Author's note:

I'm pretty beat, so I'll make this quick. You guys are awesome. Thanks for all the reviews and follows.

Toodles.


Petrichor

Cullen lay on the floor to the right of the bed and chased sleep fruitlessly. Try as he might, he couldn't get the image of Evangeline out of his mind. He attempted to recite Chantry scripture in his head, but by the time the second verse rolled around, there she was again. He huffed in irritation. He then summoned the image of a chess board and began to envision playing against his sister on their terrace back in Honnleath. As Mia began flanking his queen, he realized that the distraction was working. At long last, his weary consciousness drifted into the realm of dreams.

Mia looked exactly as he'd remembered her the day she left. Her short brown hair was cropped tight about her head and lay just beneath her ears. She'd defeated him again. Her face remained deadpan throughout the entirety of the game but as soon as her rook felled his king, the corner of her mouth turned upwards into a self-satisfied smile.

"You're absolute rubbish at this, you know?" she said.

"One day. You mark my words," warned Cullen.

"You said that the last...oh, say, twenty times and I still keep winning." Mia grinned some more, rose from her chair and rubbed his shoulder fondly. "Are you staying for supper?"

"Of course. What's – "

In the blink of an eye, her face had transformed grotesquely. She grew in height, as if stretched like a strip of rubber. Her mouth widened to unnatural proportions. Her skin darkened to a slick black and she wailed upwards at the sky.

He stumbled backwards. No. Not you. Not my Mia. She came for him swiftly on all four of her monstrous limbs. Her mouth moved and some garbled nonsense spat out. Wait. It wasn't all gibberish. She was trying to tell him something.

" – wake up!"

His eyes shot open and he sat upright. He found himself clutching someone's arm. It was Evangeline's. Cullen promptly loosened his grip. In the weak moonlight, she'd knelt by his side and looked at him, bleary-eyed and disturbed.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he mumbled.

"Well then, perhaps you should break out into song in the middle of your nightmares. You know, have a musical interlude of some sort. That'll calm me down."

He gave a dry chuckle as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Who was it this time? One of your friends?" she asked softly.

"No. Mia." He exhaled. "Do you ever wonder if...if dreams are some sort of premonition?"

"The nightmares aren't real, Cullen," said Evangeline firmly.

"Yes, but what if they're allegory? We've got a civil war competing with Darkspawn over who can best tear Ferelden apart. We're not exactly living in a golden age. It's quite bleak if you consider the bigger picture. What if Mia...what if they're not safe?"

She deliberated for a moment. "Dreams aren't purely whimsical musings," she said judiciously. "They're manifested fragments of your subconscious. In this instance, I think you're justifiably concerned for them."

"But I'm...here. A Templar. I have duties that I'm sworn to. How can I possibly protect them from here?"

"You can't." she said, very matter-of-fact. "But surely you could send word to them if you're this worried. Perhaps have them move somewhere safer. Temporarily."

"Is that good enough?"

"Your other alternative is to give up the Order, pack up and go home."

He looked away in sad realization. "I can't do that."

Evangeline squeezed his shoulder gently. Cullen immediately placed his hand over hers and was thankful that she didn't break away. "Do you worry for your family?"

"What do you think?" she said as she looked at him knowingly. "Ostwick is safe for the time being, but Kirkwall's a brewing shit storm."

"How do you mean?"

"There's a Qunari Arishok who's settled there. A lot of Elven slaves have converted to the Qun and the Chantry's not exactly tickled pink."

"Asogen's with them, isn't he?"

Evangeline sighed. "Yes. He wants to leave but it's not up to him. Once Elena gets married, she's going to be moving there. Right smack dab in the middle of it all."

Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and caressed her cheek. Evangeline closed her eyes at his touch. Sweet Andraste, he realized, she does feel something. He brushed her skin lightly with his thumb.

"Evie, I..."

She opened her eyes. The way she gazed at him; no one had scrutinized him that deeply. He'd never felt more vulnerable in his life. His mind being invaded at the Circle Tower had exposed a great many things, true, but such vulnerabilities were relinquished through force. He finally understood that she was able to peruse his thoughts more thoroughly because he had allowed, no – wanted, her to.

"Don't start something you're not prepared to see through," she said finally as she pulled away and went back to sleep.


