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Chapter XXVI – Cullen

The rains came on the fifth day of the siege. A day later, the first Venatori reinforcements arrived, bolstering the enemy numbers from two-hundred to four-hundred. The rain turned to sleet and the mercenaries came after that. Now they had more than a thousand enemy combatants at their door and more were pouring out of the mountains as they watched, helpless. Soon, the valley was filled with the last dregs of Red Templars, Venatori, and mercs. They were under siege, the enemy had hostages, and all Cullen could think about was the Inquisitor's Maker-damned flowers.

The annuals were, as they often did this time of year, dying. The colder weather was too much for them. The perennials, that might have survived, were destroyed though. The hail and sleet had torn their leaves and crushed their flowers. All the Inquisitor's hard work, ruined in one storm.

All their hard work…ruined.

He sensed Leliana before he heard her. Cullen did not get up from where he was seated under the roof of the gazebo. The garden was abandoned, their usual guests were inside the keep, drinking and playing games and pretending nothing wrong was happening.

"The Inquisitor will plant more," Leliana said, she pressed a steaming cup of mulled wine into his hands. "Drink," she insisted, "catching ill now would not bode well for us,"

Cullen lifted the cup to his lips and drank. He preferred his Ferelden ales and ciders, but there was something comforting about the warm, deep spiciness of mulled wine; still, the drink warmed his bones, but not his heart. The chill of defeat had taken him; ice had formed around his heart making every beat a struggle.

"So this is how the mighty Inquisition falls? Our people taken, our Inquisitor missing, homes burning—"

"Cullen…" Leliana began, but he stopped her with a hard glare.

"I've failed, Leliana—she left us here to protect our people, our home. What would she say if she could see this?"

Leliana frowned; "I imagine it would be something along the lines of 'we get our people back and we punish those who did this,' she may even curse."

Cullen couldn't help but smirk. "Maybe even throw in a blasphemy for good measure."

Leliana laughed, "She will be very angry when she comes back; these Venatori," she spat the word like an obscenity, "have no idea what they've done."

"If, Leliana," Cullen couldn't help his melancholy. It kept swallowing him back up like an ocean tide. Every time he made headway, it pulled him back under. "You said it yourself, she's in trouble. We don't know if she's coming back."

"I'm surprised at you Commander," Leliana sighed. "Our Inquisitor has defeated Corypheus and lived, she walked into Halamshiral a virgin to the Game, and survived; she has battled dragons, Red Templars, crawled out of the Fade—twice—and you doubt her chances now?" She scoffed as if his misgivings were the most ridiculous thing in the world. "To borrow a phrase from Varric—never bet against the hero. Out Inquisitor will return because she always does."

Cullen sighed and drained his wine cup. "She's not invincible,"

"No, she is not." Leliana agreed. "But I have to believe; we are not finished Cullen. We are not finished." Cullen didn't respond. He looked over the garden and watched the sleet decimate the plants. "We cannot allow them to keep the hostages; my scouts say they have moved them into the Chantry,"

"Do you have a plan?" Cullen asked. He had spent days pouring over maps of the valley, blueprints, even the scale model one of the architects has presented to Josephine. But he had nothing. Skyhold, the village—they had been built to withstand siege. They were perfectly defensible; they had never imagined they would have to be the ones to break through the village defenses.

"I do," Leliana took his empty cup and together they made for the keep. "We're going to need some help. I've sent messengers through the tunnels to hunt down the Starkhaven archers and Merrill's people."

"Have they been spotted?"

"They retreated into the woods, away from the valley. My scouts came across a small group of mercenaries, a few were dead. They found a broken arrow fletched in white,"

"So they haven't abandoned us," Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. By the time the Inquisition's retreat had been sounded, the Starkhaven Archer Corps had melted into the woods, their tents and horses gone. There had been evidence that they had fought alongside the Inquisition, but they had pulled back before the defeat became evident. "Then what's your plan?"

"We need a distraction. I was thinking we open negotiations," Leliana almost sounded sinister. "If we can lure their leaders into negotiations, it will be easier to get to their hostages."

The keep was warm and smelled of roasting meat and mulled wine. The mood in the throne room was awkward—a mix of celebration masked by the feeling of total dread. The nobles were trying to keep themselves busy and Cullen was thankful for that, he would rather they act as if nothing was wrong and continue their festivities than have to deal with questions he didn't have answers for.

"What should I do in the meantime?" Cullen asked, once they were in Josephine's now empty (and somber) office. There was no telling whether the archers or even Merrill's folk would answer their summons, but if they had even a little bit of a plan, Cullen wanted to keep busy. It was the only way to keep himself from moping around.

