She was gone less than a day and Cullen missed her already. The Commander sighed and looked at the pile of documents on his desk, already written and waiting for delivery. He did his job carefully and that kept him busy over the half of a day but now he found himself at loss of something to do. Greeting the guard on the battlements, he leaned on the stone wall and looked down in the training ring. His lips curled in a smile seeing the young Templar girl Chantelle running around with ten exhausted recruits in toe.
He felt a pang of guilt at how he treated her but then he remembered that she was a soldier and she had to give her best. Besides, who would like to clean the stables for one year?
Azzura Amell. The name made its way in his mind again. He told himself to stay away from her, to not let her sneak in his heart again… but when she truly left his heart? She was there when he was caged by the blood mages in Kinloch Hold, even when he hated mages back in the Gallows, her image won't live him. His stomach clenched when he realized that she never asked him about Kirkwall and what he did there.
In the first years of his assignment, he did things that would make her hate him. He made mages Tranquil at Meredith's orders; he hunted down apostates and locked away his own Templars if he saw that they were showing signs of fraternization with the mages in the Circle.
And all the time when he was doing that, he couldn't think of something else than her abandonment. It was a way for punishing her when he did those things? It was her who was making Tranquil every time he pushed the lyrium brand on a mage's forehead? Was he seeing in other Templars, weak enough to care for a mage, his own image and what happened to him because of his love? Was he trying to remind them of their own duties and that the mages are not people?
"Mages are not like me and you …"
He told those words to an apostate and he didn't realize that Adeline Hawke was a mage until one day she healed him after a dock fight. Later when he asked her why she revealed herself to him, knowing that he had a low opinion about mages and after what he told her, her words let him speechless.
"I know what you believe, but it's not what you are. I can sense that there is something more behind that mask. You carry a deep wound in your heart and your eyes betray you."
He then laughed and tried to avoid her scrutiny to no avail and when defeated, he asked her how she knows; Adeline made one of her one liners.
"Lone Templar wandering by the docks, looking with huge puppy eyes at the stars? Not seeing an incoming attack? You are the first one of your kind I ever met, to make this mistake." And then she offered him a bottle of wine and sat with him on a chunk of stone the entire night.
They talked about everything and by the end of the third bottle; he spilled out his entire life. Since that day he slowly changed; his first insubordination act was to hide Adeline and the two other apostates, out of Meredith's eyes and ears. He felt betrayed again when Anders – who was one of his friends once – blew up the Chantry and started the war. The pain in Hawke's eyes after she killed her friend, right after the attack, made him reconsider his views. Not all mages are bad and many of them have a good heart and know to use their power for better things than blowing up Chantries or practicing blood magic.
The irony to find out that Hawke was Azzura's cousin left him wondering if the Maker liked to play games with his children's hearts.
The noise of rushed footsteps and a door closing woke him up from his reverie.
"Commander? Care to tell me what is this shit I just heard from Cassandra? I barely escaped with my shirt in one piece, the Seeker almost ripped it away trying to convince me to come and talk to you! That woman has an iron fist, Maker's mercy!"
Cullen straightened his body and faced the Inquisitor. He took his decision that morning when he went to talk to Cassandra.
"Inquisitor … I won't change my mind. If I can't fulfil my duty towards you and the Inquisition, Cassandra will find a replacement for me."
Maxwell leaned on the wall and stared at his Commander. "Do you think I would let you do that? I know Rylen or the new Knight Captain Lawrence are more than capable to be a Commander, but they are not you. I thought we are friends, Cullen. You know my story, I know yours; we've been through a lot together."
Cullen passed a hand through his hair looking at the mountains shining in the sunlight. "We are, Herald. But if the lyrium withdrawal symptoms become much worse, I won't be able to go on." – He closed his eyes, ashamed to confess his struggles with the daily temptation he faces – "It's been difficult in the last few weeks."
"And still you are here, doing rounds, checking on our people, talking to your friends. Cullen, maybe I haven't made myself clear. What I admire in you is your strength to do what I can't. If I wouldn't be so advanced in age and I wouldn't have this burden on my shoulders, I would follow your example. Looking at how you are so determined to break this leash and how you cope with the results, make me so proud of knowing you. No, I won't accept your surrender and I won't replace you. I will be here when you will need me and I will support you. "- Trevelyan grinned to his friend – "Besides, Cassandra would rip my body in countless pieces if I would agree with your way of thinking."
