Wintersend 11

A little sad Josephine stared at the empty spot on her desk where the vase with the lovely spring flowers had stood. The army had marched off, safe for the soldiers that had stayed behind to defend Skyhold if need be, and Blackwall had gone with them. And so the daily delivery of fresh flowers had come to a halt. She had dried the last little bouquet of crocuses and given it a place in a crystal glass sitting on her nightstand but it was hardly the same. And to make it worse she slowly but sure got aware she not only missed the flowers but, more critical, missed the one who had gone through the effort to pick them. Pick them for her. She recognized he had made her feel she was special, that she meant something important to him. Meant enough to go through the daily struggle to brave the cold mornings and steep slopes to, in his silent way, tell her that much. She snorted derisively. Undoubtedly Leliana would state she was growing soft. How had she put it again..? Ah yes. "Romance is best enjoyed from afar." Of course those weren't the Spymaster's own words, it was a lesson they had all been taught and not without reason. Being a bard you had to stay vigilant and giving in to certain feelings would make a person vulnerable. Josephine made a face. Wasn't it Leliana herself who had tossed that specific lesson aside and learned the hard way? Resolutely she straightened her shoulders. It wasn't her fault Leliana had fallen in love with the wrong person, that back then her young age had made her gullible and a plaything in the hands of her tutor who without a second thought had betrayed her. It wasn't her fault it had left Leliana bitter and with distrust for love. Besides that, she wasn't a bard any longer. She firmly resolved to tell Leliana, when she returned from Adamant Fortress, she could romance anyone she liked and if she'd desire to answer Blackwall's shy wooing it was her decision to make. She didn't need a chaperone.

With that resolution made, she turned to the task at hand with a deep contented sigh. Not minutes after she also discarded that task because of lack of concentration and pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the pile sitting on a corner of her desk. She pensively chewed on her pencil. 'Let's see. How many gallons of cider do we need? Hmm, should it be cider? Yes, definitely the right drink for a Wintersend celebration. Light and sparkling like spring herself. Are there growing pussy-willows in the vicinity of Skyhold?' She wrinkled her brow. 'Can't say I remember seeing those. Hazels perchance?' She tapped the desktop with the pencil. 'I can order them from Val Royeaux,' she mused, 'but it would be so much easier and cheaper if we can find them here.' Another reason to regret the absence of Blackwall; he would have known. Best ask one of the kitchen staff, they ventured into the mountains often enough, if only to find some herbs the chef required. Right. Next topic. Canapés.

She spent the next hour with flushed cheeks scribbling down everything needed for a proper Wintersend. Now even more than ever she was set on the feast. The silence in the castle was eerie now almost every soldier had gone to take part in the attack on Adamant Fortress. Not that there wasn't enough bustling left but the atmosphere had changed from boiling over with activities to tense waiting for the outcome. She didn't doubt that even with a victory there would be mourning. She was certain their troops would win the battle, without any hesitation she relied on the Inquisitor and Cullen, but even so people would be lost. So afterwards they would need a celebration if only to drown the inevitable grief. Or at least lessen it or let forget about the pain for a while. And of course to celebrate the glorious triumph.

She looked up at the piece of blue sky she could see through the high set window and again let her thoughts float away with a faint smile. Awkwardly and somewhat tentative she tried out on another sheet a few lines of poetry. She had never exalted in poetry and after three or four attempts she crumbled the piece of paper. She grunted frustrated. Picking flowers was ever so more romantic. Say it with flowers when you can't find the words. Her face lighted up. Of course.

Not half an hour later the guards at the gate frowned astonished when the Ambassador passed them in a great hurry and with a large beam on her face.

She might be lousy at poetry but she could at least return the favour. She was certain it was a sign he would not only understand but even more would relish. When Blackwall would return he would find a dried bouquet of lovely flowers lying on his austere bed above the stables. And she didn't doubt for a second he'd know where they came from.

Hawke found herself as a rolled up ball of pure misery between the ugly rough hewn pillars in the even uglier and suffocating environment she had woken up in. The vile voice still echoed in her head. The horrible pictures still wouldn't go away. She had started strong enough, standing tall and challenging the voice to do his worst.

And it had.

