The Inquisitor's Ghost

Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine. Also, the song Leliana sings in this chapter is called Leliana's Song and she sang it in Dragon Age Origins.

Chapter 20 – Leliana's Song

At Shartan's word, the sky

Grew black with arrows

At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords

Rang from their sheaths

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free

- Shartan 10:1, Dissonant Verse

A massive pile of blood-red curls were twisted and tangled over crisp white sheets, the pristine white a sharp contrast with the deep, dark crimson. The head beneath all those curls lifted, chin resting on a white pillow. Sorrowful eyes of the coolest shade of blue mixed with a vibrant shade of green stared into one of the tall, narrow windows set high in the walls of her bedchamber. A dim shaft of sunlight pierced the dusty windowpane, and she watched as bits of dust caught in the sunlight as they flittered about her room.

There were meetings she needed to attend, reports to be read, and training to be done, but she was unable to rise from her bed and she didn't plan on rising anytime soon. Yesterday she'd ridden Tadwinks as hard as she could. She'd contemplated not returning. But she saw the mark on her left hand and knew she had to return. Her life didn't matter in this fight. This fight only wanted her power, her magic, her blood, and most likely her death. Her heart was irrelevant. It's breaking immaterial.

Right now, her heart was fragile, her mind unable to halt a creeping sense of melancholy and isolation. It seemed to permeate her very soul, bringing her spirits so low as to become utterly oppressive. She was as dismal as ever. She hadn't felt this low since she'd left the dungeons of the White Spire five years ago – eighteen, an apostate, with a bleeding heart.

Blood. Why was she always bleeding it? Why did the world want to take so much of it from her? Didn't it know that she would run out one day? She could only bleed so much before she had nothing left.

So deep in her depressive thoughts was she that she didn't hear them enter her quarters. She jumped slightly when someone jumped onto her bed.

"Rise and shine, Inky!" Sera chirped happily with an annoying amount of energy.

Trying to block out all the good cheer that poured out of the teenager's voice, Ember covered her head with a pillow, feeling very much three and twenty, but it quickly got ripped away. Ember reached over her shoulder blindly for it, and got smacked on the side of the head.

"Wake up, Her Gracious Ladybits!" Sera sang while rolling around on her bed.

Ember dropped her face into her sheets and mumbled, "Please, stop making sounds with your mouth."

"Do you have any idea what time it is, sweeting?" she heard Leliana chastise somewhere behind her.

"No, and I don't want to know either," Ember groaned, and buried her face into her only remaining pillow while Sera bounced on the bed beside her.

"Come on, Inky," Sera whined. "It's game night! You've never gone to one, not a single one. You're gonna go to this one!"

Game night? Oh, hell no. She couldn't go to the Herald's Rest. What if she saw Cole? She shuddered to think of it. She couldn't pretend everything was fine, not with him. Those eyes saw too much and that mouth had no filter on it. She really didn't want to hear about his night with Candy. Bull would ask about it, she was sure of it.

Ember turned her head to the side to face Sera, and mustered a firm tone, "I'm not going anywhere."

Josie appeared on the side of her bed beside Sera and tsked her. "Would this have anything to do with a certain tall, blonde, handsome Commander?"

Ember gaped. "What?"

Leliana giggled as she stepped next to Josie. "Oh, please don't act all innocent. It was Cullen you were asking all those sex questions about, no?"

Sera snorted. "Hope he took you right up the Dales."

Ember groaned and pressed her face into her pillow again. "I'm not going," she said into her pillow.

"But Leliana's gonna sing tonight! Sing!" Sera squealed with excitement. "You can't miss that, Inky!"

"Not to mention every ally we have will be there to witness our very own spy master," Josie added. "The people say she sings like an angel."

"Oh, get off it," Sera chortled. "You just wanna go because Blackwall left you and you need a new footstone to polish."

"He didn't just leave me," Josie shot back, flushed with anger, her ire apparent. "He left the Inquisition. We have no idea where he went or why!"

"We'll find him, Josie," Leliana said lightly with a gentle touch to Josie's arm. "I have my agents on it."

Josie's ire fell from her lovely face to show her lingering heartbreak as she touched her friend's hand, needing the comfort and support.

"Who gives a shite about ol' bushy beard," Sera cackled. "I wanna hear how the uppity Commander plucked the Inquisitor's cherry!"

