Somewhere in a small, sheltered crevice of an icy mountain the party made camp. Avery stared into the fire as she picked at the roasted rabbit that Anon had killed, having quickly lost track of where the others had wondered off to. Anon and the Qunari proved themselves thick as thieves, disappearing into the woods amid low, growling whispers and quiet laughter, and then popping up back up eventually with various useful treasures and supplies. And the Seeker and the other mage… they'd stayed close at first, but now they were off doing their own thing, whatever that happened to be.
Avery realized she should probably be trying harder to make friends with them, especially considering that they shared a home with Cullen, and that the lot of them would be fighting side by side whenever trouble inevitably came to find them. But the letters had done something to her mood that she'd not anticipated, saddling her with a crushing guilt that she couldn't shake no matter how much she reminded herself of her and Cullen's new circumstances. It wasn't terribly surprising of course, and she was sure it wasn't what he intended when he gave her the letters, but it had caught her a bit by surprise. Still, she tried to embrace it, even as she reeled to regain some sort of emotional equilibrium. Surely the letters would eventually evolve into some kind of narrative of his departure from the Templars, his struggle with lyrium, and she desperately wanted that information. But the aftermath of their breakup would inevitably be included as well, and though it hurt desperately read it, she knew she needed to take the opportunity to be present with him in those moments, even if it came four years too late.
But then there was also the disorientation of trying to juggle the many places her heart was split between. A piece of it was trying, and mostly failing, to be there at camp, concentrating on the task ahead that would secure their future. Another piece was pulled back in time to the Kirkwall of days past, at a wound that still felt surprisingly raw and bloody under its ancient scab. And the largest piece of all wanted only to be back with Cullen at Skyhold, claiming the present and making up for all the pain they'd endured, all the vast tracts of lost time.
She hadn't rushed to the next letter when they'd made camp, trying first to extract herself from that fog of remorse that had settled over her like a sodden blanket, even as she knew the next one she read would likely plunge her right back in. But sitting by the fire and trying to eat, and doing so alone, wasn't helping either. Part of her wished she wasn't alone in that moment, that someone was close enough to provide her with some distraction. And yet another part of her glad to be out from under the annoyingly reverent eyes of her new companions.
So many parts and pieces of herself, scattered over time and space, and she wasn't quite sure how to put them all back together again.
She threw the remains of her uneaten dinner in the fire and looked around camp. Cassandra was no where to be found. One of the canvas tents was lit up with the soft glow that she recognized as magelight, and figured that must be Solas' tent. But clearly he too was content to busy himself with solitary activities. In the distance she was sure she heard the cackles and murmurs of the Iron Bull and Anon. Avery sighed as she pulled the portfolio back out of her pack, preparing herself for the next letter.
My darling,
Our ledge has been invaded. I tried to visit it this morning and almost trampled right over a sleeping homeless man. He was wearing the breeches and leather coat that you left for me in the trunk. I suppose it's good that he can get some use out of them, since we no longer can. With so many buildings condemned and continuing to crumble, the number of people living on the streets has multiplied immensely. The shelters can't keep up, and the residents who can afford to are choosing to emigrate, leaving the homes they vacate to become crime-ridden squatting grounds. I wonder if your apostate friend ever considered consequences such as this when he decided to blow up the Chantry and incite a war. These are not mages or Templars, but common people whose homes, businesses and lives have been completely destroyed. I wonder where your apostate friend is right now. Also if he is still your friend.
There is a healer here though who has been doing good work. She told me that she fought beside you in the Gallows and was there when you urged many remaining mages to return to Kirkwall to help those injured by the blast. Apparently you inspired her enough that she decided to stick around for as long as there were people in need, even though all her friends have fled the city. She set up in Anders' old clinic (yes, we know about the clinic) and has been doing what she can to help the refugees and victims, while I've been trying to keep the patrols out of her hair.
It was difficult to speak about you with her. I almost had to excuse myself after she told me that you chose to face down Meredith and the rest of the Order with only a fraction of your available numbers. I confess that it's made me very angry indeed, Avery. What if I hadn't been able to stop you from being killed by Meredith or another Templar? What if I'd had to watch you die because you foolishly, altruistically sent your army away? If you were here right now I would be yelling so many things at you. I can't believe you would endanger yourself like that. No, I can believe it. I believe it and I wholeheartedly disapprove of it. You'd better not be pulling any foolish stunts like that right now, Avery Hawke, wherever you are. You had better be alive right now or you will destroy me.
Even so, it can't be denied that many innocent people are alive right now because of that ridiculous and kind hearted move of yours. It's a shame so many of them now live in absolute squalor.