Cullen took a deep breath and smiled at his Herald. "Thank you, Inquisitor. I will do everything in my power to comply. There were some difficult days for me."
"Since the beautiful Hero showed up uninvited to your door?" – Cullen became red; Maxwell felt giddy; he hit straight to the heart of the problem.
"Why would I … I mean, how do you know? It's not true … I … Um…"
Maxwell pretended to play with his ring: "After the duel you had with lady Amell, now everyone is convinced that there is more than let the eyes see. Although, I am utterly impressed and worried about a mage knowing how to fight like a Templar."
"Worried? No need to be; outside the sword play she can't access other Templar powers. She knows better than to try a Holy Smite again."
Trevelyan laughed at his friend. "So she tried it. It must have been unpleasant to say the least. This had me thinking a lot, for another reason. We get enhanced powers when we take our drafts, but since she was able to learn the little things without taking vows or having the lyrium ritual; it would be possible that in the future Templars could fight without lyrium?"
"Maybe. But would they be powerful enough to oppose to a mage?"
Maxwell looked in his friend's eyes. "And maybe if they would be free and learn how to live in the outside world mages wouldn't try to gain more power. Maybe they would put their knowledge to the better use. The world is changing, we have to be careful how it will change, but we can't allow the same mistakes to happen again. If it means that we will have to train our Templars how to fight without lyrium, we will do it. And I will need you to be by my side."
Cullen listened attentively, happy that the Herald seemed to forget about his Hero, when Maxwell waved a hand in the main gate's direction. "She's back earlier than she said." – The Commander turned to watch with his own eyes and when he couldn't see the object of his thoughts he realized that he was caught off guard, like a child. Behind him, Maxwell smiled and waited for the shoe to drop.
Cullen rolled his eyes. "You are impossible, you know?"
"So… what's the story? Spit it out."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Cullen revealed his story over a bottle of wine the Inquisitor ordered to be brought in his Commander's office.
"And what you will do now?" – Maxwell asked moving the vine in his glass and taking a sip. "I honestly don't know. We are at war; I can't let other thoughts occupy my mind. To be honest, I still try to find something left from the old girl I knew."
"People change, Cullen. She was thrown into a war and forced to become a leader, she defeated the Blight and she started with less than nothing. She had to survive and learn on the way. Maybe what you need to do is to get to know the woman she became and not trying to find an old memory of her. When I have lost my wife I thought that the world ended with her death but life goes on. "
"Then you want me to spend more time with her?"
The Herald's answer was interrupted by the door opening and a scout entered with a new stack of reports, placing them on the desk.
"Sister Leliana sends these, Commander. And she's in need of you, Inquisitor."
Cullen gulped down an entire glass of wine, annoyed with the scout for interrupting his talk with Maxwell. After the boy left, unaware of the Commander's murderous glance, Trevelyan laughed at his friend's scowl.
"Do you never close those doors?"
"No, why?"
"You might want to do it if and when you will have private meetings with your Warden. Between your daggers and her lightning, I'm afraid the boy won't survive."
Maxwell left and Cullen leaned on his chair looking at the roof. His Warden. So many words unspoken and feelings to rediscover. She said she had a reason to leave him, maybe he should ask her about that. He missed her now more than ever and he couldn't wait for her return.
On his part, Maxwell thought that his Commander needed a distraction. The man worked himself to exhaustion and when he did that, his strength to fight the withdrawal weakened. He had to do something.
The next day in the morning, Cullen went to inspect how the new recruits were going under his new pupils training. Ryan, Michael and Chantelle stood at attention in front of him, the girl amazingly keeping quiet.
The Commander had to blink twice at the perfect aligned soldiers but what caught his attention were several new additions to the thirty recruits. Mages equipped with staves and battle armors stood in the back row, Evelyn Trevelyan between them.
He turned towards Ryan. The boy seemed to be the leader of that trio of Templars.
