Chapter 9
"Fairbanks received a letter this morning from his men in the Emerald Graves. They spotted the Inquisitor being handed over to Samson." Leliana declared, a triumphant smile on her lips. "They saw her alive, this is good news."
Cullen clenched his fists at the name. I'd hardly call that good news. Maker, when I get my hands on him… "We have soldiers stationed in the area. Why didn't they or Fairbanks' men try to intervene?"
"That was per your orders, Commander." Rylen laid a missive down on the war table and pushed it across.
The familiar words nearly jumped off the page, smacking him with the irony. Cullen recognized the memo sent to every officer and read to all the Inquisition, written in his own hand.
I want this made clear to every man and woman in our army: do not challenge the red templars' leader, General Samson, on your own.
You may have heard stories of how Samson used to be a templar in Kirkwall until he was thrown out of the Order, that he became a vagrant begging for coin to buy lyrium. That man no longer exists. The fiend who attacked us at Haven had the strength of a dozen men. Samson has the training of a templar and all the power of red lyrium at his command. For those who did not see it firsthand, he is as dangerous as any demon. Perhaps worse. Treat him as such.
I will hold personally accountable any officers who do not communicate this order to their soldiers.
"Due to the march towards the Arbor Wilds, they didn't have the manpower," Rylen added.
Cullen's mind went blank as his own words came back to haunt him. Maker's breath, Evelyn is with Samson because of my own instruction. He leaned forward, balancing himself on the war table, sick with self-loathing. "What- what information did we obtain from the prisoner?" he asked in a low voice, rubbing the stubble on his jaw.
"The correspondence we received from Crestwood, Jader, and Lydes were deliberate decoys, sent to exhaust the Inquisition's remaining resources while we looked in the wrong direction."
In other words, a complete waste of time.
"The stolen Templar uniform was how they got Evelyn out of Skyhold. When the contingent left for the Arbor Wilds under orders, she was taken with. Based on that and the clues she provided when Solas visited her, coupled with her most recent sighting, we believe she was moved from Sahrnia to the Graves and that they are heading toward the Temple."
Evelyn's words resounded in Cullen's head. Up is down and dark is light. Whose is it? Mine! No, not mine. So Cold. A sword in flames .
Arguing templars, the cold weather, Sahrnia makes sense. I should have seen that.
Life isn't red, but green... no more frozen water assaults.
Isn't red, as in no more red lyrium, Emprise du Lion is swarming with it. The green of the Emerald Graves. She was telling us where she was going. We could already be a third of the way by now. Cullen fell further into hopelessness at his own incompetence. "And what of Tristan?" He swallowed the lump in his throat, bracing himself for the answer he was positive he would receive, yet didn't want to hear.
"Dead." Leliana's stoicism plastered her features. "Believe me, he gave up all the information he possessed."
Cullen shook his head. He was a traitor, he deserved to die. Though he knew it to be true, he also understood that as the man who gave the order, the blood was on his hands. Even in Kinloch, Cullen never relished in the kills, he always swung his sword with a heavy heart and that hadn't changed over the years. It was never a small feat to take a man's life. To watch as the glimmer of light in even the darkest eyes faded as they took their final breath. Confident he was justified in his decision, a part of Cullen felt sorry and wished it hadn't been necessary.
Despite his propensity towards evil, Tristan was still someone's relation. A brother, a son, a husband, a friend… Not only did his death stain Cullen's soul, but the hurt those who loved Tristan endured because of his passing was Cullen's fault too.
But Evelyn may be saved because of it. Cullen took a deep breath, keeping the thought fixed in his mind, hoping it would ease his guilt some day.
"Per Tristan, the Temple is where she will be handed to Corypheus. Apparently, they thought that by turning her over, Corypheus would abandon the Arbor Wilds, no longer in need of the eluvian he seeks because of the Inquisitor's mark. He can force her to open the fade for him, no mirror needed." Leliana explained.
"Technically, preventing an attack on the Temple would indeed compromise Corypheus' current plan, though more in his favor than ours." Josephine took notes on her clipboard and gaped at the revelation.
"It would seem," Rylen sighed, sending a sympathetic look towards Cullen, "the Templar offenders in question were given sanction."
"By whom?" Cullen demanded. Who would have that authority?
"By you," Leliana stated matter of factly, swaying heel to toe with her hands behind her back.
By me? Cullen thought in disbelief as his mind flitted to the unknown templar in his debriefing when he gave the directive. Understand the Inquisition needs to impede the advance of Samson and Corypheus. You possess sanction to use any means necessary to ensure it. "Maker, I- that isn't what I meant!" Cullen rubbed his neck, stretching his muscles. Forgive me Evie.
Rylen cleared his throat regaining the attention of the room. "Now that we have a confirmed location, we will leave with the remainder of the troops in two hours."