"I'm not going," Ember sighed and rolled onto her back and tried to pull the covers back over her head but they got yanked away.

"Come on, Inky! Tell us all about it! Does frowny face shout 'by the order' when he comes?" The elf giggled, looking down at her.

Ember glared. "I'm not going!"

"Well, aren't ya a big frickin ray of sunshine," Sera grumbled with a huff.

Ember caught the scent of Sera's breath and waved a hand in front of her nose. "Whew, it smells like someone's already been drinking."

The elf winked at her. "The night's only just begun, Inky."

Ember rolled over. "Well, I'm not going."

"Aww, come on!" Sera groaned. "I need my partner in crime, ya? And everyone's gonna be there!"

"No," Ember growled.

The elf got out of the bed, stomped around it, and put her face right in front of Ember's, scowling. "If you don't get your skinny arse out of this bed right now, I'm gonna throw bees at your head!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Despite the very loud complaining from the others, Ember wore her superior hunter armor to the tavern with black leather boots that reached her knees, black hide pants, ring-velvet cloth that covered her arms and wrapped around her torso, and a matching black cropped jacket. She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she exited the keep with Sera on one side and Josie on the other.

The archer looked cute and spunky in a sleeveless pale pink top that hugged her every curve, black tights, and bulky boots.

Josie looked stunningly gorgeous with her flawless olive-skin, her light gray eyes heavily kohled, her lips dark red, and her ebony black hair wrapped in a perfect up-do. She had a figure that every woman dreamed of with voluptuous curves in all the right places and a bust so generous that Ember would have thought it nearly impossible for the woman to stand upright. She wore an expensive-looking deep gold skirt that flared out and reached the floor, ankle boots with heels, gold jewels everywhere, and an emerald-colored top that left little to the imagination.

Josie was clearly wearing that outfit to attract attention. It was obvious the ambassador was hurt from Blackwall's desertion and wanted to forget him in someone else. Looking like that the woman wouldn't have any problem finding a replacement.

Ember wasn't a self-conscious person and didn't give a fig about her looks, but being sandwiched between these two women was definitely giving her self-deprecating thoughts. She was uncomfortably aware of her own lack of femininity and sensuality.

She'd never been beautiful or feminine. Boys had never sweet-talked her, always opting for the prettier girl in the room. Her face was too plain and too angular, her eyes too large for her face, her body built like a boy's, her hair color and freckles more striking than pretty. Not to mention she was a very guarded person due to living the life of an apostate since she was eight-years-old. But she was strong, her will that of steel, and not even the crack of a whip could break her spirit, despite the many she'd taken in her life.

That strength settled her nerves and warmed her, giving her eyes a kind of sparkle reserved for the stars, and an inner fire that not even a dragon could muster. If strength was beautiful, then she was Andraste herself.

Summoning an air of confidence Ember certainly didn't feel, she matched the two pretty women stride for stride as they made their way out of the keep and across the lawn to the Herald's Rest where a Qunari guard was standing due to the special event happening that night.

The massive Qunari male didn't recognize them, which wasn't a surprise as few did. Sensing the guard's reluctance to let them in, Josie leaned forward a little, sticking out her ample chest. The Antivan exuded an air of sensuality that was irresistible, from the lush fullness of her lips to the sensual look in her grey eyes that fluttered prettily.

"I think you should let in the Inquisition's Ambassador, no?" Josie said in a low, husky voice.

The Qunari bouncer made eye contact with Josie's barely covered breasts and told them, "Sure, you're in."

She winked at him and he let them in.

Ember mouthed a "thank you" to Josie for her indiscretion, not wanting to be recognized as the Herald of Andraste. Josie smiled back and Ember followed Josie and Sera as they walked through the front door into the sea of bodies taking up every inch of the full tavern.

Ember paused at the threshold of the tavern as Josie strolled into the room with a seductive sway to her hips, as if she owned it, and Sera bounced in on the balls of her feet, as if she couldn't wait to cause trouble.

It was dark. The tavern was dimly lit with ceiling chandeliers and candles on the walls and tables, the low lighting deadening the senses to better the flow of coin from pockets and purses. The air was heavy with smoke, alcohol, and tobacco. Maker, it was loud. A bard was playing her lute, but the sound could barely be heard over the idle chatter, joking, fighting, and laughing coming from the hundreds of people jam-packed into the three-story tavern.

