Incorruptible

by super ginger

Alduin is dead. Purpose and duty fulfilled.Uthreida, Dragon Born, Yesimir of the North, is ready to return, But Tsun's shout is redirected, and finds herself in a land that is similar yet so very different from her home. Commander Cullen is hopeful for the future of the Inquisition. Until an unknown Dragon Slayer falls under his Command that makes him question everything he knows.

13. Chapter 13

Author awkwardly waggling a brow and leans over the thing your resting on* Hey there, stranger. Now that we know each other, let's get down to it. Reading. I mean. Reading. I'm sorry, please don't call HR.

I own nothing and do not gather any profit from this damn headache.

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Uthreida made it down the mountain on the back of Ragnar. Her full armor was causing some pain on her rib, but she had enough injuries to learn how to breathe through it. The dizziness though. Cullen would check over his shoulder to see her slow down and would slow the procession for her. She would offer silent thanks to his back, letting him think she didn't notice. The procession was odd to say the least. Four soldiers in front took point on horses then the Commander, at some insistence on his part, and separated by Overbridge in front of her. Captain Rylen was behind her and six other soldiers meandered down the mountain behind him. She shook her head at the procession. It was too much. Conant had said it was a peace talk and god worship festival…thing. Cullen really didn't trust them. Of course, she knew little to nothing of them and he was probably just being cautious.

She dismounted her horse when the others did. She looked up and realized it was dusk. Cullen passed his reigns to another soldier and walked to her. She patted the flash on Ragnar's forehead as he approached. Cullen looked about them with the eyes of a soldier who was expecting a flanked ambush. "You alright?"

"I'll be fine." She slipped Ragnar some apple bits that he ate greedily.

"We can turn back now." He said softly.

"We need them." She said calmly as another Soldier reached for her reigns. She passed them with a smiling nod. "They need us."

"If your injuries increase, let me know so we can-"

"Cullen." She waited until the soldiers were out of earshot. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" There was a curl of concern in his brow as he looked down at her.

Uthreida chuckled as she rolled her eyes. "Gods, I can't wait to see you and your firstborn. Mara grant patience to her."

Cullen scoffed as she passed. "You're welcome." His tone was dry and cutting.

"Come on." She took two steps but stopped. "Where are we going?"

He pointed vaguely before them to a small leather hut. Skywatcher appeared from the hut and placed his hood over his head. Grabbing his two-handed hammer as she approached. "Commander." He gave a nod which Cullen returned. "Lady," he bowed lower to Uthreida. She gave a patient smile but nodded to him. "Come," he held open the leather flap for the door and only looked at Uthreida.

She held up a hand. "That won't be necessary."

He tilted his head, his eyes going to Cullen then her again. "Slayer?"

"I will not dress down. Nor will you apply the paint."

Even with his mask and hood, she could see the confusion on his face. "I think there has been a miscommunication." He released the flap and stood to face her. "As a female deity of death, I, as a male, cannot touch you. They can." He waved a hand to the tent. "My sisters know the pattern that is to be applied to dress you like the Lady of the Skies."

Uthreida arched a brow. So, not so different from Skyrim holidays then. She gave a nod and took a step forward.

Cullen held up a hand to keep her back. His eyes squarely on Skywatcher. He looked over his shoulder and held up two fingers. "Two." Two male soldiers approached and stood ready.

"Females." Skywatcher said quickly.

Cullen arched a brow at the larger man but looked at his soldiers. "What's in there?"

Their eyes went to the larger Avvar then Cullen. Uthreida took an annoyed breath and entered. In the center of the hut, were two women in furs and cloaks sitting on straw and a few pillows for comfort. The smell of compact earth and smoke gave an eerie sense of familiarity. When they looked at her, they bowed their heads quickly. "Lady."

Uthreida arched a brow at them but stood at her full height. "Dovahkiin Uthreida Storm Blade." She said quickly to correct them.

The pale blonde looked to the tanned brunette on the right. "Not tonight, Lady. You are the Lady of the Sky."

The older brunette stood and approached her. Uthreida looked her over quickly and didn't notice any bruising on her face or visible skin from her thin clothes or leather and furs. "Are you slaves?"

The two women looked at one another and shook their heads. "No. We are sky watchers." The brunette said with a smirk. Uthreida arched a brow at her.

"We are healers." The blonde one still sitting said with a smile. "Come, you must be cleansed."

She looked to the two women and saw the bowls of water, paints, and salts. Uthreida sat before them but turned to look over her shoulder when the tent opened and Overbridge took in the sight of the slowly shrinking tent. "Are you alright, Lady?" Overbridge's voice was serious but she could see the curve of concern on the lieutenant's face.

"I'm not in danger if that's what you're asking. You can tell him that too." She jutted her chin to the door to indicate Cullen.

Catherine looked over her shoulder and nodded. Exiting the tent. Uthreida looked at the women who sat on either side of her. There was a look between them and Uthreida took a breath. It was no different than the holidays that are used to celebrate the Aedra and Daedra. The blonde looked at her armor and gave a polite smile. They wanted her to remove it. She looked down at her armor and the Inquisition tapestry on her leg. She could throw it on Ragnar during the ceremonies she supposed. She started with the belts.

The blonde woman held up a hand. "You only need to remove the upper armor."

"To show your heart." The brunette said.

Uthreida looked between the two of them. Checking the room for weapons quickly, she didn't see any in the small space. Though to be fair, she did see the Kyne festivals in Whiterun, and the priestesses were topless, but still wearing feathered shawls to hide their breasts. Maybe it's the same?

Uthreida looked at the two women and gave an apological smile. "What are your names?"

The blonde smiled at the question. "Gersemi."

The tanned brunette smirked. "Embala."

Uthreida started to unbuckle her armor. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps you can help me, what is a skywatcher?"

She jumped at first when they assisted, but slowly let them work on her armor. Gersemi held Uthreida's hand gently as she worked the vembracere. "Someone who watches the skies to see the signs of the Lady."

"We are shamans of the clan," Embala said as she worked on her other side. "Healers and spiritual advisors. We divine the meaning even if we lack the direct connections to the spirits."

Uthreida arched a brow and let them work. "So Skywatcher" she looked over her shoulder to indicate the half-giant.

Embala smiled curiously. "Amund?" She nodded. "He is a skywatcher as well. But he does not divine as we do. He's not a healer."

"Quite the opposite," Gersemi said with a smile, placing Uthreida's armor gently and ceremonially beside her. "He is a warrior first, and sky watcher second."

Uthreida looked between them with a smirk. They looked nothing alike. "I take it you two are from different clans?"

Gersemi nodded quickly. "I am from the Raven Rock clan to the north. Or, was."

Embala was slower in her actions as she unbuckled the pauldron and rerebrace. "Giants Bane to the west." Her voice held a regret. "I birthed many children for them. Cleaned wounds for them. Guided spirits and helped prepare the bodies for them."

Uthreida watched the older woman as tears started to prick her eyes. "What brought you to Karl Conant?" She met Uthreida's eyes but looked away. In her silence, Uthreida knew that she was the one who brought her. She looked at Gersemi and tilted her head to make her look at Uthreida. "What brought you to the mountain?"

The young blonde chewed her lip as she worked on the side buckles. "Thane Rolefisted attacked my clan, knowing our hunting grounds were now plagued by the angered spirits. A few of my people survived. We heard a rumor that there was a clan at the mountain that was taking in lost outsiders. The elders didn't survive the journey. But some of our warriors, hunters, and a few children did." She paused as she moved slower. "They argued on what to do. I told them the birds were moving south, even with ice upon us. So, we followed the Lady."

Uthreida nodded. Hearing her own story in theirs. "When I came here, I was faced with a choice. I saw the Hawk of Kyne and her breath push me towards the mountains. I thought she was the reason I came here."

Embala looked at her with parted lips. "Your Avvar too?"

Uthreida shook her head. "No. I am Nordic. Of the North. I hail from Skyrim. A land across the seas. And I believe that my people are your ancestors."

Embala looked at her as she worked on the buckling of her gorget. "You have returned? Truly?"

Uthreida gave a soft smile to the woman. "The why still escapes me. But I believe that we are blood. This land holds too many similarities for it not to be so."

Embala smiled as she looked away. They removed her armor and started to work on her jerkin when Catherine returned. She crossed her arms over her chest as she kept a skeptical eye on the two women. Uthreida smiled as she was wearing Cullen's expression.

With her armor, gambeson, undershirt, and smalls removed, the women stood. The brunette lit a bundle of herbs as incense that made Catherine sneeze. It was a combination of sage and some kind of grass. It was a strong scent, but oddly familiar that she couldn't place.

The two women began to chant as one cleansed the space and the other unbraided her hair. It was a throat song that didn't particularly have words. Or if they did, was so elongated that Uthreida couldn't make it out. The older brunette, Embala, stood above her and took the water on a black piece of cloth, and started to clean her body. The blonde woman pinned her hair and cleaned her back. It only took seconds for Uthreida to realize it was melted snow they were using. The cold water making her shiver slightly as the women worked. She let them work and remained still.

Gersemi started to work on pinning up her hair as Embala started to paint her arms in odd shapes in colors of blue and black. The women kept chanting as they worked and Uthreida started to find a rhythm in their song. She kept calm as the Gersemi moved behind her. Feeling the presence of Catherine and her dubious look.

Embala sat before her and rubbed the blue and black paint over her torso and breasts. Alternating colors with each swipe across her chest. Gersemi moved and started to apply paint to her back. Embala lifted Uthreida's chin and she watched closely as she smeared the black paint over her throat. She pushed Uthreida's forehead down and started to work on her face. Uthreida watched her as she smeared blue paint over her forehead and down her face just below her eyes. Using the black paint, she outlined her eyes sockets. The woman then dotted her cheeks three times in blue under the line she made of the blue.

The two women stood, chanting, and blowing the smoke of the incense onto her. Uthreida surmised they were trying to dry the paint. Their chanting growing louder with each passing stanza. Their song grew to a crescendo as both stood over her. Uthreida sat patiently for them. She had seen this once before when the priests of Mara were performing a ceremony. She waited. They clapped once over their heads and stood fast.

Both moved slowly and sat on either side of her. They wrapped some kind of leather around her arms and tied it off. Gersemi took a scarf and tied it around her neck. The end of the scarf coming to the middle of her chest and didn't hide a damn thing.

"My apologies." Uthreida stated as she touched the blonde woman's arm. She pulled back and tilted her head. Uthreida stood, removing the tapestry from her waist and tied the ends to it created a larger scarf over her chest that hit her knees.

The two women looked at one another. There was a look of concern between them. "The Lady is wounded," Gersemi said with a shrug to convince the other.

Embala seemed to consider but when she looked up at Uthreida, she dropped her eyes. "If that is what the Lady prefers." She gave a bow to her.

"It is."

The two nodded and stood slowly. "Lady of the Skies." They said in unison, "your people await." They moved and stood on either side of the doorway, awkwardly maneuvering around Catherine to make way.

Uthreida looked over her shoulder. "Gather my armor and put it on my horse." She said to anyone who would listen. The two women didn't move. Catherine grunted and gathered her armor for her. Uthreida ensured the placement of the weapons. Catherine placed her armor down and took the banner. The women's eyes went wide at her action. "You cannot touch her," Gersemi said cautiously. "She is a god. She cannot be touched."

Uthreida tilted her head. "And if I allow it?" In their lack of a response, she nodded to Catherine to do what she wanted. The lieutenant took the corners of the banner and tied them behind her so the weight of the fabric rested on her hips rather than her neck. Something she didn't think of. It hindered her capability to draw, but not impossible. "Thank you, Catherine." She gave a single nod and picked up the armor pieces, clothing, and helmet again.

Uthreida moved to exit and the two women opened the tent for her to exit unimpeded.

Uthreida held her chin high as she exited. She had seen these events back home but was never chosen as the maiden of the festival. It was odd to be seen like this. But a part of her was enjoying the authority of it. She carried herself like how she would imagine Kyne would. Regal, loving, and the god of death she was.

