The Inquisitor's Ghost

by nothelping

She met him in the dungeons of the White Spire. She was the only one who could see him, remember him. Five years later, and Cole was back in her life, appearing out of thin air, just like the ghostly apparition he was, tempting her with something she could never have. Because every mage knew: Never take a demon into your soul. You'll change yourself forever.

10. Chapter 10 – Tables Meant For Wars

The Inquisitor's Ghost

Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls.

Chapter 10 – Tables Meant For Wars

Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just

- Benedictions 4:10

The next day, the Inquisitor made her way slowly to the War Room where her advisors and companions were waiting for her. She was not dressed in her typical ebony armor but rather in black tights, a jade sleeveless tunic, and black leather boots that almost reached her thighs. The form-fitting attire accentuated her tall, slender figure, emphasizing her lean muscles and slight feminine curves. Around her neck was the black leather necklace she was never seen without with the hand-carved wooden charm of a single star hanging from the top of a half crescent moon.

Her hair was a wildly unruly pile of curls that tumbled down to the small of her back, making her identity unmistakable. The shocking fiery red color gave her a wild and fierce look, like that of a lioness as she moved with sleek litheness through the halls of Skyhold. A thick, tightly-coiled crimson curl hung into large, expressive blue-green eyes that were lined with a thatch of charcoal lashes as her fingers dragged tenderly along the stone walls as she passed, as if she cherished each piece of stone that made up her new home.

The Inquisitor was not a pretty girl, at least not in the conventional sense. She did not look soft and feminine, dainty or fragile. She did not look to be made of delicate flower petals like other women her age, but rather of solid steel sharpened and forged from the fires of life, chipped by the worst it had to offer. She was strong and tough, radiating resilience and conviction, yet her turquoise eyes were skittish and untrusting, like an animal waiting for a hunter to ambush her.

Looking into those blue-green eyes, you'd see the hardness that only going to hell and pulling yourself back gave a person. She was a woman who'd been fighting for longer than any person should, one who'd seen too much, lost too much, been through too much. Though the exterior was tough as dragon scales, the inside was scarred. Scarred and wounded, but not broken. Never broken.

It made her different. It set her apart. The refugees, soldiers, guests, and servants of Skyhold gossiped about her often, discussing how differently she acted from the others, how she always avoided other people as though afraid of them, how she had power no one person should have, how she checked every shadow she encountered as if searching for something, or someone.

Strange, they said in hushed tones behind their hands. Reclusive. Hard. Untrusting.

What had happened to her to make her that way? They wondered.

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The Inquisitor slowly dragged her fingers lovingly across the wall of the throne room, oblivious to the dozens of people going about their daily lives around her, each giving her odd looks as they passed.

She winced when the material of her tunic stuck to the mostly dried blood on her back and pulled, causing the wound there to reopen. On the trip back to Skyhold from Crestwood, the claws of a wyvern had scratched her when they'd accidently walked into their nest. There was a large gash on the small of her back that burned and itched something fierce. The health potions she'd taken hadn't done much to heal it. She wished she knew healing magic so she could take care of it herself. She didn't want to bother the healers with it when they had more important things to do.

The Inquisitor opened the door to Josephine's office and walked in, glancing around nervously, just waiting for the Ghost of the Spire to pop out of the shadows.

But he didn't.

She couldn't help but wonder if Cole had left Skyhold. Was he really gone this time? Would she ever see him again? Part of her was glad he was gone, knowing it was the best thing for everyone if she never saw him again. The other part kept searching the shadows with an undeniable flicker of hope.

Dark circles were under her eyes from lack of sleep the night before due to Cole's unexpected late night visit. Her body was still humming with the memory of his touch. But each time she saw him it seemed to be a different Cole that greeted her. There were so many sides to him.

There was the lost soul - the young man who was so desolately lonely, so utterly alone in a world that could not see him and could not remember him.

There was the Ghost of the Spire - the merciless killer who knowingly murdered innocent mages in cold blood just to feel alive.

There was her protector - the one who risked everything to ensure no harm came to her.

There was the rogue - the lean, strong predator who could wield a dagger with such proficient skill the blade seemed more apart of his body than anything else.

There was the man - the one who'd kissed her senseless in the dungeons, leaving her with an ache she still felt five years later.

And then there was the demon - the darkness that lurked in the shadows of his eyes that promised nothing but danger, possession, blood, and death.

Cole was unlike anything or anyone else. So strange, otherworldly, and dangerous yet compassionate, gentle, protecting. A demon, a man, a killer, a friend, a threat, a protector. A thousand little contradictions wrapped in riddles coated in rugged, intense, broody, sensual….

Nope. Don't go there, she chastised herself. Demon, she reminded herself. You are a mage. You can't think of a demon like that. And Cole is a demon.

But it didn't make any sense. When she'd first met Cole she'd been so sure he wasn't a demon. She was a spirit medium. Ever since she was a child she could sense demons and spirits. She could feel them watching mortals or trying to cross the Veil. She had not sensed Cole as such. She had been so sure Cole was human. But demons were masters of deception. A clever demon could've found a way to hide his true nature from her. But that would require deception on Cole's part and the thought of Cole intentionally deceiving anyone rubbed her the wrong way. She just didn't think Cole had the ability to act so maliciously.

