I honestly thought I'd seen it all.

I had believed, mistakenly so, that after thirty years of drawing breath, I had met every sort of person there is to meet; good and evil, treacherous and loyal, brilliant and ignorant.

But life seems to never be short of revelations to throw in one's way.

Blackwall...or I should say Rainier...a man we all trusted with our lives, a man who fought alongside us from the very beginning...

A liar.

A murderer.

And once, a coward.

I say once because I do not believe the latter applies to him any longer.

A coward would never give themselves up, not even after the passage of several years. Perhaps especially not then.

Yet, that is what Rainier came to Val Royeaux to do; to save his Second in Command from execution for a heinous crime Rainier had ordered him and the rest of his subordinates to commit.

Sitting here in the dungeons as I await Evelyn to finish talking to the man in private, I still cannot seem to wrap my head around it all.

"Zat man, Rainier...he was a member of the Inquisition, no?" the Orlesian prison guard asks me in a thick accent.

I look up at him, feeling slightly annoyed by the fact that I cannot read his face by virtue of the Orlesian mask-helmet hybrid he has on his head.

"He was," I reply. "But he did not serve under that name."

"Whose name, then?" the guard presses on.

I clench my jaw as the familiar name echoes in my mind.

"A Grey Warden named Blackwall," I tell him.

"Ah," the guard nods. "I see. And... you knew nothing of his crime?"

I look back at the guard and throw him a disgusted look.

"Of course not!" I snarl furiously. "What sort of idiotic question is that? Do you truly think the Inquisition would knowingly harbour a murderer in its midst?"

The guard quickly raises up his palms to convey his apology.

"Pardon me, Commander," he stammers. "Zat was...unworthy of me. I apologise."

I glare at him for a moment longer before nodding once and looking away. I focus my gaze on the closed door leading to the prison cells beyond, my chin resting on my knuckles and my feet tapping impatiently against the stone floor.

Finally, the door swings open, revealing a decidedly sullen and stern-faced Evelyn behind it. I immediately stand up and approach her, pulling out a scroll holder from my pocket as I do so.

"I have Leliana's report on Thom Rainier, Inquisitor," I inform her, pulling out the scroll from the silver container and handing it to her. "It arrived right after you left to interrogate Black—I mean, Rainier."

She takes the scroll from me and quickly scans it before rolling it back up again.

"He's informed me of everything I needed to know," she says as she hands back the report to me. "But thank you in any case, Commander."

Her crestfallen expression pains me, prompting me to step closer to her as I tuck the scroll holder back into my pocket, disregarding the prison guard closely observing us.

"Come on," I smile and nod towards the exit. "You need some air. Maker knows I do."

She sighs and follows me out of the dungeons and into the city square, where I am relieved to see that the incessant rainfall has finally ceased.

We stroll to the docks, and, while it would not do for me to hold her hand in public, I bring my hand close to enough to brush against hers, and she smiles up at me at the gesture. We both lean against the railings overlooking the sea and stare out at the distant water, sparkling brilliantly under the bright afternoon sun.

"Are you all right?" I ask her softly after a few moments of silence.

She exhales loudly and continues to stare ahead, her eyes troubled.

"I still can't believe it all," she responds. "I feel as though this is just a nightmare that I am yet to shake away."

The light breeze plays with her brown tresses, blowing them across her face. I quickly glance around at our surroundings, and when I see that the dock is otherwise deserted, I gently gather her hair between my fingers and throw it over her shoulder before leaning in to softly kiss her revealed neck.

"Don't blame yourself," I murmur gently and shift closer to her until our arms touch as they rest against the railings. "We all made this mistake."

She merely continues to stare ahead, but it does not escape my notice that she has discreetly shifted closer to me as well.

"I just don't know what to do," she confesses morosely.

"Black—Rainier has accepted his fate, but you don't have to," I inform her. "We have resources. If he is released to us, you may pass judgment on him yourself."

She turns away from the water and looks up to meet my gaze, her brown eyes speckled with golden amber under the glare of the sun.