"I would say you should get some rest, but I know you won't listen," Leliana smirked. "Drill the troops maybe?"

Cullen nodded. "What will you do?"

"I have every faith in the Inquisitor, but we need help," was all she said, before taking some of Josephine's official stationary and excusing herself.

In the silence of Josephine's office, Cullen entertained the idea of taking a nap, but he knew his sleeping patterns. He was not a man who could nap. But he had trouble leaving the room. This was wrong—Josephine was always in this room. This was the center of the Inquisition. They were all important, but it was Josephine that put forth their unmistakable image. An image so carefully cultivated from almost nothing; a washed up Templar, an untrusted Sister, a lost Seeker, and a wayward mage. Josephine had made them into something worthy of respect and fear. Sure, their army was the best there was, their people were loyal, and their leader was chosen; but that meant nothing until Josephine had molded their images into the almighty Inquisition. She had put together their alliances, kept their important guests comfortable, used her mastery of the Game to garner funds and materials.

They had to get her back. Not just because she was their ambassador and they would be lost without her, but because she was their friend.

"Maker," he intoned, "my enemies are abundant," he paused and added his own verse; "Protect Josephine and the others, shine Your light upon them—blessed are the peacekeeper, the champions of the just—" he stopped and realized that the Maker could not help the inactive. He needed action, movement. So he got moving, the troops weren't going to drill themselves.

XXXX

Cullen had ordered the troops to move the camp further away from the village and their enemies. Skyhold was filled to capacity, but they still had two-thousand soldiers in the valley. He pulled them under the shadow the keep, well across the partially frozen river away from the Venatori. He oversaw the move personally; tents were taken down, wagons and brontos loaded, horse corrals taken apart and rebuilt. It was a furry of work, it wasn't much, but it felt like they were actually doing something.

By nightfall, the camp had been situated and the troops were settling down to supper. Cullen made his way back up to the keep and tracked down Leliana. She'd received word that Drummond and Merrill had been found, and were answering their call for help, but wouldn't make it to the keep until dawn.

There was no way around it; Cullen would have to get some rest. He stopped by the kitchen first and picked up a tray of supper, it was goat stew, which wasn't his favorite, but Belinda had poured him a big glass of apple brandy to wash it down with.

Cullen made his way up the steps to his tower office. It was nights like these that he wished there was a fireplace in the tower; a few nights ago he had a bronze brazier brought up too keep his chambers warm. What he really needed to do was fix the stupid hole in his roof; he'd been meaning to get to it for ages.

The guard on watch acknowledged him with a salute, Cullen wished him goodnight and opened the door to his office.

Something felt off. The hairs on the back of his neck rose up. He dropped the tray and unsheathed his sword before they struck. Four of them, Chantry Templars. Cullen battered a sword away and kicked the first one in the stomach, sending him flying into the desk. But that wasn't enough to stop him. The Templar jumped to his feet and the four charged him.

The tower space wasn't big enough for a full blow fight; Cullen had to weaken all his blows to keep from slamming his blade into the stone walls or his furniture. With his shield still upstairs, Cullen picked up a chair and battered away a Templar sword.

"Surrender, we don't mean to kill you, Commander!" one of the Templars ordered. But Cullen never would. He didn't know why they were attacking, or even if they were real Templars. It didn't matter, they were attacking—and Leliana could figure out who they were once they were dead.

"Commander, we mean you no harm; you're outnumbered—stop this and surrender." Another Templar demanded. Cullen met his suggestion with a hard punch, knocking the Templar back and to the floor.

He isn't wrong, Cullen thought. He was outnumbered. He needed help, he needed to get out the door and call for the Inquisition to aide him.

Using his makeshift shield, Cullen slammed into a body, raised his sword to block another attack and forced his way towards the door. He reached it, yanked it open, and found himself face to face with the guard on watch. Of course, he hadn't been an Inquisition soldier, Cullen realized before it was too late. The Templar smashed the pommel of his sword into Cullen's temple. The last thing Cullen thought was that only Delphine was stupid enough to stage a coup.

When he came too, his suspicion had been right. Delphine was standing with her Templars in the corner of a dark room. It looked like they'd captured the great hall; they had pushed the table up to the wall and seemed they were barricading the doors with chairs and one of the smaller tables.

"Maker be praised, are you alright, Commander?" He would recognize Belinda's voice anywhere. And if she was here, that meant Delphine had captured the kitchen.

"Is Sister Leliana here?"

"No, thank the Maker," Belinda answered.

