Author's Notes
The Breach in the sky is the biggest, but not the only, problem facing the reborn Inquistion. With the rogue Templars and Apostates 'pacified' attention turns to the Lyrium smugglers operating in and around Lake Luthian and Hatter's Woods; although disrupted wildlife presents its own difficulties to the smooth running of a military campaign…
Marcus accidentally discovers some of the truth behind Cullen's struggle and has a heart-to-heart with a convalescing Cassandra about the Commander's well-being.
****TRIGGER ALERT****
Strong language, references to addiction, mild violence, mild homo-eroticism, continued hints at potential Cullen/Male Trevelyan . Rated M for mature content
****MILD POTENTIAL SPOILER WARNING****
The story is set at an undefined point during the early part of the game, before any significant major plot choices are made. Cullen's struggle with addiction is extensively discussed but no major events are referenced.
****Disclaimer****
Dragon Age: Inquisition is copyright to EA Games and I own nothing to do with it (not even that sweet, adorkable, stammering Fereldan cinnamon-roll Cullen 'Maker's Breath!' Rutherford, *sigh*). Characters and situations are used solely for non-commercial entertainment purposes.
Please review and comment, constructive feedback is always welcomed.
9:36 Dragon – Ostwick Circle Tower
Even at midnight, the air hung hot and heavy; like a wool blanket fresh from the laundress. The rain earlier in the evening had done nothing to diminish the heat, although it fragranced the night with the heady smell of damp vegetation. The sky was clear, full of stars, and Marcus lay on the roof of the Eastward Tower counting off the constellations like a litany
Eluvia… Fervenial… Peraquialus…
"You should be asleep"
The young Mage raised himself onto one elbow, turning his head at the sound of Aidhan's voice. The dark-haired Templar looked tired and strained, it had been a hard night for everyone. Marcus shook his head
"Not a chance, Aidh… my room's like an oven. Besides, Raymon warned me that dreams after a Harrowing can be quite intense… I could do without any more intensity tonight."
Aidhan walked over and lay down beside him. He'd long since doffed his armour, but even in breeches and a linen undershirt he could feel the sweat trickling down his back. It was unusually hot, even for High Summer, and the weather showed no sign of breaking.
"You're a full-blown Mage now…" he smiled "although the Knight Commander said it was the strangest Harrowing he's ever attended."
Marcus laughed
"So everyone keeps saying. Lydia told me that Raymon is going to seal the full record so only future First Enchanters can read it. I'm just glad it's over."
"You did well, Marc; I knew you would…" Aidhan stroked his cheek tenderly. 20 was an unusually young age for an apprentice to be selected for Harrowing. He'd heard some of the other Templars muttering that the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter were giving Marcus an 'easy pass' because he was a Trevelyan, and Bann Lewin had made substantial gifts to the Circle. Such things weren't supposed to happen, but where wealthy and influential patrons were concerned even a well-run Circle like that of Ostwick might bend the rules.
The Lyrium-induced trance had been deep, however, and the demon an unexpectedly powerful one; It was only the second Harrowing Aidhan had witnessed, but the senior Templars and Enchanters present seemed just as shaken by the experience. After tonight, no-one could accuse Marc of not having proved himself as a Mage of great potential. He glanced down at the deceptively fragile-looking Silverite and rock-crystal Lyrium flask that the young man turned in his fingers. A masterwork of the finest Orlesian craftsmen, you could drop it from the highest bell-tower without so much as scratching the polish.
"Did Lydia give you that?"
Marcus nodded. It had been a gift to the Senior Enchanter at her Harrowing, thirty years ago, and now she had passed it on to him; a gesture of confidence and affection from the woman who'd become a second mother to him since his entry to the Circle.