"If it was up to you, what would happen?" she asks me.

I exhale and look out at the ships as I carefully consider my answer.

"What he did to the men under his command was unacceptable," I reply, my blood boiling with anger as my mind revisits the revelations of this morning's events. "He betrayed their trust, betrayed ours. I despise him for it."

I pause as more pleasant memories involving the man pass through my mind; memories of shared victories and losses. Moments of despair and joy.

I cannot discount such memories as though they are meaningless. And I would not presume to encourage Evelyn to do so.

"And yet he fought as a Warden," I continue. "Joined the Inquisition. Gave his blood for our cause. And the moment he shakes off his past, he turns around and owns up to it. Why?"

"Some part of you is impressed by what he did, isn't it?" Evelyn asks. I look down to see a small smile on her lips.

"Saving Mornay the way he did took courage, I'll give him that," I respond honestly. "But I can't tell you what to do."

"Why not?" she asks with a raised brow.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair.

"Because I honestly don't know the answer myself," I confess.

She gazes out head of her, lost deep in thought.

"Have Rainier released to us," she finally decides.

"At once," I nod without hesitation.

"I'll go and talk to Mornay in the meantime," she says, stepping away from the railings and turning her body to face me. "I'm interested in what he has to say about all of this."

"As am I," I murmur, feeling slightly distracted by the way her hair plays around in the breeze.

"I'll meet you here in half an hour or so," she informs me. "Then we can leave and properly deal with this mess in Skyhold."

I smile and step closer to her, tilting her chin up towards me.

"We'll sort this out," I promise her softly. "I know it must feel like the weight of the Inquisition is on your shoulders, but it doesn't have to be. The rest of the advisors and I are always there to assist. Myself in particular."

She smiles warmly, and I lean in closer to kiss her, not even bothering to assess our surroundings this time. After the ball at Halamshiral, our relationship is hardly a secret in any case.

We part ways and head in opposite directions. I promptly march back to the dungeons, quickly formulating the directions that I will be giving the prison guard in my mind.

The process does not take as long as I had anticipated. While the prison warden was quite reluctant to release Rainier at first, I managed to persuade him to agree to our proposal when I presented him with the various resources (namely, gold) that will be at the prison's disposal should Rainier be turned in to the Inquisition for judgment. That, and the weight of Evelyn's power and influence as Inquisitor, was more than enough to secure the arrangement.

"The prisoner will be transported to Skyhold under Orlesian guard, Commander," the warden stipulates. "That is our only request."

"I have no qualms with that," I nod before standing up and extending my hand across the warden's desk for a handshake. "Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Louis."

"The pleasure is mine, Commander," he nods. "The prisoner will be ready for transport within the hour."

I nod and thank the warden again before turning on my heels and departing the dungeon, eager to be rid of its congested atmosphere and stale air. Both are playing a major role in worsening my ever-present headache.

I pass by a few merchants on my way back to the dock, my eyes ignoring everything but for the armour and weapon display.

"Ah, Commander Cullen!" one of the merchants calls in a decidedly nasal voice out as I pass by. "Would you care to browse my wares, Monsieur? I have only the finest jewels and antique pieces in all of Southern Thedas!"

"No, thank you," I respond automatically.

"Are you sure?" the man presses on. "Is there nothing you wish to purchase for a special woman in your life?"

I pause and raise my brow at him, feeling certain that the man is smiling smugly somewhere beneath that mask.

"Come now, Commander, surely a woman special enough to catch your attention is worth a little gift, yes? Something to show her how much you value her?"

Damn it.

I grumble and roll my eyes at the merchant as I step into his extravagantly decorated shop.

"Oh, all right," I concede. "Show me your wares. But make it quick."


Here's the thing with Leliana.

Whenever you do not require her presence, she is there, ready and available.

Whenever you do require it, however, she is no where to be found.

I've never met a bard before. I wonder whether they are all as elusive as our Spymaster is.

"Dorian, have you seen Leliana lately?" I ask the mage when I descend into the library from the upper floor.