"Interesting change of plans, Ser Ryan. How did this happen?"
"Commander, when we came to help the Inquisition we came as a Templar and mage team. Some of the mages here are our friends. Then we thought; if the Inquisition wants to bring people together, why not make them work together and help them understand mages? We need healers and battle mages as much as we need warriors and archers. My father is a hunter, one of the best archers in the Free Marches and he told me that if a team is versatile, they can have the upper hand."
Michael shifted on his feet and trying to control his stutter, spoke. "We plan to make this work, Ser. Our mages can protect the warriors and the archers can protect the mages. We … we … want to fight by your s-side Comm-mmander."
Cullen was moved by the young people showing so much respect and admiration for him. A stir of his heart made him wonder if they would still admire him if they ever knew what he had done in the name of their Order.
"Carry on with the training. Soon I will want to see results"- With a wicked grin, he turned to Chantelle- "Or those stables would shine clean for a year."
"Don't count on that, Commander Cullen! By the end of these two months, I will make them eat their swords!"
Ryan covered his eyes with his hands. "And I almost thought that she would keep her tongue in check."
Chantelle gave him a mocking smirk and yelling at the recruits began to run around the training ring.
"She takes this seriously, Ser. People are afraid of her."
Cullen's laugh could be heard in the courtyard and many of his own soldiers turned to watch him with bright smiles. Their Commander seemed to be happier around those children. The morale of the troops improved, they loved their Commander and everyone tried to please him; even if that meant to sweat under his drills.
The Seeker was unhappy. She looked at the remaining few pages from the last chapter of Sword and Shields with a frown.
"If I keep reading so fast, I will finish it too soon, and then I won't have anything to read. The dwarf must work on something else, I hope for his own good."
Right then, the poor dwarf passed by, unaware of the Seeker's thoughts. He was checking on Bianca's string when he felt a tug at his shirt and a heavy arm dragged him back.
"Come here, dwarf. We need to talk."
Startled, Varic turned to see the Seeker waving his book in front of his eyes.
"Hold on, Seeker! I thought you liked the end. I wrote it so I can please you, after all."
Cassandra huffed and let go of his collar. "I haven't finished it yet. You see, the problem is that after this, I won't have anything to read. Tell me that you have a new book in the works, you have too!" – Her voice sounded almost desperate.
Varic was flattered that the Seeker found his books so addictive, but once again he was worried that the woman lived too much in that fantasy world. If she could, Cassandra literally would have eaten the books.
He tried to voice his concerns:" Seeker, maybe you need to find another hobby for a while. Your obsession with books is worrying. And no, I don't have anything to work with, right now." – That was a big mistake.
Cassandra pulled the dwarf to her and pointed the tip of her sword at his neck. "You lie! I need books to read, and you will comply! Write faster, I demand it!"
If Varic didn't know better he would think that the Seeker went nuts for real.
"Calm down, woman! I wish I could do it. But I lost my inspiration; I don't have anything left to write about. Let's make a deal; I will find other books for you and this will give me time to think of something of my own."
"I have read them all! There is no book left from those that the Chantry never banned. I have them all." – She turned Varic towards the way he came and pushed him ahead. "Go and find your inspiration and do it fast." – Then she sat back on her usual bench and opened the book on her knees like nothing happened.
Still thinking at what just happened, Varic bumped into the Inquisitor. Maxwell steadied the dwarf, keeping him from falling on his back. "Maker, you must be in a hurry. What's the problem?"
"The Seeker! She threatened me with her sword to write faster." – He raised his hands to the sky – "I wish I could. But I can't find anything worthy to write about. I am at short of ideas."
The Herald eyes sparkled with mirth. "So, we find her new books, easy enough."
"No, it's not. She said she has read them all and if you don't know someone who can smuggle banned books in Skyhold, I don't know what we can do."
Trevelyan thought for a moment then an idea formed. "So, we need to find someone who can deliver books from Tevinter? This is what you are talking about?"
"Yes. Tevinter doesn't lack of smutty and decadent literature for sure."
Maxwell gave Varic's arm a light squeeze. "Don't worry; I will take care of this. At least to help you sleep at night without having to worry about Seekers coming to kill you."