Despite his throbbing headache, Cullen looked around the room and tried to gauge how many had been captured. There were a few soldiers, Cullen noted, the ones who had night watch near his tower. They had probably been taken first, then himself, then the kitchen staff. There were others too; a maid, and stable hand, one of Leliana's scouts, an Inquisition Templar, and a mage, beaten bloody and unconscious.

"Ser Terrek," Cullen whispered and the Templar looked up. She was loyal to the Inquisition, and had been since the beginning. Right now, she was checking over the mage, although her hands were tied behind her back. "Is he alright?"

"He's breathing," Terrek answered, and then said, almost proudly, "He put up a fight, I heard the commotion and came running. We were outnumbered."

Cullen nodded and looked over to where Delphine was conferring with her Templars. He couldn't get an accurate count. There were twelve down here with them. Delphine had come with an escort of ten Templars when she first arrived at Skyhold and Grand Cleric Mavis had come with an escort of nearly thirty. He had to assume that the Cleric's men had joined with Delphine.

"Delphine," Cullen growled and the Chantry shew looked over at him. "You've made a very big mistake."

Delphine laughed. "You're in no position to be making threats, Commander Cullen." Truthfully, Cullen wasn't particularly sure he believed this. It felt like some kind of bad joke.

"I hope you've captured Leliana," sometimes just saying the Spymaster's name was enough to put the fear of the Maker into someone.

She frowned and dismissed his statement, "We'll have her soon enough, the Maker is with us." Her Templars murmured their agreement, although Cullen could tell that some of them didn't have their hearts in it. "By your actions the Divine has been spirited away—your Inquisitor had kidnapped her—and now you've gotten the Grand Cleric captured. I can't tell if you're all just fools putting us on, or if you've been planning this."

Cullen felt like he'd stepped into some strange stage play. The ties around her wrists chaffed and his head hurt, his only hope was that Leliana was formulating a plan. Ah, Maker—this is a mess. Cullen sighed and scooched over to where Belinda was huddled with her kitchen staff. "Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"Yes, just a little rattled," Belinda answered, her hands were tied in front of her, so she reached up with the hem of her grease stained apron and wiped the blood from his temple. "They burst in on us, forced us in here right after you left with your supper."

Cullen sucked his teeth as she dabbed away the blood. When Belinda finished cleaning him up the best she could, Cullen looked around the room and hoped to find his sword. They'd been kind enough to leave him in his armor. Without use of his arms, Cullen felt rather useless. He decided the best thing he could do was listen, Leliana might be able to use any bit of gossip he could pick up.

The scout seemed to think the same thing. She was sitting quietly, cross-legged, and eyes closed. Her lip was bleeding, but she seemed peaceful…almost as if she had planned to be here…

Cullen took his eyes away from her and focused again on Delphine and her Templars. Delphine seemed very pleased with herself; she wore a smirk on her face like the same way some Orlesian noble who'd just won a gambit in the Game might. Cullen could only imagine that Delphine saw herself the hero of this little—coup, rebellion, foolish ploy—and had no idea what she was dealing with. She probably got in her head that she was going to rescue the Cleric herself and discredit the Inquisition. But, so long as they didn't have Leliana, they didn't have anything.

We really should have confined her to her room after we discovered the letter to the Cleric, Cullen thought, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Suddenly, Delphine was interrupted by a young, Templar archer and she went racing up the steps, several of her men followed after her. There was a commotion above, the stone muffled most of the noise, but it sounded like sword and shield clashing together. Cullen had to hope that Leliana was on the move.

"Pst, Commander," the scout hissed. "Don't look at me, nod once if you hear." Cullen did. "Good, Nightingale sends her regards—be ready,"

Cullen couldn't help but smirk. The scout forced herself to her feet. "Hey you," she roared at one of their guards. Then Cullen saw the knife in her hands and that she had cut her bonds. She showed him her hands.

Two of their six guards jumped up and started towards her, their swords drawn. The scout smirked and held the knife in a fighting position.

The other Templars stirred to action then, but they turned on their two fellow Templars. It was short and bloody. But when it was done the four Templars stood around the bodies of their fallen brethren and accepted coin from the scout. So Leliana had known and she had bought some of the Templars.

"Well done, yeah," the scout was saying. "The Inquisitor appreciates your service," The Templar's thanked her, counted their coin, and then stood off to the side as she freed the rest of the prisoners.

Still unsure of where his sword was, Cullen picked up one of the fallen Templar's swords and shield. Terrek picked up another sword and their soldiers made due with whatever they could find.

"Right then," Cullen sighed, head still pounding. "Inquisition, we put an end to this farce," he lead them up the stairs that only moments before, Delphine had run up. The stairs opened up into Josephine office, and the door to the throne room had been thrown open.

