Chapter 7: The Viper's Nest

Haven, Cloudreach 28, Dragon 9:41

In the Herald's absence, tensions between the mages and Templars remained high. Roderick, true to form, continued to stir things up whenever he could, although Cullen noticed he was being much stealthier about his pot stirring. Perhaps the Chancellor had the good sense to actually fear the Herald's wrath. Despite Roderick's best efforts, Cullen managed to keep the two groups from coming to blows. This, however, took its toll on his already low threshold for nonsense. The continued and intense vitriol flung between the two factions often confounded him to the point that he'd have to spend at least an hour each evening systematically destroying a training dummy in the yard.

When he wasn't breaking up fights, scolding Mages and Templars for bad behavior, or sifting through intelligence reports, he continued to train the recruits which he was extremely grateful for. Training took his mind off the Mage-Templar divide as well as his lingering and ever increasingly inappropriate thoughts about the Herald. He found this, more than anything, the most exasperating. They were in the middle of a war and he was behaving like a Knight-recruit.

Since the Herald's successful trip to the Hinterlands, the Inquisition's army had nearly doubled in size. Although not large, it was, in his opinion, adequate to keep the peace should he need to use it in such a fashion. Cullen quietly hoped it wouldn't come to that, though, after all he'd experienced as a templar, he knew better. Trouble would rear its ugly head soon enough and they must be ready for anything.

On Bloomingtide 10, a full month and four days after the Herald left, a raven arrived from one of Leliana's agents with news from Val Royeaux. The Nightingale summoned both he and Josephine to the war room to disseminate the news and discuss their next course of action. As Cullen suspected, the scout's summary of the event did not bode well for their fledgling organization.

"Apparently, as the Herald arrived, the Revered Mothers were in the process of shouting down the Inquisition from a dais set up in the Summer Market," Leliana began in a somber tone, "When Lady Trevelyan tried to reason with them, they open mocked and derided her, calling her a false prophet and a maleficar."

Flipping over the missive, she added, "If that were not already bad enough, Lord Seeker Lucius appeared moments later with what remained of Templar Order in tow. He, too, derided the Herald and the Inquisition and then announced the Templars were splitting off from the Chantry immediately."

"But why would the Templars just leave the Chantry?" Josephine asked, clearly horrified by the notion.

Leliana shook her head, handing her the scout's report, "It would appear Lord Seeker Lucius deemed the Chantry unworthy of the Templar's continued support."

"I have to grudgingly agree with him there," Cullen snorted. When both Josephine and Leliana turned to stare at him with a look of disbelief, he shrugged, "Let's be honest, the Chantry has made a dismal mess of things since the Divine's murder."

"That is no reason to completely abandon the Chantry," Leliana argued.

"On what grounds did the dear Lord Seeker site his authority to do so?" Josephine asked suddenly, handing the report back to Leliana.

Leliana shuffled through her stack of papers and, after a moment, retrieved the one she'd been looking for, "He claims that when the Chantry refused to quell the mage uprising, they broke the Nevarran accord."

"Maker have mercy," Josephine whispered.

"I can't say I'm terribly surprised," Cullen admitted, "I told you this would be for naught. It would seem everyone in a position of authority across the whole of Thedas has succumbed to madness."

He leveled a mild look at Leliana, which implied 'I told you so' before dropping his gaze to the extremely large map on the table before them. Leliana said nothing in return. Instead, she braced her right elbow on her left hand, her hand propped up under her nose in a thoughtful gesture as she considered the various markers spread across the parchment.

Josephine, whose quill had been rapidly scratching away across her parchment during their brief exchange, now paused as though something occurred to her. She made a thoughtful noise and looked up to say, "This business with the Lord Seeker is highly irregular, is it not?"

"Indeed," Leliana agreed, her voice sounding far away, "Where could they be going, I wonder?"

"We shall see," Cullen said mysteriously, his eyes focused on a point in eastern Ferelden, "But for now, we must consider our next move."