"All right, gang! We can start with one-on-one melee combat. Evie you will fight against Michael."
Ryan motioned to his friends to take their places and backed off. Evie, armed with a wooden staff looked worried at Michael's sword. "This should be interesting, fighting without magic."
The Inquisitor stopped to watch them sparring and Michael aware of his opponent being the Herald's sister, fidgeted. "I … uhm … I will try not to hurt her… Your Worship."
Maxwell laughed. "Oh, by all means, show her that you are serious. She is just a woman with a stick."
"Hey! You come and fight with me, Templar. I don't care that you have the glowing hand, I will kick your arse anyway." – Evie stuck her tongue at her older brother.
Chantelle lost her patience. "Start fighting, now! I don't want to clean stables because of you lots."
With a smirk, Michael attacked Evie sending her down. The girl retaliated by cutting the legs out of him with her staff. He pushed her back with his shield but Evie rolled outside of his sword's way. Then she faked a run for his left side and when Michael turned to watch she brought the staff in front of his neck and dragged him to her, then sweeping one leg on his, she put him down again. Since she forgot to let go of her staff, Evie fell on top of Michael.
"Yes! I made it!"- And she started to jump up and down on his body. Michael's face became a deep shade of red and he lost the power of speech at the way how Evelyn, oblivious of the effect she had on him, still sitting in his lap, cheered.
Evelyn was oblivious of other things too; such as Michael's groin increasing in size and her riding skills having a deadly effect on the poor Templar.
Chantelle giggled and Ryan looked over the Herald to see what he has to say at his sister's display of tactical skills.
"Evie?" – Maxwell tried to keep his face serious, without so much success –"You might want to get up now."
Still sitting on Michael's lap, Evie turned to face her brother. "Why? I just sit comfortable here, I won, no?"
The turn Evie made sent a shock down on Michael's spine. Finally his body reaction didn't escape Evie's. When she felt the bulge in his breeches, pressing against her womanly parts, she gasped in shock, her face taking the same shade of red as his.
Jumping like burned by fire, Evie closed her eyes and covering them with her hands, ran faster she could.
Ryan helped Michael to rise from the ground and whispering to his friend he tried to cover from other people's view the reason why Evie ran. "You better get a cold bath, man. A really cold bath." Michael gave him a killing look and keeping the shield to cover his middle, he went to follow his friend's advice.
Azzura came back the next day after Cullen and Maxwell's talk. The Commander saw his horse being taken to the stables after she gave him a quick kiss on his nose. Cullen smiled at that display of affection; the Warden loved his horse and the stallion didn't complain at all. Then it hit him; she will soon go to Ostagar and she needed a horse. Tempest would do for her, and she would take care of him, he was sure of that. Cullen never let anyone ride his horse and thinking to give it to her for that long period of time made him realize that he began to trust her a little.
He wanted to go to see her but the day flew by between setting up guard rosters, moving people around different companies and checking the pile of reports he had. Then Rylen came back from his mission lasted almost four months and Cullen wanted to present him Ser Lawrence. They ended up talking until late at night and he was sure that Azzura already went to sleep, so he went back to his office.
He tried to read a book but couldn't really concentrate on the words. Leaving his room, Cullen walked on the battlements, his feet taking him towards Amell's quarters. She requested her rooms to be up on the battlements and the only tower available and in a good condition to be habitable it was the one at the far end of the gates. Cullen could walk straight to it from his own side of the keep.
To his surprise he saw light coming from the window and his heart beat faster. He might be able to see her in the end.
He knocked swiftly on the door, twice but he received no reply. When he pushed the door, it opened and he hurried inside. He froze at the sight of Azzura leaned on her desk with head resting over her hands. Cullen calmed down when he saw her shoulders moving slowly, she was sleeping on her books.
Azzura's hair was loose and the curls fell over her face, dangerously near to the burning candle. Trying to not make any noise, he went and took the candle and placed it on a shelf nearby.
A smile showed up on his lips and his honeyed eyes shone with mirth. His heart melted at that view he had forever stamped in his soul. She used to fell asleep on her books in the Circle with the hair spread all over. He would wake her up with a soft kiss and she would tangle her hands in his curls, happy to see him.