After a filling breakfast of toast, sausages and fried tomatoes, the pair left The Speckled Hen and stepped out into a freshly washed morning. Lingering droplets of rain fell to the ground from overhanging branches and the scent of petrichor wafted up from the moistened soil.

Evangeline was somewhat quiet throughout breakfast. He was certain it was because of the events of the night before, but precisely which one, he couldn't be sure. If she was upset, she hadn't let on. She had smiled as they made polite conversation and had even chuckled at some of his poor jokes about the barman.

Should he have kissed her, wondered Cullen? But she didn't seem to want it. At least not at that point in time. What did she want, then? With what knowledge of romantic pursuits he could gather from fellow Templars and tomes, people always seemed to paint most women as damsels in need of rescuing. Granted, some of these were warriors of high caliber, but most tales invariably had the heroine mired in a precarious situation or scarred by a tragic past. Either way, a more masculine figure eventually stepped up to save said maiden or salvage her fractured soul.

Evangeline was clearly not in need of rescuing. If anyone needed to be thrown a lifeline, realized Cullen, it was him.

Her reaction to his hand on her cheek ostensibly signified that she cared for him. And such feelings seemed to exceed the borders of friendship. But then, why pull away?

"So do you really believe Tevinter arseholes wandered into the Golden City to usurp the Maker's throne?" Evangeline asked suddenly, breaking an hour-long silence.

As they walked alongside the stream, he slipped into the habit of reciting Andrastian dogma. "The Canticle of Threnodies confirms the tale. Their footsteps sullied the Golden Hall with sin."

"Well, that's the cheapest proof I've heard. It's no better than writing a piece of fiction and using its contents as irrefutable evidence of its truth. Lame."

Cullen gave her a sidelong glance. "How could you possibly serve the Templars and not subscribe to Andraste's beliefs?"

"Just because I don't believe now doesn't mean I won't believe later. I just need something tangible to convince me, that's all."

"But what motivates you to commit to the Order if not Andraste and the Maker themselves?"

"People. The Maker and Andraste? Ghostly legends that none of us will see in this lifetime. People hurting? Real. Solid." she replied, pragmatically.

Cullen stopped in his tracks briefly before proceeding. That was...sound logic. He wasn't quite able to counter it, and the fact irritated him.

The stream widened into a shimmering lake. A rudimentary dock stuck out from its banks. The sun was out in all its glory and a soft breeze sifted through their hair. Cullen went to the foot of the dock and gazed at its placid waters which reflected various shades of green from surrounding birches and conifers.

"Come on, Evie, how can you possibly take all of this in and not believe in a Creator?"

"If he steps forward and claims ownership of it all, I'll do more than just believe. I'll submit to a public flogging."

He gave her a dry look. "Alright, so what's your explanation? What have you got that's better than Andraste and her Maker?"

"Absolutely nothing," she said as she grinned. "Which is a sight better in terms of what the Chantry could come up with. In terms of honesty, at any rate."

Cullen scowled back at her. "I fail to see the humour in that."

Her smile vanished. "You fail to see the humour in a great many things."

He didn't like where this was going, but she had gotten under his skin and it was too late to stop now. "Are you calling me dull?"

"You said it. Not me."

Dear Maker. "Well, forgive me if I'm one of the few Templars who survived being mentally tormented by demons for two whole days. I'm sorry if those nightmares have sobered me. I'll try to not let it get in the way of a good laugh."

Evangeline rolled her eyes heavenwards. "That'll be the day."

Temper rising, he emphatically gesticulated at himself with his index finger. "Two entire days! For two entire days I watched as my friends were slowly murdered before my very eyes! And those bloody spirits kept me alive. Can your mind even comprehend just how much of a burden it is to be the last man standing? Can you not understand my guilt? I'm alive and they're not! And I've borne it alone for the most part – because heaven forbid that I should plant my insignificant troubles on some poor soul's shoulders." He finally stopped, a little breathless.

Looking at her now, a half-smile had slid across her face. Why was she beaming like that? Gear cranked against gear and recognition began to dawn on him.

"Did you just...?" Oh sweet Andraste, she had been putting him on, pushing his buttons in order to elicit some kind of release from all those emotions. How was it possible that she could see all this pent-up anger and he couldn't?

She let out a soft laugh. "Penny's in the air..."

"Oh, Maker." He closed his eyes.

"Aaaand the penny drops."

Cullen's face lit up despite himself. "You little..."