"Yes, of course," Josephine agreed, humming as she held the feathered tip of her quill to her chin, her lips pursed in thought as she studied her notes. Leliana shuffled through a few reports, shaking her head as she continued to sift through more bad news while Cullen continued to scrutinize the map.

Finally, Cullen spoke, "Clearly we haven't done enough to earn the Templar's respect. I suggest we shore up more support and extend an invitation to the Lord Seeker."

"Mm," Josephine murmured, "That would be a wise course of action. In the wake of the events of the Summer Market, I have already received several letters from my contacts in Orlais who've expressed interest in bring the Templars back under Chantry supervision. Many of the devout nobles are deeply troubled."

"We should also not discount the Mages," Leliana reminded them, "we know they are based nearby in Redcliff village at this very moment. It would take little time to reach and entreat with them."

Cullen sighed in frustration, "I still believe the Templars would be a far safer option."

"We do not even know where they are," Leliana reminded him pointedly. He met her gaze with intensity and they glowered at one another for only a few moments before Josephine quietly scolded them for quarreling.

"We shall see what the Herald thinks when she returns," Leliana said with an air of finality, clearly signaling they should table the discussion for now.

The Herald and her party returned to Haven at midday of Justinian 8, a full month after the Summer Market incident. Cassandra seemed at once surprised and annoyed Leliana's agents had already reported the outcome of their meeting. From the way the Herald remained reserved, almost withdrawn, Cullen could sense the events of what transpired in Val Royeaux weighed heavily upon her. Perhaps I should try to talking to her when our meeting is adjourned, he thought.

As the advisors, Cassandra, and the Herald made their way to the war room, the Seeker began to explain that the trip was not a complete loss. The Herald had managed to recruit two new members whom she'd met during their brief stay in Val Royeaux, the first of whom was Madame Vivienne de Fer. Leliana said she was familiar with the mage and courtier, stating the woman had been the First Enchanter of the Montsimmard Circle for quite some time.

Cassandra explained how Vivienne had graciously offered her services in both magic and navigating the often complex nature of the Orlesian nobility. To say Cullen was immediately suspicious of the Orlesian courtier's motives was an understatement. Nobility rarely did anything that didn't immediately benefit them in some way. He decided he'd provide Mnemyn some friendly advice regarding the First Enchanter's motives just in case she had not yet seen them.

Also accompanying the Herald was a Ferelden city elf named Sera who had a foul mouth and a bad attitude to match. Mnemyn informed them that the young woman was extremely good with a bow and Cullen supposed they couldn't be terribly picky about help when it was offered. Though from the moment he laid eyes on her, Cullen could tell that Sera would be problematic at best.

The irony of how these two women could not be any more diametrically opposed to one another in both personality but station was not lost on Cullen. And, judging by the way Sera was shooting glares at Vivienne or making rude gestures at the mage when her back was turned, it seemed they'd gotten off to a wonderful start. Vivienne, on the other hand, was aloofly pretending as if Sera didn't exist which, he had to admit, probably was the best option for harmonious coexistence between them.

The good fortune of two new followers would do little for the mood in the war room, however, as the argument over whom the Inquisition should seek help in closing the Breach erupted anew. Though this time the advisors were much more passionately arguing with one another as they'd had ample time antagonize each other in Mnemyn's absence.

Sensing the underpinnings of animosity growing, Mnemyn wisely suggested each advisor present their viewpoint and to frankly air any reservations they might have. She listened patiently to all three of them in turn and, afterwards, she carefully considered their arguments. After deliberating for some minutes, she spoke up, "From a tactical point of view, I believe the mages in Redcliff are our best hope for closing the Breach. We know where they are and thus it should take little time to bring them here once I've convinced them to join our cause."

Cullen let out a sigh of frustration. He could see Leliana and Josephine seemed pleased with the Herald's decision. There seemed to be no changing her mind, either. Cullen resigned himself to hoping the Mages would not ally with the Inquisition due to it being born from the Chantry. Perhaps then the Herald would see reason and approach the Templars.

"Mark my words, this will end in folly," Cullen said darkly as the meeting adjourned.