She thought she had known all of it but as it turned out memories were entirely different from living the moments once again. Remembering how her sister died under the hands of that ungodly beast was not the same as hearing her screams in real and seeing her being squashed to pulp as if she was present again. Feeling the pain of being forced to leave her brother into the care of the Grey Wardens was not the same as experiencing it all over. Seeing her mother staggering as some kind of ragdoll stitched together from other parts of murdered women hit her like she was living the ghastly scene once more.

Anders committing his utter deed of betrayal, Orsino turning into a gruesome abomination, Meredith becoming some kind of raving monster – the screams, the blood, the despair … To be forced to experience those dreadful moments had been hard enough, to live with the memories had been almost impossible; to go through them once more proved to be too much.

And then it had become harsher.

Fenris falling in the battle she had tried to evade or least had tried to keep him from fighting. The child she had whished for dying in her womb. Or perhaps even worse, her womb shrivelling and not being able to carry life at all. The decay, the rot. The smell entered her nostrils and made her gag. At the same moment some still sound small spot somewhere at the back of her brain told her he, whoever "he" might be, was overdoing it. That he was trying very hard to push her over the threshold of sanity. But she didn't care anymore. She couldn't cope. She couldn't fight off those horrible images. She turned into that pitiable ball of desolation and wished for death. She couldn't even scream out her anguish but just let out a feeble sob. She would never be able to find a way out off this nightmare and she didn't care. She would perish in this hellish environment and the moment couldn't come soon enough. She was ready to give up, ready to surrender.

And then someone – or something touched her head. Touched it with compassioned fingers that seemed to radiate comfort. She should have flown up, she should have reacted with vicious force and swat the intruder aside. Instead she couldn't move but, to her own astonishment, not because of dread. She felt her head fill with peace. The horrible too real and warped memories slowly evaporated to be replaced with – simple calm. Her racing heart slowed down, her ragged breath evened out, the turbulent current of her thoughts became a quiet river. She let out a small shivering sigh. It felt wonderful.

'That's better,' a new voice said. Hawke frowned. She knew that voice, she had heard it before but couldn't place it. 'I cannot make you forget, not anymore, but I can lessen your pain. He is trying to hurt you. I can make that pain go away. Please don't move.' A light touch of soft fingers brushed her temple. It gently swept her sorrows back into the corner where they belonged. 'I can make it better.'

'Cole,' she murmured. She felt strangely relieved.

The Inquisition Army had pitched camp close to Adamant Fortress in a low dell surrounded by a natural wall of rock and stout boulders. They had made good progress and met Lady Seryl's sappers and their siege equipment a day sooner than calculated up forehand. The place was strategically well chosen; there was little chance they would be spotted from the Warden stronghold and were sufficiently protected against the wild animals that roamed the area. The soldiers had erected tents in neat lines for the troops and the officers, had dug out latrines and built a corral for the horses. Everywhere fires were burning and meals were prepared. 'An army may fight on morale, but it marches on food,' Cullen had declared.

'And where did you obtain that wisdom?' Evelyn had laughed teasingly, 'I never knew you once were a general commanding an army! Or a quartermaster!'

'It's common knowledge,' Cullen had answered a little sullenly, 'ask Blackwall. He has been a captain in the military, perhaps you'll believe him when he says it.'

At this moment Evelyn was ambling through the encampment towards the staff-tent. Evening was falling and it was getting dark very fast. At the same time the screeching chorus of the nocturnal insects Varric was so fond of started its night concert. At the entrance of the camp, which was little more than a space between two rocky outcrops, she noticed Fenris standing motionless and attentive as a sentinel, staring at the loom of the Grey Warden Fortress in the distance, just visible against the dark blue sky. She knew she walked silently, nevertheless he turned his head as she passed. They shared a quick glance. Fenris gave her a hardly discernibly nod and Evelyn hurried forwards. She still felt uncomfortable around the elf and it had nothing to do with those unfathomable green eyes that seemed to see right through you. At least that look didn't affect her as it apparently did Dorian who ever so often let out a little sigh when he thought no one was aware. But she was still angry about the elf's outburst in the War Room, directed at Cullen. The love of her life didn't deserve such treatment. She imagined she had caught him several times along the march looking at the elf in a sad way, or perhaps "guilty" was a better expression. And that last look had been one too many; she wouldn't have it. He had stopped her from reacting then and there and they hadn't talked about it afterwards but now she had enough of it. Directly after dinner he had gone to the staff-tent and she knew it would be a little while before the others would gather there also. She had time to utter her itching irritation that by now was bubbling over and she would rise to the challenge. Damn if she didn't. So determinedly she pushed open the entrance and decided to come straight to the point.

