Cole caught Sinead as she fell, and lowered her to the floor. He frowned. She felt like she was sleeping peacefully, but he could not see her dreams. It was…odd.

The barrier shattered, and suddenly he was surrounded by friends. The Inquisitor pulled him up and gave him a hug tight enough that his chainmail tunic pressed painfully into his chest. She pulled away and then Dorian was patting him on the shoulder while Krem slapped his back and wiggled the helmet on his head.

"I am so glad you're okay," the Inquisitor said with relief. "You had me worried for a moment."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to almost die." He took off the helmet and shook out his damp hair.

The Inquisitor's brows shot up in surprise. She smiled, amused. "Is that…stubble upon your chin?"

"What? Oh." Cole rubbed his cheek. He had grown so used to the sensation by now that he did not think about it much.

"Did we forget to tell you on our way here?" Dorian threw his arm over Cole's shoulder. "Our young spirit friend has become a man. In many different ways."

"Dorian…" Cole felt himself blush. He found that unfair – not only did he have to feel embarrassment, one of his least favorite emotions, his body told everyone when he was embarrassed, which was even more embarrassing. That was one thing he knew he would never get used to.

"Well, well!" The Inquisitor grinned at him. "I'll have to congratulate you properly later." She nodded at Sinead. "Is she okay?"

"Yes."

He kneeled next to Eluard, who was on his knees, examining Sinead. Tal-Ashkaari was sitting across from them, scribbling madly in a small journal.

"She appears to be healthy. Strong." Eluard frowned as he examined her, his eyes tinged with red. "She used a lot of power, tapped her own limits, but ultimately did not go too far. The power she drew from Titus prevented this. She feels a bit odd, though…perhaps a residual sensation from holding that much power." He healed Sinead's shoulder.

"How was she able to hold so much power?" the Inquisitor asked. "I could feel it all around her. Nothing organic should have been able to survive holding that amount of power without becoming mush."

"She split in two," Cole said, fingering a few of Sinead's curls. "Her self and her other self."

"Yep, that explains it," Krem drawled.

"In a way, it does," Eluard mused, standing and rubbing his scrabbled shin. "When she was made Tranquil, Sinead was cut off from the Fade. Essentially 'split' from her 'soul', if you will. If what Cole says is true, I hypothesize that when the power became too much for her physical body, the part of her that is connected to the Fade broke away and took the power with it."

"Ah, so essentially her 'soul' became a reservoir for the power? Fascinating." Dorian brightened as he connected the dots in his mind. "And because she had no true block from the Fade, she was able to draw upon that power. Well, isn't that a handy trick!"

"How could Tranquility cause such a thing?" The Inquisitor said doubtfully. "The reports I've read about the mage Pharamond say that he showed no special skills when he was cured. In fact, he was plagued by a lack of emotional control."

"When Sinead was cured, she seemed generally unaffected, aside from the obvious need to regain emotional control," Eluard explained. "However, this makes little sense – seekers gain special abilities when made Tranquil and then cured, and they are men and women born with no magical prowess. I hypothesize, then, that Tranquility also gives mages special abilities – abilities that have not been seen in some time, if ever. After all, what mage has been made Tranquil and then cured in our written history?"

"This could change so many things," Dorian muttered under his breath, becoming excited. "Think of it – if Tranquility allows for new abilities, new powers when cured, then –"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," the Inquisitor said, holding up her hands. "We can discuss the possibilities later. And I'll have to say a few words to Divine Victoria about it, as well. For now, this stays between us, are we clear?"

Everyone nodded, save Cole, who was studying Sinead's hair and only half listening, and Tal-Ashkaari, who was still writing furiously in her notebook. The Inquisitor coughed loudly, and caught both of their attention.

"I said, are we clear?"

"I can…be vague in my report about the phenomenon," Tal-Ashkaari said reluctantly.

"Yes," Cole said, letting a lock of Sinead's hair slip through his fingers – it was completely white, and to his eyes it glowed with an inner light. It unnerved him. The lock disappeared into her black curls.

"Right. Now, next steps – we need to fetch Josephine, get out of this city and have Cullen rally the troops," the Inquisitor said, her voice slipping into one of authority. "These people need our help – it sounds like chaos out there."

For the first time, the others (aside from Cole, who had been feeling the general turmoil of the city for some time) took notice of the din of shouts and cries and explosions beyond the Temple doors.

