Everyone thought it was over. Including him.
When they returned to Haven after sealing the Breach, the first thing he did was gather his lieutenants and tell them how proud he was of them. "Against all odds," he said, "you have persevered. If not for you, the Herald would not have been able to reach the summit and use her mark. I want you all to remember every detail of what you did today, and tell it to your children and grandchildren."
Then he dismissed them with a grin. "Enough speech-making! You should go and celebrate."
When he was alone again, he glanced into the sky. The green glowing portal was gone. A faint scar remained. Good. Scars were reminders. He touched the one that marred his lip.
He walked, with no particular destination in mind. His soldiers danced with mages. Elves caroused with humans. The Iron Bull and his Chargers handed out mugs of ale to Chantry folk. There was no suspicion, no fear between them anymore. They were united in victory. Somehow, this motley group of outcasts and refugees had come together to do what no other organization managed. He could be proud of that. It was the Herald, and the hope she symbolized, that bound them.
He walked along the walls, checking the guard posts as he passed out of long habit. The guards hailed him cheerfully. Even tonight, they needed to maintain vigilance. The same number of guards were posted tonight as every night. Those on watch would have their celebration later.
He turned back to the chantry. He hadn't seen the Herald yet since they'd all returned. Would she be one to carouse, perhaps with Sera and Dorian and Varric? Or would she want to relax in quiet contemplation? He wondered idly where she was. Would she care to share a drink with him? As comrades-in-arms, of course; nothing more. They deserved to celebrate together, didn't they? He could invite Cassandra and Josephine and Leliana, as well, so it wouldn't seem too awkward.
"Hey, Curly!" Varric rose from the campfire where he'd been sitting, surrounded by a group of eager listeners.
"Good evening, Varric."
The dwarf left his admirers to join Cullen's slow stroll. "Congratulations are in order. We did it."
"Indeed we did. I admit it hardly seemed possible at times."
"Ha! Yeah. What will you do now?"
"Sleep, probably."
"That's a good start. I didn't want to say anything in front of everyone else, but you had been looking a bit ragged lately. You looking for the Herald?"
"Why would I be looking for her?"
Varric sighed. "Come on, Curly. It's me. I'm not going to disapprove. Now that the Breach is taken care of, you might want to think about what the future holds, and whether she might be part of it."
He'd never considered anything like that. His focus didn't let him. "There's still a lot of work to do."
"Let me give you a piece of advice, Curly. No one ever lay on their death bed saying, 'Gee, I wish I had done more work.'"
"Because people who don't do the work don't have the luxury of dying in bed, Varric. You don't have time for regrets when a demon cuts you down."
"You sure know how to set a mood, Commander. Anyway, just talk to her. With the Breach gone, she doesn't have to play the Herald anymore."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she might enjoy just being a regular woman once in a while, and not a bloody icon. I can't imagine how exhausting that must be."
The warning bell rang then, and wiped out everything else.
#
He steeled himself. At times like this, there was only focus left — nothing else mattered.
"I'm Cole," said the odd boy who met them at the gates. "I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you." He stared directly at the Herald as he said this. "You probably already know."
The Herald's voice was steady. "What is this? What's going on?"
"The Templars come to kill you."
"Templars?" Cullen strode over, sword in hand. He didn't trust this boy. "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?" None of this made sense. What did the Templars hope to gain? The boy made it sound as though they were here specifically for her. Why?
"The Red Templars went to the Elder One," Cole said. He turned again to the Herald, reaching a hand towards her in appeal. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." That sounded almost like a threat. Cullen took a step forward. But Cole reached his other hand towards the mountain. "There."
They looked. Over the peak stood Samson and… a demon? A Darkspawn? Cullen squinted. Was that the "Elder One"?
Cole whispered, "He's very angry that you took his mages."
Cullen grit his teeth, his hand on his sword hilt. Samson he could handle. The Elder One…
"Cullen!" The Herald's voice cut through his thoughts. "Give me a plan. Anything."
Yes. A plan. His mind was already clicking elements into place. "Haven is no fortress," he said, thinking out loud. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can."
He turned to his soldiers without waiting for her response. He trusted her.
#
That monster… was that an Archdemon? By the Void. He called for a retreat. "Move it! Move it!" She was the last one through. As soon as she made it, he closed the gates. "We need everyone back to the chantry. It's the only building that might hold against… that beast." He shared a look with her. Her eyes were grim. "At this point, just make them work for it."
Make them pay for every inch. If they were going to go down, then they would go down fighting, by the Maker. They would die deaths they could be proud of.
Of course, the Herald went one step beyond, as she always did, rescuing what villagers she could on her way back to the chantry. He ran over as soon as he spotted her. "Herald. Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."
"I've seen an Archdemon," said the strange boy. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."
"I don't care what it looks like. It's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven."
"The Elder One doesn't care about the village," the boy said. "He only wants the Herald."
How did the boy know so much about the Elder One?
The Herald seemed to believe him. "If it will save these people, then he can have me."
Before Cullen could argue, the boy said curtly, "It won't. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."
"You don't like—" There was no point. There was no time to interrogate the stranger. It was time to tell her the cold truth of their situation. "Herald. There are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."
"We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven."
She didn't understand what he was saying, not yet. She was ready to sacrifice herself, but she still believed she could protect everyone else. He held her gaze steadily. "We're dying. But we can decide how. Many don't get that choice." What was that Varric had said about regrets on the death bed? Well, make this a death he wouldn't regret.
The Herald stared back at him, absorbing his words. Grappling with their meaning.
Cole murmured something. "Chancellor Roderick can help," he said. "He wants to say it before he dies."
"There is a path," the chancellor said, his voice a painful rasp. "You wouldn't know it, unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage. As I have." The Herald moved towards him to hear better. Roderick pulled himself to standing. "The people can escape. She must have shown me — Andraste must have shown me so I could tell you."
"What about it, Cullen? Will it work?" Her eyes pleaded with him. She desperately needed to believe it could.
He didn't want to make her any false promises. "Possibly. If he shows us the path. What of your escape?"
She didn't answer him. Turned away.
So she did know. There are no tactics that make this survivable. She'd decided how she was going to die. He had to respect that.
"Perhaps you will surprise it," he said. "Find a way." You must, he wanted to add. But he didn't. There were other people here that needed him. Their safety was his responsibility. He barked out his orders, then turned back to the Herald. "They'll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the treeline." She nodded and made for the door. He called to her, "If we are to have a chance… if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you."
It was the last time he saw her.