Chapter nine is extended on AO3 (extended content is all 'MA' rated, thus not posted here.) Username on AO3: AmbrosiaRush. Link in profile.

::

When given the choice between a sweet roll, or a scone, Ashrielle stared blankly. Josephine's office was a warm oasis, free from commands, and battle. It should have been a relaxing moment between friends, instead the quiet unnerved the mage, and left her jumping at the shadows created by the flickering fire.

"How about both?" Josephine said kindly, worry in her warm honey eyes.

Both? The sweet roll, and scone both sit upon her plate next to the tea. Oh, right.

"You must be tired from your ride from Adamant."

Adamant. The fade. Her heart clenched, and her stomach twisted. Stroud…

Instead of taking a seat in the high back chair, Josephine instead sat on the couch beside Ashrielle. "Horse Master Dennet is taking good care of the horses. Yours looks especially beautiful with the braids you put in her hair."

Ashrielle picked up her teacup and took a small sip. The hot liquid burned on the way down, and warmed her frigid body. Another sip, and she set it back down. "Has Cullen given you the list of casualties yet?"

Josephine's lips pressed into a thin line. "No. And let us not speak of it. You've just returned."

"Stroud," Ashrielle whispered the name of the Warden she'd condemned to die in the Fade. "I left him. I left him there Josie."

"Now, now," a voice so soft, so gentle, accompanied by a clever fingers playing with her hair. "Let us not worry on it now. Have I ever told you about the time Yvette-"

The world blurred, and her hearing faded in and out. "Josie?"

"It's okay," Josephine said, her voice fading away. "Just rest now."

::

Cullen knocked and only entered after gaining permission to Josephine's private quarters. "How is she?" he asked immediately.

"The poor thing." Josephine led him to the couch where the Inquisitor slept on her side, a thick blanket tucked around her lithe body. "I think we finally asked too much of her."

"It had to be her, and it had to be done," Cullen said with a frown.

Josephine scowled. "It's unfair."

"It is regrettable. Do you think I don't care for her? I do." The two advisors stood shoulder to shoulder, staring down at their Inquisitor. "Unfortunately, all we can do is lighten the burden when we can. Bull pointed out her...state on the journey back. I had many soldiers to attend-" Cullen shook his head. "I will not make excuses. I should have noticed."

A small sigh escaped Josephine's lips, her shoulders dropped. "Sometimes I think that we ask too much of you as well."

"I will endure." His hand tightened on the pummel of his sword. "We all have our parts to play. Shall I take her to her quarters?"

"She would be more comfortable in her own bed," Josephine said with a decisive nod. The Inquisitor's feet dangled off the edge of the couch. "I'll get the doors."

::

Outside of Herald's Rest, Josephine sat on one of the crates, The Iron Bull standing to her side. "How is she?"

"I'm afraid I couldn't get her to speak much," Josephine said. However, accomplished at The Game, she continued. "What happened in the Fade-" she paused as a couple of drunken soldiers walked by. "She is greatly disturbed by the choice she had to make. Leaving Stroud-"

"I get it," Bull said. And he did. She'd chosen to save his Chargers after all. A choice she didn't make lightly. He had been in the Fade, physically in the fade with her. He had escaped along with their companions. And then there was the great pause where he felt queasy. Hawke emerged appearing shocked and sickened. After what felt like an eternity, Ashrielle emerged, and without hesitation closed the rift. He wasn't able to catch her eye as she gave the speech of Stroud's heroism, nor when she banished the Wardens to Orlais to protect them. On the return trip home, she rode her horse, keeping her eyes forward as she followed the soldiers. Eyes glazed, unfocussed. Remembering, not present. A woman like her, she wasn't equipped to deal with the aftermath. "The potion?"

"Worked faster than I expected." Josephine sighed. "I do hope she won't hold this against me. I'd hate to see our trust broken over this. I just wanted to help."

Bull rested his hand on her shoulder. "That is something she will understand."

::

It made The Iron Bull oddly content to see her all tucked in. The Commander and the Ambassador clearly had a little 'mother hen' in them. The fireplace gave light and warmth to the room, surely a comfort if she were to wake. The blinds were drawn to keep the sun from disturbing her rest come morning. It had been difficult to hand over the responsibility for his Kadan to the others, but he also had his men to worry about.

Especially Rocky, who'd taken a bad blow at Adamant. Stitches still couldn't say if he'd make a full recovery. Dalish had fractured something in her arm, and she'd always been skittish around other mages. She had managed to hide the injury until halfway back when Grim of all people finally said something about the awkward way she was holding her arm. Stitches himself had a few new scars post battle, shallow wounds sewn up by Krem who was more used to sewing clothing into repair than human flesh.

