A/N: I had an epilogue planned, but I really like the way this ended, so I'll post that as a side story, since it's really not necessary for this. I'll also post any side stories that I come up with to that, so keep an eye out for The Lowlanders' Grand Game - Side Stories in the future. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy the end. :3

...-...

We meet again.

The voice was deep, endless.

Familiar.

Katrina felt oddly numb, as though most of her was missing, like she was floating in water or just… emptiness.

Emptiness that had a sky made of greens and grays, dismal and other-worldly. There was a foreign beauty to it, though she didn't like how clear it was. Something about that clarity felt wrong.

She stared up at the sky, debating whether or not she ought to fault it for that growing feeling of unease. She frowned when she could see a darkly outlined city hanging up in the nothingness overhead. It looked as though it had been torn from the ground ages ago and hung up where the moons should have been, a grim reminder of…something.

She couldn't remember what.

Memories were hazy, and yet this place was clear.

That wasn't right.

It should have been the other way around.

And it was most certainly that off-colored sky's fault.

It was taunting her from where it spanned across eternity, with its infinite space and penchant for allowing the impossible to be real.

Wanting to fill her vision with anything but that hideous sky, Katrina turned her head, quite surprised to find a knight seated in the emptiness beside her, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees as he patiently waited for her to respond.

What was it he'd said? Meeting before?

Images of her in a forest of identical trees burst to life around them and slowly the conversation came back to her. He'd watched her memories—memories she couldn't remember—and seen the path that had led her out to that snowy hell in the mountains.

No, not hell.

There'd been something important out there.

Some…one?

It was hard to think, and the world around her seemed to beg her not to, to just let go and drift away. Even as she felt a strange tug into that nothingness, the knight cleared his throat, recapturing her attention.

When she looked at him, it took her a few beats before she could remember what had been coming back to her. She'd been in the mountains—what were mountains even?

The words tumbling in her head meant so little…

The emptiness around them receded as hazy images of towering landscapes filled that void, trees and rocks and brush dotting and twisting in ways that made her certain something was amiss. These trees and rocks weren't quite right.

A beast lay out in one, its golden eyes oddly concrete in this shifting space, more real that perhaps even she was. It watched her with an unblinking gaze, tail swishing down behind the branch it was perched on as it watched her.

Waiting.

For what? For her?

I was surprised Asmund took such little persuading to accept you into his hold, into his protection.

The knight spoke simply, as though he and the beast in the tree had known one another for a long time.

No, not a beast. Well, not in the manner she'd been thinking.

He was a hold-beast. A lion.

And his gaze wasn't on her.

Two hazy figures stood a little ways away from them—how she could see them while she lay there, she couldn't say…it felt like the angles should have been off. She could just barely make out pointed ears and white hair on one. The other was a bigger man, with a streak of red across his face. As she looked at him, his lips moved silently.

You're welcome.

Katrina tried to remember why those two would be important. There had been something going on, something with someone very dear to her…

For an instant, she felt as though she were being held, safe and sound in strong arms.

Cullen…

The memory came into perfect focus for a second, with Cullen standing beside her with his brother and Cassandra, holding onto Katrina to keep her from going after Garrett with another brindleseed.

As quickly as it came, it faded, though Katrina desperately clung to what little she could remember. Looking back at the lion, she felt a little steadier. The hold-beast had the same eyes as Cullen.

Asmund had left the tree as it faded out of existence and paced over to them, coming to sit on his haunches beside the knight.

Katrina tried to look around for Cullen as well and felt like turning her head made her see less of the world. How that even began to make sense was beyond her.

She somehow couldn't be bothered by it though. Some little part of her whispered that that was as it should be.

That might have been as it should be, but Cullen being missing wasn't. He'd promised, hadn't he?

Another memory swept around them.

More trees and a cliff.

Again she felt safe, wrapped in muscular arms.