Cullen had expected fighting, but they were too late. The fighting was over. Delphine and her loyal Templars had been subdued. The hall was a mess though, the tables had been overturned and food was spilled on the floor, the nobles were gone—probably to their rooms where they would be safe—and one of the curtains was still smoldering where it had caught fire.

"Let me give you a lesson on the Game, Delphine," Leliana was saying from her set atop one of the tables. She was counting out gold pieces and ordering them into little stacks. "No matter how good you think you are at the Game, someone is always better than you," she took the first stack of coins and held them out to the first Templar. "Most soldiers can be bought, especially the young ones—ah Commander,"

"Leliana," Cullen nearly chuckled. "Am I to assume that you meant for me to be captured?"

"I needed her to think that she was winning for a time; that's why I didn't tell you. I knew she was going to attack, I didn't know when." She pressed coins into Templar hands and told them that the Inquisitor was thankful for their service.

"Does the Inquisitor know you've been bribing Templars?" Cullen asked.

"They've always been our Templars; Delphine just didn't know it," Leliana finished handing out coins and looked down at the Revered Mother. "And what to do with you?"

"Val Royeaux will know about this," Delphine's voice was shrill—she was afraid. And rightly so, even Cullen had a slightly healthy fear of Leliana. "The Divine will know!"

Cullen couldn't help but laugh, it was too pathetic to be threatening. The very idea that Cassandra would be upset with them for throwing Delphine in the dungeon was ridiculous. "Oh trust me, she'll know." He thought for a second that he should have been angry, but it would be a wasted effort. With Venatori camped outside the Keep, being angry at Delphine and her wayward Templars would have been a waste of his increasingly valuable time.

"And so will the Inquisitor," Leliana added. "A coup, in her castle—the Inquisitor is merciful, but I can only imagine how she might react when she hears that a Revered Mother led Templars in an attempted takeover, captured her commander, terrorized her servants, beat some of her people bloody…"

"The Chantry won't stand for this! I will informed the Revered Mothers at once,"

"That would require paper and ink, as well as birds and soldiers." Leliana explained. "Which you won't have." She made a motion with her hands and five of her scouts came forward to separate Delphine from her Templars. "Take her to her quarters, ransack the room and take everything—the Revered Mother has worn out her welcome."

"And the Templars?" Cullen asked. A noose would do them well and teach their friends a lesson, but they would need every soldier they could get.

"The dungeons, I think," Cullen had to agree, that was the best place for them.

When the hall was clear and the signs of battle cleaned up, Cullen sat down to a late supper. Leliana joined him. "Here," she said, placing a pale red potion in front of him. "For your head; it's from the Inquisitor's own stock."

"Thank you," he drank it quickly and felt the tingle of magic and healing herbs moments later. "I can't believe you foiled a coup,"

"Delphine is predictable, I knew she would try something so I made it clear the Inquisitor has a heavy purse and is grateful for honorable men and women," she smirked. "The information came quickly. I've had my people in place for days, just in case."

"Would have been nice to know," for some reason he felt better, he supposed it was because they'd dealt with one enemy already. Delphine had been against them since she'd first arrived in Skyhold. It felt good to know he didn't have to worry about her anymore.

Leliana shook her head and smiled. "It was short notice," then a sigh, "In any event, we should get some rest. I'll have you woken the moment the First Bow and Merrill arrive." Cullen nodded, finished his supper, and made his way back to his tower.

His office was a wreck, he would have to clean it up later, but someone had been kind enough to stoke the bronze brazier in the loft above. Cullen stripped out of his armor and tunic and slid between the sheets and furs of his bed. He was beginning to think that the potion Leliana had given him had been a sleeping draught when he finally fell asleep.

XXXX

The First Bow of Starkhaven had a black-eye and a hastily bandaged cut on her cheek. Her armor was scuffed and caked in mud, but she still greeted Cullen with a hearty handshake. Together, they stood outside the war room, waiting for Leliana and Merrill to arrive.

"Got to close to a bloke who wasn't dead," she explained when Cullen asked about her eye.

"Thanks you for your help,"

"No thanks needed, my Prince gave me orders. I'm following them."

"How are your men?"

"Not so hungry and cold since we picked off those mercs, took every useful scrap they had. The Archer Corps hasn't stepped out of Starkhaven in a long, long time, Commander—but we still know how to survive." She yawned and stretched. "It was a wee bit of a surprise when your people found us in the woods."

"Leliana's people are very good at what they do."

"Aye," she paused and he knew she was finally going to mention the bronto in the room. "How did this happen?"