Ember looked around at all the people in the room and felt as if she'd swallowed a belly full of ice. Everywhere she looked people were with drinks in hand, talking and laughing in pairs or in groups. The room was too packed and too loud. It was stuffy too, with not enough air for everyone in the room.

The whole thing was starting to give her a headache. To be honest, it didn't look like fun. It looked dangerous. A knife could be jabbed into a pair of ribs without anyone noticing. It was the perfect place for an assassin. Or an ambush of templars. It made her hackles rise instead of feeling like fun. But everyone else, however, seemed to be having fun.

Does that make me a freak? she thought. Or just a mage still used to the life of an apostate?

Ember felt sick and had the idiotic impulse to turn and run. Instead, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, but that was all she could do. She didn't step into the tavern. She was paralyzed in the doorway and the Qunari guard was getting annoyed with her.

As if sensing her uncertainty, Sera drew an arm around her shoulders. Ember exhaled slowly and then gave Sera a false smile. The elf grinned back and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the room, the door closing behind them.

A young mage by the massive fireplace stared as she walked by. Ember smiled at her. "Your Worship," the girl muttered before quickly averting her eyes. That was the response Ember typically got from people that recognized her. At least it meant that they left her alone.

Sera led Ember to a large table in the corner of the room on the first floor by the bar that was pressed up against the wall.

"Well now! When did you get here, Inquisitor?" Dorian inquired merrily, his cheeks already flushed with drink, and Josie took the seat beside him.

Ember's lips quirked. "When I walked through the door."

Dorian's eyes rolled. "Smartass."

"You're late," Cullen scolded Ember playfully as he walked up behind her with a bottle of wine and a glass in his hand.

"Told you so," Bull muttered from his place at the table. "Now, pay up, Curly."

Cullen grumbled as he set his glass down and reached into his pocket and slapped a few coins in the Qunari's hand.

"Finally, now we can get this game started," Cassandra grumbled in irritation from the seat beside Varric.

"It's friggin loud in here, yeah?" Sera grimaced as she tossed her muddy feet up onto the table.

Cullen sat down, smiling at Ember, and pointed at the chair beside him. "Are you going to be joining us, Inquisitor?" he asked eagerly with a broad grin, his eyes filled with hope.

"I'm not sure yet," Ember replied uneasily.

"The more the merrier, your Inquisitorialness," Varric added as he sat down at the end of the table with the cards in his hands, winking at her.

"Alright," Ember said nervously before taking the only available chair left, which was right beside Cullen.

All of her companions and advisors were there, except for Solas, Vivienne, and Blackwall. Ember nervously scanned the crowd for Cole, not sure what she would do if she saw him. She couldn't help but wonder if he would be with Candy. The name was like a dagger to the heart. Her eyes scanned the crowd. There were hundreds of people here, and all but a handful were strangers to her. But she didn't see Cole anywhere. She couldn't tell if she was happy or sad that he wasn't there.

The serving girl Beth with the chestnut tresses and hazel eyes arrived at their table with drinks and Varric clapped his hands together. "Alright, everyone drink up!" he cheered. "The first round is on me!"

"Oooh, then I hope you won't mind if I get myself a nice bit of Antivan wine," Josie chimed in.

"That shit's horse piss," Bull grumbled to her. "What you want is Par Vollen whiskey. Kicks like a donkey on its way down, but hot damn it will kick you on your ass."

"So how about a quick round to warm up first?" Varric asked, ushering Beth to serve the drinks. "I'll go easy on you guys."

"Especially the Inquisitor, since this is her first time and all. Everyone knows you gotta go easy on a virgin," Bull said with a wink.

"Hell with easy," Sera shouted while slamming her drink down before pointing an accusatory finger at Varric. "I wanna take back what ya owe me, dickbag!"

Varric's eyebrow rose. "My dear Buttercup, I accept your challenge, though may I remind you that I won your money fair and square."

"Fair and square my arse!" the elf shouted at the drawf.

Cassandra snorted. "Don't worry about what Sera thinks, Varric, she doesn't do it very often."

The elf threw her mug at the Seeker, but she dodged it. "Shove it!"

As Varric shuffled the cards he looked up at Ember. "I'm glad you could make it, Red. To be honest, we all wanted to see what 'her worship' looks like with her hair down."

"And her chin covered in vomit," Dorian chimed in with a raise of his glass to her.

Ember's red eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"To see what kind of drunk you are!" Josie laughed prettily.