"You'll do no such thing," someone bellowed from the balcony above.

Everyone looked up to see an older elf dressed in a flowing green robe and cowl. He held a staff, and stared down at the crew with a cool gaze.

"Inquisitor, you have no authority in this city," the man continued. "We are a free city-state and will not abide intervention from the outside."

"Pardon me, but who exactly are you?" the Inquisitor asked crossly. "You weren't at the Council meeting."

"Of course I wasn't. I am head priest Trefor," the man said loftily. "But more importantly, I am head of the resistance." He pointed at Sinead with his staff. "I allowed your follower to live so that she may attempt to end Titus's life. She spared him, but the end result is the same: Titus no longer holds power in Vir Arlathan. She has followed through with her promise. Now I recommend that you all vacate this city until it is in the hands of my people."

"What, just like that?" The Inquisitor scoffed. "Your people are blowing up buildings! How many civilians died under the weight of all that stone?"

"For a full and complete regime change, all dissenters must be culled," Trefor said firmly. "This is none of your concern."

"I can't let you –"

"Inquisitor! You have two hundred soldiers to call on, yes? I have my own soldiers, and they will defend the city with their lives. You have a choice! If you want to prevent death, I suggest immediate retreat of you and your party. We can parlay about the issue with the Anders when we have stabilized."

"How do you know of the Anders? I thought you weren't at the Council meeting," the Inquisitor said darkly.

Trefor gave her a small smile. "I have my little birds. Now, leave. And take Titus's spawn and her escort with you. We want nothing to do with either of them. Get them out of our city."

"Inquisitor, I think it may be a good idea to accommodate his request," Dorian muttered. He nodded at the door.

Twelve robed Ravens stood on either side of the door, their eyes cool and unfeeling. Josephine was in their midst, putting on her bravest face, but Cole could feel that her nerves were tight and tearing.

"My people will escort you to the city gates, Inquisitor," Trefor said. "We will speak later."

"But what of Titus?" Tal-Ashkaari eyed the broken man as she stood.

"He will answer for his crimes," Trefor said grimly.

The Inquisitor hesitated a moment before relenting.

"Let's go," she said angrily. "I need a very large drink."

Cole picked up Sinead, and the crew was marched through the mad mob by the Ravens. The doors to the city closed behind them, muffling the cacophony within.

The Inquisitor, Cullen and Josephine argued for some time about what to do, as the cries within the walls refused to still and fire lit up the night sky. The advisors urged the Inquisitor to be patient and wait out events.

"We are unwanted," Josephine said. "If we attack now, the Anders may see it as a sign to push forward, and the city will be overwhelmed. It is…most disturbing, I know, but if we want to minimize losses on either side…"

"Josephine is right," Cullen said slowly. "We may succeed in taking the city, but not without serious losses. And we did not come here to fight against revolutionaries – we always had the intention of freeing Sinead from being pursued by a madman first, and freeing the world of another potential Corypheus situation second."

The Inquisitor reluctantly agreed, but it hurt her to do so. Cole found her at the fire that night and sat beside her as guilt and anger and regret and frustration rippled from her.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing by not helping the people of Vir Arlathan?" she asked turning to him. "Be honest."

Cole thought a moment. "I…don't know. If you send in the Inquisition soldiers, many might die. No one will be happy with you. But, you would have tried. It's…complicated." He clasped his hands together. "I want to help, but no one wants me in there. They think I'm one of the bad ones. I…don't think it would help to help."

The Inquisitor gave him a thoughtful look. She felt of the sadness that comes with wisdom.

"You have grown up quite a bit since you first joined the Inquisition," she said with a small smile. "I don't know if the young man I first met would have even wanted to understand a concept like 'complexity.'" Her face became concerned. "Has it been very difficult?"

"Sometimes." He looked down at his hands. "I know now that I would have been happier if I had made a different choice. That it wasn't the wrong choice to make. But neither was this one. Sometimes it's terrible. Sometimes it's wonderful." He gave her an inquisitive look. "Is that right?"

"That's as right as I've been able to make it, Cole." She hugged him with one arm. "I think you're doing fine."

"I think you are, too." He slipped away from her. "I know you will help them when they let you."

"I'll damn well try."