You saw him murder an innocent girl in cold blood, a little voice reminded her and she cringed. The memory of it was never far from her conscious thought. It lurked on the outskirts of her mind, pouncing out periodically with taunting reminders of his culpability and his betrayal of the trust she'd given him when trust was the hardest thing she could ever give another person. Every person in her life had betrayed her, each form of treachery leaving its mark on her flesh and on her heart. Cole's had been the worst.

Last night Cole had said he'd wanted to stay at Skyhold. A part of her wanted him to, wanted her friend back, but she was afraid he would start killing innocents again, the people the Inquisition had promised to protect. He'd said he'd killed the mages in the dungeons of the Spire to help them, that they wanted to die, but he'd also said he'd needed to kill them to stay real. Would he kill her too? She didn't think so, not after Haven. But maybe it was all an act meant to lower her guard. Maybe he was manipulating her, deceiving her into thinking him harmless. Nastiness that looked like niceness was why she had trust issues. There was nothing a demon wouldn't do to possess the mage that caught its interest. Maybe that's what was happening to them.

Something Malcolm Hawke often said came back to her: Mage's who are being manipulated rarely know it until it's too late. Malcolm Hawke had taught her the tricks demons played to gain the trust of any mage foolish enough to listen. Never let it get close. You can never let a demon get close. Never trust them, Ember. Never.

When the Inquisitor reached the War Room without incident she tried her best to ignore the little dip of disappointment in the pit of her belly when Cole had failed to appear. She pushed the feeling down and pushed through the door.

"Hello kiddos," the Inquisitor said pleasantly in greeting as she strolled into the War Room right up to the War Table.

Her three advisors and companions, less Blackwall and Solas, all turned to face her with greetings and smiles. She didn't know where Solas was and she still didn't trust Blackwall. She didn't feel comfortable with letting the Warden out of the stables until this whole thing with the Wardens was dealt with.

"So, who's skull are we bashing in today, boss?" Bull asked merrily, crossing his massive grey arms over his equally massive grey chest that was bare and severely cut with muscle and peppered with scars. "Please tell me it's a dragon. Please tell me it's a dragon."

"Not today, Bull," she replied and he pouted. "I want to continue breaking apart and tearing down Corypheus' allies while we search for his weakness. Corypheus has invested great time and effort building a trusted inner circle. He's recruited the red templars, but we have no idea who their leaders are. The red templars made up the majority of the force that attacked Haven."

Each and every one of them fell deathly silent and had a clenched jaw, narrowed eyes, and a flaring of temper at that last remark.

The Inquisitor nodded in understanding. "I know you all want to hit the red templars back for Haven. None more than I." She sighed in irritation and folded her arms. "Unfortunately, our intel on the red templars adds up to effectively nothing." Aquamarine eyes tightened with annoyance. "That is unacceptable to me. I want to know more about the red lyrium. I want to know why they take it and what it does to them. I want to take the red templars down. I want justice for our people that were killed at Haven. I want to… to…" Her voice trailed off as she watched in shock as Cole appeared suddenly, completely out of thin air, on the other side of the War Table in between Varric and Bull.

She shook her head to clear it. Surely she had been mistaken…

But she wasn't. Her heart came to a stuttering stop with dismay as she stared at him staring at her, the morning light spilling in through the floor-length windows behind him turning his hair to glittering handspun gold.

This time there was no mistaking his presence, and her stomach fluttered nervously. An emotion that felt uncomfortably close to panic laced with elation washed through her and she was dismayed by the effect his sudden presence was having on her pulse rate.

The Inquisitor didn't acknowledge Cole's presence, which was a good thing because it appeared no one else could see him but her. She stood stock-still, staring into deep blue eyes, while Leliana began speaking to the group, giving the Inquisitor an odd look at her sudden silence.

The Inquisitor tried to focus on the room, to calm her reaction into a manageable proportion. With supreme effort she focused on something other than him, and forced herself to stare at the earring in Varric's ear.

But it didn't work.

After a while of pretending she hadn't noticed him, Cole started toward her. Her thoughts straightened and her attention became riveted by the graceful and fluid way he moved around the War Table, never breaking eye contact with her, his pace slow, measured. Her pulse pounded, adrenaline surging in her blood, her anticipation mounting as he drew closer to her. She felt unease of not knowing what he was doing or thinking or-

"Inquisitor?"

"Yes, Josie?" Ember wiped suddenly moist and clammy hands on her black tights and tried to catch her breath as she met the ambassador's gaze.

"I said, are you well?" Josephine repeated.

"I'm… er… I'm fine," she answered absently as she tried to ignore the man, ghost, oh Maker, that continued to draw closer to her, completely unseen to everyone but her. "You were saying about… ah… about the red lyrium shipments?"

Josephine nodded before she continued, updating the others on the red lyrium shipments she'd discovered. The Inquisitor listened to Josephine, refusing to turn her head to look again.