"To see what we can get you to do," Cassandra smiled evilly.

"But most importantly, to loosen your tongue," Bull finished with a wicked grin as he pushed a mug of Par Vollen whiskey toward her. Ember wrinkled her nose at it.

"Here, have some of mine," Cullen smiled, offering his glass of wine to her. "I promise you'll like it." His voice was like warm honey.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Josie drawled flirtatiously, leaning across the table to show off even more of her bosom than usual. Ember couldn't help but wonder if Cullen was on the ambassador's list of possible candidates to replace Blackwall.

"Jokes? From Josie? A special occasion, indeed," Cullen laughed with a friendly smile.

"A special occasion would be two women at once, no?" Josie shot back with a lifted eyebrow.

"Hot damn! I think we should get Lady Ambassador drunk more often!" Bull exclaimed.

"Josephine jokes all the time. It's just that she's not funny," Cassandra stated indifferently, and winced when Josie bounced a saltshaker off her shoulder.

As Varric dealt everyone in one by one, Ember couldn't help but let her eyes scan the crowd again. But she didn't see a shaggy blonde head or startling blue eyes. Was he with Candy? Were they in her bed right now? That knife slid a little bit more between her ribs.

"Are you alright?" she heard Cullen ask with concern beside her.

Ember looked at him and plastered a fake smile on her face hoping it covered up her heartache. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Cullen's hand touched her arm that was resting on the table. "You need to unwind. Relax yourself."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "What the Commander means is that you should get drunk," he translated.

"You have been kinda down lately," Bull added. "Don't worry. Alcohol will fix that."

Grabbing Cullen's wineglass, Ember shot it back and felt the expected warmth flood through her. She knew it was a false comfort, one that would leave her feeling just as low as before when it was over. But she needed it right now.

"You're up, Inquisitor," Varric said.

"Oh. How many points do I get for blank card?" Ember asked, clueless.

"You don't get points in Wicked Grace – and you shouldn't even have a blank card!" Varric's head slammed into his hands in despair.

Nearly an hour later, Sera was shrieking, "Gimme, gimme, gimme!" The elf's eyes were glazed. "Oh, come on, dwarf. I got no more money. You got all those little stacks. Gimme some a yours. Gimme!" Sera screeched.

"Oooh… desperation… now there's a scent I like on a woman," Bull said with a smirk.

"How about the scent of leather?" Dorian chimed in, his speech heavily slurred.

"Now you're just being kinky," Bull garbled.

"You know… you two are weird ones," Cassandra muttered.

Dorian shrugged with a smile. "Normality is overrated. As are ball gags."

Ember laughed despite herself. "Seriously, is there room for anything else between your ears besides thoughts of lechery?"

Bull's one eye followed after a red-haired elf with a very short dress. "Gotta go hit that," he muttered before standing, stumbling slightly, and stalking after the red-haired elf into the kitchens.

Ember snorted. "I guess that answers my question."

"I gotta go shake some dew off the lily," Sera burped as she stood on unsteady legs.

"That sounds delightful," Dorian deadpanned, looking disgusted.

Minutes later, Sera came swaggering up to Ember. "Gonna dance. You in, Inky?"

Ember answered honestly, "I don't know how to dance."

Josie raised an eyebrow. "Are you a woman?"

Ember blinked. "Yes."

"Then you know how to dance. Come on."

Sera took Josie's and Ember's hands and began pulling them through the crowd of people. Three nobles were ogling Josie as she sauntered onto the dance floor. Were they staring heatedly at the ambassador because of how low cut her top was? Or was it because of the way she gently swayed her hips to the music the bard played?

Josie stopped in front of the bard, letting go of Ember's hand. Ember studied Josie closely, trying to follow her moves, as she began to sway her hips in a sensual figure eight motion, running her hands up and down her sides, moving slowly and making it look like touching her self was the most wonderful feeling she'd ever had.

Josie turned to the side and began to undulate in a slow body ripple starting at her head, then chest, then stomach, then finally her pelvis that moved in a wave-like motion. She let her fingers sink into her raven-black hair that was piled on top of her head as she danced. The woman exuded sex appeal and seemed to attract every man, and every woman for that matter, that caught a glimpse of her.

"How do you do that?" Ember asked in awe.

"Do what, Inquisitor?"

"Move like that."

"Move like what?"

Ember gestured to all of her. "All… wavy like."

Josie giggled. "You can move like that."

