AN: Y'know what, the dialogue is going to be different. Because I don't remember it and I'm not quite that invested in scripting the interactions. It's more fun if it's a bit different. The important thing is, THEY STILL GET THERE IN THE END!
Still waiting for a Cullen to arrive on my front door.
Disclaimer:
I own nothing you recognise. This is all completely un-beta'd and totally fresh off the top of my brain!
People begin trickling in to Haven, inspired by the Herald or rescued by her. Many of them are not fighters. Many young and old, a mishmash of abilities and professions. They bring news of her deeds, and for that, they are all glad for it. When Master Dennet and his entire stabling of fine Ferelden steeds arrive, they cheer. Cullen puts his face in his hands and wonders how they will feed so many horses. It was kind of her to at least convince the good Master to assist with their efforts.
They stop by after their trip to Val Royeaux. The Lord Seeker, Cassandra confirms, has gone mad. Nikolai mutters something very unsavoury under her breath. There are new additions to the Herald's forward team, a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall and a perplexing elf named Sera. They depart with her when they lead out to Redcliffe and the mages.
They stumble back, weeks later, on the heels of the rebel mages from Redcliff. The party is hale and healthy and in high spirits. Varric cheerfully totters off to drink with Sera. Cassandra had sent a warning ahead of time, so he could stew on the Herald's decision. Free mages, and enough for an army, walking right into Haven! He likes it even less now that he can see them pouring in.
But when he catches her eyes he stops his forward march. She is silent atop her horse, hunched and hallowed as he has not seen her before. Haunted eyes and a desperate grip on the reins. Only one other in the party holds a similar look. The Tevinter. She gives Cullen a precarious smile before turning back to the Tevinter. The moment they dismount, she takes the Magister's elbow and guides him off, out of sight.
"Leave them be," Cassandra says, catching up with him before he can follow. "She needs the drink more than you need to yell at her."
That doesn't stop him from barging in on her the next day while she clutches her head and grimaces at him. He yells at her then, for scaring him, for scaring the town, for freeing the mages to exist without Templar support and oversight. She lets him for a few minutes before she stands up and snaps back.
"By Mythal, you did not see what he had wrought!" she howls, fists tight against her sides. "I will not alienate allies we sorely need to prevent that future." She turns away, then, hand thrust into her short hair. "The Inquisition needs them, Ser Cullen, to prevent all that was from coming to pass."
It takes the wind right out of his sails. He deflates, seeing her tired and bruised. Still the haunted look.
"What happened?" he asks, more gently now. She turns back to him, arms at her sides, once again unwavering and strong.
"I would not speak of it at this time," she replies. "If you would excuse me, I have other matters to attend." She brushes past him, legs stiff and shoulders taut.
He lets her go.
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