Two hours? We are already behind. "Absolutely not. That is time we do not have." A renewed sense of fire burned within Cullen's chest. It was a solid lead, and he now had purpose. "I will venture forward with some of the inner circle. I'll not wait any longer." Cullen turned on his heel and strode to the exit. "We've stood idle, now we pursue."
"Commander! That is unwise, you need more than three people!" Josephine called after him.
"She never does." Cullen waved his hand dismissively before pushing open the door.
As he passed through the Ambassador's office, he gave word to a nearby scout. "Inform Lady Cassandra, The Iron Bull, and Dorian, we depart in ten. We have a lead on the Inquisitor's whereabouts."
"When would you be put into a position where you had to leave on a moment's notice?" Evelyn ruffled through Cullen's packed bag dumping the contents out on his desk.
"It may never happen. It's a cautionary measure, nothing more." Cullen offered. "Everyone among the inner circle should have one."
"You have everything here: potions, rations, spare clothes, extra coin, rope, lockpicks?" Evelyn quirked her eyebrow. "Really Commander, you have lockpicks?"
"It isn't my area of expertise, but the idea has merit. Someone could put them to use."
"You don't think this is all a bit excessive?"
"No, it's necessary." Cullen insisted. "It never hurts to be prepared, Inquisitor."
Evelyn sighed as she replaced all the items she spilled. "I suppose you are right."
"I will make the arrangements, if you'd like one."
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that." Evelyn smiled.
Cullen smirked at the memory as he grabbed his bag that sat next to Evelyn's by the sofa in their quarters. This is why it was necessary. After a quick stop to the Undercroft to grab the red lyrium rune from Dagna, he headed to the stables to prepare Silverite for the journey.
I will bring you home.
-I-I-I-
84 hours missing.
"Commander, we have to make camp. We must rest the mounts." Cassandra pleaded as they entered the gates of Sahrnia.
She'd been saying that for hours and though he tried to push forward and ignore it, he knew that Cassandra wouldn't stop reminding him until he agreed. "Very well. Take Silverite, I will continue on foot." Cullen pulled the reins on his horse until she slowed. He dismounted without losing momentum and jumped, intent to continue. To rest would be to delay further, and he had no intention of waiting a moment more than necessary to find Evelyn. For days, nothing was accomplished. Now, they were in a position to do something.
"You're being ridiculous." Cassandra scolded. "We will retire and leave at first light. It'll benefit no one if you are not at full strength. You are not letting her down by taking care of yourself."
I have been taking care of myself. While she has been Maker knows where enduring who knows what, I've been in our bed, within the safety and confines of Skyhold's walls, waiting and praying for an answer. This is it and I will not falter.
"Walking will not get you farther than your horse will before tomorrow morning," Dorian added.
That is true but continuing to press on is something I can control.
"Boss would even tell you that, were she here." Bull agreed.
An underhanded tactic, but irrelevant. "She isn't here, is she?" Cullen sneered.
"Cullen, you need to eat and rest. Sleep deprivation will do you no favors." Cassandra dismounted her own horse, tugging at the reins of Sheath and Silverite.
How could I possibly be sleep deprived? I have done nothing to warrant it. As his pace increased, Cullen noticed his lower back and butt tingled from riding so long. Every muscle ached but even so, there was no need to stop when they could press on.
"What is with your sudden aversion to practicality?" Dorian handed his Tevinter Stallion to Bull and ran to catch up to Cullen. "It's like a disease with you lately. You aren't thinking clearly and you need to stop." When he reached for his arm to halt him, Cullen yanked it away and continued, ignoring the attempt. Dorian's eyes narrowed, and he released a huff of breath.
Why can't they understand I am being practical? Every moment wasted was another log placed under her impending pyre. "I know what happens when details are missed and action comes too late."
The dainty body lie on display in Redcliffe for all to see. People came from far and wide to mourn the Hero of Ferelden, the elven mage who gave her life to end the Fifth blight and saved them all. Cullen's own personal savior, the woman who released him from the confines of his torture but also the face worn by the demon to inflict it.
Her companion gave a beautiful speech, one worthy of her as he recounted memories just as fondly as Cullen would've recited his own. Though they were never intimate, Cullen always felt something more for the enchanting lady and in another life, perhaps it could have been. When the tears streamed from the eyes of the newly appointed King, and his voice broke as he choked back his sobs. Cullen related internally, inappropriate given the fact she had been his charge.
The lovely young soul was motionless with her hands folded across her chest. Her tiny frame hardly covered half of the stone pillar she rested upon. Light blonde hair with black streaks had been styled, braided, and curled cascading down to her elbows. Though the teal couldn't be seen with her eyes closed, Cullen remembered the warmth they once possessed. The scene was surreal as if he were gazing at a particularly realistic doll crafted by those who owned the Wonders of Thedas shop in Denerim.
