Evelyn sat back on her heels and warmed her cracked hands over the command center fire. The sooner the army got out of the Frostbacks, the better. Morale was high for now, but if they encountered any more rockslides like they had in the morning, it would not stay that way. The army had a long way to march yet.

She did not bother to look up when she heard the familiar crunch of Iron Bull's boots. "Here. Have a drink of this. It'll warm you up."

Evelyn blinked at the drinking horn he held out to her and frowned. "I've had my fill of that stuff. Once was enough."

The corner of Bull's mouth quirked upward. "Suit yourself." He lowered himself down onto a log and took a swig. "We're finally going after Coryphyshit."

It was Evelyn's turn to smile. "You've been hanging out with Sera for too long."

"She only says what we're all thinking."

Evelyn did not reply.

"You haven't been yourself lately. People are noticing. It's making people nervous."

Evelyn looked at him, opened her mouth, and then closed it.

Bull grunted. "You've got this. Anyone who can leap onto the back of a dragon and shoot an arrow into its brain can deal with some dead Vint asshole."

She snorted. "I did do that, didn't I?"

"And it was fucking great. Ah, man, the way it roared! Y'know, Boss, if things were different. . ." He shook his head and grinned. "Sure you don't want some?" Bull asked as he thrust the drinking horn in front of her face.

The smell of it made her stomach churn. "Really, Bull, thank you, but I'm fine."

"Well," he said, as he got back up to his feet, "don't say I didn't offer. Have a good night."

"Good night, Bull." She watched as he started down the hill to the main camp, a hulking shadow against the light of hundreds of fires.

As he was about to disappear around a tree, he stopped and turned about at his waist. "Oh, and Boss?"

She arched a brow. "Yes, Bull?"

"Talk to him. Give him a chance."

She sighed. She did not need any clarification on who Bull was talking about. One of the guards posted at the command center shifted her weight. Evelyn bristled. "I don't think that's any of your business," she replied.

"I'll keep that in mind next time you're about to murder someone in a tavern."

Evelyn flinched as she saw a soldier look quickly away from her. She swallowed the knot of rising anger and looked hard at the Qunari. "Goodnight, Bull."

He stood still for a moment before he nodded and turned away. As he disappeared around the bend she could see the silhouette of his drinking horn move up to his lips.

She went back to staring at the flames of her own fire. She had at least a quarter glass until Cassandra and Cullen finished their inspection of camp. Maker knew when Leliana would come up. If she did. Evelyn was not sure if the woman slept at all.

In a fortnight they would be joining the Emperor's army at Emprise du Lion, and together march to the Arbor Wilds. This was different than the march to Adamant. This was bigger. Evelyn let out a slow breath. It was. . . It was terrifying. They were going to be meeting the enemy head on.

This was going to be the battle for all of Thedas and she was going to be leading the assault. A hunter in the front lines. She shook her head.

How had she gotten here? How had her life culminated into leading a force of united people against a long-dead magister? The daughter of a Free March noble, cast out from the Chantry, and marked a heretic. Herald. Inquisitor.

Friend.

Lover.

She rubbed her temples and sighed.

Getting to this point had not been easy. It had be fraught with death, pain, betrayal, and grief. But it had also been full of laughter and hope. It all seemed like a dream now that the climax of the story was approaching.

Evelyn straightened and gazed down at the sprawl of tents and fires in the valley below. Thousands of soldiers were down there, all of the Inquisition and its allies, save for Gaspard. Mage and Templar. Dalish and human. Qunari. Dwarves. Maker's Balls, there was even a spirit, and quite frankly, she would not have been surprised if there were more than Cole among the soldiers gathered. The wind carried the host of soldiers' laughs and shouts up to her perch in the the command center.

"Your Grace?"

Evelyn glanced at one of the soldiers posted at the flap of her tent with a frown, and realized she had started down toward the path Bull had just left. "I'm going to make my own inspections. Tell the Commander and Seeker not to wait up for me."

"Yes, Your Grace."

She nodded at the soldier and then the other two stationed at the top of the path. She quickly batted away the thoughts that these men had overheard Bull's remarks. It would do her no good to dwell on that. Her relationship with Thom was well known at this point, what with the way he had carried on in the hall during his judgement. She sighed. Her life would never be quiet. Not until she drew her last breath, and even that brought her no solace. Not after Adamant. Not after Cole.

