Solas looked up to the stars, his eyes looking over the fading lights of Fen'harel, the dread wolf. He felt a knot within his stomach as he stared into the sky. His mind searching for answers to the feeling within himself, and coming back with no real answer. His body couldn't understand what he was feeling as he laid there, and his mind didn't want to answer. he shook his head, pulling his eyes away from the cluster of stars above them. His mind shifting to the attention of the warm body beside him. He had enjoyed Anara's company, her presence there with him, even when she was asleep.
Her breath was shallow as she slept, barely audible to the sounds around him. He pulled her close, his lips pressing against her temple as he held her close. Listening to the soft sigh that escaped her lips, resting on his skin. She was deceivingly warm compared to the cold around them, the furs only keeping the heat in. Her skin burned like the smoldering remains of coals, leading only to one's downfall if not careful. He could feel his concern fade with her touch, and her warmth, regardless of it's deceptiveness. He watched as her lips parted and closed, letting out sighs and small groans. Her nose would wiggle like a rabbit when she felt a small breeze. He smiled to himself, his arms never wanting to let go of her, holding her as close as he can. He feared that she was an illusion, a trick of the light or of his mind. So he held her close, if she was a dream he would never wake. Not from this, not from the feeling that he had for her. A human.
He turned to the sky, watching the night slowly make its exit. As the hues and colors of an awakened world began to bloom again.
Cullen walked through the gates of Haven, his body and mind wracked from the night. A sense of shame and disbelief washing over him. He had appeared a fool, thinking he could've gotten away with it forever. His mind wandered as he lugged his armor through the town, sword in his sheath. He would retire from his men for the day, gather himself, his thoughts, and in time, reign himself in from his curiosity.
He could feel the itch in the back of his mind, the tingle that he had been avoiding. It had felt so long since he had Lyrium. He had wished to be his old self once again, to be the Templar and Commander that everyone expected. He felt the sweat on his brow as he thought about it, the temptation of it. Burning through his veins and coursing through him, strong enough to challenge any mage. Strong enough for her.
Cullen groaned as he entered his tent, looking at Cassandra standing there, looking at his Lyrium kit.
"Commander, you've been gone awhile." Cassandra turned, her eyes looking over the commander almost judgingly.
"I had an errand to run, wanted to scout the area." He lied through his teeth, hoping that Cassandra would leave it at that.
"Commander, if you're not up to the task.."
"I am. Just not, right now. I have, alot on my mind." Cullen dropped his armor on the floor, taking the kit from Cassandras hands, looking at the old wooden box.
" Commander, you don't need to go back for the inquisition. It is your choice." She resided to his fate as she turned from him, walking to the tent door, letting the cold air in. "I suggest Commander that you take a bath and clear your thoughts. We need you at your best."
The tent closed, Cullen was left to his thoughts, oh how he hated the idea of it.
Cassandra had walked around the town, taking over for Cullen for the time being. She ensured that the men had trained well for the day, looking over from time to time. Looking for the one they all called Herald.
Anara had expected more commotion, more people noticing her disappearance, but it felt that she was capable of coming and going as she pleased. " I suppose there's one thing good about being called, The Herald of Andraste." She turned to Solas, who had the ram's fur draped across his shoulders, keeping in his heat, " They don't seem to care if I go out and shag in the woods like some druid."
Solas had joined in her laughter as they walked through the town, her coat tied tightly around her body, her torn tunic no long discarded.
Solas turned to her, still laughing, "Maybe someday Vhenan, we won't have to hide out in the woods."
She smiled at his proposition, turning towards him, "But then everyone would hear us in this tiny town." A smile spread across their lips, remembering last night. Solas began to lean in, about to whisper something to her until the flash of a read head came to vision.
" There you are! We've been looking for you." Anara turned her head, looking at the Spymaster.
" I was out, Solas and I were getting some..Leather and fur, for the troops." She didn't know if Leliana had believed her lie or just humored her.
" Of course, Commander Cullen had errands to run as well, he should be in the War room as well. We'll see you there in a little while?"
She nodded to Leliana, "Yes, of course, just let me get rid of these."
Solas had given Leliana a nod as she turned to leave. The Spymaster becoming suspicious of the elf and his motives.
"Then I will see you later Vhenan. You know where I'll be."
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, "Of course I do." She watched as Solas turned, her eyes undressing him as he walked away.
"Is there something going on between you three?" Anara shrieked at the sound of the dwarf standing behind her.
"What!?" She turned, looking Varric in the face, his eyebrow cocked at her.
"Curly came back a few hours ago in a tiff. Then you and Chuckles show up. Gotta say, that's mighty suspicious."
