain."

Ellana smiled sadly. "I'm the Inquisitor. I don't have the luxury of avoiding the pain I cause," she said. Her hand flashed, once, and she squeezed her fist against it. She turned back to Cullen. "If it eases your concerns, Solas tells me they've exhausted their search of the Arbor Wilds and will move on to other parts of Thedas. Their banditry has already ended."

He didn't feel eased at all. His fingers gripped the edge of the table, almost as though he were trying to pull himself through it to comfort her. Ellana may or may not be a holy woman, but she was a friend. "You'll tell me when I can help," he said. It was an order.

She knew it. "Yes."

He nodded. He would obey her. And trust her. He'd made the choice long ago, and she'd rewarded it at every step.

When he settled back in his chair again, Josephine leaned forward. "Speaking of other parts of Thedas, I have mapped out a proposal for our next diplomatic steps in the world. With your permission, I will share it now," she said.

Cullen chuckled at the formality, but the other women nodded with all the respect he showed a new military campaign. He shot the Antivan an apologetic look. She accepted it with a regal nod. "Our question, for the last few months, has been: What is our place in this new world? Previously, this was abundantly clear. A hole in the sky. A frightened populace. A war between Templars and mages. Incursions by rogue elements in Tevinter and Orlais. Unrest and chaos," she said. "We were the stability that the nations could not bring to their people, and we were welcomed with cautious joy as we proved our good intentions.

"But now the world is re-finding its peace. There is new order, and the nations are able to maintain it with limited support. They begin to look at us more warily. We have influence which we have yet to spend. We have power, both in arms and in magic, that is leashed. But for how long? We all know that armies without objectives tend to create their own." She said the last with a look at him, and he shrugged agreement.

"Theoretically we are an arm of the Chantry," she continued. "The Orlesian Chantry, I should say. As a religious order, we would be tolerated, though perhaps not as neatly as we might have been under Divine Justinia. Divine Victoria, as a mage and a traditionalist, has less… popular support."

Leliana snorted a little, and Josephine glared at her. "However, this is not theory. This is reality, and in reality we have a Dalish Inquisitor and the Chantry is ours to command. No divine oversight. Circles of mages and garrisons of Templars. The fealty of the remaining, formerly apolitical, Wardens. Thousands of citizens. The power of a nation, with no obligation to anyone but ourselves," said the diplomat. "Quite frankly, while the nations of Thedas are only wary now, they will soon be terrified."

Cullen blanched. He knew all too well what happened to the world when the powerful found terror where no threat existed. "So what do we do? Disband like the last Inquisition?" he asked.

"No," answered Josephine. "Not only because that would only cause a new chaos, but I truly believe the people in this room are the right ones to guide the world into something that can last." Her expression softened as she looked at Leliana. "A new age."

Ellana spoke quietly from her seat. "Then what do you propose, Lady Montilyet?"

"They are wary because we are separate from them. We will soothe this by joining them to us," she said.

"With treaties? Like the Grey Wardens hold?" asked Cullen.

"Nothing so tenuous. We will join them to us permanently, by showing that they are already here," she said. He knew his confusion showed on his face, and she smiled. "Look at us, Commander. Look at the members of the inner circle. We already hold the strength we need. We must only use it."

She picked up a piece of paper in front of her and read quickly. "Ferelden. King Alistair and Queen Elissa are already closely allied with us, through both yourself and Leliana. You are a champion of the common people, as well as a respected Templar throughout Thedas. His Highness also approves of our mercy to the Grey Wardens. There will be no trouble there, so long as we maintain their rule. Orlais. Empress Celene is an avowed supporter, and through Leliana's connections to the bards, we can ensure it remains that way. The Game will work in our favor. Divine Victoria will also keep to our cause.

"Antiva. There, I may be of some assistance, and my sister has been elevated by association - most willingly, I might add. I am already in negotiations for marriages for both of us," said Josephine. She didn't bat an eyelash, and Cullen gaped at her. How far was she willing to go for this Inquisition?

Far enough, it seemed. She flashed him a smile and added, "Don't worry. I will have complete control over my choice. I would rather wed for the good of my family and this cause than anything so uncertain as a love match. And in Antiva, the rules of the marriage bed are somewhat… flexible, provided precautions are taken." Josephine looked perfectly at peace, but Cullen couldn't understand how.