Another day passed and the city continued to burn, but the cries died down. Charter and her spies had escaped in the night, reporting to the Inquisitor that the people had been gathered in units.

"We got out by the skin of our teeth," she said. "I think the killings are finished, aside from the random dissident. They're parading Titus around like a trophy. It's…not surprising, given the city's history, but it's still an unpleasant sight."

Cole tried to ignore the pain he felt from behind the wall. It shook him, being so close and being able to do nothing, just as he had been able to do nothing throughout his time in Vir Arlathan.

It did not help that Sinead still slept. As the noise and turmoil within the city calmed, she lay in the infirmary tent, unmoved by either Eluard or the healer's examinations. Her breathing was steady; her mind was calm. Cole hovered around her – usually he would be fine with her sleeping and do what he could to help around the camp, but this sleep felt so strange, so different.

She still did not dream. Or, no, she was dreaming – it was not like when Varric slept, where there was nothing but black and rest. But he could see nothing, could hear nothing. And more than that, she felt slightly unreal – like that strand of hair that glowed beneath the blackness. It was not supposed to exist, not here, not where things were solid. The bit of her she left in the Fade when the power left her was stuck, and so she seemed to be in both places at once. Had he still been more spirit, he may have seen it as interesting, but nothing to worry about. Now it rattled him – even he always existed in one realm or the other, not in between. This was unnatural, only possible by the blood magic she had used to break Purpose's grip on her.

"She'll wake eventually," Eluard reassured him one morning as he checked over Sinead. "It was quite a lot of effort to use all that power, and I have a feeling she doesn't do it often. If she practiced more…" he began to grouse about his former student's study habits.

"I know she'll wake up," Cole said, frustrated. "But what will she be when she does?"

Eluard quieted. "Ah. I should have known you noticed. I'm so used to being the only one who…well." He combed through Sinead's hair and presented the bright, white lock on his palm. "She's caught, and I can't free her – much of my power dissipated with Purpose. I don't think anyone could free her at this point, save someone with incredible power. Have you gone looking for her yet?"

"In the Fade?" Cole shook his head. "It's hard for me to find someone specific."

"Hm." Eluard chuckled. "You know, I don't wonder that if you had let yourself be a mage, if you would have been a dreamer. You handicapped yourself by coming here without any other magic than what you held. But I suppose that was the point, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well. I can find whomever I wish in the Fade while they dream. I was always good at it. Picked up on it right away when I was taught long ago. I've found Sinead plenty of times in her lifetime." He curled the lock of hair around a finger. "And now I can't. She's a mystery. Hidden away somewhere that I can't reach." He released the lock and raised a brow. "She is sound of mind and body. And it's likely that her day to day life and thoughts and feelings will remain unchanged. But we'll have to watch her, won't we? Just in case."

Cole considered all the meanings of "just in case" that ran through Eluard's thoughts. He nodded.

"Just in case."

After this discussion, Cole decided to distract himself. He ran errands around camp, did his usual help with the little things, and helped Charter and her team prepare their kits. It was then that Charter took notice of his presence in camp. After a word with the Inquisitor, Charter took up all of his time for the rest of the day.

"It's about time you learned how to make a proper kit." She eyed up his clothes. She had returned his hat to him with great unwillingness, and she stared at it upon his head with distaste. "You can't jump in and out of every enemy camp with that thing on your head."

"I have before," he said, annoyed. "And it's not any thing. It's my hat."

Charter snorted. "We'll work around it. For now."

She set him the task of preparing his own kit for her to inspect, then had him walk through training exercises with the others on her team. They gave him blunted knives, at first treating him like a novice, then quickly realizing their mistake and using him as a living practice dummy, everyone taking a turn trying to gain the upper hand on him. It was interesting to fight without hurting or killing – almost like a dance.

Finally, in the afternoon on the third day, a representative from the new Vir Arlathan Council entered the Inquisition camp and announced that the Council requested an audience with the Inquisitor, her Ambassador, and the false prophet's granddaughter.

"Tell the Council that we will accommodate its request as soon as all members of our party have recovered," the Inquisitor said shortly. "And tell them I look forward to our future negotiations. I imagine they'll be…lively."

When the representative was out of earshot, the Inquisitor pulled Cole aside.

"Is she going to wake up soon, do you think?" she asked.

Cole shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" The Inquisitor was flabbergasted.