'I have the impression the elf is working on your nerves,' she said without even as much as a "hello".

Confused Cullen looked up from the map he was studying in the light of the many burning candles. 'What? Which elf?'

Evelyn rolled her eyes. 'The Tevinter one. Fenris.'

With a little sigh the Commander stood straight, ignoring some nasty pops in his spine when he did so. 'Ah. Fenris.' He might not understand much about women but it was quite obvious Evelyn had been bothered by that incident at Skyhold. And it was clear her anxiety hadn't lessened. If nothing else it had evidently only grown worse. 'He just reminds me of one of my not too finest hours,' he tried to explain, 'or better a whole range of actions or better even omissions on my account.'

Firmly Evelyn planted her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin. 'You don't have to keep on atoning,' she said indignantly, 'you have suffered enough and you don't need someone to remind you of the mistakes you think you made in the past. You have tried so hard to put things right! It simply isn't fair to be dealt with a whack around your ears after all these years.'

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with the right words. 'It's not about atoning, not exactly anyhow and Fenris is not working on my nerves as such. I just think it's useful to have someone around to keep me on my toes.' The little amused smile that accompanied his words escaped Evelyn entirely. If there was anyone who kept him on his toes right now it was her but it seemed she didn't get the hint. It charmed and puzzled him at the same time. Usually she got anything.

'And I think that's rubbish,' she persisted stubbornly, 'his rant in the War Room was completely uncalled for! And I've seen the way you look at him,' she added angrily, 'he makes you feel bad about yourself. Has he any idea what you went through?!'

The Commander walked around the table and took her hands in his. 'Listen, my love, if there's anyone who's gone through a lot of misery and pain, it is Fenris. I don't know him very well but I do know that particular fact, if only because Varric told about it.'

'If he understands so well then he could at least show some consideration,' she persevered with a scowl.

Cullen shook his head and gave her a warm smile. 'He was defending his woman, I thought you would appreciate that. And besides that, he apologised for his harsh words.' The warm smile broadened. 'I get the feeling Fenris is far more working on your nerves than on mine,' he grinned. Before she could protest he pulled her closer and rested his forehead against hers, 'in fact right now you do the same he has done.' He put a finger upon her lips because he could feel the raising of her brow and the protest that was taking form under the frown. 'You are defending me because you think I've been wronged, but, however much I value that, it really isn't necessary. I haven't been wronged. Not by Fenris anyhow.'

'But the things he said were hurting,' she started doggedly, not willing to leave her annoyance so easily. The words sounded rather muffled to begin with because Cullen still had his finger on her lips and it didn't matter anyway because suddenly she got struck with the image of the elf, standing at the entrance of the encampment, staring tensely at Adamant Fortress. He had looked desolated. She had dismissed the short flickering feeling of compassion because she had still been angry with him, but now it hit her. He was defending his woman. Of course he felt worried, worried about the state of mind Marian Hawke would be in and in what kind of trouble it had got her. She sagged. If it had been about Cullen she would have stormed the stronghold on her own, no matter the consequences. If it had been about Cullen she would not have only scolded and above that screamed at everyone in Skyhold but flown at them as well. And damn those fucking consequences. She heaved her head.

'Ah, good,' Cullen smiled, 'I see you finally understand.'

Before she could say anything they got interrupted by a sonorous baritone.

'I hoped to find you here. Look who I brought!'

They both turned to see Varric who dragged the Grey Warden called Stroud along. Fenris followed in their trail. Cullen let go of Evelyn who on her turn tried to become the Inquisitor once again within a heartbeat. It helped she was of noble upbringing. 'Warden Stroud,' she greeted the man, 'it's good to see you in one piece. I presume you come with valuable information..?' The question lingered in the air for a moment. 'Perhaps we should send for our Spymaster,' she concluded. And then she caught Fenris's expression. Had he looked desolated before, now he radiated pure desperation. Her throat clenched and for a moment she didn't know what to say.