"I'm here to help you, you daft twit. I'm not going to let the past claim you. Life's here for the living. Relax those shoulders and don't forget to breathe. Stop trying to plug that bloody dam and let loose once in a while. The existence of Andraste and the Maker is irrelevant. If they're real, swell. If they're not, then you wouldn't have wasted your life on past regrets. You're not just capable of flying, Cullen – you could soar. You just have to give yourself that chance. You can let people help but this – everything you want – it's all on you."

"Evie, I...thank you."

She held up a hand, interrupting him. "It's what I'm here for. But there is one thing I need to know."

"Name it."

"Can you swim?"

"Yes, but why...?"

Smiling mischievously, she placed her right hand on his chest. And then pushed him. Into the water.

She guffawed deeply as he fell in with a splash. He came up sputtering in shock. Evangeline doubled over in laughter; tears streaming down her face. She pumped her fist in the air. "That's for walking in on me while I was changing and," she gasped for air as she howled in delight, "...and for being a right grumpy bastard when you want to be." She baltered about in victory with her hands held high.

Cullen's eyes reflected hilarity and he tried to keep from laughing as he swum to the shore. "Evie girl, you are so dead. So very dead when I catch up with you."

He climbed out of the water as she struggled to run while chortling in glee. She had gotten a head start but Cullen was the faster runner and she had to stop frequently to catch her breath.

He had almost caught up with her and was reaching out for her arm when she came to a halting stop. He looked up to see someone holding a blade to her throat.


"Well, well. What have we here?" said the swordsman. "A beautiful maiden and a bedraggled peasant boy." A younger, quieter man stood by his side.

"You leave her be," warned Cullen as he felt about for his sword. He cursed in the realization that he'd left it on the dock.

"But you're the ones trespassing on our land."

"We didn't know it was your property," explained Evangeline. "We'll get off it right now. No fuss, no mess."

The swordsman shook his head. "There's only one way I'll let you go." He turned to Cullen. "I challenge you to a duel. Winner walks off without consequence."

"What? This is ridiculous." exclaimed Cullen.

"Quite possibly. But I'm the one holding a blade to your lover's neck."

"We don't even have anything worth stealing!"

"I'm not after coin. So stop chatting or I swear I'll hurt her."

"What happens if I lose?" asked Cullen in unhappy acquiescence.

"Best not to find out. Now. What you say you? Will you fight for your freedom and your love?"

Cullen glowered at the newcomer. "If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get. Just let me get my sword."

Evangeline watched the exchange transpire in bewilderment. "Excuse me!" she yelled. All three men turned their attention to her. "During this entire magnificent display of chest pounding, no one considered me the slightest bit capable of taking on this cretin? I mean, seriously, no one?"

It was their adversary's turn to look surprised. "I...what? You're the...er...captive."

"You know, that is extremely insulting." Evangeline pointed to her own visage. "Does this look like the face of a captive to you? Do you wander about town singling out people who do and don't look like captives? Are you some sort of renowned scholar in the field of captives?"

He stuttered. "Uh...? But who will we use as a hostage...?"

Evangeline gestured with both hands in Cullen's direction, as if the idea was innately obvious. Cullen sighed. Andraste's knickers, she was at it again. Cullen walked back in exasperation. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he grumbled. Evangeline nodded. He looked doubtful. "Because if you get yourself hurt, I'll kill you myself."

He watched as she walked away; his countenance a tad petulant and not in the least bit concerned for his own safety. In fact, he looked rather like an unhappy bulldog, Evangeline noted. She winked at him and he glowered back.

Evangeline unsheathed her sword. She sized the man up as they circled one another, muscles coiled and blades ready. The way he held his sword – the grip seemed too tight, too strained. This close to him, she could see the strained tendons and veins bulging out from his wrists. Asogen had always instructed her to grasp the hilt with a little slack. It allowed for a greater degree of maneuverability and there was less chance of pulling a hand muscle. And his feet were planted too close together – one well-placed hit and he would keel over. She began to wonder just how profound her opponent's swordsmanship truly was. He suddenly lunged straight forward. The action was more a result of frayed nerves rather than that of a surprise attack. As she stepped neatly to the side, she was convinced that the man was an amateur at best.

She gave an amused smile. "How about some banter? I could do with some good banter."

"What the hell are you on about?" he asked, as his gaze flicked to her briefly.