"I'm allowed not to know."

"Yes, of course, it's just…rare." She sighed. "Well, I cannot keep this unit here forever. And the Anders are still awaiting an answer. If Sinead doesn't wake up soon, I'll have to move forward without her."

"You shouldn't. They'll be very angry if you do."

"Damn it."

Cole could feel the Inquisitor's agitation grow as the day passed by and Sinead still did not wake. It fed his own worry. The last time she had taken so long to recover, she had been trapped in her own dreams. Now he could not tell what kept her from surfacing from sleep. It was enough to distract him as he practiced with the scouts and spies. One or two managed to hit him in the arms with their blunted blades, bruising him.

He slept fitfully that night, unable to stay in the Fade without worrying about where Sinead may be in the empty, jagged plains. Or, not so empty, now. Only three nights had passed since Purpose was defeated, and already the Fade was shifting away from the demon's formation. The gray was gone, replaced with a tinge of green, and small spirits were tacitly probing the land. As it healed, it felt good to be in the Fade again. Restful.

Usually restful. Now he tossed and turned, plagued by apprehension. He rose with the sun, blinking away the sleep, exhausted. He ate a quick meal in the mess tent, then plodded to the practice area to work with the scouts.

And then, Sinead awoke. Her mind was a flash of brilliant light in his. He perked up and turned away from the grounds.

"Where do you think you're going?" Charter grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. "Practice every morning and afternoon. Every scout. That's the command."

"But –"

"No buts. Get to work." Charter pulled her knives. "Me first."

He could not stand it, this practicing when he did not want to practice. He fought with frustration, winning every bout as quickly as he could, the feeling of Sinead existing and awake somewhere without him making his mind reel.

Finally, he could take it no longer. He threw his knives into the ground point first, and ran off.

"That's insubordination!" Charter called after him.

"I know!" he called back. "I'm sorry!"

He ran through the camp, dodging soldiers and mages and healers, passing through the main hub of the camp, ignoring Dorian as he called after him from the mess tent, following Sinead's thoughts to the small copse of trees that ran alongside the small river that flowed close by.

A few soldiers stood guard in front of the copse. He flew by them, ignoring their yells for him to stop. They chased after him, but were unable to catch up. A large blue tent had been erected across the shallow river. His heart leapt – Sinead was within; he could feel her cheery thoughts. Without slowing, he made for the tent, kicking up water as he ran, and slid between the lowered flaps.

"Si – oh!"

It was the women's bathing tent. And the women were not happy to see him. He flushed furiously and pulled his hat over his eyes as a cry went up among the female soldiers.

"Sorry!" He said as the women jeered and pelted him with mud clods.

"Stop! Wait! I think he's here for me!" Sinead's voice rose from the crowd. And then her hand was in his, and she was pulling him from the tent as the mud continued to shower him.

"Sorry!" he said one last time, to many hisses and curses.

The two soldiers were at the tent now, and he stopped with Sinead, eyes still covered, as she talked them down.

"He didn't know this was the women's tent," she said soothingly. "He wasn't thinking. He does that sometimes."

"Well, I'm telling you there's about a dozen soldiers that will try that trick if we don't punish him," one of the guards snapped.

"Tell the Inquisitor personally. I'm sure she'll explain. I'll take care of him for now."

She pulled him away from the anger and annoyance emanating from the tent. He stumbled along after her, not wanting to uncover his eyes, feeling desperately embarrassed.

"Since when do you go bright red when you see a bunch of naked bodies?" she said, amused.

"I don't know," he said, amazed. "There was so much…skin. Bright red?"

"Like a ripe apple," she said cheerfully. "And what exactly were you thinking? Surely you could hear all those thoughts."

"I wasn't listening for them. I was listening for you. I was thinking, I want to see Sinead."

She stopped and pushed up his hat. Her brown eyes danced with laughter. Damp coated her golden skin and shoulder-length hair, and she was wearing an equally damp shift that clung to her body.

"And now what are you thinking?"

"Um." He tried to think of something to say, but she was very distracting.

"Me, too."

She wrapped her arm around his neck and jumped on him, forcing him to catch her while she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him. He stumbled back and fell to the ground as he returned her kiss, his back hitting a tree. He noticed for the first time that they were somewhere within the copse of trees, a distance from the camp. Sinead worked to open the clasps on his tunic as she kissed his neck.