She laughed to herself, trying to dispel the dwarfs overactive imagination, "I must say Varric, with that kind of imagination you can write a whole new romance series. A desperate love triangle between two mages and a Templar, sounds almost tragic don't you think?"
Varric chuckled, shaking his head, " I gotta hand it to you, you can pitch a story. But no, romance hasn't been my forte." Varric waved his arm, moving away from Anara as he walked back to his encampment.
" But it's so tragic! You could revolutionize the whole industry!" She shouted back at Varric, attempting to make the dwarf feel embarrassed. He just waved his arm, taking note to her words as he left.
"Damn, that was close." She mumbled to herself as she carried the leathers to the blacksmith, dropping them on the ground, "Heard you needed leather for armor." She heard missives and thank you's pour out from the mouths of the smiths, giving them more than what they needed.
She began to walk back to her hut, her coat no longer helping her keep the cold from affecting her body. She crossed her arms, hoping not to gain attention as she entered the door. She shivered as she raced around the room, trying to find something to put on, finding extra tunics in ranges of colors and materials. Her face twisted in confusion as she looked at the Plaideweave, yellow….No….
She had settled for a darkened grey, she tied the sash to her coat, preparing for an onslaught of cold wind waiting for her. But was instead met with the a cold silence, the wind had stilled and the sun had broken free. The light shining off the snow like a mirror, the only downfall she could think of right now.
She had moved towards the Chantry, knowing little of what awaited her there. She walked past the training grounds, her eyes looking over the seal of the inquisition on the door, nailed atop the crest of the Chantry. She remembered looking at that emblem when she was younger, how she rebelled against the Chantry and it's ways in the circle. How just that image could bring it all back.
It was raining in Ostwick, the seas outside churned in anger. The ships that came to port feared the rocky shores of the Circle tower. The bridge that lead to it had slipped into the waves, leaving the circle an abandoned island among the sea.
She had been angry, she remembered. She had made it through her Harrowing, and had recently assaulted the circles Knight-Commander. Some of the Templar's had demanded justice, that she be made tranquil, and the mages stood in silent obedience to their wishes.
Her magic had flared with her mood, as she lashed out against all that was around her. Splinters of wood and pages from books everywhere as she lost herself to the rage she felt.
" We only wish to hear the truth in front of the maker." A younger Templar walked forward his hands in front of him defensively. " Please sister, we must take you to the Chantry in Ostwick to face these charges."
" To the void with the maker, and to the void with you." She shouted across the room at the younger man who braced himself from a book, "You have NO right to call me sister after all this time. You abandoned me here, you all abandoned me here and now you expect me to submit?" The Templar's at the door had no experience against her magic. None strong enough to suppress her emotions.
" You had magic…" His words trying to justify.
"I was 8, and I've been in this circle for 17 years, I will not justify myself to anyone. Not to you." Her finger pointed to the Chantry cleric that stood at the door, "Not you." She pointed to the Knight-Captain, " And most certainly not YOU." She pointed at the young Templar standing there.
"Anara, please.."
" No, Tobias. I will not. I will not submit, not after what that man did to this circle, what he did to the mages here. Tell your maker of my crimes, he will see that I was right in defending myself. "
" You can be made Tranquil if you cannot control yourself." He urged to her under his breath.
" Make me Tranquil then, but I will not bend my knee to any of you." She shouted across the room, the Templar's uneasy by her words, the Clerics face twisted in anger as he turned away, leaving the mage to her fate.
" Anara, what have you done?" The young Templar looked at her, disappointment in his face. " You were sent here to be in the grace of the maker."
She whispered to herself, just loud enough for him to hear, "Young Tobias, the maker has no power here…"
Anara snapped herself back from her memories, feeling as if her hand would burn right through the wooden door to the Chantry. She braced it, opening to the empty aisle, her feet ringing through the halls. The war room was open to her presence.
Cullen stood there in silence, his back straightening to Anara's presence. He had noticed she changed her tunic, remembered the disrepair the last one was in.
" May I present Commander Cullen," His mind came back as he heard Cassandra introduce him, glad that she didn't know what has already transpired between them. He had tried to sound knowledgeable, and assuring. Trying to push the thoughts and memories of last night from his mind as Cassandra continued her introductions.
"This is Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat." Cullen was suddenly glad for the Antivans presence, making it easier to shift the attention away from himself to other people.
There was a curt nod between them, the Ambassador being the best diplomat that she can with the at times unruly mage.