"It's when I come up with a few witty jabs and you parry it with an evil comeback. Or with maniacal laughter. Maniacal laughter is brilliant. Okay. I'll go first." Her expression was that of mock sobriety. "So is this how you two blackguards get your kicks, then? Wait for innocents to traipse onto your land and then rob them? Well, you've tangled with the wrong innocent, me hearty." She grinned as their swords clanked together and pulled apart. "See? Now you give it a go."

Sweat beaded on his brow. "We don't rob...just shut up and fight!"

Evangeline brought her own blade underneath his own and shoved it upwards. He staggered back, a trifle astonished. He thrust it at her again and she executed a deft riposte that drew blood from his shoulder.

"I didn't think it was possible, but your banter is worse that your fight. Are you even trying? Do be a good sport and take your swordplay up a notch."

The man's face darkened and he charged forward with a cry.

"If that's the way you want to play it..." she murmured as she eluded the gleaming metal point. Failing to make contact, the man stumbled forward. She landed a swift kick on his rear to send him sprawling face-first into the ground.

All efforts at holding the deadpan Cullen hostage vanished as the younger man rushed to the aid of his companion. "Wilhelm, are you alright?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. His ego – I'm not too sure about." remarked Evangeline as she sheathed her sword. "Serves you idiots right for taking on a couple of Templars."

As the man heaved Wilhelm to his feet, he regarded them with reverence. "You're Templars? The pair of you?"

"Only when we're not dealing with imbecilic bumpkins." said Cullen as he walked to Evangeline's side.

"I'm sorry. So very sorry," he apologized. He stuck his hand out. Cullen grudgingly shook it. "I'm Elgyn. Wilhelm's my brother. This was all his idea, but he meant well, so please don't blame him. And this isn't our land."

"Don't blame him for trying to kill innocent travelers?" asked Cullen in amazement. "Well that's got to be one of the sorriest excuses in history."

"No, no!" protested Elgyn. "He did it for me. My betrothed, Delphine, she disappeared about a month and a half ago. Not even the village guardsmen could spare a man to help look for her. So Wilhelm hired some folk who he thought were sellswords, but they were just thieves and cheated him of his money, see. And now we're left with precious little. He wanted to find some mercenaries who're up for a real fight. We have some coin left but we can't afford to waste it on people who can't handle themselves."

Wilhelm glared angrily at Evangeline as his younger brother continued. "But you're Templars! The Maker sent you to us, I'm sure of it. You could help me find my Delphine, can't you?"

Evangeline and Cullen exchanged glances.

"Yes. Okay. We'll help." said Cullen finally.


They marched on for three hours before the foliage began to thin out. They passed amber wheat fields and mills, barns and farmhouses. As they stepped past the threshold of the village gates, several passers-by glanced up to survey the newcomers.

"Something's bugging me," began Evangeline.

"What's that?" asked Elgyn.

She pointed at Wilhelm. "This one's for your brother actually." She turned her head towards him as they walked. "So you two were wandering the lands looking to hire some muscle, correct?"

"Yes." said Wilhelm, sourly.

"And the standard for assessing competency was...you? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's very brave and all that, but you're not exactly the best benchmark, are you?" Evangeline shook her head. "Damn. You must have been desperate."

Wilhelm coloured but said nothing.

Cullen rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper something in Evangeline's ear. "Do try not to antagonize them, Evie. We're here to help. A little less sass, okay?"

Oh, very well. "So where are we going?" she asked.

"Of the two girls who disappeared after my Delphine vanished, one of them escaped."

"How? And can she identify her abductor?" questioned Cullen.

Elgyn ran a hand through his mop of brown hair and sighed. "Yes. But it's best you ask her yourself."


He knocked on a door of a small home. An older man – his jowls stubbled with flecks of silver hair – answered the door and motioned them in.

The girl sat quietly at a table, nursing a cup of steaming hot tea. The scent of chamomile and mint hung throughout the modest interior. A cat lay curled on a rug across from the fireplace. From the light off a wall sconce, Evangeline speculated that she must only be a few years older than herself. Her pale, curly blonde hair rested atop her shoulders. She looked up at the newcomers with mild interest and rose to greet them.

The older man ambled beside her and placed a gentle hand on her back. He introduced himself as the local miller, Bernard Finn, and the girl was his only daughter, Nerys. Evangeline looked around for any sign of the girl's mother, but there was none.