She exited and looked at the Solders. A few grunted a laugh while the others only gave a skeptical look. She looked at them with short patience and they slowly turned their gaze.

"Utha?"

She looked at the sound of Cullen's voice and looked him over. The lower part of his face was painted in the same blue to include his beard with three blue dots above each brow. His chest was exposed and wore his usual trousers. His sword hung on his hip. Leather was wrapped at his wrists and biceps. But on his chest was black paint over his heart with six white lines going across his chest. Three in diagonals on each side from shoulder to waist. His eyes widened as he looked at her torso. "Makers breath." He quickly removed his furred mantle. "It's freezing, what do you think you're doing?" He handed it to her, averting his eyes.

She looked at it with a comical brow. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Why are you naked?" He insisted as he pushed the furs to her again.

"Why are you painted?" She still refused the furs that were offered.

Heavy steps behind them made both of them turn to see Skywatcher look at them. He chuckled. He bowed his head. "Skymother." He bowed again to Cullen. "Mountain Father." She noticed a grimace cross Cullen's features. The large man held a hand open for them to follow.

"Why did he call you that?" Uthreida whispered to Cullen.

He opened his mouth to retort when a wolf whistle caught their attention. Rylen winked with a tongue click at his Commander who groaned.

"Because the Commander can't touch you, Skymother." Skywatcher said in front of them. "The Commander was eager to be at your side, but he can't protect. So, he nominated himself to act as Mountain Father for the evening."

"What?" Cullen demanded. "I never agreed to that. You said this was part of the festivities so I could protect."

"Exactly." He said over his shoulder. "As her husband."

Cullen groaned. "Andraste preserve me." He looked down at the blue paint on his torso and grunted. "Portrayed as a false god. Maker certainly has a sense of humor."

Uthreida sighed. "Thank you."

He grunted again. "I didn't mean-"

"I know." she gave a small laugh. "This is close to what we do back home for holidays. The paint, while usually only on the face, and the no touching rule so as not to defile the gods. The naked bit though." She looked at the knitted banner over her chest and smirked.

Cullen nodded but looked at Skywatcher. "So, for how long am I going to be a heretic? My parent's ashes are being sent into the winds as it is."

"Few hours." Skywatcher turned to look at them. "As you know, you'll be portraying gods. Our gods." He gave a heated look at Cullen who put the furred mantle back on. "Even if you don't know the stories, you can still play the part. Carry yourself with that sense of air." Both gave a bored look at the larger man. "Smiles." They didn't. "Or not. It suits you better." The large man turned and pointed the head of his hammer to the ground and started to hit. It was soft, then grew in strength after every second hit. Deepening, louder, like a cadence of a large creature walking. The sounds of the festivities slowly growing quieter.

A silent moment passed the camp and Skywatcher turned to look at them. He tilted his head for them to proceed. "Hand in hand." Uthreida took Cullen's arm. He looked down at her quickly but sighed. Bending his arm and holding her hand for comfort, even if his own hand was shaking. Skywatcher made a face of approval and tilted his head. "Go on. Conant will lead you."

Uthreida took a deep breath and held her shoulders back. Cullen shook his free hand to prepare for whatever was beyond the tree line. They stepped off together and walked.

"This is by far the most asinine thing I've ever done."

She chuckled. "I'm aware Sky Father."

He shot her a glair. "Mountain Father."

"Right." She said embarrassed as they reached the last tree.

He gave a laugh. "Mountain mother." He said to her mix-up.

She shared a laugh, internally blaming the concussion but had to clear her throat when the bonfires came into view. Both removed their smiles as the people started to line up to see them.

Cullen stopped and looked at the camp of thirty people who all stared at them. "What do we do?"

She paused, uncertain herself. "Waive?"

"Doesn't seem godly?"

She took a breath and stepped towards the crowd. Cullen was forced to follow her descent into the barbarian abyss.

She watched as they bent low to her. Each kneeling to her passing. She looked at Cullen who was thinking strategically. Looking for an out, weaknesses, and advantages. But all she could feel was the heat in her chest as the dragons were satisfied at the supplication. The heat making her want to remove the banner from her chest.

She heard the sound of the soldiers behind them, standing guard and taking the perimeter of the camp.

They walked. She noticed the tents were set up in a circular pattern. In the center, were three bonfires in a triangle. And in the center was a low table spread with scrolls, furs, tankards, and four wooden stumps for seats.

They stopped with they reached the center. The people stayed bowed. She didn't need to look around to know what to do. "Rise, my children. Rise." The people came to their feet but kept their eyes adverted from the couple.

"Lady of the Sky." They turned to see Conant with his red twin braided beard and red braided Mohawk walk towards them with his head bowed. He looked confused at Cullen for a moment. "Korth, the Mountain Father. Welcome." He gave a deep bow. "I am Karl Conant. I have gathered and lead this clan. Thank you for joining us this night." He bowed again.

Uthreida looked to the crowd and smiled. "I am delighted to see the children well and in good hands." The predatory instincts rose in her. She wanted to build this small army. But she took a breath. Master the heart, control the blood. She looked at the blue paint of Cullen who was watching the crowd. His mortality. Her mortality. "I know many of you have been ripped from your homes." She said loudly to address the crowd. "That many of you have lost your families. Your friends. Children and loved ones. And in your desperation, you came to the mountain fortress of Skyhold." She held a hand to her chest, showing the people that it was secrete to her, as the Lady of the Sky. "Each of you holds a story of a tragedy that has befallen your lands. It is our hope that tonight, we will find the means of peace, for our people. For all of our children. To push the darkness back."

"And follow a false profit." A single male shouted over the crowd.

"Strun" Uthreida shouted to the location of the interloper interrupted. The cloudless skies echoed with the sound of thunder. Cullen's neck almost broke looking to the sky. His arm tightening around hers. When no one interrupted again, she took a breath, letting the thunder die out on its own in a few seconds.

Cullen removed her hand and took a step forward. "You will not be removed of religious rights. For it is that unity, the uniqueness of…our people… that will be needed to create the next era of peace. And harmony. Of all peoples."

She moved so she stood to his back to address the other half of the crowd. "We ask that you take up arms against your most ancient enemy. A northern Tevinter has traveled south. He carries grandeurs of godhood. He promises freedom under the subjugation of the forced infection of the blight. Each of you will be slaves to build towers and monuments to this false god. But together," she turned to address the other crowd, "with the aid of the Lowlanders, of the Inquisition, can we ensure the safety and sanctity of life of all free folk. From mountain to mountain. From coast to coast. All will be free. Will you, my children" she stepped towards the closest ones, "sharpen your blades, prepare your shields, and seek peace in your heart. To have honor on your tongue and valor in your souls. So that the ancient lands may be returned to you once more. Will you aid us to cleanse these lands of corruption? Will you, brothers and sisters of the mountain, end this tyranny?" She yelled to the crowd.

A loud unified cry rang over the small clan. Her heart beat faster as a smile curled at her lips. They will be legion. Her legion.

"Will you fight?" Cullen yelled, his hand fisted to the crowd. They again cried in unison of devotion. "For your gods, for your people, for your lands?" he yelled louder. And louder the people rejoiced. "Raise your shields."

Swords and shields were raised to the sky as the sound of a small barbarian horde enclosed them. Celebrating the promise of victory.

Conant took a step forward, his hands held out to silence the clamor of his people. He approached them, shooting Uthreida a comical look, but smirked. He looked to his people. Slowly gauging them. And smiled. "Until Ragnoroc," he shouted with a fist to the air. They gave a guttural sound of approval, of the union. "Until the Halls of Korth." they made the same sound of unison. Conant looked to the two and bowed slowly. "Join us." He turned his back and walked.

The two shared a look, hoping this just went the way they wanted it to. They took the others arm and they followed Conant to the center table. Conant stood back and allowed them to choose their seat.

Cullen directed she take an outside seat to the right of the table. He took the one next to her. Conant waved a hand to the crowd as they all started to disburse. Two approached. One she recognized as Didreik. His slightly tanned skin and dark hair braided back to his skull and seemed to have recovered from the arrow to the foot given his gait. Also approaching was another. Long light brown hair pulled back to a single short point. The sides of his head were shaved to display tattoos of vines or wind and a wolf. The wind motif moved lower to his chest and was displayed by his furred shrug. A wolf's teeth were tied into a thong of leather like a multiple chained necklace. In his hands was a drum. Didreik took the seat next to Conant with a gapped smile as he averted his eyes. "Lady of the Sky. Thank you for visiting us. The people rejoice to know their souls will be carried and welcomed into Korths Halls."

She nodded as another brought a tray of bread, pickled fish, thin slices of cheese, and a jug of mead. Cullen turned his nose to the smell of the fish. And she almost gagged at the smell of the mead.

"We don't have much," Conant leaned into Cullen. "But a small sacrifice to the gods is required." He nodded to Cullen to give a direction. Cullen nodded to the server who smiled at his notice of them. "Wolf Song" the other man looked over as Conant rolled a hand for him to do something. The man gave a nod and stepped off to the center. He tapped the drum like a war cadence and started to sing. The low melody with slight gravel to his voice was interesting. Unique to him specifically. Uthreida felt herself smile at the lyrics. An ode to happier times. To honorable oaths. To feast and family. To mead and laughter.

"Sounds familiar," Cullen whispered to her. "It sounds like our hymns. The Dawn Will Come."

She shushed him as she was filled with compulsion as she listened. His song soothed even the most dominating of souls. His song ended and he gave a bow. Uthreida watched him as the skald moved around the camp, singing and drinking with the people.

Conant took the bread and pulled it in half, flattening it in his hands. "So, Korth" he shot a brow at Cullen as he reached for a slice of cheese to put on his bread. "We've heard your proposal and have discussed it with the clan. Some see this as a means to rid your mountain of Avvar. Others see it as a means of unilateral gathering that will threaten the people and the world. Either way, they agree to help in any way that we can." He laid a pickled fish on the bread and rolled it, taking a bite. "We have an idea, but we have questions."

"The operation is simple enough," Cullen stated quickly as Conant filled the tankers of the frothy brew. "We need you to broker peace with the other clans and find one to two paths through the mountains to move troops."

Conant looked at Cullen's hands. "The Avvar will not submit to the Chantry and I will not kill my few numbers for a fruitless war."

"We're not asking for domination. Alliance only. The Avvar tribes have choked our people in the mountain passes and prevented our movements and supply lines. If we're going to defeat Corypheus, the true enemy, we all need to be aligned."

Conant rubbed his hands to get the crumbs of the bread off. "And why would the Avvar help you knowing the land is becoming corrupted? That the Sky wounds are birthing angered spirits? That their own people suffer from the war and see easy gold, food, and weapons to protect their people by raiding your supply lines? What can you offer to the people?"

Cullen sighed. "We've discussed this."

"Not in front of the people."

Cullen's eyes looked to the crowd that was watching the table. Uthreida noticed that while they seem to go about their day and engage with the feast, they kept looking at them. Subtly.

Cullen took a breath and sat up straighter. "If you can help us, with the help of the Avvar, we could extend our supply lines through the mountains. But we need the passes and their allegiance to start. If the clans you meet have no way to cross the mountains or unwilling to lead through the mountains away from trade routes, they can act as eyes and ears in case Venatori or Red Templars cross."

Conant took a drink, the mead falling into his beard as Didreik looked more concerned than anything. "Your Sky mender, Inquisitor, is a busy man. When would he be able to help the people?"

"Our main concern right now is putting Corypheus down. After the war efforts, if you can map locations of fade rifts we can certainly look into it once this is done."

Conant took a breath and leaned back, holding his tankard over crossed arms. He chewed his lip in thought. "What's the time frame for that?"

Cullen took a deep breath, a sense of regret filled her lungs. "We don't know. But, gathered from reports, the fade rifts opened during the breach. Since it has been sealed, no new rifts have opened. What rifts you map shouldn't increase. And provided the people keep their distance, they should be safe. My scouts report that the demons can't venture too far from the rifts as they don't have a physical hold over the land. Keep your men and civilians three hundred meters from the rifts for safety. Once the rifts are mapped, we can send troops and Templars to stop the demons while the Inquisitor closes the rifts."

