From Inquisitor Trevelyan's personal journal:

Cullen shook me awake at an early hour this morning. For a moment, I felt a bit disoriented, then I remembered I'd come looking for him to discuss the Templar hunters' information. Instead of lurking downstairs, I'd come up to his bed with a book to wait for him to return.

I suppose he'd been up working all night, but for someone who had evidently not slept that evening, he looked positively energetic. He had a sheaf of papers in his hand, which he was flipping through as I sat up.

"Inquisitor!" he said in his Commander-of-the-Inquisition voice. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and tried my best to look alert.

He stood up from the bed and began to pace excitedly.

"We tracked Samson's remaining Red Templars escorting a supply caravan to a hidden location in the wilderness in northern Orlais. It could be his headquarters; I expect verification within the hour, but it matches up with the information we were given by the Initiate your Templars brought with them. I've already begun preparing a squadron of soldiers to accompany us."

He cleared his throat. He appeared to be making a concerted effort to not look directly at me.

"I thought that I might…awaken you so that we could…depart if the information is good. If your duties permit."

"Yes," I said, standing up. "Right. Excellent work, Commander." He looked as if he were to about begin bouncing up and down on his toes.

"Thank you, Inquisitor."

"I'll have the rest of the party notified, and meet you back here, then." I said, then gestured at the bed. "Sorry about…that."

He nodded, and began to sort through his papers again. He hadn't met my eyes once.

I left him there, making my way down the ladder and back to the main hall, where I sent out runners to assemble my party and gave orders for my equipment to be packed and prepared. The Inquisition was up and moving.

Something was wrong. Why wouldn't he look at me?

I focused on my preparations, then returned to his office to check back in and report on my progress. He was pacing excitedly.

"Commander. What have you found?"

"We have him, Inquisitor! We've found Samson's lair. My duties usually keep me here, but for Samson?" He snarled, "I'll make an exception."

I frowned, surprised he was going to accompany us. "Samson still has that red lyrium armor."

"All the more reason for me to go." His voice was suddenly tender, and he took my hand. "I would…sleep better, if I knew I would be at your side."

"I'm not sure…" I said. I'd never traveled with him on a mission like this, but…it was obviously very important to him. "Very well," I began, as a runner entered.

Cullen dropped my hand like it had burnt him when the door opened, then hurried to sort through a stack of documents to hand some to the messenger.

He was his normal imperious self, then, nodding at me.

"We'll depart at your leave."

He was coming along on the mission. A distraction.

He hadn't wanted to look at me when I was in his bed.

He was...back to not touching me publicly again.

I don't know if I made the right decision for Cole.

The Templar hunters were here.

I found myself out in the courtyard. I don't know how I got there.

I had to make it work, could not focus on him. There was too much to do, too many people depending on me. Had I erred, pushed things with him too fast, and encroached on his person and his space? I love him, but once again, I am reminded that I do not know the steps to this dance.

I pressed my hand to my head—I needed time to think and I didn't have it. Doesn't matter now; all that matters is the mission. Temporary solution: wait, gather information. Observe what he wants based on his actions, not his words. At undetermined point in the future, analyze findings and see if…

If he actually loves me? If I can actually tolerate this? Doesn't matter. Assess the information later.

Fine, done, now move.

I was back in motion, heading up the long stairs to the great hall, when I heard someone calling my name from across the courtyard.

"Encha—Inquisitor!" I turned, and it was Knight-Captain Liam. He hurried towards me, and I paused.

He looked like he'd aged a decade in the year or so since we'd parted, but the life of a former Templar can't have been easier than the life of a mage after we'd both left the Circle. He was also not a person I wanted to see at that moment.

"Knight-Captain, I'm sorry," I began, "but I must—"

"I know," he said "you're off to hunt those things down. You still got that knife I gave you?"

"Always, Knight-Captain," I said, suddenly a bit overwhelmed now that I'd stopped moving. "And now I have the sword, too, like you always said I would." I felt like weeping, for a thousand reasons, and for no reason at all.