"What a fucking mess," he muttered. Fucking Wardens. Fucking Fade. Fucking demons.

Ashrielle kicked in her sleep until free of the blankets. She turned onto her side, still in her gambeson and leather breaches, although her light armour and boots had been removed. In her sleep, her feet brushed against each other over and over. He gently grabbed her ankle, removed one sock, then the other. After that, she slept soundly. He ran his finger over the high arch of her foot. "Elves and their bare feet."

He'd disposed of his heavy armour earlier in the evening, and only bothered to remove his boots before laying down beside her. For the first time, he wished his horns had grown back so that he could lay on his side, only so he could hold her closer. However, on his back, he made do with laying as close to her sleeping form as he could. Her earthy scent of Elfroot and Dawn Lotus soothed him. His heart still tripped in his chest, thinking about what he could have lost. He already lost the Qun, he couldn't imagine surviving the loss of her. He would, of course, continue on but it would all be rather… meaningless, and dull without her light. His spark, his Asaaranda, his Kadan.

::

Bull awoke to the presence of another in the room, and nearly jumped out of his skin at how close Cole stood Ashrielle's side of the bed. "Kid," he snarled, more startled than angry with the spirit.

"It doesn't stop. Hawke or Stroud. Stroud or Hawke. Warden or Champion. Rank or wild-card. She thinks of the man she's never met. The smile upon Marian's lips when she speaks his name. 'Anders.'" Cole's hat obstructs the view of his face, but Bull doesn't need it to know the kid is worried about the Inquisitor. He's in her room, hovering over her prone form, whispering these words. "Love unbroken, bound, and true. Hawke, don't let her make the sacrifice. Not this time. Not this time."

Bull frowned, and ran his hand over her arm, a need to touch, to know she was real. "It isn't easy for her to leave Stroud behind though, regardless of how much she wanted to save Hawke."

"No," Cole agreed. "It wasn't her fault, but she won't believe me, she won't let go. Needs to remember, needs to forget." He removed his favoured hat and left it on her night table. "Marian thrills in the arms of Anders. Alive, alive, alive, a joyous chant. Varric frowns at letters, but his knees shook when Waffles stepped out of the fade, he is happy, and guilty for that happiness."

He hadn't figured out the spirit completely, but he knew that the words spoken were always meaningful, even if they didn't always make sense. "Why are you telling me this?"

Cole frowned. "They are happy. They are because of her. She needs to see. Needs to feel. Soldiers were lost, and all she can see is death. Soldiers are alive, liberated, laughing, living, because of her. Show her, The Iron Bull." And somehow, between blinks, the spirit was gone, the hat the only way he could know for certain he'd been there in the first place.

"Fuck," Bull muttered.

::

Despite how Cole had unnerved him, he took the spirit's advice. He insisted she dress, dragged her out to spend time with Varric. Later, when he'd talked the location out of the dwarf, he took her to see Marian Hawke before she left for Weisshaupt, and they met Anders, whose quiet manner didn't line up with Bull's impression of a man who'd blow up a Chantry. Still, the two showed they were very much in love. Anders himself gave Ashrielle a lifeward amulet in thanks.

When the returned to Skyhold, she checked in on the wounded soldiers. Many were sitting up, injured, but in good spirits. Harding looked relaxed with her group of scouts. Dorian was enjoying the rare sunny weather. Sera and Varric were shooting dummies. Cassandra and Cullen walked side by side, Cullen rubbing the back of his neck, eyes averted. Josephine and Lilianna stood on the battlements, watching over.

Bull felt some of the tension release from Ashrielle's shoulders, though he kept his hand on her back. "War isn't pretty, and it isn't easy, but it's necessary, and the sacrifices made are worth it."

Her shoulders tensed once again. Looking up, she had to adjust Cole's hat which she'd smiled at when she found in the morning. "How's Rocky?"

"I don't know," Bull admitted. "Stitches can't say much yet."

She looked somewhere over his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. "And if he dies?" Her voice pitched, and she took a second to get it back under control. "Is that sacrifice still worth it?"

They stood, not as The Iron Bull and Ashrielle, but as the commander of her mercenary forces, and the Inquisitor. She wasn't asking them as friends, nor lovers, but asking him, leader to leader. It pained him, but he nodded. "Adamant had to happen. There were going to be casualties. Everyone went in under the Inquisition banner knew the risk, and was willing to lay down their life for the cause. Those who survive must do them justice, must continue the fight, and enjoy the time the others did not get."

She turned into him, rested her forehead against his chest, the floppy brim of the hat curling up. "Ma serannas, ma lath." She took a step back. "I need to return Cole's hat." A smile graced her face. "I think I'm okay without it now."