There was no peace in death and she had no doubt in her mind that she was going to die. A dragon was one thing, and a legendary Tevinter Magister was quite another. Only she, out of everyone in the Inquisition, truly knew what standing before Corypheus was like. She alone had stood up to him and had been tossed around like a rag doll.

As she stepped past a group of tents and huddled soldiers, two voices caught her attention.

"So you bagged the silver? Sent letters the first night, then six friends by the river?"

Evelyn cocked her head to the side. That was Varric's voice. What in the Maker was he up to?

"Bartered the keys and never even saw lordy. Half the fun, but that's all right. Twice the take!"

And there was no mistaking Sera. Varric's group of. . . legitimate businessmen and Red Jenny had teamed up? Evelyn inched around the edge of a tent and peered around the corner. There they were, heads together, behind a wagon.

Varric chuckled. "That was just the start, Buttercup - a maneauver to increase pressure and reward in a secondary caper."

"Yeah!" Sera flashed him in a grin which was rapidly replaced with a frown. "A what?"

Evelyn suppressed a laugh. "You two aren't causing too much trouble, I hope," she said as she stepped into the light. Satisfaction rushed through her when the conspirators jumped.

"Causing?" Varric smiled after he reeled around to face her. He visibly relaxed when he recognized her and spread his hands out in front of him. "No. Harnessing is a better word."

Sera let out one of her giggles. "Smarty-pants here really knows how to wring them out."

Varric shrugged. "And how is our Herald making out?"

Evelyn smiled ruefully. "Surviving. We've got a lot of ground to cover before we get there."

"We'll make it," the dwarf promised. "We're heroes after all."

"I thought you said heroes died."

"Not the ones I write about," he countered without any hesitation.

"Right, well, I'll let you two get back to. . . whatever it is you're up to," she said with a shake of her head.

Sera did not wait for Evelyn to leave before she continued where she had left off. "That problem you had down the Bannorn?" she said with an arch of a brow Varric's way. "Fixed it."

Varric's eyes narrowed. "Now why would you think I had concerns out that way?"

Sera just about glowed. "I'm still better at having chatty friends. Anyway, your caravan got away."

"Hypothetically," Varric said as he shifted his position so he could get a good look at the elf, "how many people did that cost?"

Sera wrinkled her nose. "One angry cook and a side of bad pork. The shits stop a search as well as anything." She cackled and slapped her knee. "Not every plan needs days and ropes and stuff."

Evelyn pressed her lips together and shook her head, leaving the pair to their intrigue. Varric truly did believe they were going to get out of this alive if he was still planning ahead and up to his same old tricks. Sera, too. She wished she shared their optimism.

She took one of the outside paths of the camp, wanting to avoid the crowds, or possibly running into Cullen. The last thing she wanted to do was go over more maps and contingency plans. Every road, river, stream and rock from here to the Arbor Wilds was etched into her brain. Their backup plans had backup plans. Every possible, implausible and downright impossible situation had been analyzed and accounted for. Skyhold's courtyard was covered in raven shit.

She navigated her way to Kiall's camp; an easy task to do as it was the source of cooking smells. Seeing the old hunter's face would calm her. His inane prattle and focus on game, hunting techniques, and old stories would keep her mind occupied.

Kiall was busy ordering two farm boys, probably fifteen years old or so, to pick up the large cauldron of stew. Other hunters had similar cauldrons and ladles.

"Ah! Eve!" he said as she approached. "Just in time. Put yourself to use, eh? The soldiers need to be fed real food, not that leather your quartermaster calls rations. Grab a basket of bread, will ya? You're in charge of the south-west quadrant of camp. The Templar section. If you've reached the mages, you've gone too far." He nodded and then turned toward his contingent of hunters. "Alright lads, you know the drill. Off you go."

Evelyn watched the small troop of men lift baskets of bread and hoist their cauldrons on poles. Pair by pair they left the camp fire, until there was only one man, one cauldron, and two baskets left.

"Guess I'm with you, then," she said without really looking at him. She grabbed a basket and slung it by the strap over her shoulder.

"I suppose so," came the reply.

Evelyn's heart skipped a beat.

"Bl- Thom," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you." She looked up and he stepped into the light of the fire. Shadows danced across his face. "You shaved."

He grimaced and ran a hand over his chin. "Something about learning how to be Thom Rainier."