Cullen took a strand of hair between his fingers, careful to not wake her up.
"You should take your gloves off; you can't feel it with your gloves."
He breathed heavily at that memory of her words. Slowly, without really thinking, he took off his leather glove and touched again her hair. It was like the way he knew it, soft and silky. Bending forward he placed a kiss on that curl between his fingers.
His eyes fell on the papers she was reading.
Memories of the Third Blight, by Warden Belinda Snow.
Treaties of the Grey wardens, First Warden Lorian McTavish,
Taint and Rare Healing Plants with Applied magic, by Elenisa Mari'el
Some other papers had the Tevinter Chantry sigil. They were written in a code he didn't understand but he could see Azzura's annotations on them.
"To be further investigated."
"Dispose of him, quietly." Cullen felt a chill down on his spine. Of course she would give such orders; she was the Right hand of the Divine and acting as spy master too, since her mentor died.
"I need more proof, can't act on just a rumor". Now he smiled, she won't act in a rush, which was good.
"The Divine should consider him ready for testing. He might be a good addition, low level permissions for now." Poor sod, who knew what that testing meant, only to be accepted in the Shadowhunters ranks.
A name on a half-finished letter drew his attention away from the Tevinter secrets.
"Dear Alistair,
As I was saying in my last letter, you have to stop feeling guilty for what you have done. We both knew what the risks were when we entered those doors. You did a great job with Ferelden, I am proud of you.
I do still love you "
Cullen's hand faltered and he touched the inkpot in his rush to retreat from the desk. Horrified, he saw the ink dripping on the letter and the small river already formed, heading to her face… and stopping just below her cheek and nose. He ran to the door and sneaked out. His last glance to the mage imprinted a scene that would give him nightmares for days. Still in the fog of sleep, Azzura leaned her face on the desk and straight into the pool of ink.
When he got to his office, his first thought was to pray to the Maker that she never finds out who was in her office. Also he hoped that she could get rid of the ink stain in the morning, at least he hoped that she had a spell for that because water won't be enough.
After the panic of being caught wore off, Cullen's mind got back to the letter he saw on her desk. He wished he never had; he hated himself now; for allowing her to send him mixed feelings and with himself for trying to let her trap him again in her web.
Next morning Azzura had a stiff neck for sleeping all night long on her desk. She rose from the chair to answer the knock on the door. The Inquisitor was waiting patiently perusing over some papers he had brought with him.
"Good morning, Lady Amell. I bro…."- Maxwell froze in mid-sentence, mouth hanging open.
Azzura tried to fix her hair into a makeshift bun. "Inquisitor, I never had this reaction from no man before. I'm certainly sure that I don't look that good in the morning."
Maxwell bit his lips and hid his eyes in the papers. "A woman is always beautiful in the morning, no matter how bad she looks. Ahem, you have … something on your nose… and face. Must have worked hard last night."
There was no mirror in her office so she went and picked up her sword and mirrored in the shiny blade.
The sword clattered on the floor where it fell. "Maker's arse! Andraste's tits and Mythal's snickers!"
Maxwell couldn't hold on anymore; hearing the Hero bad mouthing gods and prophets was too much.
"Lady Amell, I hope you are a skilled enough mage to do something about that ink on your face." – Pretending to look closer, he grinned again – "Or maybe not. A dalish could find it a poor attempt to copy their tattoos. So endearing."
She gave him a bad eye and went to clean the ink, without much success. "Sod it! What I am going to do? I can't show up like this."
"Let me see if Solas can help. I bet that he has a spell for everything."
"Solas? A bald elf with big, warm eyes? It is he real?"
The Inquisitor laughed at her surprise." Oh, he is. Although I would refrain to call him warm."
When the mage came, Azzura's eyes became even bigger. "Solas?"
"Da'len, I was waiting for you."
Maxwell looked at both mages, confused. "You know each other? Why didn't you tell me?"
"We have met in the Fade. Solas asked me to come to see him."
"The Fade, yeah. Mage business, Templars beware. Well, I will let you talk and later we can meet in the war room, I have news for you."