"I think I saw her go downstairs a while ago," Dorian looks up from the book he is reading in the little corner he set up for himself by a window. "I'm not certain where, though."

"I see," I reply, my mind already considering the next location to search. "Thank you, in any case."

"One moment," he sets down the book on his lap and sits up straight in his seat. "Solas!" he yells out in a booming voice that makes me jump. I hear the sound of something breaking downstairs, followed by a string of angry foreign phrases that can only be elven swear words.

"I thought I told you to stop doing that!" the elf yells back angrily.

Oh, Maker. Not this again.

"Doing what?" Dorian asks innocently.

"That! Yelling out like that so suddenly!"

"Oh," Dorian blinks. He shrugs and winks at me before carrying on. "My apologies!" he bellows. "I just wanted to ask you a question!"

More grumbling emanates from below.

"What is it?" Solas asks bitterly.

"Have you seen our fetching Spymaster lately?" the young mage shouts.

"Fenhedis, that is what all this is about?!" Solas exclaims with disbelief. "No! No, I haven't!"

"Well," Dorian grins at me, his teeth flashing brightly. "It was worth a try, wasn't it?"

I blink at him, my ears ringing from the aftermath of the shouting episode.

"Is it customary for people to yell at each other instead of talking in Tevinter?" I ask him.

"It depends," Dorian smiles.

"On?"

"On how far the other person is. And how inclined you are to approach them if they are at a distance. It does save a lot of time, however. We're all about saving time back home."

"Ah. I see. I'll just...be going, then. Thank you again, Dorian."

"My pleasure," he smiles and disappears behind his book again.

When I arrive at the ground level of the rotunda, I see Solas leaning over his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pours over a scroll. By his feet, I notice a heap of broken porcelain shards, the light blue colour telling me that it is the elf's tea cup; the shattered remnants of it, that is.

"I wouldn't stand so close to that if I were you, Solas," I advise him, my eyes lingering on his bare feet.

"Leave it," he responds dismissively without looking up from the scroll. "I'll take care of it later."

I glance at his feet one more time before striding onward to the main hall, heading straight for Josephine's office, my eyes scanning the hall for any sign of Leliana on the way.

When I arrive at the Ambassador's office, however, I see that she too is nowhere to be seen.

Odd.

Josephine is always scribbling away at something or the other at her desk.

Perhaps they-

Wait.

What was that?

I look straight ahead at the large double doors leading into the war room, my ears straining to hear the peculiar sound again.

I could have sworn that I heard something, or someone, rather, at the far end of the corridor.

Convinced that that is where I will find the elusive ladies, I stride towards the double doors and pull one of them open.

The sight that meets my eyes causes me to freeze before I even set foot into the spacious room, nearly dropping the report in my hand. I quickly recover and step in, shutting the door behind me before rushing over to where Leliana stood, holding a sobbing Josephine in her arms, while Evelyn, who I did not expect to find here, gently strokes the Ambassador's back with a pained expression on her face.

"What's happened?" I ask in alarm, setting aside my report on the war table. "What's wrong?"

Josephine pulls away from Leliana and looks up at me, her usually clear and bright grey eyes now swollen and bloodshot.

"Cullen," she sniffs, her voice strangled. "It's nothing. It's..."

She purses her lips, a fresh well of tears spilling down onto her cheeks.

"Josephine, please," Leliana begs, her blue eyes glimmering as tears threaten to well up in them too. "Don't do this to yourself, Josey. He isn't worth it!"

He?

I tear my gaze away from Josephine when she breaks into sobs again and turn to Evelyn instead, hoping for some sort of explanation. It takes a while for Evelyn to look away from Josephine and meet my gaze, her eyes filled with a hopelessness I have never seen in them before this moment.

"Josephine needs some time, Commander," Leliana informs me. I turn to look at her and notice her eyes flickering over to Evelyn, giving her a solitary and discreet nod.