"She said 'Use it wisely, but use it sparingly; it gives power, though the price is high…'"
He looked thoughtfully up at Aidhan, wondering for a moment what price the Templar was going to pay. Mages used a highly diluted form of Lyrium on rare occasions to enhance potent workings or induce conscious entry to the Fade. Templars drew their power from daily ingesting the primordial mineral itself. Lydia had hinted this caused 'problems' for them as time went on; the furthest she had gone in warning Marcus about the potential dangers of his deepening relationship with Aidhan. She must know those 'problems' well, he supposed, it was common knowledge that Senior Enchanter Lydia and Knight-Commander Durward had been lovers for years. They certainly bickered like a long-married couple.
Aidhan looked back at him and smiled, then leaned forward and nuzzled a kiss into Marcus's neck
"I have gift for you as well" the Templar murmured, voice deep and hoarse with desire.
"Should it be used wisely and sparingly?" Marcus chuckled as he put his arms around Aidhan and drew him closer.
"Foolishly and often…" Aidhan growled, tugging at the Mage's belt.
###
9:41 Dragon – Fereldan Hinterlands
"There, if you hadn't been such a big baby it would've been done in half the time..."
Varric tightened and knotted the last of the stitches in the gash on Marcus's shoulder
"And if you'd used a sharper needle it would've taken a quarter of the time." grumbled the young Mage as the Dwarf rummaged in his pack
"Well, pardon me! Next time we go hunting smugglers, I'll ask if I can borrow Leliana's embroidery set"
"I didn't know Sister Leliana did needlework" Blackwall said, cleaning the last of the blood from his sword with a fistful of grass
"She doesn't" grinned Varric "She just likes having sharp needles handy"
The Warden laughed, a bit nervously, and shook his head; reasonably convinced Varric was joking, you could never be too sure where Sister Leliana was concerned though. He heaved a deep, gratified sigh
"Certainly not been a dull day" he observed, glancing over to where Inquisition trackers were expertly skinning and dismembering the carcasses of three Greatbears "Thought I was gonna shit meself when that third one came over the ridge…"
"Someone has, by the smell of it" Marcus wrinkled his nose as Varric smeared a thick greenish-yellow paste over the stitched-up wound, hissing through clenched teeth as he felt it sting
"Maf'rath's Balls! What's in that stuff? It smells like druffalo dung!"
"It's just elfroot, spindleweed, a bit of Tevinter liquorice, boiled wine..." Varric hesitated before adding hastily "and druffalo dung; it's an old Dwarven remedy!"
Marcus scowled at him
"Somehow you and the finer points of Dwarven ancestral tradition go together like Sera and Dalish poetry. When you say it's an 'old Dwarven remedy' are you sure you didn't just get it from an old Dwarf?"
Varric huffed for a bit then conceded defeat
"Well, if you must know; it's something Hawke used to boil up, but it works wonders. This'll keep it clean and free from infection until we get back to the Crossroads."
The ride back to the Crossroads normally took less than a day at a good pace, but it was already well past noon and none of them were in a mood for hurrying. That encounter with the Carta's mercenaries would have been a close fought thing even without the Great Bears putting in an appearance. Three adult males in the same territory was unheard of, Minaeve would be fascinated by this. He was taking back some fur, bone and teeth for her to examine. The claws; glossy, black and razor sharp, had been shared out as trophies. Marcus had chosen a nicely matched pair from the big one he'd finished off, the one which had come within few inches of taking his arm off at the shoulder.
At least they knew where the mercenaries were holed up now and, with a squad of Corporal Vale's men to back them up, that problem could be rooted up and dealt with.
There was another reason not to hurry. Redcliffe Farm was on their route back and Horsemaster Dennet's wife would be sure to welcome them with hot stew, fresh brewed ale and warm dry beds. It was a contented, well-fed and well-rested group of companions who arrived back at the crossroads late the next afternoon.
A familiar voice could be heard barking orders as they entered the camp
"Commander Cullen!" Marcus called cheerfully as he dismounted "Seeker Pentaghast finally lose her patience with you?"
Cullen shook his head, with a rueful smile.
"She 'suggested' if I was so keen about detailed reports from the Hinterlands that I should either re-read the ones she submitted or come out and see for myself"
"So, she's annoyed with you and you've run out here to hide for a week or two?" Marcus grinned as Cullen nodded a bit sheepishly "How's her leg doing?"
