Note: !MAJOR! book spoilers ahead. If you haven't read Asunder or Masked Empire, proceed with extreme caution. Like I said, this is all head canon and I'm trying to remain vague but also want to play with what I know.

Also, a little nod at A Song of Ice and Fire (it and my easter egg are the property of G.R.R Martin) is sprinkled somewhere in here.

/+++/

"Baldilocks is going to get a kick out of you."

Iseabeau couldn't help but perk her eyebrows in agreement with Varric. She and her cohort had arrived at Andoral's Reach to treat and arbitrate between the warring Mages and Templars, the Inquisition now meeting with the mage's remaining leaders. Though their arrival so far had awarded a delicate armistice, it was a precarious one, both sides twitching for the first signs of treachery. The potential consequences were not lost on Isabeau.

Rhys and Evangeline had initially been the chosen representatives to approach the Inquisitions encampment; it had taken Isabeau several tense days of negotiation before they were able to obtain entry to the Fortress. Cole's presence had been tantamount in their efforts, however; Rhys and he sharing a rather touching reunion before the beleaguered mage had relented. To Isabeau's astonishment, Cole had inadvertently revealed Evangeline's secret, the three of them eventually recounting the incidents at the White Spire to the Inquisitor. Immediately, she had sent a bird to Skyhold, requesting Cullen ensure Solas was brought with the reinforcements she had requested.

"Silence, Dwarf!" Evangeline impatiently hissed at Varric now, Rhys having brought the Inquisition's envoy to the main hall of Andoral's Reach several days after Isabeau's bird had left.

"Inquisitor, you have approached us with a known Chantry sympathizer, a Tervinter Mage and, according to reports, a known Apostate is on his way with more of your constituents," First Enchanter Irving held her gaze steadily. "Not a rabble fit to inspire unity, I'm afraid. They are with you in your cause, but they have never been with ours."

"There has to be one cause now, First Enchanter. The world is being consumed by the Breach and it is growing day by day; whatever we are now must face the change together or pay the piper."

"You were there at our last attempts at negotiation, Inquisitor. And yet Our Grand Enchanter has not returned to us. Until we have confirmation of her death, I am afraid we are at an impasse."

Isabeau hid her sigh as she gave a shallow bow, "Very well, Enchanter Irving. I ask you maintain the armistice until my advisor arrives to negotiate with the Templar's. As per our agreement, Rhys and Evangeline will return with me and act as representatives in our further endeavors with the Order. Following that; we will bring you their terms, release your envoy and attempt to treat with you a final time. May the Maker guide you, First Enchanter, and I pray cooler heads may yet prevail." She turned and strode from the hall, grinding her teeth as she made her way to the main gate.

While she had mostly dreaded her first meeting with the Mage consortium, she truthfully had hoped for greater success. Perhaps she had set her expectations too high; hoping the others behind the resistance were well represented in Rhys' balanced temperament. The tense afternoon had proven otherwise. She had hoped Vivienne and Dorian's presence would serve to assuage the Mages. Evidently they're excluded from this little soiree...

Climbing onto her horse, Isabeau did not relish the task ahead of her and Cullen.The Templar's thus far had only begrudgingly accepted the fledgling truce, their terms tight as a noose around Isabeau's neck. She had until the morrow for her forces to arrive from Skyhold, and while they would offer her a modicum of security, she had to extend the fragile armistice. Empress Selene and de Chalons' war would not abate with the Mages and Templars still embroiled in their own hostilities; Isabeau had decided to tackle the latter, her previous intentions for entreating with Ghaspard put on hold.

They may be an ex-Templars, but Isabeau had to believe Cullen and Evangeline would do well representing their causes. Combined, their extensive knowledge and service to the Order previously may stand to count for something.

As she trotted through the perimeter of the Inquisition's encampment, she noted the increase in her forces' numbers, more of her banners dying the sky red. When she slid off her horse and dismissed her party, one of her sergeants approached her.

"Inquisitor, your Marshall and his forces have arrived. He waits for you in your tent."

Nodding, she made her way to the back of the camp, reaching to push one of the heavy flaps of her tent apart. Cullen and Solas were within, patiently standing at her desk. She offered them both a tense smile before striding to take her seat before them.