Varric coughed politely. 'Yes. Yes, you should get Leliana over here. Stroud has indeed valuable information, undoubtedly better information than her scouts can come up with.'

She interrupted him. 'Where is Marian Hawke?' Another question that kept hovering for some long moments. Evelyn looked in anticipation at Stroud as if she expected him to conjure up the woman right away.

The Warden let his eyes wander from her to Cullen and back and looked uncomfortable as if he had been asked that particular question before and hadn't been met with great enthusiasm about the answer. 'I haven't seen her.'

'What do you mean you haven't seen her?' Cullen sounded not pleased.

Stroud straightened his shoulders. 'The last I've seen of her is when she went with you, Inquisitor, to Skyhold.'

Evelyn felt grateful he didn't address her by the stupid holy titles the Andrasteans had come up with, the ones she got the feeling from she was worshipped as some kind of saint which gave her the creeps. At least he kept down to earth. She rubbed her brow. 'I know it's a silly thing to ask but for my own sake, are you really certain?'

'I am,' he simply stated.

'That you haven't seen her doesn't mean she isn't there.' For the first time Fenris raised his voice. 'She can have slipped in undetected.'

'Yes elf.' Varric sounded as if he was telling the same lines for the umpteenth time. 'That is a possibility. The moon can bounce on Thedas and back into the sky without doing any damage, the Maker can return and declare the Tevinters were right all along, the elves can start ruling Orlais with the blessing of the Empress herself and Hawke can have entered Adamant without anyone noticing. Bloody hell, Fenris, she's not a rogue and even if she were she couldn't have accomplished that bloody feat. No one could.'

Fenris's face became a stony mask. 'Then I presume you don't know her as well as you thought you did.'

Exasperated Varric threw his hands in the air. 'Believe what you want and have it your way.' With a grim expression he turned to Evelyn. 'Please send for our dear Spymaster. We have a plan to concoct. You have some decent ale around? I could use one. In fact I'm dying for one.'

Over the dwarf's head Evelyn caught the look of the elf. She gave him a brittle smile. 'I believe you,' she said softly, 'she is a remarkable woman.'

He gave her a thankful half-smile in return.

While Cullen returned to his precious maps, after calling an orderly to fetch Leliana, and Evelyn started fervently looking for some ale, giving up on the task and calling another orderly to get a pitcher, make that a barrel, Fenris sat down on a low stool in a corner of the tent. He rested his face in his hands and tried to calm down. His heart was still racing. He had been so certain Marian would be with Stroud at Adamant. That the fortress had been her goal. He wrecked his mind. Had he done something stupid? Said the wrong thing? He had assured her he would stay with her and they would fight the beast together. That had about been his words. Of course he hadn't known back then she wished for a child. If so ... if so what. That wouldn't have changed a thing; he had to admit it even would have strengthened his determination to stand with her. She wasn't pregnant yet, was she? No, he was certain she would have told him. So why had she disappeared? He couldn't shake off the feeling something was very wrong, that something had befallen her she hadn't foreseen. He had to find her but he didn't know where to look. And still he was convinced somewhere in Adamant lay the answer. He started when a hand touched his shoulder and he looked up in the considerate face of the Inquisitor.

'I'm sorry I judged you wrong,' she said while she offered him a glass of wine, 'you simply love her and defend her. I know now. And I believe you when you say she can accomplish the improbable and most likely the impossible too. I travelled with her, I should know. I pledge to you we will find her. If need be just the two of us.'

He smiled at her and accepted the proffered glass. 'Thank you,' he said, 'it's encouraging to hear someone besides me believes in her as strongly as I do.'

Little could he know about the ordeals his lover was going through at that same time and even less about the shock that was about to hit her with the strength of a battering ram. Ending up in the Fade would at that moment be the least of her distresses. Even with Cole close at hand to decrease and absorb the worst of the impact of the blow, that blow struck hard. She thought she had undergone the worst but, as always, the worst turned out to be even worse.

Thank you Inugyrl for the nudge I needed to turn back to this story and complete this chapter that was too long neglected, half forgotten lingering somewhere on my computer. (Although it was never far from my thoughts.) I hope you like the outcome.

And as always to all you people who took the effort to read this, well, thank you so much for reading! After all I do it all for you.