Part II: The Lion
The Silence of Strangers
"You asked to see me, Commander?" The elven woman sat in the near empty library, close to the sweating stone chimney breast, Genitivi's Fade and Mysterious Spirits open on her lap. "Please, take a seat." She indicated the armchair with a wave of her hand.
Cullen had thought better than to summon her to his office though he outranked her since she'd been stripped of all titles by the Inquisition. Grand Enchanter she many no longer be, but Fiona still had steel in her gaze, a steadfast pride in her sharp features, an air of authority that could not be broken by mere words. He unbuckled his sword belt and sat with it across his knee.
For a time they stayed in the silence of two strangers, the hush of the library complete but for the flutterings and squawkings of birds in the tower high above. Fiona studied him, her hands steepled below her chin.
"I came seeking your expertise on a rather delicate matter," he said eventually. "May I have your word on discretion?"
"You may," she said, clearly intrigued. "What troubles you, child?"
He blinked. Couldn't remember the last time someone called him a child in a manner that wasn't derisive. Far from comforting him it made him starkly aware of this woman's experience.
"You were once a Grey Warden?" he asked to be polite for he knew well her story.
"I have that honour," she sighed, closed her book shut with a snap. "Dubious as it is."
"Perhaps, you could advise me," he said and before she could agree he continued, not wanting to lose his nerve. "I have been asked to conduct a report on the danger of a mage Warden experiencing the first signs of the Calling..."
Fiona interrupted him with a wry smile. "I know, child. She told me."
Cullen gripped the sheath of his greatsword, still across his knees. "She...Neria told you?"
"Oh, yes," Fiona shifted her weight to lean on the arm of her chair. "The Warden and I have...bonded over these last weeks."
"I see," Cullen's neck began to ache, he couldn't help but feel that this was some sort of trap, despite coming here of his own free will. "Then perhaps you would...share with me your feelings on the risk she poses."
"Perhaps," Fiona was still smiling and Cullen quickly looked back to his lap. "She is a remarkable woman, is she not?"
A familiar heat flared in Cullen's chest. Oh, Maker...not now. "Yes," was all he could force out.
"Then you will see that she is strong enough to withstand this...at least for a time," Fiona sighed. "I have tried to help her as much as possible with finding a cure. It will be no simple matter...and now there seems a deadline."
"If there's anything I can do," he said it without thinking.
"Oh, I think there might be," Fiona grinned and the flare in Cullen's chest rose to his cheeks, he coughed in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. When he finally recovered himself Fiona's smile had vanished. "Neria is a troubled woman, Commander. I believe what she needs most...is a friend."
"I..." he didn't know what to say. He wanted to protest, to say that she had a thousand people, a whole nation, a King, who loved and admired her, who would do anything for her. Why would she need him of all people?
"You are a rare man, Commander," Fiona said, as though reading his thoughts. " You care for your charges greatly. However much we protest the yoke of Chantry...Perhaps, and I do not say this lightly, a Templar that cares could be a benefit to a mage, though I have never seen it be the case."
"I'm not a Templar..." he muttered.
"You do not wear the armour or have the office," she shrugged. "That means little and less, I have found. In your heart, you are still a Templar. Why else would you be here, worrying about the danger of a mage?"
"It was an order..."
"Pfft," Fiona blew out her lips. "One you could have delegated..."
And hadn't he thought about it, but there was no-one else...not really. "Could you tell me what it's like? To hear the Calling...?"
"Have you ever experienced a sound that has no source. Commander? A buzzing, a ringing, perhaps?"
"Once," he gritted the teeth against the memory.
"Then imagine that being the most beautiful sound you have ever heard, a compelling terrible song that fades and crescendos in unknowable melody," her eyebrows drew together. "At first they try to fight it...but there is no respite. Sometimes it takes weeks, months, years but all will eventually succumb...whether to madness or to a death alone in the Deep Roads, it is not a happy end."
"But you...were saved such a death," Cullen couldn't help but mutter. "That means there is a way."
"It does," she sighed, an infinite sadness in her downcast eyes. "And I do not know it. What I would give to know..."
Anything, Neria had said among the frozen pines, pleading with him to understand the Warden's duty. But he has never contemplated their sacrifice. Should it hurt this much?
He was about to say more when a group of mages burst into library, laughing and bellowing until they spied Fiona and then quickly hushing each other in a gale of giggles.
"I should go," he stood, buckled his sword belt back around his waist. "Thank you, Grand Enchanter."
"Anytime, Commander."