As the senior members of the Inquisition filed out of the war room, Mnemyn found herself without something better to do. It would be at least two days while the supplies for their next trip were being prepared. Soon, she found herself drawn into polite conversation with Mother Giselle regarding the fate of the pilgrims and people affected or displaced by the chaos the Breach had caused. Several feet away, Madame de Fer gossiped with a pair of visiting Orlesian nobles; the trio watching the Herald with great interest.

Cullen also stood nearby with Cassandra where he was discussing the finer details of the last two missions. Concerned for she and her team's safety, he'd been asking Cassandra's opinion of the Herald's abilities on the field of battle. As of late, he'd wondered how they'd fared and reasoned he could provide the Herald additional training should she require it.

"She is a very capable mage," Cassandra replied quietly, "Quick on her feet, cautious, and has a near preternatural sense of the flow of battle."

Cullen nodded, briefly casting an appreciative glance in Mnemyn's direction. He knew the Seeker to be a very shrewd, brutally honest woman and, thus, she would never sugar coat anything. So if she said the Herald's skills were impressive, they were just that. Nodding, he turned back to Cassandra and asked, "Any problems?"

"Nothing of note," Cassandra replied, "She is very well tempered and has strived to get along with everyone, myself included."

As the Seeker and Commander were speaking, Varric, who had been discussing something with Josephine in her office, stepped into the hall. Mnemyn, who was now saying her goodbyes to Mother Giselle, turned to see him.

"Varric," Mnemyn called out as he strolled by.

"Oh hello, Herald," he grinned, "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you happened to be going to the blacksmith?" When all Varric gave her was a confused look in return, Mnemyn elaborated, "I'd feel better walking through the camp with a companion."

As soon as she'd spoken, she immediately regretted it. Vivienne had overheard her and simpered, "My, what a well behaved circle mage you are, my darling! I feel I should write to your First Enchanter and applaud your manners, your circle did such a fine job raising such a polite and well behaved mage."

Vivienne's overloud commentary immediately piqued both Cullen and Cassandra's attention and they both turned to see how Mnemyn would react. It was clear even from where Cullen stood that the Herald was deeply embarrassed by the First Enchanter's remarks. But instead of arguing, she remained silent, folding her hands in front of her while smiling tightly at the senior mage.

Cullen let out a heavy sigh; he hated how nobles treated people. It seemed to him they only lived to tear each other – and everyone else for that matter – down at every possible opportunity, most often just for the fun of it. Deciding the Herald's honor needed defending, he murmured a hasty goodbye to Cassandra and strode over to stand beside Mnemyn.

"Did I hear you say you wished to pay the blacksmith a visit, Lady Trevelyan?" he asked kindly, putting particular emphasis on the Herald's noble name while shooting Madame de Fer a positively virulent glare.

Mnemyn started at his sudden appearance but recovered quickly, "Why yes, Commander, I did."

"I happen to need to speak to Herritt about a repair," he explained, offering his arm, "Perhaps you'll allow me to accompany you?"

She smiled gratefully and slipped her arm through his before striding out of the Chantry beside him. As they stepped into the bright morning light, he paused to glance back at the small furor he'd caused. He grinned as he saw an angry Cassandra pull Vivienne off into an alcove, presumably to scold her for her poor behavior. He heard Mnemyn gasp in surprise and looked down at her with a smirk, feeling quite pleased with himself. A look of discomfort settled across her features and the usually unsinkable mage gingerly unlinked her arm from his, dropping her hand to her side while giving him a mildly pained smile in return.

He stared at her in surprise, wondering what he'd done to upset her but, before he could ask, she spoke up softly, "Thank you for the rescue, Commander. I do appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure," he returned, strolling at somewhat leisurely pace toward the blacksmith. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the first grouping of houses and he paused, turning to her, "Have you been having any trouble adjusting to life outside the Circle, Your Worship?"

She stopped abruptly, staring uncomfortably at something over his shoulder. When she did not answer right away, he gently leaned into her field of vision and smiled kindly. He watched as her brows knit together, a look of uneasiness returning once more to her delicate features. Trying to reassure her, he said, "T'is a perfectly natural thing, my lady. You've lived your entire life in the confines of the circle. I myself have days in which I struggle with it."

