Mages, it had to be mages.

Not just an agreement with them, no. He had to go and form an alliance! And not just any mages, the rebel mages who had been using Maker knows what kinds of magic. Even Solas had admitted that the mages they'd seen fighting out in Redcliff had gone mad, and now they were part of the Inquisition?

Cullen paced from one end of the room to the other, trying to steady his breathing. It felt like everything was spinning out of control. The Inquisition had been a chance at a new life, but he was seeing visions of Kirkwall all over again.

When he'd confronted Trevelyan, even Cassandra had defended the Herald's decision. No one believed the mages should be restricted.

He should leave. Leave while he could.

Even as he thought it, he knew he couldn't. No matter how angry he was, closing the Breach was top priority and the Inquisition was the best chance for it.

Josephine slipped into the room. By the way she looked at him, she probably knew he was fuming. She gave him a small smile in greeting. She was usually the first to arrive for their meetings, but he hadn't trusted himself to be in his own quarters feeling this way, so he'd been pacing up and down, glaring at the markers on the war table, for the last half an hour.

"I'd like to compliment you on your diplomacy, Commander," she said.

"I'm not sure whether you're being sarcastic."

"Oh no, I'm being perfectly serious. We know you disagree with the choice the Herald made. It was good of you to assure him of your support."

"I assured him he'd have the support of my troops."

"Which amounts to the same thing, does it not? I must admit, I was a little concerned we'd have a civil war of our own just then."

He gave a snort. "I hope he realises that if they give us any trouble…"

The door opened and Leliana stepped in, followed by Cassandra and Trevelyan locked in conversation. They were talking about something he'd seen in the future, something to do with red lyrium. Cullen may have been more interested if he hadn't still been grinding his teeth over the mage alliance.

"Shall we begin?" he cut in. The others fell silent. He pointed to the space on the map that marked where the Temple of Sacred Ashes had once stood. "Troops and mages alike still need to be outfitted. I suggest we begin by commissioning –"

There was some kind of commotion outside. Sweet Andraste. Trouble already?

The others were possibly thinking the same thing. Leliana and Josie exchanged a look.

"I'll go check." Cassandra had her hand on her weapon as she moved to the door.

Cullen took another deep breath, his hands traveling automatically to his own sword hilt.

"The Circles are gone, mages are enslaved by Tevinter, Orlais's at war again, the Grey Wardens are performing blood magic and did I mention there's a hole in the sky? And you won't even let me speak to anyone."

"I'm sorry," the young man blushed scarlet. "The council is in session, if you wait…"

"I've done enough waiting."

Solana had run out on the Wardens as soon as she'd heard what Clarel was planning. She hadn't brought Falin and Cassey. They wouldn't have left without the tranquil and she knew she needed to get help fast. She hadn't intended to be gone long. She'd headed straight for the Chantry, thinking that if anyone would be willing to stop blood magic it would be them. But then she'd discovered that the Templars had gone rogue, leaving the Chantry completely toothless. She'd figured asking the rebel mages would be the next best solution – they understood the risks as well as she did. And they probably had enough power to stop the Wardens. But when she'd finally reached Redcliff, she'd been told that the mage leader had sold her people into servitude for protection against the Templars.

Solana had found herself on the Redcliff docks, staring out at the castle and cursing her timing. If she'd come there first, she could have at least asked Teagan for help, but now the castle was full of Tevinters. Her prior dealings with Tevinters had not at all endeared her to them, or them to her.

"It's you!"

She'd turned to the voice, cursing under her breath. That was the other thing about Redcliff, the thing that had kept her away so long. Too many people who knew her.

It had taken her some time to recognise the young man staring at her, agape. Connor, the boy she'd once rescued from demon possession. He was now fully-grown, clad in Circle robes.

He'd begged her to save them all, as she had before. In fact, he thought she'd come to Redcliff with the express purpose of ousting the Tevinters. But when she finally convinced him that she was on urgent business of her own, he'd told her about the Inquisition. People had been whispering its name outside of town, he'd said. The Inquisition was doing something about the breach in the sky, they'd been helping refugees, they were building an army.

The Inquisition was her last and only hope. And she couldn't even get inside.

She drew a breath for a repeat diatribe at the man blocking the door – her third – when the door opened. A strong-looking woman with a scarred face and dark close-cropped hair stepped out. She put her hands on her hips.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"I need to speak with you," Solana said. "It's important."

The woman frowned, her brow furrowed. "And you just assume that your matter is more important than what we are currently discussing?"

Solana was about to answer that yes, it almost certainly was, when another figure arrived at the door. She was hooded and as soon as she saw Solana, she darted past the scarred woman and rushed towards her.

Solana reached for her staff, then she saw the face.

Leliana took her in a fierce embrace. "We were looking everywhere for you. I thought you'd gone to the Deep Roads."

"It seems to be the current trend," Solana said, still stunned. "What are you doing here? I thought you went back to the Chantry?"