Moments later, the Inquisitor's back snapped taut as she felt Cole come to stand directly behind her, close enough for their clothing to brush. She could feel him and there was no pretending not to notice him now. His breath stirred her hair, raising the hairs at her neck and sending shivers down her spine. With the War Table pressing against her stomach and Cole at her back, she felt trapped. He was imposing and invading, eating up her personal space that she desired so much in order to breathe properly. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Was he messing with her, trying to intimidate? If he was, it was working, but it also made her angry.

Ember turned her head over her shoulder to glare at him, and realized he was a lot closer than she'd thought. Close enough to catch his scent and feel the warmth of his body heat, though no part of him was touching her. Her eyes flickered up to meet his and the dark shadows in his eyes spilled into hers. She could feel a faint stirring deep inside her, a fluttering little pulse that seemed to intensify with each throbbing second those eyes refused to release hers.

Just when she began to think he was so close for no other reason than to freak her out, his eyes shifted down to her back. Long, callused fingers slipped under the hem of her tunic and lifted her shirt up slightly causing a soft quake to work its way up her spine and down her arms. Because she was partially turned toward him, she could see him eying the gash on the small of her back with a troubled expression.

A tingle rippled over her as his pale hand ghosted over the bare flesh of her back just over the cut, making every hair stand at attention. Flames raced through her body and a profound shiver followed in its wake. She inhaled a shaky breath, then took another as she fought the instincts that screamed for skin-to-skin contact.

"Inquisitor? Did you hear me?" she barely heard Cullen say through the loud pounding of her heart in her ears.

Her head snapped around to find her advisors and her companions staring at her as if she'd grown two-heads. "So… umm… what is your recommended course of action, Commander?" She hoped that didn't sound too insane.

"I say we hit the red lyrium shipments hard," Cullen answered firmly, surprising her that she'd guessed right. "Attack enough shipments and the red templar leaders will be sure to surface and expose themselves. Once we know who they are, we tear them apart."

The Inquisitor nodded. "Alright. Let's send some of Leliana's scouts to… ahh…" Her voice caught on a sound that was a cross between a cry and a gasp as long cool fingers brushed the small of her bare back, smearing something jelly-like and cool over the gash. Her mouth remained open though no words came out, her throat working as fire licked beneath her skin.

"What's wrong, sweeting?" Leliana asked with concern.

"The Inquisitor is clearly thinking of me naked and is therefore unable to form a coherent thought," Bull stated confidently with a smirk. "The tavern wench made the exact same sound when I walked into the kitchens without a scrap of clothing on."

"Frigging what?!" Sera shouted, outraged. "I eat that food, you arse! I don't want your big veiny, grey cock flopping around and dipping into my banana pudding, yeah. Frickin' gross!"

Bull's eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know it's veiny?"

The Inquisitor wasn't listening. She'd turned around until she was face to face with Cole and their chatter had already become background noise behind her. From this position she was eye level with his throat. Their torsos were inches apart, his knee touching the side of her leg a little. Just as their proximity and the intensity of holding eye contact was becoming truly devastating for her, Cole went even further and leaned in toward her. The distance between them narrowed to nothing as he reached around her and pressed an adhesive bandage to the small of her back, covering the gash there. The fabric of his leathers brushed her chest, though his actual torso never touched hers. His face hovered just above hers, and thankfully the angle gave her a chance to break that soul-reaching eye contact. Her heart was pounding in her throat as his hand brushed against her bare hip briefly as he lowered his arm to his side again and slowly backed up.

She couldn't deny the bursts of pure heat that were shooting through her, nor how his touch caused every nerve ending in her body to come alive. Despite knowing what he was, she was still devastatingly drawn to him. It must be a biological defect that she craved something inhuman and so dangerous that it was destined to destroy her. A signal of danger wormed its way through her and activated a sudden need for flight.

The Inquisitor glanced away from Cole and slid out from between his body and the War Table. "I have to… ugh… excuse me," she muttered to the others as she fled toward the door, the edges of her body thrumming with unease and agitation.

The moment she walked out of the War Room and was in the long hallway walking toward Josie's desk, she heard soft footfalls come close behind her. Fuming, she turned around and was slightly alarmed to find Cole standing so close.

"You're angry," Cole murmured.

Her brows furrowed, and she had to crane her neck back just to look up at him, his lean frame towering over hers. "Yes. I'm angry."

A semi-nervous, endearing gleam entered his eye. "I didn't know if you wanted them to see me."

"What was that in there?" Her words were as tight as her spine. "What were you doing?"

He blinked. "You're injured. I wanted to help."

"Cole…" She paused to swallow the lump in her throat. "Why are you here? I thought we talked about this last night."

"Because you… I-I… you…" Cole chewed his lip, and the familiarity of it pulled on something tender inside of her. "You do something to me. I can't… I don't understand." He looked away from her for a second in frustration before his gaze returned to her. "I return to you. I can do nothing else."

For a long while, she felt paralyzed in mind and body as she stared at him. "You can't stay here, Cole," she whispered, her voice small and strained. "We've already discussed this."

Blonde eyebrows snapped together. "But… but I… they need me," he uttered urgently. "No one else is listening!"