"Some of Leliana's old friends will gain the support of the less reputable members of Antivan society," she continued. The Crows, he heard in the spaces between the words. "Rivain is too distant, and too Qunari, for us to gain now, but the Anderfels can be plied through Blackwall and the Wardens. We have no direct connection Orzammar, but Varric's name is well-known enough to use. However, with our lessening reliance on lyrium in the new Templar Order, there may be hurt feelings to be soothed, preferably with new trade agreements. Elvhenan, and the Dalish in general, clearly see great potential for themselves in our Inquisitor."

Ellana smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes.

"The three remaining lands will be the most difficult to corral. The Free Marches do not bend easily and are inclined to be distrustful of any broad powers no matter who they are. However, they are well represented in the Inquisition, the Starkhaven contingent threw their strength in with us early on, and Hawke has returned to Kirkwall to reclaim her power, with our support," she said.

"Maker help Kirkwall," he mumbled, and Leliana laughed.

Josephine sighed. "Tevinter. Formerly impossible, given Dorian's status, the Venatori's lingering influence and our long enmity. We funded the movement against slave ownership for some time, as well. However, the Imperium now seems most eager to treat with us, and Dorian's ascent to the position of Archon can be achieved, delicately. He's made a strong impression on the ruling class, from what I can tell, hinting at his openness to an alliance with whichever House makes the strongest bid. His father is pleased, and House Pavus holds sway again with the Magisterium. That pleasure will be our gain."

Cullen narrowed his eyes. "An alliance. Another marriage?" he asked. Josephine nodded, and he cocked a skeptical eyebrow. He thought of the mage, waiting in his office for a new influx of men into the fortress. "That seems unlikely."

"Unlikely or no, I do not presume to tell him which path he should choose for himself," said the Antivan. She dropped her eyes back to the page, and said, after a minute of hesitation, "Nevarra. An ambitious land. They have wealth, military might, and magical prowess that is not well understood outside of its borders. While the rest of Thedas united would be more than a match for it, I fear we will not be united for some time. They are also centrally located and well-versed in whisper tactics. They may look not only to undermine us, but possibly take our control for their own, now that it can be had."

There was a sudden silence, and they all looked at him. They were clearly expecting some input, though he couldn't imagine what. He certainly had no contacts in Nevarra. He'd never even been to the place. As far as he knew, he'd only ever met one person from there in his life.

Understanding came. "Cassandra. She's royalty there," he said. Didn't he call her princess often enough? Just to annoy her, of course. She'd rather be a kitchen maid than a royal. "I'm sure she can't have left only enemies behind her. Mostly sure. Why not use them?"

The ambassador ignored the last. "Precisely, Commander. She is royalty," said Josephine. The soft note in her voice confused him, and he waited for them to make sense.

Leliana broke in. "In fact, given the struggle between the Pentaghasts and the Van Markhams, their rivals, and the weakening state of their current Pentaghast ruler, she is considerably more than royalty. She's being spoken of as a possibility for the throne," she said.

He laughed. "In her nightmares. Besides, she's told me how far away she is in the succession," he said.

"That was true when she left, but rules can be bent. She was not a highly ranked member of the most powerful army in Thedas then. The Seekers had not yet disbanded, leaving her untethered to their vows. Nevarra had not yet learned to fear the disorder outside their borders," said Josephine. "They respect warriors. They respect justice. And those who make decisions respect her."

"But you're right," said Leliana. "Cassandra would never consent to a crown, even if they offered. Even if they begged." From the look on her face, Leliana had once again gazed into the terrifying depths of his wife's stubbornness. "We will have to settle for building her influence in the country. And through hers, ours."

"I don't see a problem," he said, even though they clearly did. These women had never taken so long to come to the point in their lives. "If they already respect her and they like fighting, get their leaders in here with some swords and let her duel them all. After that, it will be pretty clear whose side they should be taking."

Ellana put a hand over her mouth to cover a giggle. Josephine rubbed her forehead. "A singular idea, to be sure. And broadly correct. We will be holding a ball to welcome them, as well as other ambassadors, in the next month. Cassandra will be central," she said.