Leliana's laugh was as musical as it had been a decade prior. "I did. And then I –"

The scarred woman cleared her throat.

"Oh, my apologies. May I present my good friend Solana." Leliana gave her a little conspiratorial smile. "Otherwise known as the Hero of Ferelden."

"Please don't call me that."

It was too late, everyone in the hall was staring at her. Before, they'd been awkwardly trying to continue their business despite her shouting. The young man she'd been shouting at visibly paled and Solana thought he might faint.

The scarred woman's brown eyes went wide. She seemed to drift from the room where they'd been meeting. "You're her? But we searched."

"Why were you looking for me?"

"We needed a leader, of course," Leliana said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? I can't be your le-"

The word died in her throat. Someone else had stepped out of the room, obviously curious as to what was keeping the others. He had a jagged scar across his lip now and had stubble where before he'd been cultivating a beard, but other than that he looked exactly the same.

"I'm still a mage," she said. Even if she was willing to lead them, there was no way in Thedas he'd follow a mage.

For his part, he hadn't moved since he'd spotted her.

Leliana followed her gaze. "Solana, you know Commander Cullen."

Leliana had been there in the Circle Tower. She'd heard the things he'd said. He'd been tortured for days, and the cruelty of the malificarum had driven him insane. He'd begged Solana to kill them all – blood mage and innocent alike, just in case they'd been corrupted. And when she'd refused, he'd pled with his captain to allow him to do that dark duty. He'd frightened her. And now here he was, in a position of power. In one of the last positions of power left this side of Thedas.

"You never told me you knew the Hero?" the scarred woman was saying to him. He didn't answer, he was just staring at Solana as if she was darkspawn or one of those fade rifts.

"Not surprising," she said. "I don't think I'm one of his fondest memories."

She saw his adam's apple bob, but he didn't offer any response.

"This is Cassandra Pentagast," Leliana introduced the scarred woman. "She was the right hand of the Divine. She set up the Inquisition. And that's Josephine, our ambassador." A short woman dressed in gold had stepped out from behind Cullen.

Solana greeted them politely.

"You should join us at the war table," Leliana said, guiding her towards the room. "We have much to discuss."

Cullen felt cold and it had nothing to do with the weather.

He suspected that for once it didn't have anything to do with his withdrawal either.

As soon as they concluded their business in the war room, he marched to his quarters, straight up to the fire, rubbing his arms in vain.

They'd told him that if he went off lyrium not only would he lose his abilities, and possibly his mind, but his memories would fade too. He'd forget the past and become confused about the present. That was one of the reasons he'd asked Cassandra to keep a close eye on him.

But he hadn't forgotten anything. He hadn't forgotten the first day he'd seen her. He must have been about sixteen, on his first assignment at the Tower. She'd been living there for years already. Tall for her age, flame-red hair, soft pink lips that seldom smiled. The other mages had seen him as a weakling, an opportunity to get back at their handlers. Not that any of them ever tried anything physical. They wouldn't have gone that far. But they'd taken pleasure in his confusion, intentionally sent him in circles trying to find his barracks, slipping interesting items into his food. Not her. She'd always been kind. She'd taken pity on him, he supposed. On one particular occasion, a prank had sent his lunch tray flying. His meal had been scattered across the floor. She'd stopped to help him pick everything up and had quietly slipped him part of her own meal.

Perhaps that had been the moment he'd fallen in love with her.

Her shy smile when she'd sneakily transferred her currant bun onto his tray was burned into his memory. "I don't like raisins," she'd whispered.

He could remember that as clearly as he could remember her Harrowing, three years later. He'd thrown up the night before. He hadn't slept. He'd been so terrified his duty would demand he kill her. He'd been unable to stop shaking the entire time she'd been in the Fade. And when she'd passed the test in no more than a few minutes, he had been elated. He'd told everyone how amazed he'd been. In retrospect he must have sounded like a proud teacher rather than what he was, a degenerate with an ill-advised infatuation.

There had been no point to it, he'd known it. He was a Templar. She was his charge. It could never have gone anywhere. And besides, he could never even maintain a conversation with her. Every time she'd tried to speak to him, he'd stammered short, awkward answers or his voice had abandoned him completely. Throat tight, tongue too large for his mouth, it was as if she'd cast a spell on him.

Not exactly what any woman was looking for in a lover.

The very same day of her Harrowing, while he was still celebrating her victory as if it had been his own, she'd been caught up in something just as deadly. People who he'd respected, who should have been better, used her as a pawn in their little struggle for power. She'd done precisely as her First Enchanter had ordered, and had been outcast as a result. If the Grey Warden, Duncan, hadn't been there, she may well have been made tranquil. Instead, she had left, promised to the Wardens like some prize bronto.

Their loss, all of Ferelden's gain.