Her eyes shifted away from his, unable to see the distress there. "I'm sorry, Cole," she whispered and she truly was. "But I'm responsible for these people. I swore I would protect them. Given what you are… what I've seen you do… I just can't risk-"

"It started out helping, taking the fear away. I took too much. I see that now," he murmured in a hushed tone. "I was wrong before. A monster. Nothing but darkness. I'm not that. Not anymore. I'm different. I heal the helpless. Give hope where there is hurt."

Her eyes narrowed on him. "Why should I believe you could help now?"

"Because of you." His voice was thick. "You've changed me, dear heart."

Her stomach fluttered at the sound of that endearment uttered so softly. She'd never heard it before him and she didn't know why he called her it. She had a feeling it meant something to him, like he was trying to tell her something, but she didn't know what.

He cleared his throat. "Being me made you gone. It hurts too much. I can't be me, have to be someone who never killed. Help enough, and I'm different. I'm not me. Believe it to become it."

The Inquisitor looked down at her boots, breathing deep, her insides twisting. After a moment, she forced herself to meet his eyes but for only a second, unable to bring herself to hold them for longer. "I want to believe you. I do. But the people here at Skyhold have entrusted me with their lives and I must put them before everything else." Her gaze held to the floor. "I'm sorry, Cole. I really am. I want to give you a chance, but…" she released a heavy sigh.

Shaking her head, she made to move passed him and return to the War Room. Her calculated slide past him was truncated by the arm that glided across her hip and around her. The moment he touched her, her heart began to flutter in her chest in a rhythm akin to panic. She froze, the side of his body pressing against the length of hers and her skin heated and tingled at the contact.

With her heart pounding in her ears, Ember turned her head to the side, chin touching her shoulder, and then her eyes slowly dragged up to his. A blonde lock fell over his eyes that were like blue smoke and impaling her with such an intense look that her pulse rate soured. Caught, with only inches between them, the very air seemed to crackle and she had to force herself to breathe or else she'd pass out.

There was a long and painful silence, a shift in the mood that seemed to electrify like a current, before he rasped softly, "You don't see me. You keep yourself higher in the sky, further away from me. If you saw me, you would see that I am no danger now. But you're afraid to see me. You only see a demon in the shadows, feeding, devouring bone and blood, drenched in death. Blind to all the good to be offered. You look no further than what you want to see. Beware the whispers for they whisper lies!"

She fought to contain the sharpness of her tone as she responded, "You don't know what you're asking of me. With trust comes vulnerability. With vulnerability comes the possibility that you'll be betrayed. You lay yourself wide open and pray you can tell the difference between those who have your back and those who have it long enough just to stab you in it."

"I betrayed you." The words were said with grim dejection.

The statement struck her in the heart like an arrow, opening up a wound that had refused to heal. "You weren't the first."

Cole's expression turned dismal. "Not again. That's not me."

Her lips curved ruefully. "I've thought it wasn't other people, too."

Cole stared at her, looking into her eyes, his own eyes flickering back and forth, studying whatever he saw there. "I see it. The part of you that forgets I'm me cares. Deeply. You want it to go away because you're afraid. I will never hurt you."

"Trust is not 'You will never hurt me'. It is 'I trust myself with whatever you do'." Her chin lifted. "I've seen the things you've done, Cole."

Wretched blue eyes glistened as he struggled for words before releasing a sharp breath and looking away to stare down the long hallway. "I'll… I'll leave you alone. I… I'll go. If that's what you want."

She didn't respond. Instead, she watched his strong throat work before he murmured, "I don't want to go. I don't." Cole stopped looking down the hallway as he spoke, his attention shifting to her and sharpening to a fierce intensity. "I want to stay, even if I'm just watching from the shadows, protecting until death."

"Why?"

"Because…" Those blue pools poured into her. "Because if you don't survive, then I'm all alone again."

Her breath caught in her throat as she suddenly felt his loneliness like a tangible presence, like a shroud blanketing her, smothering her and setting a hollow pain churning inside her stomach.

His long, calloused fingers flexed on her hipbone, the pressure of his fingertips kindling a warm sensation. "You were the first one who could see me, remember me. You were my first friend. My only friend, for a long time. When I hurt people to remain connected, I lost you. When I found out I wasn't human, when I grew, I lost Rhys. I lost my only two friends. The world closed in and got so small I couldn't breathe." There was a wealth of pain in his voice; she could hear it—feel it. "I don't want to go back to that."

Cole was quiet for a while, his expression bleak and brooding. "But I'll go. If that's what you want. I'll find the part inside you that doesn't fit and set it free, making a shape that makes sense without me." The palm of his free hand lifted to settle against the soft curve of her cheek, pale fingers tangling in the deep red scarlet of her curls. "Is that what you want?"

Their eyes met, and she could feel the magnetism that had existed since the day they met, pulsing and pulling. A band seemed to tug their bodies closer. She could feel their shared connection in her chest and see it in the dilation of his eyes. The howl of memories of kisses in dark places was like a heavy wind that refused to be ignored.

Did he lean in the slightest bit? Was the hand against her cheek shifting to hold her in place?

Her heart was thumping madly in her chest. If he did it she'd run. If he did it she'd run. Because she wanted it. He was a demon and she was a mage, it was wrong and unnatural, and she wanted it because he just happened to be looking at her like she was something cherished, something treasured, something… special.