"Good," he beamed, "I'm proud of you. I want to see it when you get back." He handed me a thick letter. "This is for you. Ella helped me write it down; she's a good girl. Let me look at you."

He gripped my upper arms and stepped back. I was dressed in my traveling robes, holding my staff. Had to go, no time.

"You're upset about something, going in circles. I remember that look. You can't go out into the field like that. What did I teach you?" he asked gently, gentler than the hundred times he'd ever asked before.

I exhaled. Breathe, remember who you are. Remember what you are.

"I am not a woman, I am a mage," repeated, taking a deep breath, falling back into rhythms of the past, the calm coming over me again. "I am a weapon. I am fire. I am the sharp edge of a blade."

My heart slowed. When had it started beating so fast? The panic was gone.

He squeezed my arms, then said something he'd never said before: "You are magnificent. I hope you knew that, Evelyn."

I grabbed his arms, and did something I'd never done before: kissed him right beside his big bristly moustache.

"I did know that," I said, "but for a moment, I'd forgotten. Thank you, Liam." I turned and made my way up the stairs to meet my party. The Inquisitor was ready to depart for Orlais.

A letter from Seeker Pentaghast to Sister Leliana:

Leliana:

The trip north goes well, and we are making good progress through Orlais now that spring has truly arrived. The mixed squadron of soldiers appears to be well-trained, although the Inquisitor has been spending much of her time drilling smaller units of mages and Templars with advanced techniques on how to engage with Red Templars.

She has acknowledged to me privately that she hopes our troops will not be forced to fight the Red Templars on this journey, but we both agree that experienced units may make all the difference if a larger confrontation with Corypheus ensues in the future.

It is helpful to have experienced the sickness that their presence sometimes brings, whether it be from exposure to lyrium or simple disgust. Some of the creatures we fought at Emprise du Lion had passed nearly beyond recognition as humans, their bodies jutting with lethal spikes of the red crystals.

Since you have asked three times, and finally provided an honest excuse ("I am nosy" is much more persuasive than "Josephine needs to answer some of the Commander's admirers" or "Michel de Chevin was asking me," just so you are aware), I will tell you that the Inquisitor and the Commander are behaving very professionally on this journey.

Varric has been keeping an eagle eye on them both. I heard him mournfully telling Dorian that the pair had not surreptitiously crept into each other's tents once during the entire trip. I took this opportunity to tell him that perhaps he needed to find a new hobby, so he has commenced attempting to play "I Spy" with me whenever he can. It is highly annoying.

Two days ago, Cullen began to develop an obvious headache while we were traveling. He was terse and irritable. That afternoon, the Inquisitor rode up to speak to him, and returned with a frown. She told me she'd suggested we break early for the day, but he'd refused, so we traveled until late afternoon, when we stopped to set up camp. After his duties were finished, he joined us at our campfire, although he sat rather far away, with his back half to the fire, squinting at the light.

I was talking with Vivienne at the time, as she has been constantly harassing me about the attributes necessary for the future Divine. While she seems to be pushing me in this direction, I cannot help but notice that everything she desires for the next Most Holy also happens to coincide with skills she possesses. She has not listed "wears a large hat" yet but if she does, Leliana, I am going to punch her, I swear to the Maker.

As always, the Inquisitor had been gathering herbs all day, and began to mix Cullen some tea. She ground several bunches of greenery in her small mortar, placed the resulting paste and some water into a mug, and heated the entire container to boiling by swirling it with her finger. After the herbs steeped for a few minutes, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled, and brought it over to Cullen.

"For your head," she said, and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said softly, and motioned to the ground next to him. The Inquisitor sat.

They were silent for a few minutes as he sipped the tea.

"What's in this?" he asked politely.

"The same components as usual," she said. "Elfroot, willowbark, nightcap essence."

He chuckled, then winced, placing his fingers on his temples. "Evelyn, would you…?"