"Almost completely healed. Enchanter Ellendra's done a good job"
Cassandra convalescing was like a wyvern with toothache. Everyone would be glad when she was up and hitting things again.
"Bad timing, Curly!" called Varric, dusting off his boots "You just missed the big hunt."
Cullen looked quizzically at the herald, noticing the awkward way the younger man carried his arm. Marcus patted him on the shoulder
"Let's go get a drink; Harding has a fresh batch of ale brewing and I can't wait to hear how Varric tells this story. I bet he omits the part about screaming like a chantry novice…" he laughed at the dwarf's irate glare "Oh, sorry! Was it an old Dwarven war-cry?"
###
The mercenaries had been expecting a large force approaching from the front, but Vale's men knew the territory and the paths through the crags which allowed them to flank around the defences. Being attacked by smaller groups from half a dozen directions had them on the wrong foot from the start and the fight was brutal but short. Marcus was pretty sure he'd popped a couple of stitches in his shoulder, and that it would hurt like a bastard when the euphoria of battle wore off, but it was worth it. He'd only seen Cullen in a real fight once before, during the first attempt to seal the Breach. The man was relentless, a human whirlwind, blade flashing like the lightning from the Mage's staff as he cut down the mercenary captain, deftly evading the blows from great warhammer.
He was reasonably sure he'd heard the Commander laugh at one point. This clearly made up for his disappointment at missing out on the Great Bears.
They'd dealt with the 'bandits' and now knew where the Carta smugglers were operating from, an abandoned Deep Roads entrance near Lake Luthian. Blackwall had volunteered to lead a force in there. Deep Roads meant the risk of Darkspawn and who better than a Grey Warden for dealing with them?
On top of that, the Villa would be a good base of operations for the Inquisition in this remote part of the hinterlands. If the Arl didn't like it, then he could send some of his own men to take responsibility for the protection of his Arling. Josephine could probably put that in more diplomatic language.
Seizing the Lyrium cache was an added bonus. The Inquisition Mages, and those Templars who'd stayed on at Haven after the destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, needed it and stockpiles were getting low. Until they could agree a deal with Orzammar to ensure a regular supply, the Inquisition had to rely on what they could scavenge. It was far from ideal and Marcus was glad he'd taken Lydia's advice to heart.
On the other hand, the quantity of Red Lyrium they'd found was troubling. The e Carta wouldn't be hunting for, or mining, such a lethal substance unless they had a guaranteed buyer. There were a lot of unanswered questions piling up and Marcus was sure they wouldn't like the answers. At the thought of Lyrium, his hand strayed unconsciously to the flask at his belt
Shit!
It must have come off in the last fight. The contents didn't worry him, it was weeks since he'd last used any and the stuff gave him a horrendous hangover; but Lydia's gift? No way in all the hells did he want to lose that
Marcus raced up the stairs, past Inquisition soldiers clearing out the remains of the mercenaries, and into the upper hall. He sighed with relief seeing Cullen there, holding the flask in his hand.
"Thank the Maker! You found it, I would hate to have…"
Marcus stopped mid-sentence, Cullen did not appear to have registered his appearance. The man stood in the middle of the room, staring at the translucent flask in his ungloved hand as if hypnotised; breathing heavily through his nose, amber eyes shadowed and cloudy, sweat beading his face and neck. Marcus could see the muscles in his jaw and neck clenching and flexing as if the Commander was fighting some pressing inner need.
"Cullen?"
Cullen flinched and turned, seeming to see Marcus for the first time.
"Marcus, I…" he cleared his throat "This is yours. It must have come off your belt…"
He still stood there, the flask resting in the palm of his hand, making no movement to return it. Marcus walked over and took it from him, hooking it securely into place.
"Thank you…" he began, then flared his nostrils slightly. Something odd…
Cullen jerked his head back as Marcus leaned in suddenly and sniffed at the skin of his neck, coming so close that their cheeks brushed for a second
"What are you…?" surprise and anger flashed in his eyes and he took a step away from the Mage, fists clenching.