He was definitely leaning in.

She stood there, transfixed and tremblingly, watching his careful, inexorable advance. His emotions wrapped around her – need, confusion, loneliness, desperation – causing her pulse to become erratic.

Cole licked his lips and all of her attention was suddenly riveted on his mouth. She knew she should push him away, should turn her head. But when his callused hand tilted her face towards his and he nudged her cheek with his nose, his lips parting with the slightest sound that bordered on pain, she realized she couldn't.

So close. So dangerous.

She felt the air catch in her throat at his proximity, aware that what she felt between them was too real and powerful to allow this to happen without suffering damaging and irreversible consequences.

"Don't," she heard herself say on a ragged exhale.

"It's hard not to." His voice lowered, rippled, close enough that she could feel the brush of his lips against the corner of her mouth as he spoke. "I've never wanted like this before."

Silence settled, heavy and thick. He was panting just as fervently as she was.

"Are you afraid of me?" he rasped roughly, his lips brushing her lips so lightly they were hardly there.

"I'm not afraid of you as much as what you're capable of."

"Inquisitor, it seems you've met Cole."

They both jumped apart at Solas' close murmur.

Ember turned to face the older elf, her cheeks roasting, and immediatly began stammering, "Yes. I know him… I mean, I just met him… ugh… yes," she muttered in reply, somehow summoning a voice that was in no way as casual as she wanted it to sound.

The look in Solas' eye told her that he knew everything and the corner of his mouth wouldn't stop ticking, as if he was fighting a smirk that threatened to take hold of his mouth. "I see. I suggest we discuss this further in the War Room with the others."

As soon as Solas disappeared through the doors to the War Room, The Inquisitor inhaled slowly, taking air into her expanding lungs, before exhaling slowly. After a few more breaths, her breathing slowed, returned to normal, to turned to face Cole.

Cole was smiling awkwardly at her and he looked nervous and it was terribly adorable. Maker help her, she was in so much trouble. Trouble didn't even begin to describe it. She'd never be able to explain what it was she felt with him. But whatever it was… it was strong.

"So, you've met Solas?" she asked, needing to say something to fill the silence.

Cole nodded. "Master of the dark that lies. He clings to all that remains of his world, seeking the power to restore it. But there are secrets in his eyes, secrets in his heart and soul, that will remain until the bones are dust and gone," he answered ambiguously. "I like Solas. Last night I told him I wanted to help. He thinks it's a good idea. He likes spirits. He gave me tea and cookies. I like cookies. Tea tastes funny."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Do you need to eat? Sleep?"

"I thought I had to," he answered. "At the White Spire I ate, drank, and slept. But when I learned what I was, I learned I didn't have to, that the old songs could pull me. But that changed."

"When did it change?"

"Haven."

She blinked. "What?"

"I grow tired now. I thirst." Cole gazed into her eyes before he murmured in a voice made husky with deep emotion. "I… hunger."

"How is that possible?"

His voice dropped to a soft murmur, "We can change, if we want it enough."

Her head tilted as she eyed him closely. "You really want to help, don't you?"

"Yes. You – the Inquisition – you help people. You make them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I want to help."

Those words, coupled with the honesty ringing in his voice, allowed her to give him a pebble of her trust.

"Alright, Cole," she said softly in capitulation. "This world is too bleak to spurn compassion offered so freely. I'll discuss your joining the Inquisition with my advisors and companions. But I warn you, they will be a hard crowd to win over."

Cole held her gaze for a long second, and then the corner of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. "They are there. Right in there. Let's go discuss discussing discussions," he replied eagerly.

She smiled at his impatience. "Let me finish my meeting with them and then I'll introduce you to them. Just… stay here. Right here. Okay?"

She could tell he was frustrated and disappointed in her response. "But I want to come with you. I want to join. Now."

"Just wait here, Cole. Right here. Don't move," she answered. "And… and stay out of trouble."

His head tilted. "Socks get wet when the tide rises."

Her eyes went heavenward. "Maker, give me strength."

The Inquisitor walked back into the War Room, feeling Cole's gaze boring into the back of her skull with each step. The moment the door slammed shut behind her, she heard Bull saying, "Do all of your stories begin, 'No shit, there I was,' Varric?"

The Inquisitor lifted her chin and spoke up, "Now, where were we?"

"Red templars. We've got a plan," Cullen answered. "We're going to travel to-"

In the blink of an eye, a body appeared out of thin air on top of the war table. Cole was crouched down on the balls of his feet on the war table with his elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling between his legs. He wore a large tattered brown hat that stretched from one shoulder to the other, the top around his head made of metal. The wide brim was lowered low over his face, concealing his eyes.

Clearly, he'd been unable to wait.

The entire room exploded into action, curses, and threats. Each of her companions and advisors drew their weapons and aimed them at the young man crouched on the war table, surrounding him.

"An assassin!" Cassandra yelled as she brandished her sword threateningly.

"No. Worse. How did you get in here, creature?!" Cullen barked as he thrust his sword forward toward Cole who didn't flinch or move a muscle, and even though she couldn't see them, she knew his eyes were locked on her face.