I miss you. I miss you so much I can barely take it. Please come home. Just let me see your face again, even if you don't speak to me. I can handle the cold shoulder, especially when the alternative is nothing at all.
Cullen
Avery dropped the hand that held the letter into her lap, sighing in relief. Him being angry strangely made her feel better. Anger was something she could deal with, something she was used to. In Kirkwall she'd routinely faced down people angry at her for one reason or another, and she knew from experience that it would have been easier and more useful for him, too.
She thanked the Maker for Fenris, for Varric. For ensuring that she was still alive. An imagining of Cullen learning the news of her perishing in the sea tried to creep into her mind, and she cringed hard against the memory, her body tensing as she squeezed her eyes shut and blotted out the thought. A whispered prayer spilled from her lips that he never need to know about that moment, or the time that came after. To think of him learning how close she had come to not being alive made her stomach heave. But what if he did know? What if that was one of the things mentioned by Cole? But wouldn't Cullen have raged at her if it was? He had certainly raged at those wooden dummies at the courtyard. Perhaps that was why.
Or maybe it was one of the things he said he just hadn't understood. She hoped, oh Maker how she hoped. What in the Void was this mystery, this blessed, beautiful mystery that Cole had inflicted upon her? She dropped her head into her hands, wondering if it would ever get any less disturbing that something so important had occurred completely outside of her own awareness and memory.
Maybe someday she would find this Cole, and learn exactly what it was that she couldn't remember. Or maybe it would be better for her to just be thankful, and let it all go. Time would tell, or so she hoped.
Her mind went next to Anders, whom she'd never stopped wondering about since their last moment in the Gallows, when he'd squeezed her arm before disappearing into a crowd of robed bodies. Over the years she'd spent a good deal of time imagining every sort of scenario that he might be living out, wherever he happened to be in the world. Maybe he was enjoying the high life somewhere, revered by mages far and wide as some morbid sort of freedom fighter, some honored 'breaker of chains'. Or perhaps, and probably more likely, he'd been shunned by his own kind. Other mages might not want to associate themselves with such a rabid insurrectionist, a man who further tarnished their already questionable image and brought even more wrath from the world down upon them. Not to mention the fact that he'd singlehandedly (well, not entirely single handed) turned so many of the freed mages into refugees themselves. Perhaps he was alone, in hiding, constantly running. Or maybe Sebastian had made good on his threat to hunt him down and kill him.
She wasn't surprised at the lack of emotion she felt in response to such an idea. Anders had sealed his own fate with that plan of his, one as carefully crafted and premeditated as anything she'd ever seen, and she knew he'd expected to die for it. Maybe being forced to live out the rest of his life constantly under threat of capture and death was exactly the penance he needed to pay. And maybe that wasn't even enough, after the suffering he'd put the innocents in Kirkwall through. She sighed. There was no way to know, though she would have welcomed information of his whereabouts. She was slowly coming to realize that the thing about getting herself lost in Thedas for so long was that even news she wanted to hear rarely seemed to find her. Maybe, if he was still alive, and she stayed in one place long enough, someday she might hear of him again.
She put the letter on the top of the pile, and slid out the next.
My love,
I hit a man today. He was bragging that he'd "fucked the Champion of Kirkwall ten ways from Sunday" whatever in the Void that even means. I know he was lying. I knocked out two of his teeth and one of them got lodged in my gauntlets and I can't get it out. Now the finger won't bend properly and so I must get a new pair. It's all pretty ridiculous. Of course I have to lie in the notes we keep on inventory, as "I punched a man who insulted my girlfriend" isn't exactly going to cut it. But I suppose that would have to be "ex-girlfriend" now anyway, wouldn't it? I don't like that.
I must admit that I feel a tremendous guilt that it's so easy for me to replace the things that get damaged in the course of my day to day life, when I am now constantly surrounded by people who are suffering for their inability to do the same. Kirkwall is an absolute mess, love. I hardly know how the walls are still standing. Part of me is very glad that you are not here to see it. I just know you'd be running yourself ragged trying to fix everyone's problems. But there are far too many problems for one person, far too much that is completely beyond repair.