"And of course, you know sister Leliana. She is our Spymaster." Anara had pulled her gaze over each person, giving them the acknowledgement and attention that they needed. Whatever diplomacy she learned seemed to come in handy at this moment. Until her eyes met with Cullen's, a piercing gaze that left the Commander feeling naked and afraid.
" Pleased to meet you all." the words rolling off her tongue, her eyes still in contact with Cullen's. A smirk appeared at the corner of her mouth as she looked towards Cassandra, paying attention to the Warrior.
They had argued between themselves for awhile, trying to decide between mages or Templar's.
Anara had understood the mages plight more. Never fully trusting all Templar's unfortunately, But Cullen kept trying to make his peace with her, trying to convince Anara that Templar's were a better option.
" Enough power poured into that mark…"
"Might destroy us all, Templar's could suppress the breach, weaken it…"
She could feel her teeth clench and her jaw tighten, she couldn't agree to this decision. No matter what, she wanted nothing to do with this idea.
" They're calling you the Herald of Andraste. " Cassandra spoke, looking at the mage, watching the mixed look of confusion and anger wash over.
" Just how am I the Herald of Andraste?" She wanted nothing to do with the Chantry, the Templar's, nothing. But it looked like the more she tried to push it away the more it was being forced back upon her.
"They have also heard about the woman in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste. " Cassandra's tone was trying to reassure her of the title. Trying not to anger the woman next to her.
" It's quite the Title isn't it, how do you feel about that?" Anara had resided to her piercing stare as she looked through Cullen. Knowing well the things that he's witnessed, she cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to find her most seductive voice.
" I Like it." Her hands braced the table as she leaned forward, giving Cullen a view to admire. Her lips turning into a smirk at the Templar.
She looked over the women in the room, all of them deciding on their next move. Leliana made it known of their position outside the Chantry, she dropped the name of Mother Giselle, a Chantry cleric. Anara breathed deep, knowing that there was no way to avoid confrontation with the Chantry, regardless of her stance. She stood there, agreeing minimally to the terms that Leliana created, she would talk to her. But she would not like it, even though her assistance will be invaluable.
She had looked at the war table, the map spread across it staring at the Hinterlands. Knowing that she was the travel there with her, friends? Comrades? She didn't know what to call them just yet. But she had to make due with what she had.
Cassandra was strong, but stubborn and hard headed. She believed in what she felt was right after so many years following others ideas of right and wrong. She had become the woman that she is now. Creating the inquisition and being in the forefront of leading it.
Varric seemed to live his life by his own rules. Doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, without the fear of a church or family coming down on him. Or at least that's what she thinks she knows about him. He's witty, and prone to banter, but he's nostalgic beyond belief. Different from the hard hitting Cassandra.
And Solas, Solas…
He had reached out to her in her darkest time and pulled her to the light. He had wanted her in every way he could imagine. He had known the world both inside and out. He was cool headed and logical, not letting his emotions take control like she let herself. He was passionate, and aggressive, but also calm and collected. In the presence of those around him, he was one thing, but in her presence and hers alone, he was another.
The duality that they both seemed to share in each others presence. How their demeanor changed when in private. How she had loved that passion and all that aggression. How he called her Vhenan, how she felt that she had loved that man.
Her eyes stared at the map empty minded, they're decisions and conversation had ended, but she stood there, still off in the distance.
"Anara?" She looked up at the Commander, no one else left in the room, "I wish to apologize..I.."
She bent back over, her tunic opening up as she looked Cullen in the eyes, "Why Commander Cullen, why on earth should you apologize?"
She cocked an eyebrow at him, biting her bottom lip as she quickly turned from the table. Leaving Cullen to stew within his own problems.
She had left the Chantry, letting the Commander think upon his actions and words. She had walked back towards Adan's determined to find Solas. She came across the elf standing there, staring up at the Breach, his mind somewhere else than here. "Solas?" She looked at him, his attention was upon the mark in the sky and it's power. But everything else about him wasn't there, like he was lost or distant.
He shook his head, his movements were trying to collect themselves as he turned looking at Anara, "Yes Vhenan?"
She turned to him, a sly smile moving across her lips, " I think there is something that you and I should talk about.."
Solas nodded, motioning his head towards the hut, her back pressed against the door as it opened, Solas slowly leaning in as it closed behind them.
Their words were their own, talks of the Hinterlands and Solas's experience there. There wasn't much to say about Ferelden, Anara had very little experience here. What she had known was what she learned from across the water in Ostwick.
The 5th blight started in the Kocari Wilds, and King Cailin died during Ostagar. She had passed her Harrowing by several months when news of the blight had reached them. Lothering was lost, Ostagar was lost, and Loghain was a traitor to his king and country.