"There's…patrols along the river…" he said reluctantly.

"I. Don't. Care," she said between kisses as she grabbed his hat and tossed it away.

He supposed he had done his due diligence and took her reply as permission to help her remove her shift.

After, she straddled his lap, resting her head against his shoulder as he hugged her against him and ran his hand over her hair. She was still very much Sinead, that was clear. He was relieved and content and rather happy.

"You're still you," he murmured absently.

She pulled away and gave him a look. "Of course I – oh. Oh, did you think I'd be Tranquil again? Because of the way I – well, I sort of broke in two…"

"No." He brushed a few stray hairs from her face. "The piece of you that's trapped in the Fade…you're more solid there, now. A little less solid here."

"A very, very little," she said stoutly. "It's like I slammed my pinkie toe in a door, that's all. Nothing worrying. I still feel like me."

"And your dreams," he continued. "I can't hear a thing."

"Well, I can't remember a thing," she said with a shrug. "Which is preferable to me. I wouldn't mind never dreaming again."

"But –"

"You're only worried because you don't have any answers for my current…condition." She kissed him and smiled. "But no one has answers. It's not exactly normal. Sometimes that's how it is."

"It doesn't bother you." He said slowly. "It's a price to you. For using a power collected from so many lost lives. You shouldn't think of it that way. It's not you –"

"I know." She stood and collected her shift from the ground, knocking off dead leaves. "I can't help it." She gave him a pleading look. "Please. Let's not discuss this one thing?"

He hesitated. "…For now," he conceded.

"Thank you." She picked up his hat and plopped it on his head. "I have to go. I was told that I'm to meet with the Council. Good Maker, I thought it would be finished when Titus was finished, but I suppose not. And you?"

"I'm helping some of the scouts…train…"

He realized suddenly how very annoyed Charter was going to be when he returned. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel her seething about him. He watched Sinead struggle into her shift, knowing better than to offer help, and smiled. This was worth the coming unpleasantness.

The Inquisitor, Josephine, Sinead, and a very small entourage of soldiers were gone for the rest of the day, meeting with the Vir Arlathan Council. Almost all of the soldiers had eaten dinner and left the mess before the group's return. Cole waited until the last moment to eat, then shared his meal with Dorian, Krem and Tal-Ashkaari, listening to the three of them chatter about their own adventures running from Titus's scouts.

"Oh, that one village with all the dye vats," Krem said. "D'you – Tal-Ashkaari, d'you remember how you just knocked that little green bird right out of the air with your spear? Plunk! Right into a vat of yellow dye. Poor kid shifted back spitting dye out of his mouth."

"Not too terrible for him – yellow was his color," Dorian said, laughing. "I'm rather fond of the moment you convinced two scouts that Tal-Ashkaari was a totally different capped-horn woman with a spear in the middle of Tevinter. "Oh, her? Oh, we bought her at a discount. She makes terrible fritters."

"I would still like to know what a fritter is," Tal-Ashkaari said thoughtfully. "I do not believe the samples either of you made are worthy to be called food."

"Oh, harsh words from a woman who burns water." Krem grinned.

"I had forgotten that! Burning water! Water, my dear."

"It was the pot," she said defensively. "And I merely forgot it was on the fire until the water boiled away."

"I'll miss that pot," Krem sighed. "It made so many good stews…"

Dorian looked at Cole. "Are you sure nothing of note happened in your travels?"

They had been trying to get him to tell tales for days, but he never seemed to do it right. They always looked so confused when he finished. He thought a moment.

"There was a cat. A kitten. Small, silly, soft. It annoyed its mother." He chuckled a little, remembering the kitten shaking its small head and then jumping back up on the porch to attack his mother's tail again. "Her tail flicked back and forth so fast! Maybe I won't brood again for a while…"

All of them stared at him.

"It was funny."

"Yes, well. I suppose you had to be there," Dorian said kindly.

Just then, the Inquisitor and Sinead entered the mess tent, joining their group. The Inquisitor felt tired – Sinead, however, was stormy. She dropped into the seat next to Cole with a glower on her face.

"How was the meeting?" Dorian asked lightly.

"Long. Josephine went to her tent with a headache." The Inquisitor grabbed a pitcher of ale and poured she and Sinead a glass. "It took a long time to convince this new regime to open their gates to outsiders. At least they didn't try to kill us this time."