"Gentlemen, you made good time, I see."

"Yes, my lady. We made preparations with great haste immediately following your bird," Cullen seemed to fidget, his shoulders rocking back and forth as he shifted his pauldrons. "We are standing atop crumbling earth here, Inquisitor. We must be swift in these negotiations. The Inquisition cannot afford any substantial losses over this."

"I agree," Leliana appeared from behind a flap, her steps silent as she approached them. "Inquisitor, this is not a battle we can win and we balance perilously on the blade's edge the longer we remain." Her hands came to palm the surface of the table top as she leaned towards Isabeau, "I ask you let me handle this situation."

The quill in Isabeau's hand twirled between her fingers as she considered Leliana's implications. Her eyes darted to Cullen, already the knight's face hardened with disapproval; Solas, on the other hand, appeared impassive.

"Extrapolate."

"Allow me and several of my agents to infiltrate the fortress and templar camps; I will cut off the head of these troubles at their source. The rest will come to heel at the loss of their leadership, scattered and unorganized. We absorb them and leave a garrison of our forces at Andoral's Reach to police and command as an additional Keep."

Cullen scoffed and waved at Leliana's strategy as if he could shoo it away, "You can't seriously think that prudent? You propose inciting anarchy and then using our precious resources to tighten the leash? This is far larger and more complicated than that."

"So we sit on our asses, Cullen? Play the sycophant and hope we all walk away holding hands?" Leliana cursed in Orlesian, "The Mages and Templars have had their opportunities; opportunities we have all felt the consequence of. They need to be crushed or commanded. We will not find a middle ground in this conflict."

"Even if I was rendered temporarily insane and wanted to stage a war on two simultaneous fronts, sandwiched in between both...? We don't have the men-." Cullen seethed slowly, Leliana cutting in.

"Exactly. I offer the solution to your problem."

The two then dissolved into a fury of arguments, Cullen and Leliana's words each more biting than the last. Isabeau groaned and slammed both her elbows hard upon the desk, propping her head in her hands as she worked her fingers into her skull. The sudden bang silenced the tent, Cullen straightening and Leliana turning back to the Inquisitor, both now hushed.

"This will be discussed further at another time. For now, we must prepare for our talks with the Templars. I will not bend in my diplomacy, but neither do I have the patience required for what may come after this task," she said as she eyed them each carefully. "Your shared advice is appreciated, but I would have a better grip on the situation before we proceed with any end game strategies."

Both her advisor's nodded and made to leave, Isabeau requesting Cullen remain as Leliana stormed from the tent. She was immensely tempted to chance the fates and take the more under-handed approach, but she also could not help but feel Leliana's own emotions were coming into play. There was hardness to the woman, her sometimes vicious tactics usually rearing their ugly heads at any Mage involvement. Isabeau occasionally wondered if she wasn't the only one harboring significant trauma from the explosion at the Temple of Andraste.

She turned to her dutiful squire who stood nearby, "Pod, kindly fetch Rhys and Evangeline. I would wish to speak with them."

He nodded and jogged out of the tent.

"The Templar you mentioned?" Solas asked, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity.

"The very one. Rhys is a Spirit Healer," she stood and made her way to a small table of assorted goblets and wines. She poured the dark liquid and brought it to her lips, swallowing before continuing, "Cullen, do you recall Wynn from Kinloch Hold?"

"Of course, she helped slay the Archdemon."

"Correct. Rhys... is her son."

"Was... she not with him? Wynn was... a judicious woman. She could improve our effor-"

Isabeau quickly interrupted him, "She's dead, Cullen."

Cullen lowered his eyes, bowing his head respectfully, "A... a shame."

Isabeau crossed her arms at Solas, "If you find Cole fascinating, you're going to have a field day with Evangeline, Solas."

"Truly?"

"Hmm," Isabeau sardonically hummed her affirmation, finishing her goblet of wine in several deep gulps as they waited for the Mage representatives to arrive. Once they had and Isabeau gave proper introductions, she had the pair recount their experiences again to Solas, the elf eventually sinking into a seat as he listened.

"And you feel no change to your person?"