"When did you last take Lyrium?" Marcus asked, fixing the commander with a steady, serious, gaze. The unexpected question banished the commander's anger, leaving him flushed and almost wordless.
"Maker! How…? I mean… you can…?" He swallowed hard and took a deep breath to compose himself while Marcus waited quietly "Not since I joined the Inquisition, just over 12 months. How did you know?"
"Twelve months…?" It was Marcus's turn to be astonished; Templars were saturated with Lyrium and the risks of withdrawal were well known. He'd seen a couple of cases back in Ostwick and it was far from pleasant. "Cullen, this is dangerous!"
"Some days are worse than others" Cullen admitted. His hands unclenched and he began to seem less hostile, although still shaking with nervous tension "Cassandra has known since the beginning. She monitors me, making sure I'm fit for duty; that I can manage my responsibilities. This will not be allowed to affect my work for the Inquisition."
"Oh, hang the Inquisition!" Marcus retorted "It's you I'm concerned about. This could kill you, or drive you mad…"
"It hasn't yet…" Cullen interjected sharply, then his voice softened. He didn't want to have this conversation, not here anyway and certainly not now, but something would have to be said. He could hardly walk out the room without some form of explanation "I have to do this, Marcus. Lyrium ties me to a past I am not proud of; to a man I do not wish to be. I have to break that tie, to prove to myself that I'm no longer that man; that I can make a new beginning without… without being bound by this… this need"
He gestured, as if trying to brush off the obsession clinging to him. Marcus reached out and grasped Cullen's hand warmly. The other man started slightly but didn't pull away
"What you're doing is very dangerous, but I understand why you feel you must; and I respect you for it. If it's any comfort, I think you're strong enough to do this."
"The man I was…" Cullen lowered his head, unable to look at Marcus "He would not have regarded you kindly, only seen you as a menace to be kept caged and isolated. When I think of how I would have treated you then, I'm ashamed… deeply ashamed"
"But we are friends, I hope" Marcus cocked his head to try and catch Cullen's eye "You're not that man anymore, and I rather think I like who you are now. If there's anything I can do to help?"
Cullen sighed heavily
"Yes, we are friends; and I value your friendship, truly. That is help enough…"
Marcus squeezed Cullen's hand fondly, then let it go. Their eyes met and for the briefest moment Marcus had the impression the Commander was about to say something more but changed his mind. He shook his head and grimaced; this place stank of blood, shit and lyrium. The sooner they got out of here, the better.
"Vale and his men can handle the clear-up; we should get on the road. We can make Redcliffe Farm by sunset and you've yet to sample Mistress Dennet's venison stew."
Cullen laughed, the tension in his face and posture dissolving
"Is that an order… Herald?"
Marcus laughed with him
"If it makes you feel any better, yes! Now, let's get going. Before I'm so hungry I'm tempted to eat something Blackwall's cooked!"
Once away from the claustrophobic, musty, atmosphere of the villa, Cullen appeared more relaxed and easy with himself; joking with Blackwall as the party rode along. They'd been riding for about an hour when a rapidly approaching crashing and roaring caught all their attentions. Blackwall squinted in its direction, then laughed as he swung his shield round and onto his arm.
"Looks like you're about to get your wish, Commander!"
"Oh you have got to be fucking shitting me!" exclaimed Varric, unhooking Bianca, as the Great Bear came charging through the undergrowth.
###
"Another Great Bear?" Cassandra exclaimed, then growled irritably "Why does this have to happen when I am stuck in a bed being clucked over by old hens?"
The Seeker's broken leg was almost completely healed. Both Enchanter Ellendra and Mother Giselle had given their assurances she would be up and about before the end of the week. Marcus was certain that both women, careful and attentive healers though they were, would be relieved to bid farewell to their irascible patient.
"Sheer bad timing!" he laughed "I think Varric will be happy if he never sees another one in his life. Minaeve's excited though, she seems to think this proves her theory about the breach disrupting behaviour patterns amongst the wildlife."