Cullen kissed her hand, the coolness of her skin sending a shiver from his lips down his spine before neatly placing it back to its original position. At the conclusion of the service, The king leaned forward, softly touching a kiss to her lips and Cullen averted his eyes. A single tear fell down his cheek as he grieved another friend taken by evil.
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
She was laid to rest in her Grey Warden Commander's attire and he knew, had he been more vigilant in his Templar duties, he could have prevented the events with Jowan and Lily that led to Neria joining the Wardens. Her death may not have been his fault, but the events that brought her to this point could have been altered, and he accepted the blame for that.
Cullen hung his head in solemn reflection. I will storm the Black City as a lone soldier before I allow a similar fate to befall Evelyn. I'll not let the woman I love go without a fight.
"Cullen, if you do not stop, I will freeze you in place," Dorian warned.
With little contemplation, he called Dorian's bluff. You wouldn't dare. "I'll cleanse it." Cullen shrugged, disregarding the threat.
"Then I'll do it again," Dorian stated, almost cheerfully. "As a templar who no longer takes lyrium, how many times do you think a cleanse will work before exhaust yourself?"
Cullen wasn't certain. It had been a long time since he had to use his abilities and he hadn't kept up with them on a daily basis like he had while he was on a strict lyrium regimen. It was more than possible he may only be able to dispel the magic once, but if Dorian was bluffing, it hardly mattered.
"Don't you see how unreasonable you're being?" Cassandra's voice was concerned but firm. "Do not make him use his powers on you." For her, it was as close to begging as the headstrong Seeker ever came. "Cullen, I will allow it, given your current lack of sense."
Cass, of all people, should understand, but I cannot waste time explaining what she should already know. "As Evelyn's closest friends, you should be more concerned about her best interests." The cold seeped into his boots. Travelling through his pants, up his calf, and into his thighs, settling around his waist. Paralyzing him from the navel down. Cullen snarled and turned his head to glare.
"We are looking out for Boss' best interests." Bull secured the mounts and untied his gear to pitch the tents.
"And somehow you don't seem to think that means finding her."
"Right now, what's best for her is not allowing the man she loves to self destruct in her absence. I for one, would prefer to avoid Ev on the warpath." Dorian added.
Cullen ignored him and pulled what power he could muster. The tingle of small pinpricks trickled within his veins. As it surged through him, he inhaled deeply before releasing. The ice shattered and dissipated. Without looking back, he took three more steps before he was stopped by Winter's Grasp for the second time.
Irritated by the incessant interference, Cullen again cleansed Dorian's magic. This time, his muscles ached from the use of power. His stomach sank, his body drained of energy. Instead of vanishing, the shards of ice scattered to the ground, crunching under his feet as he proceeded onward.
With a wave of his hand, Dorian nonchalantly cast the spell a third time. "I can do this all night, Commander. Your choice." He shrugged as he helped Bull drape the cloth over the stakes.
Cullen tried to pull from years of practice and conditioning to no avail. Without lyrium, he was nowhere near as strong as he used to be and, in this moment, he was paying for it. It was ironic: the chains which once bound him were the very limitations he needed now. "Release me, mage." Cullen hissed, his blood practically boiling from anger, not magic.
"My, my, did the Commander use that as a slur? Consider me thoroughly shocked. And appalled. The man gives you sass during one chess game and suddenly this is what we've come to." Dorian placed a hand against his chest and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Sounded like a slur." Bull agreed, proceeding to put together Cassandra's tent.
"You'll have to do better than that." Dorian said sarcastically. "You do know I'm from Tevinter, right? I've heard worse than that in Skyhold. In fact, I could even teach you a few new ones, should you wish to color your vocabulary. One of these days, you will thank me for rescuing you from your own stupidity."
Would he ever cease with the snarky commentary? No, probably not.
"Enough!" Cassandra shouted. "Are you daft? Stop this nonsense." She marched in front of a still half-frozen Cullen. "I will release you, provided you regain your wits. Otherwise, you'll force me to knock them back into you and cease whatever it is you think you are doing. Do I make myself clear?"
As much as he hated to admit it, they had him. They could either uncomfortably coerce him to stay here, or he could cooperate and make things easier on himself. With a sharp exhale, he nodded agreement to Cassandra's terms. The ice around his midsection and legs dissolved. "I'll take first watch."
"You most certainly will not."
Cullen heard Bull's voice from behind him. "That honor belongs to me." He stretched out his legs hoping to regain the feeling.
Without a word, Cullen draped his bedroll on the ground deciding to forgo the company and a tent despite Cassandra's stern look and gesture to Dorian's. I'll sooner sleep on the cold ground than with Dorian and Bull and their machinations. He stared at the stars wondering if Evelyn could see them too and prayed.
Though all before me is shadow…