"The people have been press-ganged into cleaning up the city," Sinead spat. "They refused all help from the Inquisition. Unbelievable. They've gone from a theocratic regime to something akin to slavery."

"It may have gone a little faster if our Lady Archivist kept a few of her opinions to herself," the Inquisitor said, rubbing her eyes. "They were not her biggest fans."

"They treat you poorly?" Krem asked, concerned.

"They banned me from the city for the extent of my life," Sinead said with a shrug. "I presume upon my death I'm allowed to return. They also told me to denounce Titus and to proclaim myself in no way his heir. Frankly, we were in agreement on every point regarding myself."

"And what of Titus, that happy rogue?" Dorian asked.

"They're forcing him to be on a work detail," Sinead said. "Hard labor. He's lost his wits, but they don't seem to care. There policies are still mad as before."

"Hopefully the politics of the city will change. Josephine wheedled the Council until they agreed to allow some statescraftsmen in to help them come up with a more logical government. And I've sent messages to the Anders. The whole thing is, frankly, a mess. And I'd rather not discuss it again tonight." The Inquisitor downed her drink and poured another. "The point is, it's done."

"It's…done." Sinead's face lightened, her frown washed away by awe. "It's truly finished. No more wandering, no more looking for puzzles, no more running." She was a mix of incredible relief and a bit of sadness. "It's over."

"Well, don't look so excited," Dorian quipped. "The ecstasy may freeze your face like that."

"Of course I'm happy. But…I suppose our travels are over as well. It feels strange."

"It's always strange when you come to the end of a journey after pouring so much of your life into it, isn't it?" The Inquisitor gave her a sympathetic smile. "I understand the feeling."

"So I suppose…we're going home, then? Back to Skyhold?" She brightened. "I've missed my bed so much over the last months…"

"Well, you may be going back to Skyhold, but I'm afraid that this is where I part ways from the Inquisition." Dorian swirled the ale in his cup. "Time to say hello to father. Take my place as a proper Pavus."

"Oh. Of course." Sinead's smile dropped a little. "You came with us as a last mission before going home."

"Afraid it's the same for me, actually," Krem said with a half shrug. "The Chief's been going on about heading out in the world again. He wants me to meet him up in Rivain. Have no idea what he has planned for us there."

"So you won't be stopping by Skyhold first." Sinead drooped a little more.

"Not for some time." Krem gave her a grin. "Aw, it's not so bad. We'll come around again. So long as we're being paid by the Inquisition, Skyhold is home for us, too."

"I will be on my way as well," Tal-Ashkaari said. "I must return to Par Vollen. I have collected far more information than what I initially hoped for."

"Oh, yes. That makes sense. Then…everyone is going their own separate ways." Sinead smiled sadly at Cole. "I suppose we'll have to keep ourselves company on the way home."

Krem choked on his ale and coughed. Dorian and the Inquisitor looked at Sinead, then stared at Cole.

Sinead furrowed her brow. "What? What's wrong?"

"I am also confused," Tal-Ashkaari said.

"Come, my dear, I wish to read through some of your notes." Dorian stood and offered his arm to the Qunari woman. "We must make sure that you have the details about the magic correct."

"If you think that is necessary," Tal-Ashkaari said, befuddled. She took Dorian's arm and allowed herself to be led from the tent.

The Inquisitor eyed Krem. "I lost Bull's last report. Could you give me a copy of yours?"

"Absolutely," Krem said, jumping up from the table fast enough that the cups rattled. He and the Inquisitor fled the tent.

Sinead set her arm atop her sling and frowned at Cole. "What's going on?"

The hard part was here. He looked down at the table. "I'm not going back to Skyhold."

"…What?"

"Before Eluard was found – before everything – the Inquisitor asked me to join Charter's scouts. For special missions. Specific missions. Very long missions."

"How long?"

"…A year away from Skyhold. Maybe more."

He could feel her heart jump.

The words tumbled from his mouth. "I said yes – I knew you wouldn't mind, not then, not as much, you would know that I was helping, and you would have your library and everything would be fine and there would be missing and distance, but it would be okay. And then Eluard was found, and I promised to do this mission first – it wasn't supposed to be so long, a few weeks, maybe a month. And then." He looked up at her. "Things changed. I. I changed. And you. And us."