Cassandra grunted
"Well it's disrupting everything else, why not the animals?" She paused, weighing her next question carefully "And Cullen… was he all right?"
"Happy as a nug in shite fighting that bear!" Marcus smiled broadly, but then his expression took a serious turn "There was a lot of raw Lyrium, and some of the red stuff, at the villa. It was difficult for him, but he got through it. I know he hasn't taken any since leaving Kirkwall"
Cassandra sighed, relieved that someone else shared Cullen's secret; with her, carrying it by herself was a burden she was willing to shoulder but it was still a heavy one.
"When I met him in Kirkwall, he was a broken man" she admitted "Being Cullen, he was trying to hold the remaining Templars together to the best of his abilities but I could tell it was destroying him. It wasn't just for his military abilities that asked him to join the Inquisition; I could see the path he was on would end up killing him and I did not want a good man to be wasted like that. He has suffered much…"
Marcus nodded quietly
"I know he was at Kinloch Hold during the Blight. Even in Ostwick we heard stories about what happened, what was done to the Templars there…"
Cassandra hesitated; Cullen had told her much in confidence and she was unsure what she could share with Marcus without his permission. The young Mage was no fool though, no matter how hard he played one at times, and he had clearly been able to work out some of Cullen's history for himself.
"He was barely 19. The damage to his mind is only now beginning to heal and the Lyrium withdrawal does not help. For him to offer friendship to a Mage shows a great deal of trust. I hope you can appreciate that…"
Marcus sensed the unspoken implication under the Seeker's words
"I'm not planning on a seduction, Cassandra" he promised her "I care for Cullen, and I understand what he's trying to do. I wouldn't want to undermine that, or him."
The young man looked, and sounded, serious and sincere; Cassandra felt her fears ease a little. Cullen could be, well, vulnerable at times when the craving was bad. She had never thought that Marcus would deliberately take advantage of the Commander's trust but she was glad he had an appreciation of what was involved, and what might be at stake in developing any sort of closeness to a man in his situation.
"Cullen needs a friend right now; more than he needs anything else. I am pleased you see that and that you are not looking for something that he is not ready to give."
Something about the way she said the last part made Marcus pause and he looked at her questioningly, although Cassandra's expression gave nothing away and he reckoned enquiring further would be fruitless and counter-productive.
"Well, he has two friends to watch out for him now; and I hope I can do as well as you."
Cassandra regarded the young man carefully. There were depths to Marcus Trevelyan that he took great care to hide from the casual observer; an active thoughtful compassion and a commitment to what was right. Despite sometimes wanting to strangle him out of sheer frustration she could not deny that he had done more than any of them to give the Inquisition a sense of direction and a connection to the people it sought to protect.
"Half the time I think you behave like an idiot only so people don't put you on a pedestal like some gilded saint. The rest of the time I think you are an idiot who just happens to have his heart in the right place." She sighed and adjusted her leg under the covers "Either way, it is oddly comforting."
"I'm glad I can retain something of my mystery" Marcus laughed "Shall I tell Sister Chanice you're ready for your sponge bath?"
"Get! Out! Now!"
###
A few days later
Marcus knew where to find Cullen, at this time of the evening the Commander would be in the stables, assuring himself the horses were well bedded down. Really, he would be petting them and feeding apples to his favourites. Marcus recalled Leliana saying something about Cullen being a farmer's son and he certainly appeared happier and more relaxed with animals than he was around most people.
Sure enough, there he was, smiling quietly and stroking Thunder, the big Fereldan charger; while keeping a careful distance from the stable's more unusual occupants.
"I still can't get used to that thing" Cullen glanced over at the Bog Unicorn "I tried giving it an apple and it just looked at me in way that made me want to be very far away. Have you ever ridden it?"
"Once" Marcus admitted, "It felt weird, like it was trying to take me somewhere that I needed to be but didn't really want to visit. Horsemaster Dennet says it prefers raw liver, if you want to know."
Cullen shuddered and shook his head.