Evelyn swallowed and gave him a good look over. He would have looked younger without his beard had it not been the bags under his eyes. He had strands of grey at his temples that she had not noticed before. She said the first thing that came to her mind. "You look tired."

Thom let out a choked laugh. "I could say the same about you."

She grunted. "You wouldn't be wrong." She bit her lower lip and looked down at the cauldron. "Well, we can't let our troops gnaw on leather, can we?"

"That wouldn't be right," he said as he grabbed a basket. He flashed her a tentative smile.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach as the corners of his eyes crinkled. He was handsome without the beard. Well, he had been with it, too, in a steady, masculine way. Now he appeared more polished, like a captain - a winner of the Grand Tourney. She smiled back.

She stood between the two front poles and he took up the rear.

"Ready?" she said with a glance his way.

"On the count of three," he answered. "One, two, thr- whoa. This is heavier than it looks."

Evelyn chuckled and held steady for a moment, not wanting the stew to slop over the sides "What is this, anyway?"

"Venison," Rainier said. "Varric will be happy about that." He waited until Evelyn evened out her grip on the poles. "Ready?"

Evelyn nodded. "Yup. This wasn't exactly what I was expecting when I came over here."

Thom let out a guffaw. "I was looking for brandy. Kiall always has some in stock."

"That bastard," she said as she grasped Kiall's plot. She should have known Kiall would have cooked up a plan if both she and Thom arrived on his turf.

"Pardon?"

Evelyn did not have time to answer as they had arrived at the first square of tents. The Templars greeted them with a cheer.

"Hey, Fingers!" one called out, "Grub's here. Stop tuggin' the- Oh. Your Grace." The man's face went ashen. "I didn't-"

Evelyn laughed. "Didn't expect me to be on kitchen duty? As you were."

She and Thom lowered the cauldron down to the ground. Thom reached into the basket on her back and started handing out the rolls to the men while Evelyn unhooked the ladle from the side of the pot.

"Alright, form a line!" she called with a lopsided grin. "Dinner is served."

The young man she figured was Fingers came tripping out of a tent to her left, hastily tucking the laces of his breeches inside his waistband. Evelyn pressed her lips into a line and averted her eyes. She could hear a stifled chuckle come from Thom behind her.

The men ripped out the center of their rolls so she could spoon the venison stew into them like bowls. Each bowed their head as they approached. Some muttered their thanks, some stayed mute. After each had been served, they waited expectantly. Evelyn frowned. She glanced back at Rainier when he cleared his throat. He nodded at her and then at the waiting Templars. Realization dawned over her; they were waiting for her to say grace. She swallowed. It had been ages since she had done this.

"Um. Let us pray," she said, searching her memory for a verse that could apply to their situation. "There, in the heart of them," she began with a tremble in her voice. The Canticle of Shartan? Of all the passages she had to choose that one. It had been struck from the Chant. She closed her eyes and continued, committed as she was. "Sang a Lady radiant and clad in armor of bright steel." A soft murmur of approval went through the group of Templars standing before her. Her back straightened.

"She paused her song to look upon Shartan.
And she said to him: 'All souls who take up the sword
Against Tevinter are welcome here.
Rest, and tell us of your battles.'

"And Shartan told her: 'I cannot rest
While the People wait in darkness and fear.'
So Andraste sent him with three of her attendants
To invite the People to come to her side.

"And the People came, all astonished
To stand among Andraste's followers,
And she gave them food and drink and bade them sit
While Shartan gave her the tale of their uprising
And flight from Val Dorma.

"When the tale was finished, Andraste said to Shartan:
'Truly, the Maker has called you, just as He called me,
To be a Light for your People.
The host you see before you march,
Bearing His will north, where we shall deliver it
To Minrathous city of magisters, and we shall tear down
The unassailable gates, and set all slaves free.'"

Evelyn moistened her lips with her tongue. The Templars kept their gaze lowered to the ground.

"And Shartan looked upon the Prophet Andraste
And said: 'The People will set ourselves free.
Your host from the South may march
Alongside us.'

"The giants of the South rose to their feet as one
And bowed. And Andraste said:
'It is done. We march as one.'"

"Blessings be upon you, Your Grace," said one man when she had finished. "Blessings be upon Your Grace," echoed a few of the others.