"Of-of course," I reply, feeling increasingly concerned over the situation. I see Evelyn stepping towards me out of the corner of my eye and feel her snake her fingers around mine.

"Come on," she beckons me softly, nodding at the door.

My gaze lingers on Josephine for a moment longer before following Evelyn out of the war room, making sure to quietly shut the door behind us.

"Evelyn, what's-"

"Not here, Cullen," she cuts me off as we cross Josephine's office and emerge into the main hall. She keeps walking with me until we arrive at the entrance to the rotunda. "I'll explain everything in your office."

She lets go of my hand and moves to step away, but I quickly take hold of her hand again to stop her.

"Where are you going?" I ask her with bewilderment.

"There's someone I need to clarify a few things with," she replies quietly, mindful of the people filling the hall. "I'll explain it all later, I promise."

She steps closer and kisses me softly on my cheek before turning away and disappearing out the main hall and downstairs into the courtyard.

I stand there for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck in my baffled state.

"You look mighty confused there, Curly."

I turn to see Varric looking up at me from where he sat scribbling away on a roll of parchment.

"I certainly feel that way," I tell him before wheeling around and returning to my office.


Two hours.

Two maddeningly long and slow hours.

What in the Maker's name could possibly be taking her so long?

I tried occupying myself with my work, but the image of Josephine's tear-stricken face kept invading my thoughts.

Leliana mentioned a man who supposedly 'isn't worth it'.

Who could she possibly have meant?

I glance out through the slit behind my desk and glower when I see that the sky has darkened considerably since Evelyn promised to meet me here in my office. I set down my quill and rest my elbows on the desk, closing my eyes and massaging my temples with my fingers to soothe my dull headache.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me, and I pull open the topmost drawer of my desk and pick up a small, navy blue velvet box. Carefully, I open it and stare at the piece of jewelry housed within it, a small smile creeping across my lips. I move it around in my fingers, taken by the way the dim light of the candle hits the jewel, causing it to glint brightly.

I fumble with the box and almost drop it when my office door swings open.

"Evelyn!" I hastily snap it shut and stow it back in the drawer before standing up to greet her.

"Sorry for taking so long," she apologises as she shuts the door behind her. She looks quite worn, her hoarse voice echoing her exhaustion.

"That's all right," I smile and meet her halfway between the door and my desk. I eagerly take her in my arms and bury my face in her hair, closing my eyes and deeply breathing in her scent. I then lean back slightly to observe her face, cradling it in my hands.

"You look tired," I comment with concern.

"I feel tired," she replies.

"You should retire for the night, my love," I murmur and kiss her forehead. As curious as I was, Evelyn's comfort must always take precedence. My thirst for an explanation can wait.

"I want to spend the night here with you," she says, resting her head on my shoulder. "If you don't mind, that is."

"Mind?" I laugh at the ludicrous statement as I tighten my arms around her and pull her closer against me. "I'd love nothing more."

I kiss the top of her her head and blow out the candle on my desk before following Evelyn up to my bedchamber, suddenly feeling exhausted myself. We undress and slip into the bed, nestling close to each other under the pale moonlight creeping through the broken roof above us.

"I owe you an explanation," she murmurs quietly after a few silent moments. "I haven't forgotten about that."

"You don't have to do that," I smile and snake my fingers through her hair. "I can wait."

"No, I want to."

She shifts and readjusts herself, resting her head on my chest.

"I'm assuming you knew about the relationship between Josephine and Blackwall?" she asks.

"What?" I tilt my head down to stare at her.

She looks up at me and raises her head off my chest, propping herself on her elbow instead.

"Maker's breath, Cullen, are you really that clueless?" she asks in disbelief.

"About what?" I laugh at the look of absolute ridicule on her face.

She sighs and shakes her head at me with a smile.

"Josephine and Blackwall are—that is, were- involved with each other," she explains.

What?

"Involved?" I echo. "As in, romantically?"

"Yes, of course romantically, Cullen! What other kind of involved is there?" she replies impatiently.