"Will she have to wear a gown?" he asked. He grinned when they nodded. Cassandra would be livid. She'd only gone to the Winter Palace because she'd been able to wear pants. "This may be the only ball I enjoy in my entire life, then."

"Cullen," said Ellana, and he sobered at the use of his name. "In order for this to work, Cassandra must show a renewed interest in her home. In its traditions, in its future… in its sons."

He stared at her, and everything fell into place. He was more than sober now. "Absolutely not," he said. "There will be no alliances, no arrangements. Not for her." His friends may not know they were already wed, but they certainly knew the strength of their love.

"It's her choice," said Leliana, and he snarled deep in his throat. Yes, it was. She'd already made it. She was his. There was no other path.

Josephine held up a conciliatory hand. "She need not marry, or even enter a formal arrangement. Being open to the offers is enough. I can work with them just as easily," she said.

He tried to breathe, to think as they needed him to. As Cassandra would want him to. This was for her Inquisition. "Just through the ball? She pretends availability, I pretend indifference, and then the diplomacy takes over?" he asked.

"It will likely take a year to cement the ties we need to be secure."

A year? He didn't try to hide his disgust. "No. She'll never agree to this. I don't know why we're talking about it."

"She already has, Cullen," said Ellana quietly. "Yesterday. We needed to begin planning as soon as possible."

His mind shut down. All of those decisions she'd alluded to. The herbs. The talk they were going to have. Some talk that would have been, if they'd only had the time.

He found himself standing without thought, without waiting to be dismissed. The parts of his brain that reasoned were dead and gone, and a white-hot rage rode underneath him with the sweetness of a well-trained mount. He was going to have a different talk with her, now. And none of them were going to stop him.

"It won't be as bad as you think," said Ellana, desperation in her voice, but he was already slamming the door behind him before she could finish.


It was cold and bleak when he walked out to the training yard, but he didn't feel the chill. The full force of a Frostback winter was muted here, some remnant of the ancient powers that had once lived in the place. Or so Solas said. What it really meant was that being outside, within a close radius of Skyhold, wouldn't kill anyone. Just make them miserable. But Cullen didn't need any magical protection today to stay heated.

He heard the clash of swords and knew the morning run was over. Cassandra would be observing the recruits training. Or yelling at them, more likely. He pivoted towards the noise smoothly. The light had a negative quality, like the world had turned inside out, and he smiled without humor. It seemed even nature knew things were wrong.

Cullen saw her as soon as he descended the stairs. She was leaning against the wall of the tavern and talking to Bull deliberately. They liked to give the impression they were assessing the recruits, to make them nervous, but he knew they were really talking about the training schedule for the rest of the week. Good. He would have interrupted her no matter what she was doing, but it would be better that it was nothing critical.

As he watched, Bull said something with his trademark laugh, and Cassandra smiled while she nodded towards a slacking trainee. A performance. A game, for the benefit of his soldiers. Just like the games she would play with Nevarran nobility, smiling and staring and letting them think she could ever burn for them. Cullen's stomach knotted, and he knew he didn't want to talk to her at all.

In a handful of strides Cullen was next to her. It only took a single motion for him to pull her close and kiss her with a furious growl. His. She was his, and he was damned if he'd watch her let another man know even a ghost of what that might feel like. Cassandra and Cullen. That was the only thing in the world that had ever made sense. He tried to send the thought through his hands and his lips, to brand himself on her soul. I do not consent.

Only after a long minute, when the kiss had softened into something gentler and infinitely sadder, did he realize how close he was to tears. And how motionless she was next to him.

He pulled back. Her face told him nothing at all, but her eyes held far too many things. Sadness and support and guilt, but also wariness and embarrassment and just a touch of exasperation. He frowned a little, wondering what was fueling that, until he heard the sharp, brief sound of laughter from the ring of watching soldiers.

Maker's breath, had he really just done that in front of a whole yard of trainees?

He knew how hard she worked to maintain authority, even though command was as much a part of her as the scar on her cheek or the lines of her jaw. She'd told him enough times how hard it was to get some of the less open-minded soldiers to accept her as a leader, and even the most generous of them had a difficult time blending the woman away until there was only the Seeker. It didn't help that she was the most beautiful woman in the ranks, he was sure. In all of Thedas. And now he'd given them the clearest reminder of her sexuality they were likely ever to get, and they were laughing, and it was his fault.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His mind was still roiling, angry and possessive and hard, but the shame mixed with it easily. He fought the urge to cover his face with his hands.