"And just when did I break my word?" The words echoed around her, and she was surprised at how guilty she felt. Of course he wouldn't have broken his promise to help her, to be there for her.

He loved her.

And she loved him.

Yet again, the world around them shifted, to a small dark room that blocked out that horrid, Black City, and its absent Maker.

Instead, she was wrapped up in furs, cuddled close to Cullen, watching him sleep after a rather particularly fun evening. She loved watching him like that. All the worries melted away from his face, and he looked almost boyish, as though the world had never crushed too much down upon his broad shoulders.

She reached out to touch his cheek and frowned when the memory disappeared.

Where was he?

For him not to be here with her now… He hadn't been hurt, had he?

He is fine.

The knight and lion were watching her still.

"You'd best hope he is, or I may not be liable for my actions," she finally whispered back, having found her voice. When he laughed—even Asmund seemed to allow a certain mirth to settle over his feline features—she allowed herself a faint smile, a little surprised that the muscles moved at all.

That anything here obeyed her at all was…miraculous.

Will is everything here. So tell me, what is yours?

She inspected his glimmering armor. He was translucent—she wasn't sure how she knew when there wasn't anything behind him to see—and she recognized the way his eyes glowed, peering at her through the thin slit in his helm. "You are very bright."

As are you.

His voice echoed all around them, though it held a weight to it that ground it. Grounded her.

With a frown, she eyed him. "That is certainly not something I've been accused of being before."

Do you remember our first conversation?

Katrina reached up, rubbing at the scar on her head. "You called me a fool and then had me play the part." When both he and Asmund cocked their heads, she motioned toward him. "You gave me a chance to fix a wrong that needn't be fixed. Amelia didn't need saving at all."

And you found your way to the injustice I wanted you to mend.

"And yet that might go unfulfilled, too. If it is fixed, it won't be by my hands." Katrina frowned, rubbing her head again, and then noting that her other arm hurt too much to move. The numbness was gone, at least.

It abruptly dawned on her that the last time she'd been here, she'd been dying.

And it hadn't been this clear.

Asmund rose to his feet and plodded the short distance to her, sniffing her once and then licking her scar before turning and simply fading out of existence.

Heading back to his hold, perhaps.

Or wherever else he was needed.

Taking in a ragged breath, she let her right hand fall back to her side. "I guess in the end you were right. My words weren't enough to start any fires."

It depends on the kind of fire you're looking for. The knight replied, echoing words she could remember proclaiming what felt like a lifetime ago. Though she couldn't see his lips, she was certain that he was smiling. You have done more than I expected of you.

"You must not have expected much, then," Katrina muttered. Even as she spoke, the knight let out a faint laugh and reached his hand out, pressing his palm against her shoulder. Pain blazed through her, and she cried out.

The world around them writhed to life, white spires of pain creating a snowy expanse that roiled upon itself, disinterested in the cold it should have been and instead boiling itself into a frenzy that wouldn't die down.

It felt like an eternity before it began to ebb and calm. With it receded the pain, away from her chest and elbow first, drawing back toward the knight's touch.

You are right. I did not. Compassion had faith in you, though, and it was well placed.

Compassion…

For a tick, Katrina was lost, but then, quite abruptly, an image of a boy she knew well bubbled forth, as though he were sitting beside her. However, the stillness of the illusion gave it away for what it was.

She focused on the face she'd made herself remember over the last few months, rather than the pain in her.

Cole.

"Where is he?" Katrina tried to sit up, but the knight's grip on her shoulder held her in place. "We lost track of him in the fighting."

There is much for him to do in the world, Orlais in particular. I doubt you will see him again.

"Do you think he'll help Briala?"

He already does.

Narrowing her eyes, Katrina puzzled over his words.

Dreams do not move the same as your time, the knight explained, finally lifting his hand from her shoulder. She tested her arm, lifting it and finding nothing out of order. It is time for you to move on.

"Move on from what, exactly?" Katrina frowned. "Where are we?"