Nerys shook Evangeline's hand and when she reached out to grasp Cullen's, her breath caught. Her hand went limp within his and a pink hue flushed across her cheeks.

Cullen, bless his heart, remained oblivious. The reaction did not escape Evangeline's notice, however, but she chose to shrug it off as they sat around the table.

"We're sorry to trouble you," began Elgyn as he patted Nerys' hand in sympathy, "but we found some Templars who've agreed to help us find Delphine and Ursula."

"You're Templars?" said Nerys as her blue eyes settled on Cullen.

"Yes." he replied.

"We would hate to make you relive what happened, but you need to tell them. Just once more." urged Elgyn.

Nerys' father placed a reassuring arm around his daughter and smiled in encouragement. "Go on, girl, I'm right here beside you."

"I...alright."

For the better part of an hour, Nerys described her ordeal. She, along with her friend Ursula, had ventured beyond the outskirts of their village as one of their cows had wandered off. Trying to locate the animal proved a fruitless endeavor and the sun had begun to sink before the pair decided to give up the search. On their return, they were ambushed by disfigured creatures who then proceeded to subdue and bind their hands. There weren't many of them – only about two or three, but they were strong and well-armed. Nerys was unable to discern anything coherent as the savages only conversed in guttural grunts and growls.

They forcibly marched the pair away farther from home and towards the hilltops. Ursula, rendered terrified by the ongoing nightmare, had begun to cry. Her sobs grew in crescendo until they became loud wails. One of the beasts had attempted to gag her, but she put up a good struggle, and he needed the help of the other two to pin her down.

Nerys immediately took advantage of the distraction and had fled down the hill. She kept running and hadn't looked back.

Her tale over, Elgyn turned to Evangeline and Cullen. "We have some theories on what the creatures might be, but we didn't want to alarm the entire village without knowing for sure. We've never seen the like before. It was the mayor's choice, and perhaps it is a sound one."

"It's a small village," noted Evangeline, "surely the word would have spread by now."

Wilhelm nodded. "They know about Delphine's and Ursula's disappearance, but not of the likelihood that these things might very well be Darkspawn."

"If the Grey Wardens had survived Ostagar, perhaps they would have nipped this in the bud. Cailan would have seen to it. But our king and Wardens are dead, and we have been abandoned to fend for ourselves out here." explained Bernard. "Elgyn has been praying for a miracle, and your presence here might be just what we need."

"What happened to Ursula?" asked Evangeline.

"I...don't know," said Nerys meekly. "She was alive when I left her."

"Well, they didn't want to kill you," remarked Cullen. "If you'll pardon my tactless words, they could just as easily have finished the job right when they ambushed you. They seem to need you alive for something."

Tears welled in Nerys' eyes. "Do you think they'll come back for me?"

Cullen shook his head. "They don't seem to a great many of them. They'd need to build their numbers to take on an entire village. Speaking of which," said Cullen as he glanced at Elgyn, "do you have enough guards on watch? I'm fairly certain the Darkspawn won't venture here, but it's best to take no chances."

"We have a few skilled men posted around the walls. They're not Templar material, but they're hardy and brave."

"The mayor had considered sending out some scouts," added Wilhelm, "but our scouts also happen to be some of our best warriors and we can't afford to lose them with this danger so close at hand."

"Perhaps we could look around," suggested Evangeline. She looked at Nerys. "We have an hour or two of daylight left. Do you think you could find the place where you made your escape? I swear that I won't let you come to any harm."

"Go back there?" said Nerys, incredulously. "What if they're still in the area?"

"We have to do something, Nerys." pleaded Elgyn. "You're our best and only hope at finding the others. We can't abandon them to their fate."

"Alright." she conceded. "But don't ever ask me to do this again. Going back there twice in one lifetime is already more than I can handle."

"Thank you," said a grateful Elgyn as he clasped her hands in his own. "My heart is less troubled and you've given me reason to hope."

"And I can have a word with your guards," said Cullen. "See if they're prepared enough. I'll need access to your smithy and armory."

"That won't be a problem. I'll take you there right now."

"Wait!" cried Nerys suddenly. "I...I'll only go if you come with me." she said, looking straight at Cullen. "You seem more capable."

And what does that make me, wondered Evangeline? Chump change?

Cullen stuttered as he stood up. He glanced in Evangeline's direction and then back at Nerys. "I...uh...I assure you, my friend is just as skilled."