The next time he'd seen her, she'd been in the midst of saving the world. She'd come back to the Circle to assist a possessed child. She'd found it over-run by abominations. And she'd found him…

He'd babbled for a good few minutes about his forbidden feelings for her, and then begged her to kill… kill so many people. When she'd refused, he'd cursed her, he'd told her her compassion would be her undoing. He'd… he'd horrified her. Disgusted her. He'd seen it in her face, but back then he hadn't cared. He'd been incapable of feeling anything but pain and fear and lust for revenge.

She went on to be the Hero. He went on to Kirkwall. More death, more destruction.

When he'd first joined the Inquisition, Leliana had mentioned her. But Solana had disappeared after the Blight. No one knew where she'd gone. The last time anyone had seen her had been at Queen Anora's inauguration, when the new queen had granted her a boon. Solana had shocked the hall by asking that the Circles be dissolved. Of course that hadn't happened. Anora had instead granted her land to rebuild the Grey Wardens.

Solana had accepted graciously, saying she first wished to travel for a time.

Then she'd disappeared.

Many said that she had gone to the Deep Roads, as Wardens were wont to do, that she had known nothing but fighting dark spawn, so that even after the Blight ended that was what she returned to.

Leliana had eventually also come around to that belief.

And yet… here she was.

He could remember all of those details, and yet he'd somehow forgotten just how striking she was. Her squared shoulders, her flaming hair, those lips, that skin…

Cullen collapsed into the chair beside the fire and hid his head in his hands.

Seeing her again had stirred up things deep inside him, things he hadn't ever expected to feel again.

But now she hated him.

He was just as hopeless as he'd ever been, but it had never felt this terrible.

Haven had changed a lot in the years since Solana had last been there. For one thing, no cultist villagers trying to kill her. That made a nice change. The town was mostly an encampment now. Rows of tents filled every spare space and it had a lively comradery. The exact comradery that had been missing at the Warden keep. But there was little place to be alone, and she needed to be alone. She wasn't accustomed to being around others anymore.

Not far outside the main gates, she found a small lake – frozen over – with a jetty that offered a good view of the surrounding area. She sat at the end of it and thought back on the last hour.

They wanted to make her Inquisitor.

She'd declined, several times.

"But you're the only one who can do this," Leliana had insisted. "We need someone who can unite everyone under one banner for the common good. You've done it before."

Exactly. She'd done it before. She'd done it when she'd been young and foolhardy and desperate. And she'd lost everything.

She twisted the ring on her finger. She also hadn't been vulnerable to the Calling.

She'd suggested to Leliana that the strapping man who everyone was suddenly worshiping be given the job. People seemed to listen to him.

Solana only wanted their assistance with the Grey Warden situation. Which they'd be happy to provide, on condition she could wait until they got rid of that hole in the sky.

Could she wait? Or would her blood summon her to the Deep Roads before they were ready? And what of the other Wardens? What of Falin and Cassey and the tranquil? Could they wait?

A noise behind her startled her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you."

Cullen.

She rose slowly to her feet. His eyes darted away from hers. His hands were perched on his sword hilt and she didn't know what to make of that.

The silence between them grew uncomfortable.

"Nice scar," she said to break it.

He touched his lip, his mouth twitched. "Oh, yes. That's new. Well… relatively speaking."

He was still struggling to look at her. Why had he approached her if he hadn't wanted to -

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he said softly.

His tone was unexpected. It brought back memories from before the abominations. He'd always been soft like that, and kind. Not like some of the other Templars.

When she didn't respond, his gaze flicked to hers again. "I wanted to… apologise."

"For what?"

He snorted, coming closer, gazing out at the lake, at his men training not far from where they stood. "Do you have to ask?" He glanced at her, then back out at the lake. "I was a different person the last time we saw each other. I wanted to assure you of that."

"You'd been tortured."

"Yes. And I'd seen things… corruptions… that I hadn't dreamed possible before. That doesn't excuse the things I said. Or the things I asked you to do. But I want you to know that I wouldn't… I'm not…" he wiped his face with his hand. "This sounded better in my head."

"You wanted me to know that you're not still seeking an opportunity to kill all mages?"

He seemed to turn a shade paler, which was impressive considering he was already almost as pale as the snowy backdrop behind him. He nodded. "You've heard we're allied with the mages now?"

"Don't tell me that was your idea?"

"It wasn't. But I… you're in no danger here. From me. Or anyone else. I mean, it's a good group of people."

"Did Leliana send you to try convince me to become the Inquisitor?"

"No. Although, if you think it might work, I'd be willing to give it a try?"

He offered her a smile, a smile that took her back years. It made her stomach clench. She'd forgotten that. What had happened at the Circle that dark day had erased everything that had come before.

"It won't."

"Tell me again what's happening with the Wardens?"

"They want to perform blood magic to raise an army of demons to attack the old Gods before they wake and prevent any future blights." That was the just of it, at any rate.

He blinked at her. "Blood magic, demons. Just like old times then?

She drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders as a chill wind swept up off the ice. "I preferred the last apocalypse. At least then we knew what we were facing."