"We'll talk later, Commander," she said. Her voice was firm but kind, with no rancor or condemnation, but he still stepped back like he'd been slapped. A whole year of Commanders and Lady Seekers, and nothing beyond. No more "Cullens" he could practically taste on her tongue, no more laughing "Princesses" in the night. They wouldn't dare it. No place would be dark enough to cover the risk of their discovery.

He turned to leave, needing to go somewhere else, away from all of this confusion. Skyhold suddenly felt small and crowded, and he no longer had the person next to him that made all of that go away. But just before he left, he heard a muttered, "If I'd known those were the perks of command, I would have signed up for my Lord's guard a long time ago," and he spun back, furious beyond all reason.

Cassandra's hands found his arm, holding him back, and a dim part of him knew he should let her overpower him to gain back some of what he'd taken from her. A larger, feral, dark part of him searched the faces of the recruits without mercy. "Who said that?" he demanded.

Bull, who'd been astonishingly quiet through everything that had happened, stepped forward. "Don't worry Commander. I know," he said lazily.

Cullen waited, clenching and unclenching his fists while the qunari walked slowly down the line. He stopped in front of a solidly built, defiant man with the open expression that spoke to an Orlesian upbringing. The ones in the masks never learned how to hide their feelings well enough, unless they became true players of the Game. Which was how the true players of the Game liked it to work.

"I'd ask your name," said Bull, "but I don't think you'll be with us long enough to make it worth my time."

"You can't kick me out for saying what we were all thinking."

"Were you all thinking that?" asked Bull with seemingly genuine curiosity, and a chorus of "No sers" came back quickly. "Yeah, I figured."

He turned back to the Orlesian. "Now, to you. First, I can kick you out for anything I damn well want to, at any time. You think you're going to stop me?" he said. He grinned as he crossed his arms and somehow seemed to grow even taller than he already was. "I don't punish good men, and I don't lose good men, but not all men are good. Second, that wasn't what I meant. You'll be dead in minutes in any real fight."

"I'm an excellent swordsman, ser," said the potentially suicidal recruit.

"Only an idiot thinks the battle turns on his blade," said Bull. "The meat of any fight is the time when you look at the enemy, see what he is, understand what you are, and put yourself in a position to win." He shifted slightly and opened his stance to Cullen and Cassandra. "Is the Commander an enemy you would want to engage, recruits?"

A murmur of dissent rose, and Bull smiled. "Of course not. He's strong, he's fast, he's experienced, and, most importantly, he's clearly pissed off enough to kill an archdemon without blinking. You meet him, or someone like him, on the battlefield, you find another part of the battlefield until I get there," he said. "That's lesson one."

Cullen relaxed slightly. Bull was turning this into a lesson, into something that wouldn't simply be a jealous Commander fraternizing in the ranks. He settled back, still brittle, but no longer on the edge of violence. Cassandra took her hands from his arm, and the loss of her touch left him breathless.

Bull continued without acknowledging them. "And what about the Lady Seeker?"

Another murmur of dissent, but not so strong. Not so sure. It had the flavor of being expected rather than being believed. Bull chuckled. "And this is why you need the training we'll drag you through. The Commander is an obvious threat, easy to avoid - except for the truly stupid among you," he said, nodding towards the reddening Orlesian. "No skill required. But the Seeker is the enemy that will kill you, in the end. She'll be the one you don't see, because you looked past her to the next fight. The fight you're never going to have. Because you're dead.

"But don't worry. By the time we're done, you'll know what to look for," said the qunari. "Starting now. Seeker. Time for a bout." He clapped his hand on the loud-mouthed recruit's shoulder. "Let's see this man's excellent sword work."

Cullen breathed out as Bull looked at him meaningfully. It was time to leave. They clearly had this well in hand, and he was no longer needed for the lesson. He spared one glance for Cassandra, who was calm and focused for all she wasn't looking at him, before turning towards the stairs to the battlements.

As he walked away, he heard the Orlesian man say, "But she's not even armored!"

Bull laughed at the edge of Cullen's hearing. "Why should she weigh herself down for someone like you?"