Panic licked her spine and caused her to jump to action. "Stop!" The Inquisitor ordered with authority as she moved to stand protectively in front of Cole.

"Get back, Herald. This creature is not what you think," Cullen stated, unaware that he'd said those exact words before at Haven.

"Everyone put your weapons down." The Inquisitor commanded in a strict voice. "Now!"

Slowly, her companions and advisors slowly lowered their weapons, but they did not sheath them.

"Off the war table, creature," Cassandra barked. "Now!"

Cole's lips quirked timidly beneath the brim of his hat. "Yes. I don't belong here. I'm not a war."

Cole hopped off the War Table and moved to stand beside the Inquisitor. He was nervous and on edge, clearly uncomfortable with all the eyes and blades on him. Yet, he'd let them see him, putting his life in danger, just so he could join the Inquisition?

The Inquisitor noticed Leliana's face was pinched and her eyes were narrowed on Cole, wearing the look she always wore whenever she was trying to remember something. "Do I know you?"

Cole's head turned toward the Left Hand, a woman he'd met before at the White Spire. "Old woman with a spirit of mercy within her. A large mountain of stones covered in singing crystals that cursed the feathered fiends that circled its head. Friends who'd helped those who needed it."

Leliana's eyes widened beneath her black cowl. "You were the Ghost of the Spire."

"Yes," Cole replied, unable to hide the guilt in his voice.

"The Ghost of the Spire," Vivienne hissed at Cole with disgust. "Your murders stirred the Circle into a frenzy. That was what brought the attention of the templars."

"I'm not that!" Cole cried.

"Countless deaths are on your head, demon. Are you satisfied with the result of your protection?"

"You're lying. You're… twist the words right, and it will show its true form. Blood or banishment, either will suffice. No. I'm not that," Cole said sharply with a slash of his hand. "Help the hurt, save the small. I want to help."

"How can you help?" Dorian asked, eying Cole with great interest.

"I can be hard to see and I'm good with a dagger. I can kill things that would hurt people," Cole replied eagerly. "I won't be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to. People can't see me, can't remember me."

"Wait a minute… so, you can cause people to forget you or even fail entirely to notice you? It's an ability of yours?" Varric asked, curious.

Cole nodded. "Yes." Ember couldn't see his eyes, but she could tell by the way his head angled toward her that he was looking at her. "But you and Rhys are different. The only ones. What you feel sticks, holding, heavy. I can't wash it away. I don't know why."

"Huh," Varric muttered thoughtfully as he scratched his cheek. "Can you do that for other people?"

"Yes. It makes me tired, and doesn't work if they're loud. Or angry. Or bright."

"But it worked on Corypheus at Haven," the Inquisitor pointed out.

Cole shifted awkwardly on his feet. "That was… different."

"How so?"

Cole's chin lifted and his blonde hair parted to reveal one ice blue orb. "It had to work, or else he'd kill you."

"So, you're a mage?" Dorian asked.

"No. Cole is a spirit who crossed the Veil and took human form," Solas supplied crisply. "Compassion defines his being. It is his purpose."

Bull folded his arms, discontentment written across his face. "Spirit or demon?"

Solas met the Qunari's gaze. "The two are not so dissimilar."

"Wait, aren't demons simply spirits with unique and sparkling personalities?" Varric asked.

"They were envious of those across the Veil," Solas answered. "Their desires alter, change, corrupt them."

"Either way, it's dangerous," Bull growled in disapproval.

"Hold it… the creepy scarecrow is a demon!" Sera cried with unconcealed revulsion.

"His name is Cole. I believe he wants to help," Ember said.

"You cannot trust this thing, Inquisitor!" Cullen snapped harshly. "You are a fool to believe anything it says!"

Cullen winced as the sharpness in his tone and at the sight of the scowl on the Inquisitor's face that was aimed at him. He wearily rubbed the back of his neck with an unsteady hand, letting out a long and slow breathe.

Cole's lips tipped down at the corners as he looked at Cullen before shifting his gaze to the Inquisitor. "He didn't mean to snap, but it's hard. He wants to take it, to be at his best, but he doesn't want that life. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests the chains."

"What did you just say?" Cullen hissed, rage and disbelief and fear rippling across his handsome features. "Are you reading my mind?"

Cole's head turned back to Cullen, eyes concealed by the brim of his hat. "Reading? No. Listening. Listening to your song. It is sad. You fear me because of an old pain, memories that stick in fragile places like tar. Cornered and tortured, demons asking questions, trying to break into a mind that wouldn't crack easily," he said. "I am not that."

"What… what is this?" Cullen gritted out, boiling with outrage. "How can it… how can it know such things?"

Ember spoke, "Cole can sense the pain of others. He also has… an innate power of persuasion."

"Interesting," Dorian murmured. "That little trick, when you dip into someone's mind and take a drink: do you choose what you're looking for or is it random?"

Cole shifted awkwardly. "It has to be hurt, or a way to help the hurt. They have to need me."

Dorian gestured with his hand. "So, you're using your powers to help people?"

Cole nodded. "I find people when their pain leaves them open. I ease the pain. I leave. They forget."