Nerys assessed Evangeline doubtfully. "You're, well, taller though. And probably stronger. Your friend and I wouldn't stand a chance against those things if they show up."

Evangeline remained seated with her arms folded across her chest. She was steaming. First, she qualified as hostage-material and now Nerys had dubbed her a weakling. Honestly, what kind of damnable vibe did she give off? Were the words spineless worm tattooed across her forehead for all to see?

"Oh, just go already." said an exasperated Evangeline before she stepped out into the cool evening. "I'll check out their defenses."


As Elgyn led her towards the armory, a new aspect of the incident dawned on her. Was it possible that the girl Nerys was more interested in garnering Cullen's attentions rather than Evangeline's competency as fighter? The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. As soon as her hands had touched Cullen's, Nerys had been deeply affected by the contact.

But surely she wasn't all that interested in seducing her companion. They had only just met. He could be a ruthless mercenary for all Nerys knew. Evangeline sighed. Who was she kidding? He certainly didn't have the aura of a blackguard about him. He was decent, reliable, and far kinder than he gave himself credit for. You could smell his honesty a mile off. And, realized Evangeline, it didn't hurt that he was ever so easy on the eyes.

It should come as little surprise to her then, that Nerys was prepared to subject him to her feminine wiles. Damn those wiles. Evangeline found her heart beating faster at the thought of the pair alone, not a soul in sight and...

"...and as you can see, some of it's not in the greatest condition." said Elgyn.

So immersed was she in her anxieties that she hadn't even noticed entering the armory. To work, then.

She surveyed the cramped interior and worried her lower lip. This was...not good. A few rusted helms, the metal dented and broken in places, sat atop a shelf. Several hauberks were piled in one corner, but some moisture had made its way there as well. Evangeline ran a finger against the interlinked mail and it picked up a thick coating of a reddish hue. She wiped her finger on her trousers.

Evangeline placed her hands on her hips. She doubted that other pieces of chest plates, pauldrons and cuirasses were in any better condition.

"We're going to have to get someone to sort through this all," she instructed. "Salvage what you can and throw the rest out. Make an inventory of what we already have and what we need. I trust that your forge is already up and running?"

"Uh...no. The mayor didn't want a panic on his hands, so he's kept this hushed up for the time being."

"So are you telling me that your smithy isn't even in operation?" she asked in disbelief.

"Oh, it is. But just not for weapons."

She exhaled. "Okay. Let's go have a word with your mayor. Keeping something like this under wraps is well and good, but not at the cost of your lives."


Cullen gazed out at the horizon. The sun had begun to set and it would be dark in a half hour. "Is it much farther?" he asked as waded through the knee-high grass.

"Just over that hill." said Nerys. She gave Cullen a sidelong glance. "What were you Templars doing all the way out here?"

Cullen swatted at a gnat as it buzzed about him. "Our commander received a report of Darkspawn sightings hereabouts and we were instructed to investigate."

"But father said that a messenger was sent out about three weeks ago. Why did it take you this long to make it out here?"

"There were...other incidents that took precedence at the time." You know, abominations, demons, walking corpses.

"Well, I'm glad that you came out here nevertheless. Do you mind if we stop for a few minutes? My ankles are rather sore."

The sun was halfway down. "Just a few minutes. We really should get a move on before it gets dark."

Nerys neatly tucked her dress underneath her before sitting on a small boulder. She removed her shoes and massaged her feet. His mind elsewhere, Cullen surveyed their environment for anything out of the ordinary.

"Where are you from?" asked Nerys.

"What? Honnleath."

"Do you have family there?"

"Yes – two sisters and a brother. My parents remain there as well."

"Anyone else...?" she asked, not lifting her sight off him. His demeanor was tremendously professional and she gave into the temptation of attempting to crack it. She couldn't help but take in his amber eyes, his dusty blond hair, the broad shoulders and athletic physique.

Cullen looked at her, confused. "I suppose some of my older friends are still there, but I left when I was thirteen and lost touch with them."

"Anyone...special?"

What? Oh. "I...uh...no. Not in Honnleath. We should...uh, get going."

Nerys smiled as she slipped her shoes back on. "What about your friend?"

He maintained a nervous silence and didn't respond.


In the fading light, he was lucky to have caught sight of it at all. But the intense blue of the cloth stood out among the brown grass. He'd held it up for Nerys to inspect and she was fairly certain that this was what Ursula was wearing on the day that she went missing. A few yards ahead, he found another similar strip and suspected that their presence was not pure coincidence. Ursula had left a trail for them to follow. Good for her.