"After the war."

"Yes."

"That you don't have a time frame of."

Cullen sucked his teeth. "Correct."

Conant looked to Didreik and both shared a look of disinterest. Uthreida leaned forward. "We believe the bulk of Corypheus's forces have been pushed out of Ferelden and are now amassing in Orlais. The Civil War there blinded the locals from the enemy. With the war in Orlais lifted, we can see the truth of the matter. "Cullen widened his eyes to her to make her stop talking. "We need you to find paths through the mountains so our men can move to the enemy without sight. A commonality, an alliance, between Chantry forces and Avvar would be unheard of in these times and could allow the enemy to underestimate us. With Corypheus pushed to the west, our plan of attack is to press and cut off his ability to run north by cutting off Nevarra as an option using the sea. Horse shoe him in Orlais as we descend onto his position and give him no room to run."

Conant arched a brow at her. He leaned forward and pulled a rolled parchment. It revealed a map of southern Thedas with markers already placed. "This camp has members from six different clans. Each has memory and knowledge of other clans across the mountains." He pointed to the dots on the map above the Frost backs. "We know the location of some. We can travel to these clans to sing the praises of the Inquisition, however, without a promise of protection, without promise of supplies, I don't know how well they will work with us. Even then, with the harshness of war, they're just as likely to kill us on sight than speak. So, aside from empty promises, what does the Inquisition offer?"

Cullen opened his mouth but Uthreida beat him. "These people have been ravaged by the enemy. We promise them retribution."

Conant smirked. "Calm down, dragon. Haakon's breath is already upon us. Inciting more death may not be the best choice."

Cullen breathed, running a hand across his beard and remembered the paint. "What do you need?"

"What are we allowed to offer?" Didreik said. "What can we give under your name?"

Cullen took a breath and Uthreida wondered if he had a chance to think this through. With Lady Josephine in Lydes, did he really know what he was offering? "If they are willing to comply with safe or escorted paths through the mountains, we can offer supplies, weapons, and closing the rifts to the land once the war is over."

Conant arched a brow. "You know they'll want that in writing with a blood seal from the Inquisitor?"

"I'll seal it," Uthreida stated.

Cullen groaned. "No, you won't." He looked at her with a brow and she remembered her contract was over after Corypheus and his dragon were killed.

"Even if you could, Lady of the Sky. You are the one wounded by this. You cannot promise to heal yourself." He turned to Cullen. "The problem is," Conant broke the eye contact between them, "Lowlanders carry honor like a shirt that's thrown away when it gets too thin. Gold will not suffice this. And you only have one man that can close these rifts. You expect me to believe that once the Sky Mender saves the world and receives the praise and accolades of the other low landers that he will continue to close the rifts until he is old and due his death?" Cullen's jaw clenched. His silence saying more to the truth than he dare speak against. "Greed corrupts all, Korth. As your stories have shown."

Cullen blew out a breath and Uthreida knew he was at a breaking point. "Will you help us or not."

"We intend to," Didreik said quickly to quite the brewing resentment. "However, it will be difficult for us to gather allies if we have nothing to give."

Conant leaned back. "We cannot gather allies if we have nothing to offer. They may take our word, but the promise of a low lander is worth less. Even then, the stronger holds would not be affected by the Sky Wounds. And the weaker ones may be too desperate to assist. So, what can we offer?"

"Home." She said without a thought. "Your home." She looked at the camp and the ones who lived there. The sound of a child's laugh rising over the crowd.

"And become the new war Thane Gold-Handed?" Conant gave a skeptical look. "Such actions are not remembered in the best light."

Cullen sighed and she could tell he was hitting his limit of patience of negotiating. "What do you suggest?"

Didreik smirked with Conant and spoke. "The Avvar people do not accept charity as Korth gives us what we need. However, the smaller clans may be eager to accept outside help. They could also be of the most use to us. To do this, we'll need resupply of foods, weapons, and general goods to appeal as gifts from Korth. It also comes with the understanding that this will not be a one-time deal. The alliance will last until your inquisitor can mend the Sky Wounds. They will hold you to what you offer until completion of your bargain."

Uthreida felt the weight of Cullens groan. But she also knew what they were saying. Cullen, as usual, took it all at face and didn't read between the lines. "If Korth provides, we will not give charity, we will trade. With a discount on information they provide soldiers. Upon services rendered of maps and passage through the mountains, we can exchange gold, food, or weapons of their choice."

Conant arched a brow but she ignored Cullen's glair. "So the Avvar need a face for the Inquisition. My face."

She smiled. "Your name will be one spoken of, not your face. That said," she moved the map to make her point, "we need at least two passes through the mountains. One to the far north," she pointed near Orzommar, "and one south" she pointed to the west of Redcliff." If you can secure passes not marked on any map, we can reward you."

Cullen opened his mouth to argue. "How?" Conant asked.

"If you ally the smaller clans, as you have suggested, they move with you. Increasing your title in the land as a leader of the free folk. But, you could also set up a new hold with these free folk in the areas that you explore. Your hold will be the one the Inquisitor frees from the demons first."

Conant gave a bored look at her. "And, you, Mountain Father. What do you offer the people?"

He shot her a look but sat up. "I can speak to my men. Let me know where you intend to set up and I can contact parties in the area that will work with the Avvar and you for resupply and negotiations of the people. Again, we cannot be seen warring with your people. Present it as it is. We are willing to trade if they are willing to provide information to the Inquisition. Good information."

Conant smirked and blew from his nose in amusement. His eyes shifted to Uthreida. "For the Lady, they wouldn't dare lie." He tilted his chin to her. "This is your doing isn't it? This is all your idea? Gathering the Avvar under your banner?"

"The Inquisitions banner, Aye. Under the command of the guardian, aye." He looked unamused. Uthreida sighed at the man. "I told you, this is your land. Not mine. Your armies are not mine. Your prophecy isn't mine. But it can be yours." Conant arched a brow at her. One Cullen mimicked.

Conant chuckled at their silent disagreement but leaned forward in the map. "There is a third option." He tapped the lower of Orlais. "We have one, from the Sunless lands. Claims he came here to investigate the Sky Wound. But by the time he arrived, it was sealed. But, he claims to know the southern mountains. Claims he's a prince or something of the like. Point is, we can look into it. Map a trail for your men through the Sunless lands. Moving south, no one will ever see you coming. Not even Orlais."

Uthreida looked at the map with a sense of appreciation but Cullen cut his hand across the air. "Out of the question."

Conant leaned back with a smirk, his arms crossing over his chest. "As you say, Korth. We will stay in the mountains we know. It's more dangerous. More gold, but as you say. Send word to your lowlanded army. Tell them to be ready for trade. The best we can offer is pelts. They may be stingy to part with the ice season upon us. In the meantime, I'd like a letter. From you, Korth, allowing me to take three-day supplies for my people, at my convenience."

Cullen took a deep breath, the lines in his brows deepened as he looked at the redhead. Uthreida smiled politely. Knowing this wasn't a mediation but rather getting the answers they will be asked by the other clans. "Of course. But the ale has gone to my head."

"You have yet to drink." Conant noticed.

"Walk with me." She whispered to Cullen. She gave a skeptical look at her but confirmed with the Avvar.

Conant offered them mead for their tankards and waved a hand. "It is expected that you would wish to walk amongst the people." He gave a nod and drank his own mead. Uthreida stood, holding her hand out to him. He stood slowly and met her with a cooling glair.

He grunted as they walked. "Why did you pull me away?" He growled at her.

She smiled into her tankard and kept her eyes on the people. "You were getting nowhere. To reconvene, new strategy. What do you see?" He scoffed and turned back to the table. Uthreida held his hand to stop him. When he pulled, she moved so his arm wrapped over her shoulders. "What do you see?" She guided him back in her direction.

He grunted and rolled his eyes. "Hovels." He stated quickly.

"We've seen a strong hold, Cullen. Of a strong clan. Who saw the Inquisition as a means of favor even if it was against their religion."

Cullen scrunched his face at her, the blue dots on his brow making a straight line. "That Thane attacked the hold with goats."

"I've heard." She whispered as they circled a bonfire. "Live goats. They were a gift."

"A gift?"

"A goat is milk. A goat is fur. A meal. Horns, weapons. Gold. A goat, in the mountains, is life." She smiled at a group of boys who were watching them but ran away with peals of laughter as she looked at them. "We know they are willing." She lowered his hand from her shoulder so they walked hand in hand. "They want to help, but they need help, but they can't ask. And the people they want to help can't ask either. They will be skeptical of any gift that is given. But," she smiled as she looked at him, "they bring up a good point. Royoc is the only one who can close the rifts. Seeing as how he refuses to be seen as the bad guy, you could play this to your advantage. That the coffers will continue to run dry due to contracts that Josephine will have to fill until he cleanses the lands. Even as he straddles the world, those who question the intent of the Inquisition will bring up the point that he favors his meal of power over his duties and obligations to the people that he claims to serve. For aren't even the barbarian's children of the Maker?"

He scoffed. "It's a few barbarians. No one will care."

"The people will care. How he treats those below him shows how he views the world and the people in it." An older woman passed them with a smile as her eyes adverted. "You could have your pass through the mountains and Royoc would be forced to agree for his name."

He made a disgusted sound. "You sound like Josephine."

"This is the time to think like Josephine." She stopped him on the premier. "Cullen. You left the Templars because the people needed help. You want to help."

"Don't-"

"You are in a position where you can."

He scoffed. "How? Pray tell. How do I-"

"Do as they ask. Have faith."

He scoffed. "How do you know they won't just take and run?"

She took a deep breath to retort that these were her people. Their honor is their word, but they weren't. And she didn't know. She sighed lamely. "I don't but-" she shook her head. "They want to help their people. You" she looked at the table at the two leaders, Skywatchers taller frame walked about the camp. "I believe we can trust them. And they are no good to us hiked up here. They're not effective lesions if they don't speak to their people."

He shook his head. "This was a fool's errand. I was entranced at the idea of it. I didn't even think of the gold, the resources required for this."

"Good faith, Commander. It can go a long way." She smiled as she looked away, thinking of the first time they met. "Do you remember when we first met?" He groaned. "You didn't believe in my faith at first."

"It's still in question."

She smiled even as he looked away learning his tells. She slid her hand into his and squeezed. "It'll work." The reality of the possibility of betrayal from a people she didn't know. Her standing. She clenched her jaw. "It has to."

He squeezed her hand tighter. And she realized how tightly she was hanging on. His eyes went to the table then back at her. "You had better put the fear of whatever god that is in you into them. Do you understand?"

She looked up at him, seeing the release of control allowed. The blue paint smeared his chin and brows and she smirked. She looked to the soldiers that stood around them and his position. "We are both in a position to achieve our goals. But it's going to take trust. That can be resented by your word at any time."

He took a deep breath and eyed the camp. She saw him thinking of the fall out in the silence between them. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Say I can trust you. Because this" he looked at his paint-stained hand, "is one hell of a leap of faith."

She took his hand and placed it to her heart. "You can trust me."

His eyes were made golden in the light of the fire. A deep breath mixed with the colder air created a fog between them. He released her hand to hold her by the back of her neck, his thumb resting on her cheek. He took another breath. His thumb moving to her throat with a snarl in his nose. He breathed again, pulling her closer so he could rest his forehead on hers. His thumb moved back to her cheek and he took another deep breath. "Secure our position, I'll secure the gold."

"Done." Cullen leaned back and nodded. She tried to fight the smiling at the large blue dot on his forehead mixed with the other six smaller dots on his brow. His eyes moved to the small clan of the elderly, the weak, and a few warriors. She tilted his chin to look back at her. "I'll take care of it." He looked skeptical but looked on. "Let's finish this walk."

They walked the camp, counting and calculating what Karl Conant would need to complete his endeavors. Smaller children would run to Uthreida and offer flowers where some of the women would smile bashfully at Cullen only to laugh in their hands. An older woman passed, bowing to Uthreida slightly. "It is good to see his heart returned, Lady." Unsure of the story, she smiled politely and bowed in agreement. When the woman passed, Cullen looked confused at her and she shrugged mildly.