Evelyn hid her warming cheeks by turning away from them to fasten the ladle back to the cauldron.

"How'd I do?" she asked as she and Thom left that campfire and slowly made their way to the next.

"Long, but apt. I suppose Corypheus is a magister." The cauldron shifted as he shrugged. "It meant something to them, and that's what matters."

"So, make it shorter is what you're saying."

"Well," he coughed, "I wouldn't mind eating before midnight, myself."

Evelyn laughed.

The next group went the same way as the first, but instead of the Canticle of Shartan, she kept to the standard grace.

"My hearth is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours. For all who walk in the sight of the Maker are one."

"Better," Rainier said when they were off to the third group.

To Evelyn's delight, Henry was there. She had not spent much time with her brothers for a long while. Henry had spent the last few months out in the field, recruiting mages for the Inquisition. He had been a good apostate hunter, and Knight-Commander Barris was quick in putting his skills to similar use to benefit the cause. Maxwell was a sergeant in the Inquisition army. He had his own duties to attend to.

"Henry!" she called with a laugh. He met her with a hug and thumped her back a few times.

"Evelyn." He held her by her shoulders and shook his head in wonder.

She beamed at him. "I know, right? Never thought we'd be doing this."

"It's an honour, sister," he said with a bow of his head.

"Oh get off it." She shrugged his hands off. "I get enough of that from everyone else. I don't need it from my brother."

Henry gave her a slow grin. "I can't help it."

"You're all he ever talks about," said an older Templar as he settled down by the fire with his dinner.

Evelyn glanced back at Rainier, who had started to serve the Templars while she greeted Henry.

Henry shot a warning look at the older man, but the Templar only laughed. "He's proud of you. He is proud to serve. We are all proud to serve the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste."

Each Templar at the fire thumped their fists over their hearts. Evelyn held her chin up and took the salute, even though it made her want to squirm.

"How long until we reach the Arbor Wilds?" asked Henry while he waited for his own bowl.

Evelyn pursed her lips. "Well, it'll be about a fortnight's march to Emprise du Lion. And then, well, with these numbers, probably another three until the Arbor Wilds. The summer rains will be in full force. It'll be soft and muddy terrain which will be a problem for the wagons."

"And troops," added Rainier.

She nodded. "We'll have to rotate the marching order, so not everyone is either blazing the trail or knee deep in mud."

Thom fastened the ladle to the cauldron and stood straight.

"Well, your brothers in arms are still waiting for their supper." Evelyn smiled at Henry. "May you walk in the Light."

Henry leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

She squeezed his arm before she turned away to help carry the now lighter cauldron.

The Templars were grateful for the hot food. They smiled when she arrived, gave thanks and blessings both. She laughed and asked after their well-being. Thom seemed to know many of them by name and exchanged jokes and shared quips. Each fire burned more brightly than when they arrived.

The Templar encampment was the smallest, save for perhaps the mages', and she and Thom were finished with their duties long before the rest of the hunters. They returned to Kiall's campfire and scraped the rest of the stew into their own bread bowls after Thom stoked the fire back to life.

Without a task to keep them occupied and working together, Evelyn suddenly felt at a loss of what to say. It felt good to have him sitting next her, even if they kept their own counsel. They ate without speaking, only the crack of the flames and the occasional shout or laugh from the neighboring fire punctuating the silence.

When she had finished the last of the broth soaked bread, Evelyn spoke. "He did this on purpose."

Thom looked at her and nodded. "Aye."

"Wanted to get us talking again, I suppose."

"Probably."

Conversation stilled. Evelyn watched the blaze and the dancing puff of sparks and ash. Thom stretched out his right leg and massaged his knee.

"I miss you," she whispered. She snuck a glance from the corner of her eye to catch his response.

"Maker, Evelyn." His voice broke.

She reached out her calloused hand and took his rough one into her own. He looked up at that.

"I'd like to have you by my side. . . If, if you still want to be there."

Thom swallowed, and his hand tightened around hers. "I never wanted to leave it."

Pressure built behind her eyes, and she sniffled back a sob. "Stay with me? Tonight, and every night?"

He met her eyes with his own. He opened his mouth, but then closed it. Her heart plummeted to her feet and she began to pull her hand from his, but he caught it tightly.

"I was a fool once," he said. "I refuse to be a fool again. Tonight, and every night. Every day. Every moment. I love you, Evelyn."