Cullen wasn't really sure how it had happened. Foolish oversight? Willful naiveté? Prideful negligence? They had won every battle after their defeat at Haven. He had never dreamed that they might be attacked here. That someone would once again violate their home the way it had been violated at Haven. But then again, they hadn't marched in with an army. They had used tricks—the Inquisition's own good will against them.

"You know," Cullen began, slowly. "Before all this, I would have told you that no one could besiege Skyhold, that this valley was too well guarded, too well manned, for such a thing to happen. That only a fool would dream of striking at us here," he sighed. "But now I know, and now I have to fix." His head was still pounding from last night, but he couldn't stop the words that soon tumbled out of his mouth. "They used the Inquisitions own goodwill against us, charity, mercy—they twisted it. Took advantage of our kindness, of what makes the Inquisition what it is." It was beyond a violation of trust; it was simply…a violation. Cullen felt wrong. "Perhaps it's time to stop this, to stop—"

Leliana's voice echoed through the hall; "If we stop being what we are, then the Venatori have already won." Merrill padded quickly behind her. The elf looked a little worse-for-wear, but she was unhurt. "We are not our enemies, the Venatori who value pain and suffering, who would enslave anyone who dared turn against them. We are the Inquisition, champions of the just—in our blood, the Maker's will is written."

"Hawke once told me that goodness for its own sake is the best kind of goodness…or was it charity? Oh, I can never remember." Merrill shook her head and sighed. "She always gave sound advice, you know…in between the cursing. Sebastian was training that out of her though—I'm rambling, sorry. I mean, I'll stop."

"Have you heard the news then?" Cullen asked, pushing open war room door and ushering the others in.

"Hawke's been found? Yes, Sister Nightingale told me on the way here." Once they were situated around the war table, she clutched the wood and sighed. "Which it great, I'm happy—but—if this isn't too forward—we have a problem to deal with."

There was no arguing with that. Cullen surveyed the war table; the scale model of the village was still set up on the table. Leliana pointed to the Chantry of Our Lady's Herald. "My scouts say they're holding the hostages here,"

"How many?" Drummond asked.

Leliana shook her head. "Ambassador Montilyet, Grand Cleric Mavis, Revered Mother Giselle, Ser Brandon, any workers still inside the Chantry, villagers—we think they killed the escort soldiers we left,"

Cullen took the news with a heavy heart. Part of him had hoped that his soldiers had been taken captive like the rest. "What's your plan?"

"There's a cavern in the underground stables that leads into the Chantry—it was found by the men working in the chantry," she paused and then looked up at Cullen, her eyes sharp. "And yes, I believe this is the tunnel the Inquisitor used."

Cullen nodded; he had been searching for the answer to that question since he found the Inquisitor's chambers empty. But now it was nothing more than a consolation prize, he had other things to worry about.

"So we have a way in," Cullen said, assuring Leliana that he would not drag up any argument about escape tunnels.

Leliana nodded. "We call their leader, Aramis, although I am sure that isn't his real name. He is a magister; he has made the chantry their base of operations."

"Makes sense," Lady Moraven pointed to the front of the miniature chantry. "It's the most defensible position; from the summit you can see everything in the valley. It's a good place to put archers, especially along the outer courtyard and on the bridge."

"My plan is to use the tunnels under Skyhold to enter the Chantry and rescue the hostages. In order for my plan to work, we will need a distraction. That's what I need you three for," Leliana folded her hands. "You are our leaders and will have to make a show of inviting our friends to set their terms and negotiate."

"You want to draw out their leaders, take them unaware." Merrill smiled. "But are you sure you want..?"

"Yes, you're the leader of people under our protection you have every right to be involved in these proceedings." Cullen assured her. "What exactly are we going to offer them?"

"Nothing, by tomorrow morning they will have nothing to bargain with." Leliana smirked. "I just need you to keep their leaders distracted, I'll signal the moment we have the hostages safe."

Cullen sighed and wondered how best to get their enemy's attention. Soldiers under a white flag maybe? They would have to hold the negotiations on neutral ground. He would have his men set up a tent, offer food—he tried to channel Josephine. How would she set up negotiations?

The Inquisition must appear powerful, but approachable; cross us and we destroy you, befriend us and we aide you. He could practically hear her voice echoing in his mind. A pavilion with comfortable chairs, food, wine, officials standing around nervously. Argh, he hated it already. But he would do it.

"Are we agreed then?"

"I will oversee the rescue myself," Leliana added.

The First Bow nodded. "I agree; the Archer Corps is with you,"

"Yes," Merrill decided. "So long as you need me, I owe you the help,"

It was settled, they had their plan. Now they just needed their enemies to take the bait.

I intend to update next week on Friday as my beta and I will be engaged in Halloween based activities on Saturday.