But it was growing dark and with significant cloud cover, it would be pointless to keep moving forward. They would pick up the trail the following day.

An awkward silence permeated the air between them as they journeyed back in the dark. Well, awkward for Cullen, at least. He had finally realized that Nerys might have developed some amorous intentions towards him and he didn't quite know how to respond to it. He had to admit to being flattered at the attention though – the girl really was quite pretty.

"You never answered my question, you know." she said. In the dark, her voice seemed as if it was smiling.

"Uh...what question was that?"

"About your friend – Evelyn."

"Evangeline," corrected Cullen. "What about her?"

A chilling gust of wind swept by them. Nerys rubbed her hands against her upper shoulders for warmth. "It's a little cold out, isn't it?"

Cullen paused momentarily, removed his jacket and placed it around her.

"Thank you."

"Well? What about Evangeline?" repeated Cullen.

"She's...well, she's a beautiful girl. I would never have pegged her for a Templar. I only thought men joined your order."

"The majority of us are men, true, but women aren't prohibited from joining."

"She must have a great many admirers, no?"

"I...I wouldn't know anything about that. Why would I know about that?" said Cullen. He could feel his cheeks colouring.

They entered the village gates. All was more or less quiet about them save for the sound of raucous laughter coming from a tavern a few houses down.

"I'm a little parched after all that hiking. Would you...like to buy me a drink?"

He looked away, fervently searching for an escape. "A drink?"

"Yes, Cullen," she laughed. "One harmless drink."

"I...really can't. It's just that – "

She held up an index finger and mouthed: one drink.

Blessed Andraste, she was a persistent one, wasn't she? He doubted that it would be as harmless as she was making it out to be. These things had a tendency to spiral out of control. And he found that – as pretty and charming as Nerys was – his heart was...well, claimed.

"Nerys, I'm so sorry. I...just don't think it's a good idea. It's late and I'm actually rather tired. I hope you can forgive me." He gave her an apologetic smile.

"Only if you'll let me buy you one tomorrow."

"Uh...okay. We'll see," was all he could manage before walking off towards his temporary lodgings. As he rounded the corner, he broke into a jog.


The room was still and the curtains had been pulled shut. Evangeline had left a candle burning for him. He could see her form underneath the bedspread and she appeared to be sleeping. He quietly sat down on the bed opposite hers and began to unlace his boots. The mattress springs creaked slightly under his weight.

"You're back late." came Evangeline's voice from under the sheets.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "And you should be sleeping. So did you check out their defenses? How did it go?"

She sat up in bed with an unhappy frown. "We have a lot of work to do. They never had much reason to maintain their equipment so it's all rather deteriorated. They don't even have their forge up and running. The mayor's concerned that everyone will panic if they knew of the Darkspawn so he's been reluctant to commit to any preparations. I had a word with him today, and I think he's coming around."

"What about the village walls? Think they can hold off against trebuchets? Siege engines?"

Evangeline's eyes widened. "You make it sound like we're going to have to fend off an entire Darkspawn horde. What did you find out there?"

He held out the blue strips of cloth towards her. "Ursula left us a trail. We couldn't follow it all the way though. You and I will have to take a look tomorrow morning. And, no, I don't expect a horde. Just paranoid I suppose."

Evangeline nodded. "I suppose there's – where's your jacket?" she asked suddenly.

"I...I believe I gave it to Nerys."

"Oh. Okay." Evangeline glanced away in contemplation. "Why does she have your jacket?"

"She was cold. Is there...something wrong with giving someone your jacket when they're cold?" His eyes twinkled at her.

"Of course not. Don't be silly."

He nodded as his visage broke into a wide smile. Was that a touch of jealousy he detected?

"It's just a jacket, Evie. It's not like we're getting married in the morning."

Her face fell. "Married? What do you mean – married?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "Relax. I was only joking. Please don't sic your little green monster on me."

"I don't...I'm not...I don't have a little green monster."

The shoe was on the other foot now, and he found it extremely difficult to hide his delighted amusement. "Of course you don't." In a few swift strides, he crossed the room to give her a kiss on the head. "Goodnight, Evie girl."

And then he returned to his own bed and blew out the candle. He went to sleep with a pleased smile on his face.