"What do you need?" she asked softly.

He hesitated. "Actually, I…I'll be fine. Thank you for the tea," he said.

"Of course," she smiled, and got up. He started rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her walk away. She did not appear upset, but I think he was.

Vivienne sniffed at the whole exchange, but ceased her prattling immediately afterwards, and left me in peace. She has been sharp with everyone since the death of her…de Ghislain. Some of us have tried to speak to her, but it is obvious that she does not want sympathy from anyone. I know Evelyn aided her in some way before de Ghislain's death, but even this seems to have not altered Vivienne's attitude.

So there is your news, Sister Nosy: no news at all. We should be arriving at our destination in the next few days, so I will keep you abreast of any developments. Developments in our mission, I might add.

Cassandra

From Commander Cullen's personal journal:

When we set out on this journey, I will admit that I was somewhat anxious about traveling with the Inquisitor and so many other people. Thus far, I have been overwhelmed with work, and not had any real time for personal considerations, but now, in a quiet moment, I must examine this worry, and this journal has proven to be a good place to do such things.

From the beginning, I had to focus on my main goals: make sure personally that Samson is eliminated, and ensure that Evelyn would not be placed in harm's way again because of my past.

Evelyn has been so open and honest about her affection towards me that I admit I was worried it might become a problem. Would she want to share a tent with me? My bed? Touch me affectionately when others were around? I was not sure what I would be comfortable with. We were in such a hurry when we left Skyhold that I was unable to speak to her about such matters, unable to really formulate my own ideas about what would be appropriate. I needed to focus on the mission, focus on Samson and the Red Templars.

It turned out, of course, that my concerns were not an issue. Evelyn has been nothing but cordial since we departed. She has her own tent. She does not touch me, accidentally or otherwise. She has not snuck into my bed once, not even to talk. No one would think…anything.

I am miserable. Acting, for weeks on end, like one does not care for one's beloved is…awful. I had thought I yearned for Solona, but this…there is no comparison. Two days ago, I had a terrible headache, and she brought me some tea, at least. I wanted to ask her to put her cold hand on my neck like she did in Ferelden, but I didn't. And then she went away.

So she's doing exactly what I wanted her to do, exactly what I thought would be proper, and now I am unhappy. She seems…calm, serene. It is like she knew what I was thinking when we left Skyhold, and suddenly stopped reaching towards me. That's made it obvious that I am the one playing it incredibly safe, and she was taking most of the risks.

She told me she loves me. I love her, I feel it deep in my blood and bones. Why must I hide this?

Her relationship with me will not undermine my command. My troops trust me, but they adore her. As odd as she can be sometimes, they see the goodness at her core, and know that she does not ask them to make sacrifices that she herself would not—has not, already. I've heard the jokes that come out of the barracks, but it has only served to make both of us seem more accessible, more human, to them.

Indeed, she has always tried to treat me as a man and not a Templar. Maker, I got every impossible thing I dreamed about, and more: she touched me, made love with me, wanted to plan a future after the Inquisition with me. And I am not a Templar any longer. She will always be a mage, and I would not take that away, even if I could, for it is part of who she is, like the fireflies.

So why do I feel like I will lose her, or I will be weakened, if other people find out—if someone else sees how I feel for her?

Ah, there it is; yet again, written down I can tell what this feeling really is. Another stupid Templar habit, learned the hard way. I've been holding it close to my heart, right next to where my brother's coin used to be hidden, so close I could not see it.

If you conceal the one thing you want above all else, then no one can take it away from you.

You cannot give your heart to another person and still keep it safe, but that is what I've been trying to do.

Maker, I am such a prick.

…

I went to see her after I wrote this, to apologize and try to make it right, even though I don't know how. Her tent was empty, and Dorian told me she was meditating elsewhere, and he was unsure of her location. She meditates?

We will arrive at the base soon, and I do not know how I will untangle myself from this. What have I done?