"Do me, Kid," Varric blurted out, overflowing with excitement. "What are you picking up on me?"

"Quiet, but the old song still echoes inside, almost like templars."

"Cool," Varric murmured, amber eyes glittering with curiosity. "What are you picking up on our fearless leader over there?"

"Listening, always listening, wanting desperately to know what starlight feels and thinks. But I only hear the noise in my own head. Defying and defiant, the rules don't apply to her. They never have."

Varric frowned. "So in other words, you got nothing."

"You are all blind!" Cassandra bellowed. "Don't you see? It is a demon influencing the minds of others. It is dangerous. It plays tricks in your head. Don't let him leave!"

Cole's gaze turned panicked. "I was trying to help!"

Cassandra brandished her sword and pointed it at him. "What type of demon are you – Pride? Rage? Desire?"

"Cole!" he cried frantically. "I'm just Cole!"

Sera had a longbow around her shoulders. Quick as a flash, she unslung the longbow and notched an arrow. "Mother Friggend Demon Shitebag!" she spat as she drew it and aimed at Cole's heart.

"Stop it! All of you!" Ember screamed in alarm as she thrust herself in front of Cole, protecting him.

Sera frowned. "But Inky-"

"STOP!" The Inquisitor bellowed. "If any of you hurt him, so help me, I'm going to start at your ankles, end at your neck, and break every bone in-between. Twice," she threatened, blue-green eyes backed by fire. "Am I understood?!"

Ember looked at Cole over her shoulder and gave him an assuring smile.

Cole's eyes were soft on her face beneath his hat. "Thank you, dear heart." His voice was a rough, low tone that created a tingling in her spine while also forming a knot in her throat. She could not believe he'd just called her that in front of everyone. She could feel Cullen's eyes drilling into her side profile and practically see Varric's wicked grin.

They broke eye contact to find everyone in the room staring at them.

The Inquisitor immediately put distance between them.

"Hold it…" Sera was flicking her gaze back and forth between them, like she was trying to put together a particularly challenging puzzle. "Do you two… know each other?"

Cole looked at Ember at the same time she looked at him. His lip barely curled up in a smile. Even at this distance, she could feel the impact of his penetrating gaze. That look haunted her dreams. The gleam that said there was something between them.

Ember licked her lips and tore her eyes away from the overwhelming power of Cole's gaze, unable to stare into the shadows that dwelled within them for another second. "Cole was the one who saved me at Haven."

"Well, then. It seems you have our gratitude for saving our dear Inquisitor, good sir," Josephine said diplomatically in her softly lilting voice. "I am Lady Montilyet, ambassador of the Inquisition. It is a pleasure to meet you, Cole," the stunningly beautiful Lady Montilyet said in her silky Antivan accent while batting her pretty grey eyes as she curtsied to him, immediately demonstrating her rank in society while also providing him with a wonderful view of her very generous cleavage. Ember had seen the ambassador execute that exact introduction many times before, and with it easily ensnare the hearts of both men and women alike.

"Hello," Cole answered awkwardly, his eyes shifting to the gorgeous brunette for not even a second before returning to Ember.

Josephine visibly started, blinking rapidly, obviously not used to such a quick dismissal of her irresistible charms. It was clear Josephine felt slighted by Cole's lack of interest in her. After a few moments, Josephine's expression changed and Ember didn't particularly like the way the gorgeous woman's grey eyes raked Cole's form, as if seeing him as a challenge she could conquer.

Cole must not have liked that look either for he moved closer to Ember, until he stood right next to her, his arm touching hers, and they both shuddered at the contact.

Vivienne's eyes narrowed on the spot where Cole's arm touched Ember's. "Inquisitor, darling," Vivienne started in a slow drawl in her distinguishable haughty tone. "This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here."

"Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven," Ember stated. "He saved a lot of lives. He saved mine. I believe he wants to help."

Ember ignored the way Cole's eyes shift to her face in quiet gratitude.

"And what will its help cost?" Vivienne replied harshly. "How many lives will this demon later claim?"

"How are you so sure Cole's a demon? Demons almost never look like something you'd mistake for a person, Vivienne," Dorian supplied.

Solas' chin lifted loftily. "The magister is correct. Demons normally enter the world by possessing something. In their true form, they look bizarre. Monstrous. But Cole has willfully manifested in human form without possessing anything or anyone, without being summoned or bound, and yet he appears human in all respects."

"In all respects?" Cullen asked.

Solas raised an eyebrow. "He has a body that is as human as yours, Commander."

Sera scratched her head while eyeing Cole like one did a rattlesnake. "So, wha? Creepy's got a prick filled with the Fade?" She snorted and then cackled at something in her head. "When it comes does it create a rift?"

"His body is just as any other young man's," Solas muttered to the other elf before addressing the group. "Cole is unique. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest we allow him to do so."

"I agree with Solas," Ember murmured as she continued to stare at Cole who was staring right back at her, missing the way Cullen's jaw clenched just enough to give away his displeasure.

"The people will not trust the Inquisition if they know we are harboring a demon, Inquisitor," Cullen began, his voice as firm as the set of his shoulders. "The soldiers will not allow it, the refugees will be fearful, the mages will revolt, and the nobles will stop funding us."