"Commander?" Both turned to see Rylen approach with a skeptical look. "Are you ready?"

Cullen ran a hand through his hair and remembered the paint on it. Rylen shot a look at Uthreida. She looked at the captain and smirked. "Captain, how do you feed a starving man, who will not ask for food?"

Rylen looked at her then Cullen. He smirked. "Negotiations aren't going well, huh?"

Cullen scoffed. "They may or may not help if we can or cannot close the rifts in the mountains."

Rylen looked at them again. "And?"

Cullen grunted, "Do you have any idea how much gold that is?"

Rylen lowered a brow. His lip twitched in uncertainty as he looked the commander over. His blue eyes shifted to Uthreida and she looked at him suspiciously. He's hiding something. Rylen exhaled and shifted his weight closer to the Commander. "The solution is easy enough. We can falsify the numbers of personnel in the camp by two to four. This will allow us the justification of increased food, arms, and supplies to those camps to act as charity cases for the people who want or need it. If the Avvar use those camps for resupply for the clans, it should allow them to offer some" he looked at Uthreida with a smirk, "food for the starving."

Cullen's heated glair at his Captain filled the air hotter than the fires. "That's embezzlement and misappropriation."

"Only if the misappropriated money goes back in your pocket. Besides, several of the camps" he mumbled something that she didn't pick up but Cullen clearly did as he took a threatening step towards Rylen. The Captain stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at his friend.

"That gold isn't ours."

"The people need it while the nobles horde it. Cullen," he took a step but looked at Uthreida with angered glair. "Leave us."

"No." She said lowly with a smile.

Cullen glared. "Leave."

"No." She said again, tucking her shoulder under his arm. Whatever this gossip was, she wanted in on it.

Rylen snorted but kept his assault. "Cullen, we left Kirkwall because the Mother cared more for gold than her people. We left the Templars Because we saw the infection in the ranks for what it was. We joined the Inquisition to help. To raise the people. We stayed to see the Chantry return. Every man shall give as he is able, according to the blessing of your God which He has given you."

Cullen arched an annoyed brow. "I can't believe you're using that line." He shook his head in resignation. "What they ask from us is not what I can offer."

"They know," Uthreida said softly. "But what they can offer to the clans, is hope."

Rylen nodded. "Either we help them, or they do." He jutted his chin behind Cullen to indicate their enemy.

Cullen's eyes pierced his friend. "Why didn't you tell me before?" He whispered.

He shrugged. "You can't be held accountable for what you don't know. But I've told the other officers that the 'charity fund' cannot exceed three 'personnel' and those who need cannot stay for more than two days."

"How long has this been going on?"

Rylen gave a pained look. "Four months, at least."

Cullen rolled his eyes and sighed. "Do you have any idea how much money that is?"

"Do you know how many lives we saved? How many converts? How many recruits?" Rylen's smirk was enough to make Uthreida smile at whatever hidden knowledge he had. "Considering you didn't know, means Nightingale never told you. Meaning, she agrees. And is probably keeping it hush even from Lady Josephine."

Cullen glowered at the thought but had to let it go. Uthreida gently shrugged her shoulder into his arm. "Looks like the gold is secured."

He grunted in agreement. "So be it." He tilted his head to the table. "Secure it."

She gave a slow nod and turned from the Commander and the Captain. She walked back to the empty table. Conant caught her approach and smiled as he walked towards her. He gave a low bow. "Lady."

"Karl Conant." She held a hand out to him to take. He raised a hand to decline but held a hand to his heart in empathy. She nodded, knowing he wasn't allowed to touch her right now as the Lady of the Sky. "Forgive me." She waved a hand to the table for him to join her. "Korth?" She asked silently to remember her role in this. He gave a single nod. "Korth and I believe that it is possible to assist you on your peaceful mission. However, we require assurance on your end."

"Of course." He grunted as he sat.

"You understand steel may win battles but gold wins wars, aye? We need to ensure that supplies taken will be used for charity, or Korth gifts, to the people."

"Aye. That was the plan."

She smirked as she sat next to him. "And what's the plan for your inevitable betrayal?"

He looked at her, his blue eyes smiling as he took a drink. "So little faith, Lady." He wiped his beard and crossed his arms. "To tell you the truth, hadn't thought that far ahead."

She gave a slow smile. "We both know the oppression this religion offers. But that's not the deal now. We need the Avvar to lead us across the mountains. Unseen. And in exchange, your people are being offered resources that the Chantry has. Keep in mind, you will not be given men. I would suggest you forego raiding the clans, and only seek peace and trade with them."

He arched a brow and sighed. "I'm aware of what he wants. I'm aware of what my people need. I'm also aware of your stance on the matter."

"Then I assume it goes unsaid that flagrant misuse of the charity goods provided will not be tolerated. By you or your men."

"I got it."

Uthreida arched a brow. He seemed genuine but was hard to read given her lack of information on him or his culture. She decided on the safe route. "Gol hah dov." She whispered while looking at him. Conant's eyes glazed as he sat perfectly still. With a whisper, she could only demand one action. She needed to word this to make it count. "If during this alliance, you act or discover something that would make Commander Cullen Rutherford question your honorable character, you will report to him personally."

He nodded slowly. A tinge of fear creeping into his eyes.

She nodded with him and severed the spell. He looked at her with wide eyes and a face that demanded blood payment. His hand went to his weapon. "Ah" she warned. "Peace talks, remember?" His eyes danced over her with a look of hatred. "Don't betray us, Karl Conant. Korth's fury is nothing compared to my wounded pride." She finished softly with a smirk.

His look of anger shifted to fear. "We had every noble intention-"

"Good. The people need it. Let it guide you."

He shook his head. "The people will know what you have done."

"Keeping honorable men honorable? For shame."

He took a deep breath and scowled into his tankard. "I imagine you've been betrayed by everyone you know if you can't even seek the intentions or the hope of this camp in helping our brothers and sisters with the Inquisitions backing. That you would go so far as to compel me into acting like one of them." He jutted his chin to the Inquisition soldiers.

She gave a slow nod. "We don't know each other. And you know he will cut ties the second there's a complication. This new compulsion will ensure that both sides maintain their promises."

He chuffed with a shake of his head. "Interesting you bound me to him and not you."

"You are suspicious of me. But he's a good man. He can listen when he has to. He can be reasoned with. Once character has been established."

"You sound like a dutiful wife, Lady." He said with a smirk.

One she matched. "I am a dutiful wife, Karl. Do not think your game of embarrassment from your fathers out maneuvering will work on me." He smiled as he looked away from her. His silence saying more to her guilt than anything. "When this alliance ends, you will no longer be bound. Understood?"

"Aye." He looked to his people with a calculating eye. Already planning his betrayal to rid himself of the order.

"Karl" he looked at her with a cooling rage. "I want you to succeed. We need you to succeed. And we are willing to offer what we can. And this alliance will benefit your people greater than what you can see now. They deserve their lands back from this corruption. They-"

"Will you be silent already?" He stated tersely. "I know. And if I alone have to carry this, I will. For them. For the other Avvar who are now without home or people, or hope. I will carry this, Mother. For them."

His anger reverberated in his chest, but she smiled as she looked into his determined eyes. A stubborn determination like the Nords of her homeland. "Thank you."

He took a drink from his tankard. "Those with honor have no fear, Lady of the Sky. You taught us that."

She smiled as she looked at him. Feeling guilty for forcing his hand and knowing it was unnecessary to give into the dragon lust. Familiar footfalls caught her attention as she turned to see Cullen approach. His piercing eyes held a question. She nodded to him letting him know it was complete. He took the seat on her other side. "You need a letter?"

Conant looked between the two, his eyes lingering longer in resentment towards her. "Aye."

Cullen removed his side pouch as he requested parchment, quill, and ink. All three were ready at the table before them. The three sat in silence as his heavy hand scrawled out a letter quickly and he signed. He blew on it to set the ink. "This will allow you to draw provisions, weapons, and supplies for ten personnel as needed." He heated the wax stick from his pouch, not noticing the look of question from Conant. "It also allows you to draw pay of one royal a week per man creating ten royals a week or forty royals a month. It's expected that the provisions drawn will be for charity and you will pay for the needs of you and your men." He set the wax on the paper and readied his flaming eye seal with two swords below it. "I'm assuming a clan of thirty personnel, that you will take a third with you on this endeavor and allow the others to stay behind as they won't be able to move with you through the mountains?"

Conant crossed his arms and leaned back. "We were planning eight in the party. Two hunters, a smith, four warriors, and a leader."

Cullen placed his seal over the wax but nodded. "I'll allow no more than ten. If this goes well, you can pick up a follower or two at the next clan." He replaced his seal and wax in his pouch and handed the letter to Conant. "You're effectively receiving the pay of a lieutenant without the rank." Conant scanned the letter with an arched brow but Uthreida lowered her own. She began to question if she knew anything of the economics of the land she was in. Back home during peace times, one septim was enough for a loaf of bread. During the war, was two. Either Conant was being short-changed and didn't know, or the royal was actually worth more than a septim. And she's been blowing her gold without reprisal. She looked at Cullen and wanted to ask, but the serious demeanor in his expression, and the forced removal earlier, she decided that now was not the best time.

Conant folded the letter and placed it in a pouch on his side. He nodded and lifted his tankard with a smirk to the two. "Agreed." He said softly. He stood, lifting his tankard for the crowd to see. "Warriors," he called, "ready yourself. For the gods walk with us in this life, and the next." There was an odd cheer that filled the crowd between excitement and throat chants at a high pitch.

Conant smiled as she looked at the two. He gave a bow, his hand over his heart. "We are honored to bring the blessings to the people in this time of collective need. Drink." He lifted his tankard and gulped the mead.

Uthreida lifted her tankard to the Karl but Cullen touched her arm, shaking his head slowly. "Skaal." She smiled and took a sip. Remembering the harshness then sweet aftertaste of their odd mead. Cullen sighed and lifted his tankard to his lips but didn't drink.

Footsteps approached from the rear and Uthreida and Cullen both turned to see the skald approach with a bowed head. His form bent slightly as he knelt before them. "Mighty Mountain Father. Perfect poet. I am Halgerir Wolf Song. If I may, we have observed you and the Lady tonight. And in observance of the gods, I have been beseeched by a muse that has overtaken me. May I share with you, Song Minister."

Cullen looked at her with a quirked brow of uncertainty as the skald stayed knelt, keeping his eyes averted from them. Uthreida looked to Conant who gave no indication of what they should do. She looked back at Cullen with a sheepish smile but nodded. A song was life and, apparently, Korth was the father of poetry. Cullen lifted a hand to the Skald. "Sure." He said, unsure of how to be godlier at that moment.

Halgerir nodded and Uthreida saw the wide smile cross his face as he turned his back to them. A lute in his hands as he sat on the ground before them. Cullen looked at her again with a skeptical brow and she resisted the urge to shrug at the odd culture.

Halgerir plucked the strings. It was lively in his composition but slow in the timbre. Uthreida felt herself being pulled into the music with each mid stanza pause and triplet descent. His deep, rasping voice shook her and she turned fully to hear his song. He sang low as only they would hear, but judging from the crowd, they were being watched. Of how his heart was made of stone until he saw his lover. How every breath he took was for them.

His voice rose as he sang the chorus. The same plucking of the lute made her heart swell at the consistency even if his voice changed in pitch. How he wanted his lover to fall into him. To change him, be with him, and to calm the world within so they could share the sky and seas. So eager to relieve himself of his own heart. Giving it to his lover.

Uthreida smiled as she watched the skald from the rear. It had been so long since she heard a proper heart song. She felt each pluck of the strings on her fingers as if she was the one playing. Wolf Song was talented beyond technical skill and made her lose her logic in his music.