Even if I told you, you wouldn't remember.

"Well that's an excuse if I ever heard one," she mumbled, pushing herself up. There was ground beneath them, as it should be. It was odd and wrong, but it didn't know how to be right here.

Here, where it could only echo what the real ground looked like.

In the Fade.

As she looked back at the spirit or God or whatever it was beside her, eyes wide, he nodded to her.

Safe travels, Katrina.

The knight abruptly shone brighter until his light overtook everything else in that oddly twisting world, and she had to close her eyes against that ethereal illumination.

…-…

Cullen lay beside Katrina, his body curled as close to her as he could manage, one hand resting against the side of her neck, his thumb occasionally moving to stroke her fevered skin. Amelia was working with one of the others on the ship—one of the pirates—to try to mix together some new concoction that might help stem the poison's reach.

He had offered what little he knew of Avvar antidotes, as had Morrigan, but even with Zevran's ample knowledge of all poisons, they had barely been able to stave off the effects as it spread through her. Isabela had made the mistake of pointing out that even if Katrina recovered, she was likely to suffer permanent damage of some kind—like the loss of mobility of her arm.

Amelia was barely talking to anyone thanks to that.

How was it that all he could do was wait when the one he loved most was lying beside him dying? To wait and pray and hope that the Gods could hear his pleas as far from the mountains as he was. He had led raids, fended off attack after attack, run a damned hold for three years, and here he was as useless as a babe.

Worse than that, he couldn't handle the sea. He could barely breathe below deck, the tight confines of the space making him feel like a mountain was crushing down upon him, and the constant rocking of the boat made it nearly impossible to keep anything down.

And yet…

He hadn't been able to stay on deck very long, either. He couldn't abandon Katrina. Even if there was nothing he could do, he couldn't leave her.

He felt like they'd gone back to when they'd first met, to watching that nameless Lowlands Lady fight for her life against insurmountable odds. She'd won that fight, hadn't she? Perhaps she could win this one…

Except this time was different. It wasn't some fiery spirited stranger lying there, but his lover, his Katrina.

Every day he prayed…

Sometimes it seemed like it was working. After all, a few of the crew had mentioned—the few times he'd been in earshot, anyway—that it was odd she'd lasted as long as she had. There had to be some credence in that.

Katrina had pulled through worse, through frostbite and concussions, broken bones and—

Abruptly, her body went rigid, and a hiss of pain slithered its way from her teeth. Cullen was up in a breath, holding her as she tensed like she might seize up.

"Katrina?" He cried out, his gut twisting into knots.

She cried out again, stiffening further. Lady's mercy, but she seemed like her limbs might snap backwards. Cullen was at a loss, trying to wrap his arms around her in a way that would prevent any damage, not sure if he should even be doing that much.

Then, abruptly, the tension fled from her body. She slumped back against the bed. That terrified him more than the seizure. "Katrina!" She was limp, her chest rising slower and slower. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her to him, cradling her head against his shoulder. "Please don't die."

Her breathing quieted, her body grew still.

Cullen's world stopped, suspended in the moment, refusing to accept what was happening as reality.

He'd never expected himself to be in some great, epic tale of love that lasted the ages—the Avvar knew that things changed, that expectations of such permanence were unreasonable—and yet…he hadn't thought it would end like this, either.

This couldn't be…

Lady, not yet…

With an abrupt gasp, Katrina's whole body trembled. Cullen loosened his grip on her enough to peer down and see that her hazel eyes were wide open. Her hands shook as she lifted them, her breaths coming in short, quick gasps.

Cullen's jaw hung slack, not sure what to do, what to say.

Whatever disorientation had come with her waking subsided as she looked up at him, blinking a few times before she really seemed to see him. "Cullen?"

Her voice was barely a croak.

Barely a croak and somehow it was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

He leaned his head down, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed. "How do you do that?"

When she spoke again, her voice was groggy, but stronger. "Do what?"

