At the Crown and Lion
Elly was so terribly bored. It'd been a long and restless night, and now she was faced with a long and restless day. Breakfast was a single bright point. It was just as good as dinner the night before, and about ten times better than what they served at the keep.
"I'm surprised to find you eating down here. At the keep you're always hiding in your office."
Elly glanced up at Cullen as he took a seat across from her. She took in their surroundings with a shrug. "Not exactly crowded in here yet. Besides, only the innkeeper knows who I am. There's a chance the rest might mistake me for a good mage. If they even know such a thing exists."
Cullen looked dubious about such a thing existing as well. "A good mage?"
"You know. The ones that mostly get to stay in the tower and study things. Heal people. Not harm them."
"And that makes you…?"
A bad one, obviously. But Elly didn't bother saying it. "I kill people. Sure, I've killed lots of darkspawn. But also people."
Uneasy with the topic of conversation, Cullen shifted in his chair. "I'd… prefer to stick to the darkspawn. Last night, that was disturbing."
Elly got the impression he wasn't speaking about her charging off like an idiot, or even the aftermath. "You reminded me of Oghren, the way you fought."
"I was out of control." He was too disquieted to hide his worry the way he normally would. "It shouldn't feel that good to fight. Not when it's people. Darkspawn are one thing, but…" He shuddered.
Elly cautiously reached across the table, giving him plenty of time to move his hand if he didn't want to be touched. Her fingers lightly came to rest across his. "I remember Zev speaking about this. It…" Elly hadn't really understood it then, either. "I think it's possible to enjoy an action, without enjoying the result."
Cullen stiffened at the mention of the assassin. "To enjoy killing is wrong." Elly didn't disagree, but she didn't know what to say to him. "I've been trained to kill abominations and maleficarum. And now darkspawn." Cullen shook his head. "But regular people… Even criminals should be turned over to the law, not slaughtered like animals."
"But it doesn't always work out that way." Elly sighed. "I'm sorry I put you in the situation at all."
"It wasn't your fault." Cullen paused. "Well, it was. But we came out here to find and deal with the conspirators. I should've realized…" He looked lost, and for a moment she was reminded of the boy-that-was, before Duncan had come to the Tower. "I don't know what I'll do."
Elly squeezed his hand and released it. "I'd be more concerned if it didn't bother you at all. I think the fact that it does, means you can work this out." She seemed to recall having a similar conversation with Leliana, and that had worked out all right. Though she had to admit that visions from the Maker seemed a more benign kind of crazy. She thought it might be time for an encouraging smile, so she tried to summon one up.
Cullen chewed over her words. His brows narrowed. "Er, is there something wrong with your mouth?"
Elly's lips twitched as she tried to hold them in the correct formation. "Oh, forget it," she mumbled. "What are we going to do for another day and a half? Does any of your gear need replacing? I'll have to ask if they have fresh herbs around here…"
"Please don't start with the herbs again," Cullen grumbled, but seemed relieved at the change of subject. His eyes dropped to the remains of her breakfast. "Maybe you could convince the cook here to come to the keep."
"Maybe if our cooks knew more about herbs the food wouldn't be so bad," Elly protested. But she heeded his warning look. "Alright, I'm not usually very convincing. But for the sake of all our stomachs, I'll try." Absently, she fumbled in her belt pouch for a small vial. With an efficiency born of much practice, she popped the top off, took a small sip, replaced the lid and slid it back into her pouch. Then she got to her feet.
Cullen was frowning at her, and he hadn't gotten up. "What was that?"
"Hmm?" she said distractedly. "Aren't we going to speak to the cook now?"
"What did you just drink?" He pinned her with his eyes.
"Oh," Elly said. Oh, that. "Lyrium."
"Why would you be taking lyrium? You can't still be drained from yesterday, and I hope you don't mean to use magic to convince the cook…"
Elly sighed and sank back into her chair. "No, of course not." She knew she should've taken it in her room, but she liked to imagine taking it with food helped dilute it. "Look, during the Blight, we never got a break. Sometimes we had to walk through the night, trying to get across Fereldan with darkspawn seemingly around every corner. Only to find our potential allies had problems of their own that we had to solve before they would help us. We only slept when we collapsed." The mage shrugged helplessly. "So I used lyrium potions to restore my mana."
Cullen was silent, still watching her.
"A lot of potions. More than was safe, but we had no choice. We had no time. Even then we were too late. For Lothering, West Hills, so much of Denerim…"
"So what you're saying," Cullen said slowly, drawing her back on topic, "is you're addicted."
"A little, yes. Lyrium…" She looked up at him. "Well, you understand."
Cullen let a breath out harshly. "Oh, I understand about lyrium alright. What I don't understand is how you - knowing what would happen - could be so irresponsible."
Elly straightened in surprise. "Irresponsible? I was responsible for too much. Cullen, I told you, we had no choice."
"No choice?" the former templar asked bitterly. "Like the Chantry gave you lyrium without warning you that it's addictive, when you were too young to question it?"
Elly winced. "Fine, you're right. We had a choice, but not a choice I could've made." Her voice dropped to the barely audible. "Besides, I didn't think there would be an afterwards to face. Who would've thought we'd actually survive?"
Cullen sighed, his attention pulled away from the past and back to the present. "And does the Chantry know what you're using the lyrium for? I can't believe they're willing to give it to the Grey Wardens no questions asked."
"Uh, actually, we don't get our lyrium from the Chantry…" Elly looked at the ground beside her chair.
"Elly…" Cullen prompted.
"Well I sort of… met someone in Orzammar who's willing to…" Elly tried to think of a nicer word than 'smuggle'. "Supply us, perhaps not through official channels." She waited for the explosion.
Cullen obliged. "Are you out of your mind? If the Chantry finds out, they'll be forced to take action! Not just against you, but the dwarves as well. This could be a disaster. And also, the Grey Wardens encourage smuggling?"
"The Chantry needn't find out, though they will if you insist on yelling about it," Elly pointed out reasonably. "I don't know why you still expect the Wardens to be honorable. We'll do whatever we have to." It'd been drilled into her over and over again, and now it was her turn to pass on the lesson.
Cullen wrestled with his anger for a moment. When he finally spoke it was in a calmer voice, and the matter was pushed aside, at least for the moment. "I guess when the order was absent so long they became something of a legend. Reality doesn't measure up."
"It sure doesn't." Glad to be past the subject of lyrium, Elly relaxed a little. "I wanted a griffon!"
Cullen shook his head at her. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she thought he looked a tiny bit amused.