Cullen's hand slipped into hers and her trance was broken as she looked at him. His eyes were only on the ground where Halgerir sat. She smirked at him but returned her attention to the Skald. He sang of the beauty he loved. How they were bathed in the moon, full of emotions, beautiful, with a loving heart. She smiled at the idea. How lucky he must be.

Wolf Song began the choirs again of wanting to fall into them. Cullen's hand moved. His fingertips grazing her palm. An odd flop occurred in her stomach as she set her eyes to only look at the musician. Pretending to not notice the light trails his fingers left on her wrist as if he was following her veins. She remembered all those months ago how this was different. He held her wrist to feel her heart for a lie. Could he feel her heart now? Did he feel the increased pulse? Could he feel her loneliness? The ache this caused? Could he feel the indecision of her wanting to stop but tantalized at the idea of getting closer? Coupled with the entrancing lute, she enjoyed this trap. This moment she didn't want to escape from.

She looked at Cullen quickly. The paint on the lower half of his face masked any notion of blush as he kept his eyes on the back of the skald. His fingers stopped roving. Staying completely stationary. She dropped her gaze trying to listen to the lute again but only heard the hammering of her heart. His fingers moved from her wrist back to the palm of her hand, circling and feeling the scar in the center of her palm.

The lute stopped and so did her heart. She followed social edicts and removed her hand from Cullen's and clapped in approval softly. "A beautiful song." He nodded to her but kept his back turned. Uthreida looked at Cullen who sat up straighter in his seat. She widened her eyes at him to praise the skald.

"Wolf Song," Conant called before Cullen could speak. The skald looked at the Karl with a smirk. "How about something a bit livelier in celebration." Uthreida watched him stand and noticed that Didreik had joined them at some point during the song. Conant leaned into her with a smile. "Forgive him, Clan Foliki have always been odd."

She waved a dismissive hand. "He's quite talented. And dare I say, I'm a bit jealous."

He chuckled as the skald stood between the three fires. "It's a thin line between brilliance and madness, Lady of the Skies. Be careful of your distance."

She smiled as she watched the man. "To tell the truth, I've been trying to come up with a song to venerate the gods, but I seem to be drawing a blank."

"I…can't…relate, Lady." He cleared his throat and took a drink. "Sorry."

She smiled at the Avvar and watched the Skald again. He traded his lute for a drum and the clan stepped forward to hear his song. The song started and she could tell it was a war chant given the beating of the drum. The Skald sang of crows and the night sky. The languid song gave way made her smile. Movement caught the attention as the people as they circled the three bonfires with swords and shields. Stepping in tune with the rhythm. The drumbeat picked up and the people started to sing the chorus of the song. Their many voices creating one of confidence that would rattle lesser warriors. She watched as they would add to the drumbeat by beating their sheilds with their swords.

But the movement. Her smile dropped as she watched them. They moved in spirals. Like the ones she had seen all over Skyrim and never thought anything of. The three spirals from a central point. Her heartbeat faster in her chest as she watched these warriors embrace symbols that her people had long since forgotten. Tales of Giants from the mountains, tales of teachings. Lost to time but remained with them.

She stood, feeling the compulsion of the song and the people. Her heart beating wildly with the urge to run. To run this race with them in honor and veneration.

Cullen held her hand to pull her back but she only fought against it. Pulling until the paint on their hands made her slip from his grasp.

She ran to the ring, falling in line with the Avvar who ran the circuit. A few noticed and smiled, singing the choirs for her in their deep tones and teaching her the rhythm of the song. There was a connection she couldn't deny with them. The same views, the way they sang, their lifestyle. These, are her people. Changes in names. Details, locations, but they are hers.

"We fight" the skald called over the group in a growling voice, "for honor." The drum getting louder like her heart, "for Korth" He stopped drumming.

"Shield wall." Each warrior snapped and held their shield ready at Conant's loud call. A singular loud slap was heard as the shields locked swords poised and held for an attack. She could see Cullen's look of surprise at the discipline and unification of the warriors. The skald sounded the drum three times and the warriors lowered their shields, picking back up in their circuit and singing the choirs of the song again. Learning the choirs from the warriors. She sang. She sang of fights, for valor until death, and received into the hall of the mountain father. Into Shores halls of Valor. Until Sovngarde.

The Avvar that passed her in the circuit smiled but didn't match hers. She had seen the splendor. She had felt the winds of Kyne as she crossed the whalebone bridge and seen the Hall of Valor. She stood side by side with ancient heroes and new ones. She had seen Sovngarde. Looking at the warriors around her, she wanted it for them. They shared blood. They shared ancestors. They shared a history. A culture. Their want and desire are the same. Their gods are the same.

The sound of drums stopped and she was finally able to breathe. The rush of the dance. The realizations. She loved it. The clansman gave a shout of rejoicing at the completion of the song. Few bowed to her, averting their eyes, and smiled to her nonetheless.

She turned to see Cullen standing, his hand held loosely on his weapon. But his head was tilted forward like he was ready to attack anyone who got close. She smiled at the idea of a rabid dog. As she crossed the dancing circle to reach him, he crossed his arms over his chest in disappointment. She could only smile at his mild anger as she was slowly coming down from a high of belonging and contentment. She apologized quietly when she reached him. His arched brow of annoyance and silent sigh of disapproval. His little heathen, she thought, his pagan as he was hers.

"Lady of the Skies," Conant said from across the table. She turned to look at him as he held up his tankard. "Korth. We move in your honor. For your children." Didreik lifted his tankard with him. "For we are blessed, that even in your wounds, you stand, eat, and dance with us. We will sing honor to the gods through our victory, or through our deaths."

Uthreida smirked. Victory or Sovngarde.

"Your paths are well heard, and well-received," Cullen stated. Uthreida noticed the chords in his neck as he spoke and heard the slight quiver in his booming voice. "Go, and bring honor to the children and help them. Help us bring an end to this destruction." He grabbed her by the arm gently and pulled her away. Making it known to her that he was ready to go. To wash off the paint and heresy of his own patron deity.

Uthreida watched as the crowd bowed as they made their exit. She placed her hand over his arm as they walked, exiting the cove of trees. She bit her lip and looked up at Cullen.

"What?"

She hesitated at her question knowing how it would sound. "How much is a loaf of bread?"

He scrunched his face in question. "What?"

"How much is a loaf of bread?"

"I don't know." He stated with a shrug but noticed that his men were following and kept up the facade that he was in charge. "Three to five pence, I guess?"

"How much is a pence?"

He looked down at her random line of questioning. "One one-hundredths of a royal. It's made of copper. A silver, or tense, is one-tenth of a royal."

Uthreida looked away in embarrassed misunderstanding. The royal was worth one hundred times than a septim. Meaning she spent one hundred thirty thousand septims on his bottle of scotch and ninety-eight thousand septims on a dress. Wait, that would also mean she's being paid eight hundred thousand septims to slay dragons. Per dragon. By the Nine. If that's the case, it made her question how much gold Tamriel had in comparison to Thedas. Grounds for war? Even then, Skyrim had the silver mines and Cryodill had the gold mines. Or, wait, if the weight of the septim was slightly less than half of a royal, did that mean Tamriel had less gold or-

"Where are you going with this?"

She shook her head quickly. "I was just curious."

"Because?" She gave a vague shrug in her silence. They exited the grove with the Soldiers keeping their distance behind them. "You didn't know, did you?"

"I" she started frustrated but sighed. "I did not."

Cullen chuckled at her misinformation of the land. Only to grow louder. Uthreida looked annoyed at him as he tried to catch his breath. "The dragon doesn't even realize the worth of her horde."

She slapped his chest to make him gain some composure. "Shush."

XxXxXxXx

Cullen scrunched his brows as he read over the letter from Arl Tegan Guerrin. The gall. Demanding gold to make reparations to his Arling due to the bleeding over of the rebellion. Yes, the Inquisition did take responsibility as socially required, but asking for nineteen thousand sovereigns to pay was excessive. Makers breath. He shook his head, knowing well and good that the Inquisition didn't have those kinds of coffers. If anything, the bulk of their recruits are from the Bannor and Redcliff. He inked a quill and made a note for the next war meeting to see if they could muster up men and workers to send to Redcliff to see to the work. Certainly, they had a few builders they could spare. In winter.

He groaned and set it aside.

The plucking of lute strings made him look up to see Uthreida curled on the couch. Her stolen Inquisition banner was thrown over her shoulders like a shawl. A large shawl. It's practically a blanket. Given the lack of tune or rhythm, she was playing her found lute out of boredom. Her eyes were distant as she let her fingers play with the instrument. He could remember the pained whimpers from this morning as Cassandra started the purging process for her. Cullen remembered his torn heart. The want to stop it but knowing she needed it. To see her wounded and weak and knowing he could stop it. The box of scrolls next to her on the couch knowing reading gave her a headache. And in mental boredom, reached for the lute. It was annoying while he worked, but could see that she needed the distraction. But she was relaxing. She was resting and was finally recovering. Her eyes were distant in thought.

He opened a new missive and read over the contents of personnel numbers, reports from the supplies lines, and apparently, increased movements from Darkspawn in the Storms coast. It's always something else.

"All my friends fell out with me." He looked up at the sound of her singing. He heard the plucking of the strings into an actual coherent rhythm. "Because I care for your company.

But let them say whatever they will

My love, my love with a fervent will."

He smirked as she seemed to have found a muse.

He resumed his work but looked back up when she went into the second lyric without stopping. It was a song she knew. The slow melody making him forget his work as she sang of the trials of her love to find work over the mountains. He adverted his gaze in case his solo concert was severed. The plucks of the strings relaxed him, entranced him in a way. The style was one he never heard of. It was like a counter melody that still fit the vocals. He tried to look covertly. A smile had curled on Uthreida's lips during the chorus. She almost seemed at peace.

"One I love" she sang slower

"Two she loves" stopped strumming

"Three she swore to me."

He looked away quickly to pretend he didn't notice. A long silent moment passed where she didn't move. He snuck a glance to see her looking at the lute in confusion. "Cole" she yelled annoyed to the ceiling. "Come out, Lad. I know you're here."

Cullen blinked and saw the wide brim hat appear between them, looking at her. His heart stopped at the surprising presence of the spirit.

She made a sound of startled fright but sighed as the hat tilted. "Care to explain how I was able to recreate a song I had only heard once?" There was a bite to her tone as if she already knew the answer.

"It's a happy song, that makes you sad, but it makes you happy."

Uthreida looked at the boy with a brow but ultimately smiled. "Aye, it does." She put the lute aside and stood to him. She held her hands on her hips as she looked at the physical spirit. She looked at Cullen with an embarrassed smile. "Cole," she took a breath as if to explain a hard truth. "Heart Songs are illegal in a time of war. You know this?"

"What?" Cullen asked, his voice rising at the inflection. "No, it's not."

She looked between the two men. "Really?" She whispered loudly across the room, bending slightly to ask Cullen directly.

He gave a slight chuckle at her display. "Of course not."

She pulled back as if to realize she was living a lie. "Huh." She blinked quickly then looked at Cole with a sinful smirk. "Will you teach it to me?"

Cullen arched a brow before the young man could speak. "Love songs are illegal where you're from?"

She looked between the two, but Cole tilted his head as If reading her knowledge. She smirked at Cullen. "In a time of war, aye. They weaken the resolve of the Solders. It's an ancient tradition in fear they will abandon the field for their family, spouse, or lands. To sing a heart song in a time of war is to threaten the morale of the men. The punishment is usually lashings but can be extended to removal of the tongue if done so in bad or bawdy taste."

Cullen shook his head and resumed his readings. "Seems excessive, but alright."

She tilted her head slightly. "If done in a crowd, and not lashed, shows it's a good song. One that doesn't offend, but rather-" she looked at him quickly but turned to Cole. "Can you teach it to me?"

"Um, I'm not very good with music. Or words. Or-"

"Then how-"

"I just helped you remember the words. The music reflected your emotions."

She was silent that made Cullen look up again. She had her hands on her hips in thought. "I'm trying to come up with a song that pleases my gods, but I can't think of anything."

"Because you're supposed to be resting." Cullen interrupted.