"Not die."

"I…" she trailed off, brow pinching together. "I feel like there is a good answer for you, but I can't…quite remember." Her hands reached up for him, shaky fingers pressing against his bare chest—since they'd been on the boat, Cullen had forgone all but the necessities for common decency, as the heat was nigh unbearable. Katrina's hands worked their way slowly across his skin, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer. He moved willingly under her touch. "I think someone was watching over me?"

Cullen laughed faintly, forehead still pressed to hers. "That or you're just too stubborn to die."

"Hey!" She teasingly dug her nails into him, though her grip still felt weak.

He pulled away from her a little, opening his eyes and looking down to see that, though she was still pale enough to make her freckles considerably more prominent than they ought to be, she was really, truly breathing, in his arms.

He didn't realize that he was crying until one of his tears fell down against her cheek. As he wiped it away with his thumb, she leaned up toward him. "None of that…it's alright."

He let out a strangled laugh as he dropped his head back down to hers, holding her tightly.

It would be alright.

Katrina was still his.

She tilted her head so that her lips brushed his, and he eagerly met her, his mouth molding against hers. A desperation filled him, and he deepened their kiss, half afraid that this was some dream that he would wake from. He would open his eyes and find her lying lifeless beside him.

Her hands slid up his bare chest and around his neck, pulling him out of his fears. As he resentfully broke their kiss for breath, her fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in his curly locks and dragging him back down to her lips as soon as he'd managed a few gulps of air.

He shifted until he was on top of her, his fingers searching for the hem of her shirt. She helped him tug it over her head. As he fumbled with the ties on his pants, she pressed kisses against his chest, her fingers sliding down his body and over his pants, gripping him through the cloth. He groaned, nearly losing his hold on the ties. He jerked them hastily, kicking out of his pants and smallclothes.

He cursed quietly as he realized she was still wearing hers when he rutted against her. One of her hands wrapped around him squeezing lightly before she let go, trailing her nails gently along his length. He swore as pleasure shot through him, his head resting in the crook of her neck.

When she wrapped her hand around him again, he gasped. Cullen lifted his head so that he could press a hot, open mouthed kiss against her throat. She let out a soft cry at that, and he smiled against her skin, following his first kiss with dozens more.

It had been far too long since he'd felt her touch like this.

Far too long since her bare skin had pressed against his, since he'd been inside of her, one with her.

He could feel that he was already close to release, and he lightly caught her wrist, whispering, "Wait."

She let go of him, turning her head to kiss his ear. He waited a moment to catch his breath before his hands slid down her smooth skin to her hips. When his fingertips reached the hem of her pants, he let them trail along the edge of the cloth, smiling as he listened to the way her breathing caught in her throat whenever his touch crossed over one of her more sensitive spots.

He wasn't sure how he undid her ties so smoothly, but with another motion, he was pulling her pants down, along with her smallclothes. When she'd wriggled out of them fully, he trailed his hand back up her leg, along her inner thigh. She shivered in anticipation, though he only let his fingers brush near where she wanted him.

"Cullen…" she pleaded, catching his face with her hands and drawing his lips to hers. She whispered his name again against his lips.

Despite any plans to draw out their first time in what felt to have been forever, he could hardly keep his lady waiting. She was already ready for him, and so he rolled over, tugging her into his lap. She settled over him, sheathing him inside of her as she gasped and kissed and nipped his lips.

He held her to him, nearly overcome again with the simple fact that they were together, that through everything that had happened, she was here, with him, his.

And he was hers.

She rocked her hips, moving him inside of her, her breasts pressed against him as he held her close.

He met her movements with sharp thrusts, harder than usual, and her nails dug into his shoulders as she cried out her approval.

Finally, the came together, her body clenching around him and bringing him blissful release.

She laughed as she slumped against him, head resting on his shoulder, breath coming in quick gasps.