Evangeline swallowed and shook her head, "Nothing. I do not know how it may have changed Wynn, but I have been here at the Reach ever since and felt nothing."

"Well, besides being alive when you should be dead," Rhys quipped, earning him a sullen frown from Evangeline.

"There is... one more thing, actually," the ex-templar began hesitantly, her eyes downcast as Isabeau's attention piqued, wondering what new information Evangeline could add.

"You are safe telling us, Ser," Solas urged gently.

"Sometime's... there's this music. At first I just thought it was little more than echoes through the fortress, it comes so rarely. Then one day I was assisting Rhys with some lyrium dust and it returned, ever so soft, but it was there."

The floor suddenly rushed up to meet Isabeau as she briefly fainted, Cullen immediately diving in an attempt to catch her. Her vision blacked in and out as she hyperventilated, Solas having now joined Cullen as they worried over her. As her breathing slowed and her vision steadied, she weakly muttered apologies to Rhys and Evangeline, everyone's eyes concernedly on Isabeau. She took Cullen's hand and allowed him to steady her on her feet, worry lining his face.

"You must forgive me, for I am spent from the day. You have been most helpful, Evangeline. Kindly see you and Rhys get some rest yourselves," Isabeau dismissed the pair, holding herself straight until they disappeared from the tent before collapsing into a chair Cullen had moved to her.

"Oh Maker," she groaned, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

"Isabeau..."

"Solas, you heard her."

"Isabeau."

"Ohhh fuck. Maker, fuck..."

Both Solas and Cullen's voices erupted, "Isabeau!"

Snapped abruptly from her panicking, Isabeau took a deep breath and chugged down the water Cullen had held out for her. As the three waited in silence for her calm to return, Isabeau had less luck slowing her rampant thoughts. What in the Void does this make me?

"This... has interesting implications," Solas began slowly, Isabeau rounding on him immediately.

"You think?!"

"Inquisitor, you must calm yourself," Cullen firmly urged, his hand coming to squeeze her shoulder encouragingly. Isabeau resisted her desire to roughly shrug it away, knowing Cullen didn't deserve her temper anymore than Solas did. With another deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, staring intensely at the various scuffs to the metal encasing her boot. Her hand rubbed at her neck as she raised her eyes to Solas, almost feeling too ashamed to look at Cullen.

"Cole, Wynn, Evangeline," Isabeau picked nervously at the skin of her nails, "Solas, is that... what's wrong? What I am?"

The elf's mouth was a grave line, his eyes intently boring into Isabeau's, "How would you prefer I put it?"

"Plainly."

Solas nodded his assent, "Yes, I believe you are. There are... both differences and similarities, however."

Cullen's hand on her shoulder turned into a vice grip, "Evangeline claims to have retained who she is, even if she is indeed possessed. Perhaps she is not... dead?"

Isabeau shook her head at his optimism, "According to Rhys, she very much... was."

"We cannot know for sure. You asked I speak plainly and thus here it is: I think you and Evangeline are different from Cole, the young man appears more spirit than man, little to none of his... host's personality exists," Solas rose from his own seat and began to pace before the two knights, "Noting that, yes, I think both you and Evangeline survived your deaths from the assistance of a spirit."

"Blood of Andraste."

Raising her head, Isabeau saw the colour had blanched from Cullen's face, wondering if she herself fared any better. He took his hand from her shoulder and shakily sat upon Isabeau's desk,

She swallowed deeply as she levelled her eyes again with Solas', "A spirit. Not a demon?"

"Oh, we'd know if it was a demon," he replied before he paused in his pacing to pour a goblet of wine. He held it thoughtfully to his lips before taking a quick sip, "This now makes four cases I have heard of," he quickly glanced at Cullen, "The Grey Warden that devastated Kirkwall, from what Varric has told me, initially retained who he was. In time... he gradually changed. Even so, the spirit of Justice apparently morphed into Vengeance, yet Anders still mostly remained. He had not succumbed to a demon, it seems the virtue simply... transformed accordingly."

"That mage," Cullen spat out the word viciously, "was a lunatic and a coward. Do not lessen his crimes with such conjecture."