"Weird is one thing we definitely don't need more of around here. Are you eating at the Maiden tonight?"
"Oh yes! Flissa said there was a boar pie tonight and promised to save some. She also said that Maryden has a sore throat so it should be safe; care to join me?"
"I usually just get something from the kitchens and eat in my quarters" Cullen hesitated "With onion gravy…?"
"And roast parsnips" Marcus added, knowing this to be the deal clincher
"Oh... Well! In that case, I suppose it would be good to eat in company for a change."
"It was your smell, by the way" Marcus said quietly as they walked towards the gate "That was what told me you'd stopped taking Lyrium."
"My smell?" Cullen paused, looking at him questioningly "How could that tell you anything?"
"Lyrium gives Templars a particular scent, not unpleasant, but distinctive. It must be because they take so much of it. Mages appear to be particularly sensitive to the smell. Yours is still there but… weaker… than it would normally be."
Cullen sighed heavily
"So, it's still with me?"
The resigned despair in his voice twisted Marcus's guts. He could give Cullen a comfortable lie but sensed this wouldn't be appreciated.
"If you want an honest answer, I think it's going to be with you for a long time; but I'm here for you, and so is Cassandra. We won't let you fall. I promise you"
"Thank you" Cullen's voice was almost too faint to be heard. It was difficult for him to accept, that someone could have an idea of who and what he'd been and still be willing to show him kindness.
Cassandra, he could understand. She needed him as the sword arm of the Inquisition and had invested a great deal of faith in him. Marcus? There was every logical reason for the Mage to hate him, or at least distrust him. There was a time when he had embodied everything that was wrong with the Templar Order. Perhaps it was their common pain, the experience of betrayal and brutal loss, that enabled the Herald to see past that; to find the man Cullen was trying to be and bond with that spark struggling in the darkness. Perhaps Andraste truly had sent him and, if that was the case...
He shook his head slightly, that thought led to places he wasn't ready to visit and, besides, the smell of roast boar pie was tickling at his nostrils. The idea of that, and a jug of strong brown ale shared with the friend beside him, was grounding and he clung to it.
They halted outside the tavern door and Marcus took something from the wallet at his side. Now was definitely the right time.
"You didn't take a trophy from the bear you killed. That's bad luck, so I took the liberty of having this made for you"
Cullen looked at the cloak pin Marcus placed in his hand. A large foreclaw, polished to the lustre of obsidian, set in a finely worked steel mount. A design of interlaced Mabari was delicately chased into the metal
"Harrit enjoyed making it. He said he doesn't get the chance to do much fine work these days."
Cullen couldn't take his eyes off it. The workmanship was beautiful and the thought behind the gift a warm and compassionate one, but he couldn't...
"Templars are not permitted to..." he began
"You're not a Templar any more, remember?" Marcus said, smiling "I don't recall Officers of the Inquisition being prohibited from receiving gifts. If they are, Josephine will have to return those Rivaini candies; and I don't want to be the one to tell her that!"
Cullen looked up at Marcus then back to the pin and something unknotted inside him. This was more than just a generous token of friendship, it was a sign Marcus believed that he could... No, that he would break this chain that bound him to a past he hated
"Marcus... I.. Thank you" Cullen removed the plain steel pin from his cloak and replaced it with the one Marcus gave him, squinting his head to see it glint darkly against the thick fur "This… this means a great deal."
"I know" Marcus took his hand and shook it warmly "Happy Birthday, Cullen!"
The Commander looked at him in astonishment, then sighed and rolled his eyes
"Leliana, of course…" he shook his head with a rueful smile "I should have guessed."
"She's good for more than just finding out what the Arishok had for breakfast," Marcus laughed "and, as far as I'm concerned, Officers of the Inquisition are also allowed to celebrate their birthdays"
"Well I just hope you didn't tell anyone else" Cullen muttered as he pushed at the door of the Singing Maiden
"I wouldn't dream of it…" Marcus replied with a look of mock indignation
"SURPRISE!" yelled the assembled crowd within the tavern
"…Leliana may have let something slip to Josephine though."