He could tell from the pause that she looked at him with a heated annoyance. "Don't suppose you can help?"

The wide hat tilted at her. "What do you need?"

Uthreida moved. "Can you help me read this? Help me remember the events and emotions." Cullen looked up quickly to see her holding up her travel journal for the boy's inspection. But his hat stayed with her bag. "What's that?" He pointed at her bag again.

She looked confused as she looked over the bag. Cole stepped forward and produced a blue leather book for her. She arched a brow and took it. She flipped open the cover and smirked. "Oh, forgot this was in here." She chuckled as she leafed through it. "It's rather a dull read. You really want to hear it?" The hat tilted slightly but Cullen didn't care to investigate. "I have a book on dragons, several books actually." She said leaning over the bag, "Hip pocket guide, Volume three." The wide hat turned to look at Cullen and ice ran in his veins. "For the song in you is clouded, mixed, fogged." He said softly. Cullen lowered his brows at the boy's peculiar behavior.

Uthreida looked over her shoulder at Cole with a perplexed look. But sighed. "Alright." She stood slowly and sat down on the couch again. She smiled as Cole sat beside her on the floor. "The Atherium Wars" she announced on the title page. Cullen smirked at her and her obvious distaste for military history. " By Tarim Dreth." Cullen continued to read over reports as she read the book out loud to Cole. Passively listening as a group called the dwemer seemed to fall due to infighting. But her voice seemed to soften as he worked. It wasn't until a long silence did he realize she stopped reading. He looked up to see her look horrified by the words on the page. Her wide eyes and lips barely moving as she read. She hunched over the book, as if not believing what she was seeing.

"Uthreida?" He asked cautiously. She looked at him with horror and confusion. Her deep breaths forced him to sit on the edge of his seat. "Utha?" He asked again, softer so as not to frighten her.

Her eyes shifted to Cole next to her. The hat tilted slowly but didn't speak. Cullen stood slowly and approached her. She slammed the book shut as if to hide the information from him so he couldn't see.

"That's why you weren't poisoned," Cole stated from the floor. Both eyes turned to the boy. "You traveled with it for so long, you grew accustomed to it."

Her wide eyes looked to the floor as her breathing quickened. "That's impossible." She whispered. "That," she shook her head. "It can't."

Cullen blinked and saw Cole standing next to her. "She confirmed. They are blood kin."

She shook her head slowly to the boy. Cullen grunted. "Can one of you explain what's going on?" Cole took a breath and he held up a hand. "In simple terms."

"Who confirmed?" Uthreida said with a hiss at Cole.

"Nightingale." He said softly.

She turned and reached for the door, but paused. Her jaw locked as she tried to think of something.

Cullen's shoulders grew taught at the irritation. "Someone start talking now." He ripped the book from Uthreida's hands and flipped it open to a random page. Before his eyes was her written language. One he couldn't read. But had a small map with more language of triangles.

"He doesn't want it," Cole said beside her.

"He's not the one I'm concerned with." Cullen looked up to see her eyes on him. A look of rage took her features but he could tell she was hiding something.

"Read this." He passed the book back to her. But she didn't take it.

"The king doesn't want it either." Cole tried to reassure her but she turned on him.

"Maybe not, but what do they want?" She took a breath with a clenched jaw. "And what are they willing to do to get it?" Her blue eyes, bisected with a pink scar looked squarely at Cullen. A sense of determination filled her.

Cullen lowered a brow at her. "What are you two driveling on about?"

She looked at Cole. "How is this possible?"

"It connects," he said, his arms crossed as he shifted his weight. "A whisper, a song across the lands. Old, but not yet forgotten. Bones left after a battle that sings to be remembered."

Cullen scrunched his face at the boy in pure confusion. Cole looked at him. Met his eyes. "The song is softer in you, but still reaching for something bigger. Older. Like her." He looked at Uthreida and so did Cullen.

She didn't even notice them as she held up a hand as if to figure something out. "Cole," she paused, as if unsure if the words she was about to say made her sane. "Are you suggesting that they, they're, the earth bones?" Cullen looked confused as he turned his attention to Cole who seemed just as confused. "The law. Nature. The Et'ada made physical to provide the-" she looked at Cullen with realization. "Physical law and order."

Cole was silent, holding his hand to his chin as he considered it. "I don't know."

She took the book from Cullen's hands and flipped through pages. "What was his name? The Et'ada, that gave sound. Life. Not Iffery. It was um-" she found the page and started to read silently again. "Aye," she closed the book and looked at Cole. "Songs. Sounds. Tonal Architecture. Sword Singers, Thu'um. Cole," she smiled wildly as she looked at him. "Do you know what-"

"Yes." He said with a smile.

"I don't," Cullen stated loudly. "Someone explain, now."

She waved him off as she pulled Cole closer. "So what does it mean? To them?" She waved a hand to Cullen.

"Yes, please, enlighten me." His terse tone and folded arms making him known.

"Dagna knows."

"Oh, I love her," Uthreida stated excitedly. "Let's go."

She moved to leave but Cullen grabbed her by the arm. "Explain. Now."

She looked at Cole then at him. "Undeniable proof that this is Nirn." She wrenched free and opened the door for Cole.

Cullen stood alone in his office and huffed. Like the Void he's not going to know. He followed after the two and noticed Solas was picked up on the trip to the Undercroft.

Uthreida opened the door and held her arms wide. "Dagna."

The dwarven woman chuckled. "Well, if it isn't my favorite student."

"You are one of my better teachers," Uthreida stated as she descended down the steps to her. Cullen shot a skeptical look at Solas who seemed more pleasant than anything. "So, I hear you had a look at my rock." The dwarven woman looked confused at her. Uthreida held her hands up to guesstimate size. "Blue, Uh-"

"Ah." Dagna moved to a lead chest and pulled out a large carved stone of lyrium. The largest stone of lyrium he had ever seen. "This one?"

"Aye, that's it," Uthreida stated with a smirk. "So what did you find out about it?"

Uthreida took a step closer and Dagna took a step back. "That it's volatile."Cullen looked at the rock and felt his teeth ache. He has never wanted to lick something more in his life. "And sort of" the dwarven woman rolled it in her hands to look. "Primal."

"Primal?"

"Not like an animal, but, not well refined either, you know?"

Uthreida smiled at her. "So, what is it?"

Dagna lowered her brows at her, unsure if she was serious. The dwarf looked at Cullen who only had eyes for the rock in her hands. "Lyrium. Practically raw, at this point but the chisel marks are defined. You see this crack here," she pointed to a side of the straight edge, "it's like it was cut from a bigger piece. And the carvings seem to indicate that there's more like it. Like, it was one then cut off. Not like, from the vein, but like," she sighed. "It's a piece to a larger disk if I had to guess. Where did you find it? What's it for? I don't recognize the writing. The runes are different."

Uthreida waved a hand to the question. "Do you mind if I try something?"

The dwarf pulled it back in a playful game of keep away. "Only if you tell me where you found it."

"Outside of Riften. May I?" Uthreida waved a hand to the rock to request interaction.

Dagnas face dropped and grew serious. "Lady Uthreida, I can't on good conscious allow that."

"Why?"

"I just said, it's volatile."

"I don't know what that means," Uthreida said as she took another step.

Dagna took another back, "It means no."

"Come on. I'll trade you. Ever seen a soul gem?"

Cullen stepped in and stood between the two women. He tore his eyes from the rock long enough to glair at Uthreida. "What is going on?"

She looked at him with a knowing smile. "Do you have any red lyrium here?" She asked around Cullen to the dwarf. The dwarf gave an unsure sound as she looked at Cullen.

Cullen arched a brow and saw he had some leverage. "After you explain, I'll consider it."

The slayer only smiled at him. "Once-"

"No." He said quickly, sensing a story. "Spit it out."

"The dwemer we're able to carve their cities out of sounds. Their 'drum beat' as it was referred to, was enough to alter reality and shape the caves and underground to their liking. This beat was called Tonal Architecture. Their tones were used to build, heal, and some believe, control. They used the sound to dig. And one day, came across a rock that emitted its own sound. So powerful, that it negated their own song. This rock was believed to be the heart of Lorkhan. The doom drum. The first or last Et'Ada to fall during the Ehlnofey Wars, depending on which race you prescribe to. The heart was then manipulated by Dagoth Ur who started the divine blight. Do you understand?"

Cullen lowered a brow. "No."

She took a frustrated breath. "When the world was new-"

"Makers breath. Out with it."

"The lands were united." He rolled his eyes. "It was one massive landmass. But during the Ehlnofey Wars, was separated. The Et'Ada that did not survive the war became the earth bones." She looked at Dagana then at him again. Then back to the rock in her hands.

Cullen looked confused as it started to click. He turned to see the lyrium rock in her hands then back at her. He lifted a hand to ask but remembered their company and the possible association to Royoc and Liliana. The possible war that would rage if he was right, and the greed from those who wanted it. She just confirmed her land has lyrium. "Out." He pointed a finger at Solas. He dragged her further into the forge so they stood next to the cave entrance with the sound of the waterfall drowning them out. He stood before her so no one could see their faces or gestures. "That's yours." He pointed over his shoulder to indicate the rock. She nodded. "And you found it in Riften. Your home." She nodded again as the anxiety rose in his chest. He nodded once to show he was following along. "You have lyrium…where ever you're from."

She took a deep breath and nodded once. "The dwemer called it Atherium."

He gave a slower nod with a panicked expression. Maker, if the king or the chantry finds out, her fear of a war was renewed. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came as the idea of a full contential war filled his mind. He gave a heavy sigh, seeing the weight of the information.

"It should be noted," she said quickly, "that the dwemer had a war over this stuff and that it hasn't been found or replicated since. Few people would even know that this exists. It would be seen as a fiction rather than the reality you face."

He took a deep breath, looking over her. "And you traveled, with that thing."

"Aye."

"And for how long did you have lyrium exposure?" She looked away in thought but shrugged her shoulders with a sound to match. "Makers mercy." He said exhausted as he ran a hand over his face. "Utha that can kill you. Or drive you mad."

"To be fair, I didn't know what it was-"

"Ignorance does not constitute justification, Utha." He let the worry and concern ring in his voice.

"But now" she smiled as she looked up at him. "Cullen. This is Nirn. And we are connected by the earth bones. Lyrium or Atherium, it's the same. The same earth, the same stars, the same sun. Cullen." She smiled again and he felt his heart rate rise. "We are the same." He looked down at her in question as he consciously refused to believe it. "You said it yourself. It has a song. A tone. A beat. A music. A sound that vibrates reality that allows flux of destruction and melody of peace. It" she took a breath as her eyes drifted to Dagna in excitement. "It is the metaphysical made reality. And lyrium, as you know it, is the blood of the marrow. As a Templar, you reinforce reality. You reinforce the laws of nature." She ran a hand through her hair in excitement. "Do you understand now? You are connected. We are connected. Our world is the same."

He shook his head, already hearing the dreaded song. "No, you, Tevinter has ties to dwarves who could've passed that off to you to gain entry-"

"Look at me." He did so quickly. "I can't lie, Cullen. I found that blue rock in Riften. In Skyrim. In Tamriel. Purely on accident." She chuckled. "Or so I thought. The point is," she took a breath as if to both calm herself and him. "In the war, a song was heard. A sound, a vibration. A breath. Life. And to speak, to sing is to give life. We are so attuned to the song of the earth that we must sing, that there is power in our voices. We are compelled to dance. Aye, so, compounded with Kynes Breath, or the Makers breath as you're fond of saying, life, within the confines of the bones does…something."

"Something?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But I know I'm onto something."

He took a deep breath and looked down at her. He could see the connection but-"you know, this explains a lot."

"Exactly" she almost squealed in excitement, slapping his chest with happiness.

"Like why you're so-" he used both his hands to circle his own head as he looked at her with a pointed accusation.

She scowled deeply and pointed at his chest. "I'm not crazy."

"Addled, sure, but not crazy."

She scoffed dismissively and walked past him back to the dwarf. Cullen turned to see her putting the lyrium rock back in its lead case with care. "Can I see the red now?"