"Truly?" she replied, clearly more than slightly surprised by his answer.

He nodded, smiling gently, "You needn't have an escort while in camp, you are the Herald after all."

She seemed conflicted, pursing her lips as her gaze fell to the ground. She was studying his boots with great intent when Cullen recalled an earlier discussion they'd had not long after she'd woken, in which he'd expressed his sentiment that mages should not be wandering willy-nilly through the camp. I need to remember to not run at the mouth about mages in her presence. What she must think of me? he thought ruefully as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Has this to do with our conversation shortly after we met, my lady?"

"I—er, well," she said, looking even more uncomfortable than before.

He sighed heavily and looked her straight in the eyes, "Forgive me, that comment was unworthy of me. Although, as an aside, I'll admit I often forget that you are a mage."

A smirk spread across her lips now and she quipped, "I shall remember you said that, Commander."

"Maker's breath," he groused playfully with a smile, "I'm sure you will."

They resumed walking and, after a few moments of awkward silence, he said, "You shouldn't let her treat you that way, by the by."

"She's a First Enchanter—"

"And a damned busybody," Cullen insisted, cutting her off as soon as he saw her reasoning. "Further, she's not your First Enchanter, so you shouldn't give a fig what she says."

She regarded him in amused silence for a few beats before answering, "I shall take that under advisement, Commander."

He grinned lopsidedly and motioned to the path ahead, "Shall we?"

She nodded and they continued along the path past the residences and toward the gate which led to the training yard and the blacksmith beyond.

"You…seemed upset when you arrived today," Cullen began hesitantly, "Is everything all right?"

"This business with the Templars is deeply troubling," she admitted quietly. "I feel like the pillars of the Chantry are crumbling from beneath it, Cullen."

"I don't know what brought Lord Seeker Lucius to this ridiculous course of action," he replied, stopping to turn and look at her, "but I can tell you, I know my peers from the Order. Many are likely questioning his sanity or, at the very least, regretting they followed him. If we can find them and make contact, I know you could convince them to join us."

"You really have so much faith in me?"

"I do," he admitted.

They lapsed into an awkward silence as they continued the last dozen or so steps to the blacksmith and, when they arrived, Cullen quietly excused himself to discuss his repair with Herritt. As he did so, Mnemyn amused herself by leafing through the book of schematics she'd helped the Inquisition accumulate. Several minutes later, his business concluded, Cullen appeared at her side, curious as to what she was doing.

He was impressed to find she was examining a new coat pattern, scrutinizing it rather intently in fact, and Cullen imagined she was trying to determine if it had enough pockets for potions and reagents. He couldn't help notice the way she' d twitched her mouth to the side as she weighed pros and cons of the new piece. He had to admit, this little quirk was rather adorable.

"May I make a suggestion, my lady?" he offered in a low tone.

She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, she started slightly at hearing his voice so close to her. Nevertheless, she recovered quickly and cast an interested look over her shoulder at him with a genial smile, "Of course."

"You may find this may suit your needs better," he replied, reaching past her to flip to a different schematic, pointing to the new drawing of a shorter, armored buff-jacket, "This will give you greater range of motion with your staff."

He drew her attention to the stylized breastplate, pauldrons, rerebraces, and gauntlets, "With an added benefit of armoring to protect you against things like thrown knives and arrows."

"How do you know so much—" she blushed, realizing the answer before she finished her query, "forgive me, I've apparently forgotten you were a templar, Commander."

"And I," Cullen retorted dryly, recalling her smart remark just moments ago, "shall endeavor to remember that, my lady."

She laughed softly, a sweet, tinkling sound, while her gaze lingered on him for what seemed like forever. Cullen felt himself sweating while his heart thundered in his chest. He also felt his cheeks burning crimson but, somehow, he managed a somewhat awkward smile When she finally returned to perusing the new design, pursing her lips as she considered the new drawing, Cullen let out the breath he'd been holding.