Ember shook her head emphatically. "No, I can't."

"Yes, you can. All women can be a seductive goddess."

"Righttt," Ember drawled disbelievingly.

Josie swayed her hips, dragging a hand across her flat stomach. "It's purely instinctual. It's the power of our gender."

"Okay… that's my cue." Ember turned to leave.

Josie looked stunned. "Where are you going?"

Ember called over her shoulder, "To sit down for a bit."

"Stinker," Sera shouted at her retreating back with a frown before she sashayed towards the bard and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she started dancing in front of the bard while she played. Obviously, the bard was the archer's soon-to-be lover for the night.

Ember walked away and sat at the large table where the others were still playing cards, but she declined to play. She placed her chin in her palm and surveyed the room. The smell of wood burning and meat roasting drifted up to greet her along with the sound of logs popping in the heat of a fire across from her. The music, laughter, and sounds of merriment were nice to hear, especially during these troubling times. She was glad they were doing this. The people needed a night to just live their lives. But she was so pathetically miserable and she hated it. She didn't want everyone around her to feel how miserable she was and ruin their night. Maybe she could slip out and no one would notice.

"If you keep frowning like that, you're going to have major frown lines," she heard Cullen say as he took the seat beside her.

She looked up at him with mock irritation. "Thanks. I needed that reminder. Why don't you just squirt lemon juice in my eye while you're at it?"

He laughed, the sound rich like molten chocolate, the scar on his lip making him looked even more attractive. She noticed then that he wasn't wearing his typical armor. He wore an expensive looking light green tunic with sleeves and loose brown pants. He looked… well, the entire room was staring at him with lust in their eyes.

He was asking her something, she realized, though she didn't know what.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. "I just got a little lost in my thoughts."

"Thinking about me?" Cullen asked the question as more of a statement with a winning smile that could melt a woman's heart.

Ember replied with a smile. This time, it was not forced.

Cullen drained the last of his wine and a pretty, half-dressed serving girl appeared at the table almost immediately, as if she'd been waiting for him to finish.

"What'll it be, handsome?" The serving girl asked Cullen with a wink and a sultry smile on her pink lips.

Cullen gave her a disarming smile. "Another bottle, please. And an extra glass for the Inquisitor."

The serving girl sensually bit her bottom lip as her eyes grazed over the Commander appreciatively. "You got it," she said in a sweet voice before taking his glass and empty bottle away to fetch another one.

Ember scoffed at the woman.

And another one bites the dust.

"She's not my type," Cullen told Ember with a knowing smile.

Ember tilted her head. "What is your type?" she asked, curious.

Cullen's eyes gleamed as he leaned towards her, a charming smile on his mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he said in a velvety voice, the light stubble on his face making him appear rugged and very manly.

The serving girl returned with the bottle of wine and two wine glasses. After a few sips of the wine, Ember let her finger run around the rim of her glass, her eyes lifting to Cullen's. "If I'd ever pictured you having a type, Josie would fit it perfectly – smart, sophisticated, tall, slim, refined, and knockout gorgeous."

"Hmm," he mused as he watched her finger circle the rim of her glass, as if he was thinking on what she'd said and found it interesting.

Ember attempted to make conversation with Cullen, but every five minutes some woman with legs that went on for days would come along and interrupt them. He didn't seem to care. He would just sit there offering them polite smiles and one-worded responses until they left.

Half an hour later - after they'd spent thirty minutes talking, laughing, and drinking - Ember giggled until she fell out of her chair. Cullen burst out laughing causing wine to spray from his mouth all over their table.

"Up you go," Cullen said in a singsong voice as he stumbled in helping the giggling drunk Inquisitor off the floor and back into her chair, their excessive drinking taking its toll. Ember's cheeks were as red as her hair from the alcohol and her giggling fit as she was plopped back into her chair.

"Another bottle!" Cullen called out to serving girl with a sweep of his hand that knocked over their empty glasses on the table.

"Alright, alright, it's my turn," Ember slurred after collecting herself somewhat and pointed a swaying finger at her other drinking partner. "Alright, Dorian, what's your favorite robes?"

Dorian laughed. "That's easy! The purple ones with the golden lining. Does wonders for the figure, wouldn't you agree?"

Ember laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "You mean the ones that make you look like a tulip?"

Dorian put on a face of mock offense. "I'll have you know, my dear, that those robes have caused an eye or two to turn in my day."