Dagna made the same sound as before while looking at him. He made a face of hesitation. Checking to make sure the elf had left and was relieved when he was gone. "First of all, it's entirely irrational. To suggest that lyrium is part of something larger-"

"Umm" Dagna gave a sheepish grin to him. "There are…theories." She cleared her throat quickly. "Of what it actually is. Most of it pure speculation, of course. But, theories, nonetheless." She looked at Uthreida with a small smile of interest. "You think lyrium is the bones of some…ancient creature?"

Uthreida sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

Dagna smirked. "Well, it's not too far from what some dwarves think. But" she gave a shrug as well. "Hard to say without proof."

Uthreida took a breath and crossed her arms. "So, what's the difference between this blue and the red?"

"It's fascinating, actually," Dagna said with a chipper tone. "It's more destructive, more volatile than," she waved a hand to the chest, "The red lyrium is used to weaken the vail where the blue lyrium reinforces it. It's both weird and intriguing. The song of lyrium is a slow descent into madness where red lyrium is quicker."

"A faster rhythm," Cole said slowly. "Dancing to a song that leads to a cliff."

"Doom drum?" Uthreida said looking at him. She gave a quick laugh. "One serves the other." Uthreida tapped her fingertips on her arm as she looked at the case the lyrium rock was in. "There's more power in red lyrium?"

"Significantly." Dagna smiled at her.

Uthreida smirked knowingly. "When did the blights start?" She asked Cullen.

He paused at the question. "Twelve hundred years ago."

"Well, for surfaceers at least." Dagna quibbled with a smirk.

Cullen saw Uthreida bite a lip in thought. "Three hundred years." She said to herself. "After Dagoth Ur woke up. How long have the blights existed for the dwarves?"

Dagna shrugged at the question. "Forever?"

Uthreida held her chin in question. "Let's assume that Dagoth did corrupt the heart, or lyrium, somehow, and you have it here. He created a blight. It acts as a hive mind that causes growth in the people. Is it the same here?"

"That's really a question for Blackwall." Cullen stated quickly. "Trying to surmise the history or reasons did little to foster the idea of how to stop it."

"It's connected, I just don't know-"

"Red diamond," Cole said quickly.

Cullen looked at him with a lowered brow but Uthreida waved it off. "The red diamond is a drop of Akatosh blood when he slew Lorkahan. It's not the same as his heart. And even then, the pact of kings is different. It's not the same."

"One satisfies the other."

"True but-" she paused. "True." She pointed at him but screwed her face it remembers something. "But-" she shook her head. "No. It doesn't make sense. Well," she shook her head again. "Biting a molar on this one. Alright, so under the assumption that lyrium is the earth bones, red lyrium is a different kind of-" she looked at Cullen. Snapping her fingers at him. "The Avvar. They said, something about your heart. Korths heart. Is it the same?"

Cullen shrugged with a look of clear misunderstanding as he neither knew her stories, the Avvar stories, or even what she was getting at.

She waved it off. "Let's pretend that Dagoth did infect the heart, is it possible that the bones here may have been infected as well?"

Dagna shot her a confused look. "I don't think so? Who-what?"

Uthreida threw her arms up in frustration. "When does Blackwall get back?" She asked pointing at Cullen.

"When he returns." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"Because I want to know if this blight is the same as the ash landers blight."

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

Cullen shook his head at her. "Corypheus heard the whispers of Dumat from the fade that told him to enter the Golden City. Using blood magic and lyrium, he crossed the fade and he walked the halls. And in his hubris, the Maker cast him out, filling his blood with the blight."

Uthreida shot him a confused look, "Whose Dumat."

"The old dragon god of silence."

She threw up a hand in confusion. "A dragon?"

"Yes."

"A dragon spoke to Corypheus and said to enter the fade."

"Yes."

Her confusion grew more but looked away. "From the fade? A dream told him to do this?"

Cullen lowered his brows. "Yes."

"Fucking Vaermina." She shook her head. "That still doesn't make any sense. Magnus isn't even here anymore. He fled. His lands are impenetrable. Even with lyrium or blood. But-" Her eyes fell to Cole. He tilted his hat, but she kept looking at him. "Blood magic is weaker." She said to herself.

Cullen shot her a skeptical look. "How do you know that?"

"Dorian and I have magic ethic conversations. Blood magic. It came up." Cullen was flabbergasted that she admitted to it but still seemed to still be in thought and missed his angered approach to her. "Lorkhan, the child of Sithis." She shook her head to remember something. "Royoc said that Corypheus said the halls were black and plagued. He didn't go to Magnus. He wasn't taken to Atherius. Using the blood, he was taken to Sithis. Or Peryite. Both are extremely difficult to get to." She looked up annoyed as if she just figured it out. "Peryite. The little dragon." She threw her head back. "That explains all of this. Or Sithis because of Dagoth and Lorkhan. Or, aye, Peryite works with Sithis." She threw her head back annoyed. "Or Vaermina."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Alright. I think you need to lay down. Thank you, Dagna." He stated to shove Uthreida out of the under Croft.

"Red lyrium has been infected by the heart." She shouted as Cullen pushed her back to the stairs. He slammed the door behind them and scowled at her. "Are you done?"

"I'm not crazy"

"What was that then?" He flicked a hand to the door.

"Look" she held her hands up to make a narrow point, "the Dedra created the blight, probably with the idea of Dagoth Ur, and need the second vail weaker so they can enter the land again. Vaermina whispered to Corypheus to anger Peryite to create the blight so they can get a foothold here. Away from the…the Amulet of Kings. Shores bones, Cole was right. Red diamond. The pact."

"Are you done?" Cullen asked again with heated anger.

She waved a frustrated hand in his face. "Of course you don't understand."

"Nor would I want to." He flicked his own hand at her. "Uthreida-"

"I'm right. About…something." She gave a heavy sigh and rubbed her temples. "I need to go home."

"Agreed." He lifted his hand to point towards his office again.

She shoved it off. "No, my home. You people are as blind as a man without books. You don't even understand the larger world around you. Hiding behind the Maker and brainwashed neglecting the fact you're saying it wrong. It's Magnus. And-" she paused again. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "And Vaermina's antithesis." She shook her head slowly. "She's the only prince with a foothold here. Gods. You have no idea what's coming if Corypheus succeeds."

"What?"

"Oblivion, Cullen. If Corypheus succeeds in sundering the second vail-" she shook her head, her eyes dark in concern for him. "I need to go home. To get books, priests, an army that actually knows what they're doing. The Staff of Magnus. You have no idea what's coming. What's sealed behind the gate you love." She shook her head again. "I don't know you did it, how you people made a pact with Akatosh, but you better pray it holds." She clenched her jaw and looked away. "The Dedra are not to be trifled with. And Vaermina's is getting stronger."

Cullen held her arm to stop her from walking off. "What are you going on about?"

"Put me back in the field." She shook her head. "You don't know. You don't know what they can do." There was a tremor of fear that caused her chin to quiver for a second.

Cullen's blood froze to ice as he looked at her. Something in her eyes said she was referring to something other than demons and darkspawn and dragons. "What's happening?"

Her eyes looked at him with fear. "Oblivion, if he succeeds."

"We know that."

"No." She shook her head slowly. "No, you don't." Looking at her, he realized there was a darkness to this world that he's never seen. Never experienced like she has. "We need to close the gates. Put me back in the field. This waiting for Royoc to show up and fix everything is only costing you time. Have him seal the oblivion gates, but the men need to move without him. They need to move, now."

His heart pumped in his chest at what she foretold. But a part didn't want to let go. "You're still injured." He pleaded and she growled in annoyance. "And you still obviously don't know this land. One more week. Alright?" She pursed her lips in annoyance. "One more week to make sure you're healed. That should give Royoc time to find another dragon."

"This isn't about dragons, Cullen." She seethed while looking at the echoing stone walls. "This is about something far greater than what you're capable of understanding. Of what your vail and Maker hid from you. You don't know the pillar like I do. All of this is connected. And it's only going to get worse. As much as you may hate to hear this, we need those dragons alive."

Cullen shook his head. "You're the one not understanding the concept here. Those dragons destroy supply lines. They need to be put down."

She shook her head at him. "You're wrong."

"You want us to succeed yes? To put Corypheus down."

"Of course-"

"Then do what you're paid to do. This army is the only one that can put him down. And the army can't function with them in the way."

She snarled and shook her head. "Careful, you're starting to sound like Ulfric."

He sneered and leaned down to be in her face. "At least one of us is thinking of strategy."

She shook her head with a twitching nose. "I'm done with this vacation. I'm going back in the field. You have one week to get me a location."

She ran her shoulder into his to push him out of her way as she descended down the stairs and into the main hall.

XxXxXxXx

Cullen pulled at the collar of the doublet as he entered the office of Lady Josephine. Liliana and Josephine looked up from their teacups at the center of the room. Their eyes going over him. Both were in their usual attire. And he felt overdressed. Liliana smiled as she drank her tea and Josephine beamed. "Is that you, Commander?" She tittered into her hand. "I didn't recognize you without all the armor. Or the fur." She laughed again, careful of her teacup.

Cullen pursed his lips as he entered. "I was invited to a soiree. I assumed there would be nobles present." He stated dryly as he crossed the room, taking the empty chair at her sitting table. The table had a pot of tea and a plate of cookies and small hand cakes.

"No, no, Commander Cullen" Josephine said with a wave of her hand. "This is for us. To convene as collueges." Cullen arched a brow. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the door that lead to the war room. She tittered at his dry actions. "A place to discuss the forward movement of the Inquisition without soldiers, politics, or ploys." Liliana smiled again as she bit into a cookie.

Cullen sighed but poured himself a cup of tea. Her tea set was everything he expected with matching flowers and a honey pot. It was both delicate and a conversational piece. Cullen smirked as he looked the women over. "Josephine, lovely to see you again." She gave a quick nod to Cullen but Liliana arched a brow at the comment. "Seeing as how we are to converse as colleagues, I heard a rumor the two of you might enjoy."

"Oh?" Liliana smirked. "Engaging in gossip now are we, Commander?"

He gave a quick smile. "I've heard some of our personnel numbers may be, how do I say, imaginary." He allowed the scathe in his voice as he looked at Josephine with a hardened glair. His hand resting on the table as he looked at her like a soldier caught stealing rations during a shortage.

Josephine lifted her chin to him and smiled politely. "Imaginary, Commander?" She gave a look of confusion.

"Why are you two funneling gold for charity? Further, why hide it from the Inquisitor?"

"Commander-"

"Josie." Liliana warned. Cullen looked at her and she let her mask fall. The emotionless gaze fell to him. "Commander, I think the biggest concern is that you don't know how many men you have. I question the reasoning for inflating your numbers. Which begs the question, what is to become of Commander Cullen Rutherford after the Inquisition?" Her tone was light as if to change the conversation from accusations to polite intrigue.

Cullen snorted as he looked at the Spymaster. "Of course. Let's question the intentions of a man who has seen what depravity and madness can wrought."

"The man who let it happen, yes."

"What of the Left Hand who did nothing?" He looked at Josephine. "Would this embezzlement have anything to do with the twenty-four thousand royals blown on curtains and beds? Or maybe the one hundred thousand spent on the golden nug statue."

She smiled at him. "Commander. Perhaps you need to walk your encampments to ensure your numbers. After all, we can't afford to waste money on soldiers who don't exist?"

"Or promise resources to allies that have not been vetted," Liliana added smugly.

Josephine leaned to Liliana with a look of interesting gossip. "How do you mean?"

Liliana's blue eyes shifted to Cullen with a murderous smile. "The Commander has requested allies, of the Avvar camp at the base of the mountain."

Josephine placed a hand to her heart and a look of mortification on her face. "Commander."

Cullen shot her a look. Neither was laughing it off. Neither was terribly concerned. "Why are you hiding this from him?" He said, trying to steer the conversation.

"It's being contained, Commander," Liliana stated calmly.