His hand still rested near the edge of the drawing and, as she bent to observe a particular detail, her left hand came to rest gently on his own. He stared at their hands, her touch sending chills sparking across his skin. Surprised, he sucked in a breath, which caused her to turn toward him, a look of concern writ across her face, "Are you quite all right, Commander?"

"Yes, I—" he felt his mouth suddenly go dry and nervously reached to rub the back of his neck with his free hand, "it was a chill, nothing more."

She nodded, although her concerned gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she turned back to the page. Nodding a second time, as though she'd decided something, she turned to smile at him and said, "I think this shall do splendidly. Thank you, Cullen."

His blush deepened at her use of his name and he mumbled, "I, uh, should return to my duties."

A look of what he thought was disappointment briefly flickered across her features before she smiled genially, "Of course."

He took a few slow steps backward and then turned to leave. As he did so, he nearly tripped over Varric who stood leaning against the stone fence which surrounded the blacksmith. Immediately Cullen noticed the dwarf was smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary and groaned inwardly. This will not end well, he thought sourly as he sidestepped Messere Tethras. Before departing, he shot Varric a dirty look and then marched off toward the training yard in a huff.

Meanwhile, much to Varric's dismay, Mnemyn hadn't noticed he and Cullen's brief but amusing exchange because she was already chatting excitedly with Herritt about new armor. As he waited patiently for her to conclude her business, Varric returned to leaning against a stone pillar while humming tunelessly to himself.

As the Herald turned to leave, she stopped short when caught sight of him, clearly confused by his presence, "Varric?"

"Hello, Herald," the dwarf in question returned smoothly.

"I thought you didn't need to visit the 'smithy?" she asked.

"Oh I didn't," he said mysteriously, pushing off the wall to fall into step beside her. He glanced toward the training yard where Cullen was doing his best not to look at them, "I thought I'd see how you and Curly were getting on."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly not understanding whom he was referencing, and so Varric explained, "Our esteemed Commander Cullen."

Mnemyn was now staring at Varric as if he'd grown a second head. He chuckled and explained, "Ah that's right, you haven't had the pleasure of seeing that particular characteristic the Commander's just yet. I won't spoil the surprise."

He watched as her eyebrows inched ever closer to her hairline, a look of confusion in her eyes, "Thanks, I guess?"

Varric grinned wider still, "So, you and Cullen seem to be very close these days…"

A deep scarlet blush spread across her cheeks and all the way up to the tips of her ears. Varric's grin widened at this and she said quickly in a low tone, "I don't know what you mean, Messere Tethras."

"Oh come now, Herald, there's nothing to be ashamed of," Varric soothed, "we're all adults here."

She gave him a rather owlish look and insisted nervously, "It's not like that. Really."

"Could've fooled me," Varric said with a shrug. When she remained silent, he added, "You know, I've known Curly for a few years. He's a good sort, if a bit stiff at times."

She blanched, turning toward him and blurted out, "You're not going to say something, are you?"

"Me? Never," Varric replied smoothly, trying his best to affect a look of sincerity and earnestness. Oh this is great, he thought to himself, not only did she just more or less admit she's in love with him, she knows he doesn't know she has the hots for him.

This seemed to puzzle her, and she scrutinized him with a suspicious look as she asked, "Then why bring it up?"

He stopped, looking at her and said very frankly, "We've all got our little quirks, I suppose. Mine happens to be making sure my friends are happy. And you, my dear Herald, deserve more than anyone to be happy. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted.

"I say if the Commander does it for you, go for it," he insisted, grinning broadly. They'd reached the crest of the incline that led up to the leadership's residences, coming to a stop not far from the spot Varric had been camping. Mnemyn watched him warily as he made his way to stand near the campfire, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Uhm, thanks," she replied, clearly embarrassed. She shuffled from foot to foot for a moment before hooking her thumb over her shoulder, "I'm just, yeah… I'll see you at supper, Varric."

And with that, she tore off in the direction of the Chantry at a quick pace. He chuckled to himself, Humans can sure make shit harder than it has to be sometimes.