This isn't exactly enlightening information, but I'm too overwhelmed to even know where to begin on all the details. I can say that my days are long and tedious, and I spend much of my time occupying my mind with thoughts of your lips, your fingers, your laugh. I find myself going back to that first kiss on the ledge regularly now, ever since the dream I had last week. I get caught between reliving what it was like to kiss you for the first time, and the fact of how completely uncharacteristic of me that was in the first place. I said to you once that it seemed like the hand of the Maker was involved in how often we see each other, and I am coming to believe that must have been the case that day on the ledge as well. I just wish I knew why he saw fit to bring us together, only to keep us apart. Maybe the Chantry sisters are right in that we are not to know his bigger vision. I suppose that just because I can't see it, it doesn't mean he doesn't have one. Maybe time will tell. Or maybe you were correct in your assessment that the Maker is simply cruel. There is so much I see every day that supports that notion. This most of all.
Where are you, Avery?
Cullen
Avery looked up just as Cassandra dropped into place beside her.
"May I join you?" came the clipped, accented voice.
Avery nodded and flashed a shy grin as she discretely slid the last letter back into the portfolio, and set the whole thing next to her pack. This letter too was not as difficult to handle, and she felt that she was breathing a little easier than when they'd first arrived at camp. Cullen's words rang through her mind, and a part of her searched through the threads of time, seeking the consequences of their affair that might elucidate such an unlikely, divine plan. But her attempt was half-hearted. She was tired, physically and emotionally, and now that distraction she'd wished for earlier had come.
"So… I knew that you and Cullen were in Kirkwall at the same time, but I had no idea you two… knew each other," Cassandra began. In her lap was a book, the spine facing away from Avery so she could not read the title. Cassandra noticed her looking and laid her arms over it self-consciously.
"At least I am assuming that you did. Seeing as how you just arrived in Skyhold and then… well, this morning… That is not the behavior of two people just getting to know one another. He even called you 'love'. I've never expected to see such a display of affection from him with anyone."
"Yes, we did know each other," Avery confessed with an easy shrug. What point was there in keeping secrets now?
Cassandra smiled an unexpectedly large smile, her face lighting up with the glow of the fire.
"The apostate Champion and the Knight-Captain of the Order? That is scandalous. I am surprised Varric left that out of his 'Tale of the Champion'," she said. "Or perhaps he is saving it for its own book."
"Varric didn't know until very recently. Yesterday actually. No one knew."
The Seeker's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh. Of course. That makes sense. It would have been too risky for people to know," she agreed. "But that is a very long time to keep a secret."
Avery nodded. Maker it felt good to just be open about it. The weight of years worth of lies seemed to just melt away, and for a moment all Avery felt was the bright, uplifting joy of the knowledge that her love was waiting for her that very second, ready to welcome her back whenever they returned to Skyhold.
"You have been in touch all this time?" Cassandra asked, her eyes darkening momentarily.
"No. We were not."
Cassandra nodded, going soft again. "You know I was searching for you, I'm sure Varric told you that. I met and recruited Cullen into the Inquisition when I was in Kirkwall, but it was you that I was really after. I was hoping that you might lead us. Varric insisted that he had no knowledge of your whereabouts and Cullen pretended like he did not know you personally at all," she said. "But later on he said a few things about the Champion that made me suspect that he hadn't been telling the truth on that matter. And now that I know this… well it explains quite a lot."
Avery laughed, "does it?"
"I'll spare him the embarrassment of going into details. He can tell you those himself if he wishes you to have them," she said seriously. Avery was a little disappointed. Perhaps whatever she was referring to would be mentioned in the letters. But his recruitment probably wouldn't be brought up until much later, probably not until the very end of the stack. She still had a long way to go. Avery sighed wistfully.
"So, you know him well then? He said he trusts you to… intervene if the whole lyrium thing becomes a problem?" Avery asked tentatively, hoping it wasn't too soon to try to ingratiate herself into the Seeker's confidence. But then she'd just confirmed the biggest secret of her life with Cassandra, more easily than she'd ever told anyone. That it was no longer an actual secret was just incidental.
"That is correct," she said, somewhat uncomfortably. Avery pressed on anyway.
"Is it a problem? He says the Inquisitor wants him to start taking it again."
Cassandra sighed, her lips drawing down into a pensive frown. "The answer to that is not an easy one. I asked Cullen to join the Inquisition because I recognized a strength in him right away, of both mind and body. He genuinely wants to be free of the Order and all of its entrapments and I believe that his sincere desire to quit lyrium will be the key to his success," she said, and then paused. " He has a chance to do something no Templar has done before and he has my full support. He can do it, I know he can. But…" she sighed, "there is no question that it has caused problems. He does suffer, and it reflects in his behavior and his health at times. And Mahanon does not have the patience or compassion for Cullen's struggle that I and the others do. He does not believe that now is the right time for Cullen to make this attempt, that there are too many other, more important issues at hand and Cullen not taking lyrium only adds to them. And the truth is that Mahanon is correct on that point, at least partially." Cassandra's frown deepened as she looked down at her feet. "When Cullen came to me a month ago and asked me to find a replacement for him, I told him I did not believe a replacement was necessary and I still don't. And Cullen will continue to have my support until I am given a compelling reason to change my mind. But because I spend so much of my time out in the field with Mahanon, I have begun to worry that maybe I don't actually see everything Cullen goes through. If he is suffering too much… maybe it would be better to try another time, when there is not so much already on his shoulders."