The cherry-haired woman smiled. "Oh, of that I have no doubt."

Dorian's attention was caught by a heartstoppingly gorgeous young man with raven black hair and dark green eyes. "My, my, my… what have we here?" he murmured with blatant desire in his eyes that followed after the young man. "Why don't I…"

"Go get him," Ember chuckled as she shoved Dorian out of his seat and towards the young man. "Give him that famous Minrathit… Minratham… Minrathtits charm," Ember hiccupped.

"Did you just say 'tits'?" Dorian laughed. "You are drunk, Inquisitor!"

Ember snorted. "The Inquisitor doesn't get drunk, she just has fun."

Dorian smiled before hurrying after the young man while Ember laughed with Cullen.

Ember briefly looked at the graveyard of empty glasses in front of her before setting another drink down on the table. As she ran her finger along the wet rim of her glass, she had to admit that she felt better than she had when she woke up. Not happy, per say, but nice and… insensitive. Anesthetized. Numb.

"Can I ask you something?" Ember ventured once Cullen had turned away yet another woman.

Cullen returned his eyes to hers and smirked, looking more than a little drunk. "I don't know, can you?"

Ember fought the smile that threatened to form. "Don't get cute."

An appealing grin adorned those too-handsome features. "Get cute? I thought I already was."

Her eyes widened at his blatant flirting and his boldness. "Who are you and what have you done with Cullen?"

"Liquid courage, I guess." Cullen rested his chin on his knuckles as he studied her. "You aren't like the rest of the women I know."

Ember looked down at the glass in her hand, her cheeks burning. Drops of water slid down the surface of the glass and the glass reflected and distorted the candle light from the room.

"You're especially pretty when you're blushing."

"What?" Ember stammered as she looked up at him.

Cullen was grinning at her like the Cheshire cat. "If beauty were time, you'd be eternity."

Ember blinked. "Oh. That's… umm… that's very… huh."

"Yeah, I know." Cullen laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "What do you want from me? I don't have anything prepared."

Cullen flashed her another winsome smile, and she found herself smiling back.

"Here you go, loves," the serving girl said as she placed a new bottle of wine in front of her and Cullen, and Ember thanked her.

"Alright, my turn. Favorite color?" Asked Cullen as he took a gulp of the drink in his hand, returning to the game they'd been playing with Dorian.

Ember's smile faltered. "Blue," she sighed wistfully, her eyes flicking away. "Blue like melted ice, with specks of white like winter snowflakes."

Cullen's face contorted with confusion. "That's very specific."

Ember forced a smile as she sipped her drink. "What about you?"

Cullen looked at her and smiled charmingly as he answered in a low voice, "Aquamarine." He reached out and cupped her cheek. "Green like malachite mixed with sapphire blue."

Ember's cheeks warmed. "That's… very specific."

"It's my favorite color," he answered smoothly with that charming smile. "Though I'm also very fond of red," he added as a finger wrapped around a russet curl resting against her cheek.

"You're very good at making a woman feel special, you know?"

"Not sure why." He shrugged, his finger still wrapped in her hair. "I've never been very good with women."

She blinked, surprised. "Really?"

The blonde nodded, embarrassed, his grin slipping. "The few women that I've… it's never me they want," he answered dejectedly before pulling his hand away and staring glumly into his wine glass.

Ember bit her lip and stared into her wine glass too.

"You need another drink, handsome?" Beth, the serving girl asked Cullen with a bat of her lashes.

"Sure," Cullen answered with a polite smile. "And a slice of your famous chocolate cake for the Inquisitor, please."

The serving girl returned with another bottle of wine as well as a large piece of chocolate cake that she placed in front of Ember. Cullen continued to brood into his drink until Ember began to eat the cake. Cullen smiled as she moaned quietly around a piece of the delicious, chocolatey goodness.

Moments later and the bartender shouted for everyone to quiet down for the main event of the night. Most of the lights were blown out, darkening the room. Her companions and advisors returned to the table, taking their seats, Sera taking the seat beside Ember. The tavern was body to body packed with people, but the entire tavern became deathly silent as Leliana moved toward the bard on the first floor beside the fireplace with the grace of an assassin. How a person could move like that, all lithe curves and swaying grace, was a mystery Ember knew she would never figure out.