Turning his head, he kissed her temple. As she looked up at him, he pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then another. He stilled after that, content to feel her heartbeat against his. "You know that I love you, don't you?"

"I love you, too," she whispered, snuggling up against him.

…-…

Rosalie rocked from heel to toe beside Cullen as he leaned against a post on Kirkwall's docks, relishing the simple fact that he was no longer on a boat. They were going to have to go back out to see to get to Ferelden—Isabela had offered to drop them off in Highever, which was the closest port city to the mountains, outside of Orlais.

Everyone was more than willing for a few extra weeks of travel if it meant not having to ever set foot in Orlais again.

Everyone.

Cullen shook his head, finally glancing around them and hating the way the water refused to stop moving. He'd take a crystalline pond over this excess any day. The Lowlands really did keep too much of everything at hand.

Zevran trotted up, a few bags slung over his shoulders. He looked at Rosalie and then to Cullen, extending his hand. When Cullen slowly took it, he grinned. "It has been a pleasure to work with you, dear thane. I hope fortune smiles upon you and Katrina in the future."

"You are welcome to come with us," Cullen offered as the elf finally withdrew his hand. "I know there are people after you."

"They would find their way to me no matter where I rest, if they truly wish for my head. I am thinking perhaps I will get to them first." Zevran's smile was brilliant as he shrugged. "I doubt they will see me coming, anyway. At least not the first dozen or so."

"Lady watch over you," Cullen murmured, unsure what else to say to that.

"Between my luck and skill, I need so such guidance, though any additional help is welcomed, of course." With a flourished bow, Zevran trotted back onto the ship and said a few quiet words to Katrina. Considering some of the stories he'd heard, Cullen wasn't sure he'd have believed the elf, even if he had believed in 'luck'.

Even as Cullen shook his head, Rosalie hugged him. "I'm going with Zevran."

Cullen stopped, arms half encircling his little sister. "What?"

"We work well together," Rosalie said, stepping back from him. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "And I love him. And I love the Lowlands. Maybe mother can see some of it while she watches over me."

At first, words would not come. Part of him wanted to reject the idea, but then, what would he do? Demand she return to the mountains to be stolen properly by some other Avvar? She was happy with Zevran, and that mattered more than the traditions they were already flouting.

Taking in a deep breath, Cullen nodded slowly. "Stay sharp. Don't let the frivolities down here go to your head."

"I'll try not to," she offered. Thumping her fist against her chest in a salute, she nodded to him. "Lady watch over you."

Cullen started to salute her back, and instead pulled her in to a tight hug. "May the Gods keep you safe. Don't forget them. We know that they watch more than just the mountains. They'll look after those who respect them."

"I will." Rosalie hugged him again. "Maybe we'll see each other again someday."

"If not, I'll see you when we reach the sky." Cullen nodded upward.

Her lips quirked into a small smile when she nodded back.

As she turned, Zevran stepped off the plank onto the docks, Katrina in tow. Rosalie hugged her briefly, and then she and Zevran laced their fingers together and began to make their way into the city.

Even as Katrina and Cullen watched the two of them depart, Isabela darted over and hit the deck's rail. "We'll be leaving in half an hour, so don't go wandering off. And if you're not on the ship when it's time to leave, you're getting left behind. Kirkwall is bad luck for anyone who stays here too long."

Cullen coughed into his hand as Katrina laughed and thanked Isabela for the warning as Amelia walked over to see what was going on. With a laugh, the pirate captain shrugged. "Just letting you know. Wouldn't want to see the two of you swimming after the ship, after all. That's Amelia's job."

Amelia lightly thwacked Isabela on the arm, though the pirate merely gave her a wide grin before turning back to her deck. Isabela strode away, issuing orders to prepare the ship.

Taking in a deep breath, Katrina looked up at Cullen, looping an arm around Cullen's and leaning into him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Are you ready to go home?"