"I don't disagree his actions were heinous; I was making an observation, Ser," the edge in Solas' voice sliced with each word. "What is important is we have three solid cases showing the possession did not alter the host. Wynn, Evangeline and now... you." Solas strode to where Isabeau sat and kneeled before her, his eyes gentler, "Do I think you... lost who you are? No, lethallan... I can say I do not think that."

"Then... I'm alive?"

Solas chuckled ruefully as he stood, "In an attempt to avoid an existential debate, I would ask you simply open your eyes... and take a deep breath. There is where your answer lies."

With one more shaky breath, Isabeau stood, about to question further when Cullen spoke up.

"But... she is possessed?"

Groaning, Solas turned to answer, "As I said, I was trying to avoid the debate. Is this really a discussion you'd like to have, Templar? If so, a holy smite would speed things up quite a bit."

Cullen pushed off from the desk, Isabeau reaching for his arm as the tension in the air became palpable. She put herself between the two men, her fingertips pressing against each of their chests.

"Enough, I will not have this. You will remain civil... because Maker's breath, I need you both right now."

Solas ignored Isabeau and bitingly continued, his hard gaze matching Cullen's, "Spirits are the embodiment of virtues, it is common knowledge. Would it be so terrible if she possessed Honor, Strength or Hope?"

"She already does."

"Then what is the difference?"

Silence hung heavy between them when suddenly both men relaxed, their shoulders sinking as they stepped back from Isabeau's outstretched arms. She released the breath she had been holding and refilled another goblet of wine, swallowing the liquid in several gulps. Cullen had crossed his arms, his head turned sullenly away from her vision.

"Anders... if he was the cause of change in the spirit, does that mean whatever I possess is at the same risk?"

Solas rubbed tiredly at his face "Yes, I believe so. But we will spend all night speaking of this, if I allow it. I am tired from our journey and there are now many answers I need to find. I can attempt to speak with Cole again but... it could prove detrimental to his progress so far."

Isabeau slowly nodded her understanding, Cole at times being closer to an adolescent than the man he appeared. At Solas' initial attempts at questioning him, the spirit had spooked quite badly and it had taken the gentle coaxing of time and familiarity for the lad to come around again.

"I understand."

"Very well, we will speak on the morrow then," he gave a shallow bow before he swiftly exited the tent. Isabeau felt another onslaught of shakes consuming her, Cullen still quiet and aloof.

"Cullen..."

"Do you believe it?"

She shrugged her arms dramatically, disregarding her goblet of wine and instead grabbing the entire bottle. Flinging herself atop the bed in one of the corners of her tent, she worried at the mouth of the bottle between sips as she considered.

"It's... one way to survive an explosion."

Cullen suddenly slashed his arms across her desk, sending the items atop scattering across the floor of the tent. Isabeau abruptly sat up, seeing an attack upon Cullen as he proceeded to flip the table in a similar fashion.

"To the Void with your levity!" he snapped, turning to grab the bottle from her hands. Isabeau cringed, expectantly awaiting the ensuing crash of glass, when she opened an eye to see him taking several deep swigs instead. He gasped for breath when he pulled the bottle from his lips, looking decidedly miserable and contrite as he came to slump on the bed beside her.

"I... am sorry. Maker, I am sorry Isabeau. This is... a shock."

In the time they managed to find together since the attack on Skyhold, the pair had become well acquainted with their shared traumas; each taking turns at waking the other from dreams or calming them in their terrors. Isabeau took pains to be as respectful of Cullen's triggers as he was of hers, but the unfolding of the night's events had them both burned out. Cullen had never lashed out at her before nor been destructive; Isabeau was sad to see the agony of his disbelief.

"We're riding that wave together, I think..." Isabeau began carefully, relieved to feel his hand tighten in hers when she reached for it, the other taking the wine and bringing it back to her lips. "I didn't... really like my desk, anyway."

Cullen groaned through a rueful chuckle, "Maker's breath, must you deflect everything with humour?"

Isabeau smiled sadly and stood to undress, peeling off her clothes and armor as Cullen watched. A part of her was almost insecure under his scrutiny. Is he looking for... signs of possession? She briefly wondered how hard old habits died. Once down to her smalls, Isabeau returned to the bed and straddled Cullen's hips, swallowing hard at the sorrowful look he gave her.