"I know about the templars - twisted, manipulated, corrupted," Cole burst out, desperate, grasping for straws that would allow him to stay.

Cullen's eyes narrowed on him. "How do you know that?"

"They are red inside," Cole replied. "I've been watching the templars at Therinfal Redoubt."

Ember asked, "What were you doing at Therinfal Redoubt?"

Cole shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I wanted the templars to stop me if I harmed people, but I had to stop them instead."

"Why?" Ember inquired.

"Most sounded the same, but the leaders they listened to were hurt, hollowed, sick with a new song. They swallowed lies until they sang with darker music. The sound hollowed them. They're heavy with forgotten songs to be big, to kill everything."

"Stop speaking in riddles, demon," Cassandra demanded. "Tell us why they take it?"

Cole sighed. "The leaders took the lyrium that is red from the leader, Samson, the one working for the Elder One. The red lyrium is different, darker. Daggers under the skin. It eats you inside, until you're nothing. They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done."

Ember froze in horror, a wave of pressure crashing from her throat to her gut. Her pulse quickened, her throat went dry, and her lips parted in fear. "D-Did you just say Samson?"

"Yes," Cole confirmed.

Ember tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "As in the ex-templar from Kirkwall with the lyrium addiction?"

Cole nodded. "Yes. The leader of the red templars."

Ember's terror-filled thoughts only fueled the tangle of apprehensive and dreadful knots twisting inside her gut. It was hard to breathe, to swallow, when everything inside turned to rock.

Shit.

The Inquisitor turned away to hide her expression from the others, not wanting them to see the dread she knew was showing on her face.

Shit, shit, shit.

She knew her past would come back to bite her in the ass, she just didn't expect this. Dammit, of all people it had to be Samson. She would need to discreetly overcome her own past to preserve in the present.

"What do you want to do, sweeting?" Leliana asked and the room grew quiet.

The Inquisitor placed her hands on the War Table as she thought. "I want a vote from the advisors. Do you think Cole should stay or go?"

Cullen voted no, while Leliana and Josephine voted yes, arguing that Cole had intel on the red templars that they sorely needed.

Ember already knew what she was going to do. She just prayed she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her entire life. After a long pause, she replied, "Regardless of what Cole is, he has knowledge we do not about the red templars. We need to go to Therinfal Redoubt right away and see what the hell is going on there. Corypheus' influence is at work and we need to stop it. Cole will accompany us on this mission."

Cullen stepped toward her, shaking his head. "But Inquisitor-"

She held up her hand and spoke with authority. "Cole will accompany us on this mission. I promise nothing else. We will discuss what to do with Cole after we return from Therinfal Redoubt."

She didn't miss the slight flex of Cullen's jaw as he answered. "This is a mistake, Inquisitor. But I will trust your judgment."

The Inquisitor nodded. "We will all go to Therinfal Redoubt. Cullen and Leliana will join us as well." Flames danced in the green fields of her eyes, hardly any blue showing. "The red templars will pay for Haven. We will show them our hearts, and then show them theirs."

"Hell yeah!" Bull exclaimed slamming a fist in his palm.

"Dismissed," Ember ordered.

Vivienne held her head high, her eyes raking the Inquisitor with apparent disappointment and scorn. "Inquisitor, whether Cole is a spirit or a demon is irrelevant. Neither can be trusted. Remember that, darling." And with that, the enchantress turned on her heel and left the others in her wake.

The Inquisitor's companions and advisors nodded at her in understanding before filing out of the War Room after the Lady of Iron, until all that remained was Cole on one side of the War Table and Ember on the other, her fingers drumming on the wooden surface.

"Before we go on this mission, Cole, we have to get a few things straight," she began, her voice carefully devoid of emotion. "If you are to fight alongside us, I expect you to follow order."

The weight of his gaze settled on her. "Where you lead, I will follow."

"I believe you wish to help, but I will not allow you to threaten the lives of innocents." The flash that kindled in her more green eyes was down right dangerous. "If you start killing innocents again, Cole… I will kill you."

"Yes. If I become a monster again, cut me down."

She pushed away from the War Table. "Do not doubt me. I will do it."

"Good. I don't want to hurt innocent people again."

She blinked, her gaze turning incredulous. "You're… serious, aren't you?"

He pinned her with a look beneath his hat. "Yes. I hope you are, too."

All the color immediately washed from her face as she thought about it… about actually killing him. Could she do it? Could she kill Cole? Then again, how could she not if he actually started killing innocent people again? For a second or two, she jittered on the ragged fringe of cold, raw panic as the thought dragged across her brain like a piece of broken glass.

Ember blinked and Cole was suddenly across the room, leaning into her. She didn't know how he'd gotten from all the way over there to right in front of her, but he was there now, in her personal space, making it his own.

Yes, she could kill him. And it would destroy her.

She looked up at him, her eyes desperate and pleading. "Please… please don't put me in that position, Cole. I couldn't bear it if…"

He stepped closer, their knees brushing. "No one, especially you, gets hurt because of me." His voice and those eyes vibrated through to the marrow of her bones.