Sinead's mind was cartwheeling. "But the promise to join the scouts. That didn't change."

"No."

Her mind snapped back. She was hurt. Angry. In pain. "How could you not tell me? All this time –"

"At first, it was okay. We were still what we were, and it didn't matter. But the more time that passed, the more we – it was hard!" He was becoming flustered. The guilt he had hidden for some time came to the surface. "I couldn't say anything when you went Tranquil. I – couldn't watch you not care. And then we were alone, and it was – I didn't want to –"

"You didn't want me to pull away." Sinead placed her hand on her chest. "You didn't want me to keep from…getting closer to – oh, this really hurts." Her whole body was tense, like when she was about to panic. "When were you planning on telling me? When you were packed up and heading in a separate direction from me?"

"No! I wanted to – when you woke up, as soon as I could, I – oh, this is all going wrong."

He reached up to his necklace, unclasped it and pulled the little wooden charm he had carved free. He had finished it soon before Titus had captured them. The cylinder was now half an inch in length and made of delicate loops and knots.

Sinead paid no attention to this. She stood and staggered toward the tent's entrance.

"I need to be alone for a little bit," she said. "Need some air. We can – there's still time, the camp has to be packed – so little time…"

"Please wait," he pleaded, jumping up and blocking her path. He held the cylinder out to her. "Take an end."

Sinead blinked at him, but she did as he asked. He carefully turned the cylinder until there was a small snik and it came apart in two, distinct pieces.

Sinead's shock was momentarily forgotten. She smiled and held up her end of the cylinder. "This is what you were making? How clever, Cole! And so beautifully done."

"It's a bit big," he said bashfully. "For you, I mean. It's too small for me. I'll have to wear it on my necklace."

"A bit –"

"I don't think it will fit on any of your fingers. But –" He took her half and slipped it on her thumb. He turned it once, pleased. "It shouldn't slide off."

Sinead was stone still. "What is this, Cole?"

He squeezed her hand between his. The words were very hard to say, for some reason. And suddenly he was filled with fear. So much fear, and he was not sure why.

"Come with me." The words came from him breathlessly.

"What? But…I'm not a scout." Her mind seemed unable to process the request. "I'm a librarian."

"Yes. But you're also a healer." Excitement grew in his chest as he spoke. "I can only help people in one way. I can't heal hurts of the body. You can. You can help me help."

"I…my title is Lady Archivist." She was finally able to focus on him again. "Even if I wanted to become a healer, I think Josephine would deny me. The Inquisition doesn't need any more healers. And even if I did change positions, I wouldn't necessarily be sent off with a bunch of scouts."

"You're right." He shrugged. "But that's okay! You don't have to be part of the Inquisition."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "You're suggesting I…quit the Inquisition?"

"Yes."

"To run around adventuring with you and be a…a traveling healer or…"

"Yes!"

"But I –" She pulled her hand from his. "You heard Krem. I'm horrible at the whole adventuring thing!"

"You're not! I mean, you were, but you're not anymore. You did so much good – you healed me, and worked with the plague people, and helped me with little things and fought Purpose. And you can do so much more!"

"But…I'm a librarian," she said weakly.

This was not going as he hoped it would.

"I know," he said soothingly. "But you don't have to be. But – but if you want to stay in Skyhold, that's okay, too." It hurt him to say this, but he pressed on. "You can be who you want to be. You keep the ring, and know that wherever I am, I'm thinking of you."

She was no longer stiff. She softened, and her arm dropped to her side.

"Are you truly asking me to come with you because you think I can help? You don't think I'll get in the way?"

"Yes." He was relieved. Then he went shy. "And…well, and I – I don't want to miss you again."

She stared at him a moment. Her feelings were tangled and turbulent. So many things to consider, a whole different life, a whole different way of thinking of herself, a choice between missing and not, stable home or not – and then they were blocked by angry, stampeding druffaloes.

"I need – I have to think." She walked out of the tent.

He followed after her. "Sinead!"

"I have to think!" she snapped, holding up her hand as she stormed away.

"Hold up." Krem's hand landed on his shoulder, preventing him from pursuing Sinead. "This is one thing you can't help with. Not yet."

"But…she might say no," Cole said, crestfallen.

"Yep." Krem slapped him on the back. "Come on, have another drink with me."