"Please don't," she croaked.

"What?"

"Look at me like that."

A large hand came to tiredly pinch the bridge of his nose, Cullen sighing deeply. He released the pinch, his hands now coming to grasp her hips as he guided her off his lap. As Isabeau began to fret his absence, he again surprised her when he began to work off his own armor and tunic. Once down to his breeches, he climbed into the bed beside her, an arm coming around her shoulders to hold her tightly against his chest.

Cullen cleared his throat as he cautiously began, "At first I felt ill... and then I felt frightened, the more I listened, the more red I began to see. The demons, Kirkwall-" he paused and swallowed thickly, "-It all came back."

Isabeau stared blankly at the peaks in the ceiling of her tent, "All I could think of was... following that music. And then there I was, outside the Fade. I was alive; I thought of my family and mourned the dead around me," she ground the heels of her palm into her eyes and turned to look at Cullen. "Truthfully? I suffocated my curiosity for that day, too cowardly to face it; to have a probable answer now? It's... disturbingly rewarding."

"A... morbid view," Cullen objected, swinging out from under her to prop an arm against the beams of the tester, looking down at her worriedly. "Like Evangeline, you truly can't recall feeling different?"

Her palms slid up Cullen's abdomen and chest, coming to rest behind his neck, "Cullen, I swear it; it was like I blacked out or fell asleep. One minute the world burned and I with it... the next I was following the music to the Breach." She sat up on her elbows and softly pressed her lips to his, Cullen's twitching before kissing back in response. As their kiss deepened, Cullen lowered his arm from the tester, instead laying both down at Isabeau's sides, their affections slow but passionate.

When they broke away, Isabeau reached and rand a hand through his hair, "Do I feel any different...?"

He stared at her with a sad thoughtfulness then, seeming to come to a realization as he pressed his forehead to hers and sighed, "No. No, I suppose you don't."

"Cullen, we still don't know if... if it's even right," She let out a long breath as she reached and cupped his cheek in her hand. "I tire so much of these intricacies of fantasy and games within the Game; I just need... one thing, just one thing, to make sense."

"Isabeau..."

Could you do it? Her mind viciously berated her. Could you subject him to torment every time he looks at you and thinks 'demon'? More importantly, could you?

"If this is the line in the sand for you, I respect that."

Cullen frowned, "I... what? No. Maker, Isabeau..."

"You... can manage this?"

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, smiling tiredly when he pulled away, "I'd like to continue in my efforts, yes. Isabeau, we could agonize over this until it ruins us... and I have had enough ruin in my life. " Isabeau's eyes began to burn and blur as he held her tenderly, "I have... come to care about you, a great deal. I won't let the... opportunity go to waste, but I won't always be perfect in my execution, either. I don't know what to believe or expect anymore, I have resigned myself to these fates; I do not regret any of it."

Cullen rolled to lie at Isabeau's side, his arms pulling her back on top of him as they embraced tightly. Isabeau adjusted and turned to spoon his side, "I have... come to love you, too. However, what you did... the desk? I know I made light of it, but it cannot happen again, Cullen. I have enough in this world to give me a fright as it is."

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it repeatedly, "You have my word and apologies, my lady..." Isabeau moaned in relief as he rolled to face her, their legs entwining as Isabeau felt the proof of his enduring desire pressed against her. Cullen then reached between them, his hand pushing aside her smalls as he guided himself inside her. Isabeau tried to find solace in their intimacy, her arousal dancing on the edges of her grasp, but her mind and heart were too heavy. Cullen's effort's eventually slowed to a stop.

"Isabeau?"

She raised a shaky hand to cover her face as the sobs began to wrack her body, the weight of her existence suddenly too heavy upon her shoulders. The dam burst and soon she was muffling her mewling into Cullen's protective arms, the knight whispering words of courage and love in her ears as he hushed and soothed her. When her agony subsided and she gulped in shaky, steadying breaths, Cullen loosened his embrace, the pair laying back in exhaustion.

As Isabeau fell asleep to the feel of Cullen's fingers through her hair, a soft melody danced soothingly at the edges of her hearing, a smile spreading across her face as she took heart and vowed to not surrender her hope ever again.