She had heard the howls of Mabari, and felt the cold on her cheeks. Ferelden was cold, harsh, and unforgiving. But it's people were warm, and pleasant, despite all their loss. This she had learned personally.
She had learned of the Hero of Ferelden and King Alistair.
Ellandra Cousland, betrayed by the Howes and conscripted into becoming a Grey Warden. She had heard many tales of the woman from Highever. How she slayed the Archdemon, how she had won the heart of the King, and became the Queen of Ferelden.
She had heard the stories of talking dark spawn, of the two factions that fought for dominance. She had heard of the Queen taking up the banners against the evil that fought. And how they were subsequently defeated.
She was called The Hero of Ferelden, The Queen of Ferelden, Arlessa of Denerim and Commander of the Grey. She was fierce, strong and humble, she was noble. The one thing that Anara felt no longer ran in her blood.
Trevelyan of not, she held the name. But it seemed to be more of a mark of shame than anything else.
Abandoned from her family to the circle, she had cursed her name many times. How the Templars would mock it in Ostwick. Trevelyan, the horse that had stood so proud was beaten and broken after so many years. She had silenced her voice to those around her, becoming the thing that she hated so many years ago. Weak, compliant, submissive. She had remembered the spark of life that flowed through her, and the defiance that ran with it.
Solas grabbed her hands, pulling her away from her thoughts, bringing her back. His fingers brushed under her chin, pulling her lips close. " You let your mind wander to dark times Vhenan." His lips pressed against hers, sweetly kissing her, reminding her that she wasn't alone. "Don't let your mind wander like that, instead let us think of other things, other plans." A smirk spread across his lips as he looked her in the eyes. Pulling her in for another kiss, giving her untold promises with each passing moment.
She had smiled, fully and happily with the elf, they both continued to talk, to plot, to plan their next move together.
Cullen had to himself some serious thought, what WAS he apologizing for? Curiosity wasn't the worst thing he could imagine, stumbling across them wasn't any wrong doing. Even though he knew the first time was an accident, the second he was searching for it. Why not? Anara was an attractive woman.
He tried to reason out why he felt what he felt, why he seemed so infatuated with her. He had become lost in his mind thinking about the mage that he hardly knew. Knowing only so little about her, it seemed to drive him mad. Solas had known so much about her it felt, but Cullen could barely scrape the surface.
"Commander, a moment of your time please." Cullen looked up from the fire burning out in the training yard. His eyes looked over the sweeping figure of Anara, standing there arms crossed as she looked at him, impatience in her eyes.
He had stood up, expecting a tirade from the mage. But was instead met with hospitality. "Yes Lady Anara?" Cullen tried to pull his nicest self from his thoughts, wishing not to further sully his relationship with the mage.
" I had some questions regarding Ferelden, I have heard from around that you're from these parts." She had began to walk, Cullen following without hesitation.
"Yes, but so is everyone who lives in Haven. We are in Ferelden my lady." Cullen wandered next to her, trying to gauge her mood.
" I know that, but you already know I'm from the Free Marches. All I know about Ferelden is general history of Thedas. 5th blight, hero of Ferelden, King Alistair and such as that. But I need a perspective of someone from here. I have heard you were stationed near Redcliffe and the Hinterlands. I need that perspective Commander."
She had walked into the Chantry, her feet making it's way towards the war room, "I know nothing of the land, besides that there is a lake and a castle. I figured since you've been there you would know more." She turned, her hand on the door, "Or do I need to find another person?"
Cullen felt himself shift, not expecting her choice of words. He brought himself together, his heels almost clicking as he stood up straight, "Of course not my lady."
" Good." She said, her tone serious as she opened the door, the light not bright enough for the room. "So then Commander, down to the brass tax." She had shrugged off the heavy coat, throwing it on Orlais.
Cullen stopped in his tracks, feeling as if he had stepped into a trap. He had paused, his eyes wandering as she had taken off her coat.
"Commander?" She had spoken up. looking at Cullen, "Is there a problem?" Her head cocked to one side as she raised an eyebrow. Cullen didn't know what to say, problem? Maker no! There's no problem at all…
She had worn the same grey tunic she had earlier, but this time paired with a worn out skirt, more frayed than anything. He could feel himself trying to find the door, knowing that this wasn't a good thing in front of him.
"Commander Cullen." Her voice stopped trying to sound official, now that they were out of the eyes and ears of those around them. Her hands braced the table behind her as she leaned back against the heavy wood.
" It seems Commander that you have a little bit of a secret. Don't you think Solas?" A smirk came across her lips as she looked at Cullen, a look of panic coming to his face.
" Yes Vhenan, a secret indeed."