Avery nodded, looking around the camp for the Inquisitor or the Qunari, but she did not see or hear either of them. They must have wandered away pretty far. Or they were close by and listening. The elf obviously excelled in the arts of stealth, and he'd probably be quite interested in this conversation.
"But, at the same time," Cassandra continued, "Cullen has already gotten through the most critical part of the withdrawal and it seems cruel to snatch that progress away from him now. It is a difficult situation for every one of us."
Avery swallowed hard as she watched the dancing flames flicker and crackle before them. The thought of Cullen suffering never sat well with her, indeed from the very first moment at the ledge she found herself overcome with the urge to help him however she could, to soothe all his troubles. It wasn't hard to see all sides of the equation as Cassandra had presented them, but the point that stood out the most was the same thing she'd already thought when Cullen had told her what he did during the bath: he'd already made so much progress. To make him take lyrium again meant he'd eventually have to start all over.
"You love him?" Cassandra asked.
Avery nodded, "very much."
"Will you help me? I know we have only just met. But I know of you, I know that you help people that need it. I don't know what is going to happen when we finish at Crestwood, but I assume you'll return to Skyhold and want to stay with Cullen whenever possible. Is that correct?"
Avery nodded again, "yes. If I am allowed to stay, then I will."
"Good. I have been able to convince Mahanon to give Cullen more time thus far. If you are willing, perhaps you will be my eyes whenever we are away? Help me fill in the gaps? At least I'll know that if you have serious concerns too, that I should really consider Cullen's request for a replacement. I would personally rather do that than force him to take lyrium against his wishes."
"Of course I'll help," Avery said quickly. "Of course."
"Excellent. That is a relief. I also suspect that with you there now, his burdens might be lessened considerably," Cassandra said with a new lightness to her voice. "Love is a powerful healer."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Avery,
Today I especially miss that little freckle just under your lower lip. And the one beside your left eyebrow, the one that raises about a half a centimeter when you're surprised or laughing really hard. And I miss that little crescent moon scar that's carved into your hair above your ear. I always meant to ask you how you got that, but usually by the time I was inspecting your body close enough to be reminded of it, there were other, more pressing matters to attend to.
Did you know that you have a little mole on your buttocks? On the right cheek, just on the underside of that delicious curve, right before it meets the back of your thigh. I've kissed it before. Many times, actually, but I don't think you knew what I was doing. It made me wonder what sort of things I have in places that I can't see. For all I know the image of Andraste herself is emblazoned onto my back, though I'm sure you might have mentioned if that was the case.
I miss that mole. I miss your freckles. I miss the way you bite the side of your lip when you're trying to make a decision. I miss how expressive your eyebrows are. Especially when you're joking or teasing. Do you do that on purpose, or does it just come naturally? You could say a hundred different things with your eyebrows alone, including make an entire joke with just a look. That is such a strange thing to miss, but it's just so you. I miss the way you kiss me, as though it's the most important thing in the world to be doing and it deserves every ounce of your attention. Did I kiss you like that? I hope I did.
I miss you. This is killing me. Please come home.
Forever yours,
Cullen
Avery,
Construction finally finished on a new Chantry. It's really just a temporary building, but at least it's solid. The sisters needed a better accommodation than the tent they've been using for the last five months. I spent a good deal of time there today. I remember you said that you weren't particularly faithful, and in truth I have really begun to struggle with my own as of late. I am trying to believe that the Maker has a reason for all this, that the work I do is important, and most of all that someday he might help you find your way back to me. Or at least convince you to send me a damned letter already. But despite my recent struggles, I discovered that I do still find comfort kneeling in prayer, in the quiet candlelight and the familiar smell of incense, and even in pieces of that insufferable Chant of Light.
I prayed for you. I prayed that you are safe wherever you are, and that you are happy. I confess I have wondered a little bit about you and your elf friend recently. He always seemed an intense sort, and very devoted to you. Are you still traveling together? Are you finding your own comfort in his arms? I don't know how anyone could get to spend their days by your side and not love you. I envy him. And I prayed for him too today, that he always have the strength to keep you safe.
Please come home.
Cullen