Leliana's flawless skin had a layer of make-up and rouge that made her breathtaking, primped down to the last eyelash. The redhead was all legs in her typical apparel that was flattering on her delicately voluptuous figure. Leliana's face was sharply elegant and calculating as her frozen blue eyes surveyed and instantly assessed every patron she passed, ignoring the rapturous expression every man and woman seemed to wear around her. There was one ability that Leliana dominated exceptionally well and which clearly gave her insurmountable confidence: her use of her sensuality. She always got whatever and whoever she wanted.

The room was silent as Leliana stood beside the bard, her eyes soft as they took in the room. "We near the end, brothers and sisters, where destiny awaits us," she said in that lovely voice of hers. "Death may come, but do not fear it, or hate it. Death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies to allow our spirits to fly free."

A beautiful sentiment, Ember thought, hoping it would bring some peace and hope to those that heard it, as it was surely meant to.

"So, take comfort, my friends," Leliana continued. "Take joy. Take love. Take them where you can find them. Enjoy this night."

The bard's fingers fell expertly across the strings of her lute and Leliana began to sing a slow, haunting tune with the sweetest melody. The gasp from the room was in unison. Her voice… it truly was that of an angel.

"Wow," Sera whispered beside her. Sera's eyes were glued to the Spy Master just like hers. Just like every one else in the room.

Her voice was so beautiful that some people had already been moved to tears. While she listened to her, Ember felt like Leliana was singing for her, and only her. She loved the pleasure and dolor, the delight and the pain that Leliana's heavy heart imparted to her. It was all part of her reality – the mission, the hope, the grief.

Leliana's voice faded to nothing and the entire room was silent before bursting into applause, a standing ovation. Leliana nodded before leaving the way she'd come in with a handsome blonde elf with a tattoo on his face that Ember had thought looked familiar. The moment the Spy Master left the tavern with the elf, the room burst into chatter, laughter, joking, and fighting again.

Sera nudged Ember with her elbow, pulling her gaze away from the door. "Here, Inky," Sera said handing her a napkin and a piece of decorative glass.

"What's this for?" Ember asked.

Sera giggled. "You got chocolate all over your face, yeah?"

"Oh," Ember said quietly turning a bright shade of red. "Thank you."

Ember took the napkin and the piece of glass in her hands. She chuckled to herself when she saw chocolate in the corners of her mouth from the cake she'd eaten.

I'm such a mess.

Ember tried to fight her grin as she used the napkin to clean herself up. As she looked at herself in the glass her eyes shifted, her face blurred, and the faces behind her came into focus.

In the dark corner of the room behind her, impossibly bright blue eyes were fixed unwavering on her. They stared at her so intently that she was surprised she hadn't felt them boring into her back.

Her heart pounded furiously. Her lungs grew tight, about to collapse, as she stared wide-eyed at shaggy blonde hair, harshly carved features, and skin like snowy, porcelain perfection.

There was suddenly no one else in the entire room; all the external noise fading into the distance. Her eyes took in his long, lanky form that was folded into a wooden chair beside a small table, standing apart from everyone and everything else.

She felt her chest seize and was physically unable to look away from Cole's face – a face that had hovered above hers while he'd moved inside of her like he needed her in order to breathe. She felt the sick pounding of her pulse in her ears as she stared, her eyes like saucers. She didn't even blink. She didn't want to break the connection that held her enraptured. It was as if she had captured him and he was living in a locked cell she had unwittingly created for him made up of glass.

His eyes flickered and shifted to drag like fingers over her, so concentrated she felt them like a caress on her skin. His ardent gaze unleashed a sudden torrent of emotion within her. Every time he looked at her like that, with all his attention focused on her and nothing but her, the intensity of it was almost too much for one person to bear.

When they both realized they'd been spotted by the other, the glass fell from her fingers with a clatter upon the table top. Ember stared down at the glass, her chest rising and falling rapidly in shallow breaths.

She didn't want to look at him again. She didn't want to feel what she felt when she looked at him. Not when she knew he'd slept with someone else last night. At the thought, the pain hit her, a quick and stabbing flare in her chest. She was frozen in place, unable to breath for the vice that had clamped itself around her chest, her lungs unable to take in all but the smallest of short, painful breaths. Her stomach pitched and churned as though she might be sick, her eyes welling up.

Moments passed and when Ember finally regained the ability to breath and felt safe in the belief that the very telling pink had fled from her warm face, she slowly lifted the glass again with a trembling hand.

His seat was empty.