"Oh," I sink back against my pillows and allow the information to sink in. "I had no idea."

"Clearly," she smirks. "Well, I should probably be a bit more forgiving. Perhaps 'involved' wasn't the right phrase to use. They weren't in an actual relationship like you and I are. It was more of a courtship. Delivering flowers and stolen glances, that sort of thing."

"Flowers? Really?" I raise an eyebrow. Blackwall, or Rainier, or whatever it is he desires to be called now that he is free and back in the Inquisition... he does not immediately strike me as a flowers sort of fellow.

"A fresh batch every week," Evelyn nods. "Leliana told us that, once a week, he slips out of Skyhold early in the morning and hikes up to the hills where they grow. Didn't you notice when they suddenly started appearing on Josephine's desk?"

"Uh... no. Not really," I confess.

She chuckles and slides her fingers across my chest.

"Of course you didn't," she smiles affectionately. "Your mind is too occupied with your work the entire time. Sometimes I wonder how you even have any time for me."

"I always have time for you," I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it.

She smiles, the blush on her cheeks evident even in the dim moonlight.

"In any case, that's the story," she continues. "His affection was not unrequited. Josephine harbours strong feelings for him as well. La splendeur des coeurs perdus, as she so aptly put it."

"I'm sorry, my Orlesian was never up to standard," I tell her wryly.

"Don't worry, I had no idea what it meant either," she says. "It means 'the splendour of lost hearts'. Something about two lovers who can only love from a distance and can never consummate their relationship. It's quite tragic, really."

"Well, why can't they consummate their love?" I ask in bewilderment. "Is it because of the entire mess that just transpired with Blackwall being Rainier?"

"No, she told me this before that ever came to light," Evelyn responds. "According to Josephine, it's more to do with the difference in their stations. I never believed that was enough of a reason to keep him at arm's distance, but now...well...we were all shaken by the revelation. I can only imagine the shock that overcame Josephine. Finding out that the man you love is a liar. And lying about his identity, no less."

She stares past my face for a few moments, her mind cast far away, before she blinks and focuses her gaze back on me.

"I'm assuming you went to speak to Blackwall earlier?" I ask.

"I did," she nods. "I needed to find out more about what happened between them."

"And?"

"It's just as Josephine said," she responds sadly. "A courtship. Nothing more. He never expected more."

"Will she be all right?" I ask. "She was utterly distraught earlier today. She wasn't even this upset after what happened at Haven."

"I know," Evelyn murmurs. "Seeing her like that today... it was hard. Incredibly so."

She rests her head back against my chest, a brief silence ensuing as she once again loses herself in deep thought.

"Cullen?"

"Hmm?"

She takes a moment before responding.

"If I was possessed by a demon... would you..."

Maker's breath.

I always feared she would ask me this. And I would be lying if I said that the question had never occurred to me. Maker knows how hard I've tried to force it out of my mind whenever it did invade my thoughts.

"Please," I implore her. "Don't ask me this."

"I...think I know the answer," she says in a quiet, solemn voice.

I place my index finger beneath her chin and tilt her face up to meet my gaze.

"I don't think you do," I tell her, my eyes intent on hers. "It's not that simple, and I...I would rather not think of it."

She stares up at me quietly with wide, dark eyes.

"I'm sorry," she finally says. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

She shifts and edges up until her head is resting beside mine on my pillow.

"There's no need to apologise," I murmur and stroke her cheekbone. "I just... the thought of having to face such a situation..."

"I know," she smiles before nestling her head beneath my chin. "I know."

I drape my arm around her and pull her close against me, planting a deep, long kiss on the crown of her head.

The most difficult questions in life often do not have an answer.

And that question is the most difficult one of all.


Note: for those of you who, like me, didn't know about the courtship that transpires between Josephine and Blackwall if you don't romance either of them (it's very easy to miss), just look up 'Josephine and Blackwall romance' on youtube and watch the video compilation by DanaDuchy. It's really sweet, actually! I just twisted it to make it tragic because...well... I tend to do that every now and then ;)