He hesitated, watching the small boats move across the sea in the distance, feeling that heat beating down on them, and thinking about everything that had led them there. They'd fought their way through so much, seen and done so much. It felt odd to just go back to the mountains straight away, back to such a simple life. "Actually, I thought we might take our time. I'd like to see more of your world before we go back to mine."

"You just don't want to get back on the ship," Katrina teased, leaning into him playfully.

"I really don't, but at the same time…" Cullen's voice trailed off as his gaze swept back inland. "There's a lot here to see."

"Well," Katrina tilted her head, considering what he'd said. "The hottest months are finally behind us. So I suppose, if you want to explore the north, this would be the time to do it. It will still be hot to you, though." When Cullen didn't seem deterred, she smiled. "You can stay here. I'll get our things off the boat and say goodbye to Amelia and the others. Morrigan will probably be heartbroken that we won't be traveling together through Ferelden."

"Oh, I'm sure." Cullen grinned as Katrina loosened her grip on him and then let go, trotted up the plank leading to the ship as though it wasn't some teetering monstrosity, ready to drown all aboard with a single good sized wave.

Perhaps he was making this decision based more on his dislike for water…

He glanced toward the city again, frowning as he realized he could see smoke billowing up from a few different points in town.

Katrina was right. The city was always on fire.

This would be…an adventure.

…-…

Katrina watched from the ship's deck as Cullen shouldered the pack she'd tossed down to him, eager to be back on dry land—even if it was Kirkwall of all places. Amelia stood next to her, a critical expression in place. "I guess this is it, then."

"I can't believe you never told me you became a pirate," Katrina replied, shaking her head slowly. "You know, that's a hang-able offense."

"I'm not worried about it," Amelia replied before slipping an arm around her sister's shoulders. "You're the one who told me to live a little."

"I didn't think you'd become a pirate."

"And what of you? Going off with that…idiot."

"Cullen is quite brilliant."

"You were on your deathbed for a week and his response to you waking up was to take you right that second, no regard for how frail you should have been."

"I enjoyed it," Katrina retorted, unable to conceal the smirk that crossed her face. They'd barely settled against one another when Amelia had rushed in, having heard noises and fearing that the worst had happened. She'd just about strangled Cullen when she realized what had actually transpired.

"Still an idiot."

With that, Katrina scoffed. "Still not a pirate."

"This excursion of his into the 'Lowlands' won't last. By this time next year, he'll have you leading your own raids against travelers, stealing their belongings."

Trying not to laugh, Katrina shrugged. "Well, if someone can't keep their own things safe, they don't really deserve them."

"Now who sounds like a pirate."

"But you are one," Katrina objected, looking at Amelia, critically. "What would Gregory say?"

"I don't give a damn what he'd say," Amelia shrugged, smiling slightly. Her smile slipped as she looked back at Cullen. He was watching them, almost as though he feared Katrina might stay on the ship and sail off into the sunset without him.

"He's a good man."

"He stole my little sister from me."

"Oh, he'll be thrilled you said that," Katrina perked up. When she noticed Amelia looked annoyed, she rolled her eyes. "You know he's good."

"And a good fighter and ridiculously loyal, and he loves you." Amelia shook her head. "And I won't be able to beat him senseless if he ever hurts you."

"He won't."

"He'd better not," Amelia declared, standing a little straighter. "I don't care if you do settle in a different part of the mountains. I found you last time, I'll find you again. And I'll make him or anyone else pay for hurting my little sister."

"Send word if any of the other pirates are mean to you," Katrina offered, taking a step toward the plank leading down to the docks. "I'll come ruin them for you."

Tears beaded on Amelia's eye lashes as she shook her head. "You stay safe. No more playing with Orlesians. They're awful people."

"They are." Katrina thought better of it and stepped back to hug Amelia. "And you. Try to steal from Orlesians more than Marchers, alright?"

"Of course."

"I love you, Ams."

"Love you, too, Kat."

And with that, Katrina started down the plank to Cullen, and whatever else might await them in this wide, winding world.