"Contained." Josephine echoed. A shaking hand causing his attention to shift. A slight quiver of her jaw made him lose all his composure.

"Josie." He whispered. But she did compose. She looked at him with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What has he done?"

She scoffed softly and waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing." But there was something in her eyes that screamed the word 'yet.'

Liliana shifted in her chair as she placed her teacup down. "Commander, sacrifices must be made. Some are prettier than others." Her soulless eyes met his and he knew she spoke of his suicide she was planning. "Never bring this up again, and we will not mention the supplies being routed to the unvetted alliance with the Avvar. Is that clear?" Cullen turned to look at her slowly. "Careful." She warned in a low tone. "I'd hate to see your wife, distraught at the thought of losing you, as she takes her own life. Leaving the Inquisition with no one to take down Corypheus's dragon. Not to mention the stain of her honor when your treason is discovered."

Cullen scoffed. "You clearly don't know my wife."

"Clearly." She said slowly with a serious smile. "Drop it."

He refused as she arched a brow. "So I'm the scapegoat then? For whatever it is you two are doing."

Josephine bit a lip and looked at Liliana who hid her eyes from both of them. "Depends, are you going to bring it up again?"

Cullen took a breath as he looked the women over. "Believe it or not, I agree. As do my men. But I will not be blackmailed for actions that are not my own. Nor will I be blamed for your methods of containing the inquisitor's power lust."

Liliana leaned back, her finger tapped on the table as she looked him over. "Noted."

Cullen arched a brow at the older woman. "Why are you doing this?"

Liliana smiled at him while Josephine sipped at her tea. Liliana finished her cookie. "If ten royals a month isn't enough to suit your lifestyle, perhaps we need to look at your contract again, Commander," Liliana said as she sipped her tea.

"I'll survive." He stated quickly, looking at Josephine who kept her eyes averted.

"Are you sure?" Liliana's voice was light as she spoke. "I'd hate to see the hundred and eighty-seven royals a month used for charity go to waste. Especially if there's somewhere else for it be used that would bring just as much use to the Inquisition."

Cullen peaked at the amount. Why was she offering that to him? "Are you trying to buy me?"

"No, no. Perish the thought, Commander." Liliana waved a hand to dismiss. "Just trying to understand the field."

He looked at the women and breathed. "Lady Josephine, what are your thoughts on this?"

Josephine smiled kindly. "On what, Commander?"

Cullen pursed his lips, realizing he was getting nowhere with them. A thought crossed his mind and wondered if it would work. "How the numbers of the men in the field don't match the reports I received from the rookery. After seals have been broken, of course."

Josephine looked to Liliana who smiled. "Are you suggesting one of my men, Commander?" The spymaster asked smoothly.

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, the possible future divine can't be seen embezzling from the Inquisition that she started. "It would be lovely if the two of you could just talk with me for a moment."

The room was filled with an electric silence as Josephine ate a small cake. "Have you tried one of these, Commander? They're very good."

Cullen rolled his eyes and stood, shooting the tea back quickly. "We're done here."

He walked to the door when a chair scooted across the floor. "Commander" Josephine called to him.

"Josephine," Liliana warned again. Breaking another cookie and dunking half into her tea.

Liliana was controlling this. While for the good, she was willing to sacrifice him for her methods. He shook his head at the woman. "When are you going to put it behind you?" He asked softly to the Spy Master. Liliana tilted her head at him as she chewed silently. "Will I ever be forgiven?"

Her cold eyes turned to him. She said nothing as she sipped her tea. She licked her lips slowly. "All of the Maker's children will be forgiven in his sight."

But not in hers. Cullen took a deep breath and left the room behind him.

XxXxXxXx

"Oh, Curly," Varric said as he entered the office. Cullen arched a brow from the maps he was reviewing from the scouts in the Emerald Graves. "Put that up, we got to go."

Cullen looked away as if to remember if there was a meeting or-

Varric walked to the desk and placed his hands on his hips. "You work too much and far too serious. Let's go."

Cullen huffed. "I have work-"

"It'll be there in the morning. Come on."

"Serah Varric-" he started dryly but the dwarf held up his hands to stop him.

"Now now, Curly, a bit of downtime won't hurt you. Come on. Besides," he gave a sigh and shrug to tell a story but didn't. "Let's get shit-faced."

"I'm good." He said quickly, returning to the maps. Varric rounded the desk and pushed him from the hips from the desk. "Desist." He scathed as Varric was now pushing him from his back. "This is ridiculous. Desist at once."

"What's ridiculous is the fact that you're wearing your armor this late in the day." Varric stopped pushing and looked at him with a sour expression. "Go on." The rouge waved a hand at him.

Cullen looked at him with lowered brows. "No."

Varric sighed and crossed his arms. "Cole." He called to the ceiling.

"Alright." Cullen sighed, knowing what the spirit was capable of and not wanting to know how depraved the dwarf can be. "Explain what's going on first."

"Nothing." He said with a smile. "Bunch of us are meeting in the tavern is all. Thought we'd invite you."

Cullen looked at him skeptically. "Why? Are you working with Sera?"

Varric chuckled. "First of all, Sera's not even here. Second, you spend too much time with a serious expression on your face. It's bad for your health. Let's get some drinks in you and see if we can't fix that."

"I'd rather not."

Varric waved it off. "What's the worse that'll happen? You have a good time?"

Cullen squinted his eyes as he looked the storyteller over. "You're playing at something. What is it?"

"What? Me? Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Yes. The entire time I was in Kirkwall. You and Hawke-"

"That's water under the bridge, Curly. I meant recently." Cullen pursed his lips at the dwarf, knowing damn well he knew where Hawke was this entire time. "There's a lot of water under that bridge. Let's go."

Cullen squinted. "Why are you pressing?"

"No reason, I just-"

"Varric." He warned.

The dwarf held up his hands and sighed. "Look, there's a performance tonight that you might be interested in, alright."

Cullen looked him over. He seemed to be telling the truth. "What kind of performance?"

"Well," Varric's smile was larger than necessary.

Cullen sighed. His mind was racing at what kind of performance could possibly be taking place in the tavern that he just had to see. Let alone his men. "Do I really want to know?"

Varric tilted his head in thought with a smile. "I think the surprise might be better."

"No." Cullen moved around the dwarf and went back to his desk.

Varric sighed. "What's the uh, going rate for Templars these days?"

Cullen stopped and looked at him. "Beg your pardon?"

"What's the uh" he made a vague motion with his hands and blew out a sound of silence from his mouth, "for Templars these days."

Cullen lowered a brow at him. "What are you suggesting?" Knowing full well what he was saying.

"I mean-" he chuckled as he looked Cullen over. "You don't think it's odd that no one noticed Bethany was a mage until after I left the surface?" He pointed a brow at Cullen.

The irate fury filled him as he looked down at the dwarf. "You were paying off my men? To hide Bethany?"

"And uh" he wiped his nose. Cullen wanted to punch him. Varric looked at him with crossed arms and a one-sided smirk.

Cullen's jaw dropped. He hid Anders. That abomination. "You should be hung." Varric pointed a brow at him but stayed silent as he looked the Commander over. His crimes were no less damning as Varrics. Cullen deflated.

"Like I said, water under the bridge. Shall we?" He waved a hand to the north door.

Cullen popped his jaw at the dwarf. "Fine."

"You, might, want to dress down."

"Why?"

"So you're more approachable." Cullen arched a brow at the comment. "To your men."

Cullen rolled his eyes. Close enough to know what you're risking. He looked the dwarf over and sighed. "Ten minutes." Cullen turned to the ladder.

"I'll be waiting," Varric called behind him.

Cullen rolled his eyes as he climbed. He removed his armor quickly and was wearing his leather jerkin. He washed quickly with a rag and ran a comb through his hair. The tonics started to leave for the day and some of his hair was falling out of place and flopping over his face. He rolled his eyes and didn't care.

He slid down the ladder to see Varric sitting in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk as he looked at the same map. Varric gave a warm smile as Cullen approached. "Let's go, Lady Killer." Cullen groaned as Varric stood up and lead the way across the battlements.

"What's this for again?"

"Morale." Varric shot over his shoulder.

Cullen looked down at him. "For who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

He turned, holding a hand to the stairs for Cullen to take. "For me."

Cullen looked at him, then the stairs. "You're being unbearably perky."

"Part of the charm." He waved his hand again with a smile and Cullen rolled his eyes.

He looked at the stairs then at the dwarf. "Why do I feel like I'm walking to my own pyre?"

"Because you don't trust people. Completely natural. Let's go."

Cullen squinted at him again. "What are you hiding?"

Varric smiled like he just got away with murder. "How short my patience actually is. Move."

Cullen looked between Varric and the tavern again. With a squinted eye, he stepped down the stairs. They entered the mostly empty tavern and Varric waved to Cabbot as he guided Cullen to a table in the back. Bull lifted his tankard to Varric while Cassandra arched a brow at Cullen. Cole sat at the end of the table, inspecting his tankard. Varric took a seat next to Cole and left Cullen with a chair that exposed his back to the room. He took a breath and took the offered seat. He has to rely on Bull to inform him of the comings and goings of the tavern.

Bull smirked at Varric who waved off the look. "Told you I could get him." He punched Cullen in the arm playfully as he smiled at Bull.

Bull gave a deep rumble of laughter as his one good eye took in Cullen. "Doesn't this violate something?" He asked with a deep smile.

"Nah." Varric waived it off. "I'm not directing."

"Just making a scene?"

"Well," Varric said as the barmaid dropped off four more tankards to the table, "when writing, the scene is all about the atmosphere."

Bull scoffed into his now empty tankard. "You're a lying piece of shit, you know that?"

Varric smirked. "Everyone's a critic." He pointed to the end of the table. "Pass my ale."

Cullen looked at Bull who smirked at him. He passed the drink to Varric but looked at Bull. "What's going on?"

"Top secret super-spy stuff." He gave a wink. "Don't worry about it."

"You ever played diamondback, Commander?" Varric asked, pulling a deck of cards from somewhere.

Cullen looked at Cassandra who met his gaze as she drank. "Yes."

"Great, don't have to run you through it." Varric started to deal the cards across the table.

Cullen kept his gaze with Cassandra as the cards stacked before him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. And somehow, it involved him. Cullen looked back at Bull who was looking at his cards. Relaxed. A small smirk curling on his lips.

What is going on?

Cullen glared at Varric as he picked up his two cards. "Drink," Varric suggested without looking. Cullen took a sip as Cassandra drew a card.

One hand turned into two, turned into five, into a second tankard, into a discussion of weapon tactics with Bull, to correcting Varrics a story of the Blooming Rose, into a tenth hand, then a playful guilt trip from Rylen and a third tankard as the captain joined them at the table.

Bull tapped the table with his knuckle and pointed to Varric. Varric looked over the table and smirked. "Here we go."

Cullen followed his eyes to see Uthreida sitting before the hearth with a lute in her hands. The conversations of the tavern quieted as she tuned the lute.

Cullen turned to Varric. "Is this why you dragged me out of my office?" He shoved a thumb over his shoulder to the slayer.

"Yea." He said with a smile. "She came to me a few days ago to ask for help with her songs. I got with the bard and we set this up." Cullen looked confused at the dwarf. "Curly, no point in writing if no one's going to see it. Or" he waved a hand to her, "hear it."

Cullen turned to look at her. She wore her best shirt and her hair was pulled up in a bun. The purple breeches and black boots tapped against the floor to help her find a beat to a mild tempo.

She strummed the lute with a heavy hand. Her eyes going to the neck and the strings as she played. She opened her mouth but he couldn't make out the words. She cleared her throat with a shake and kept going. "Stained by the blood of the innocents slain, he carries all of his regrets." Her voice carried louder as she rocked with the music. Her teeth barred in her visceral display. "There's no mercy for the weak of heart." Her head turning with the words, showing an emotional attachment to her and the song. "And as cruel as it all may seem, the wild cares not for weak of me."

She played harder again. Her voice making the transitions of the notes with ease. Pulling him in with the anger and frustration the song portrayed. The story of someone trying and failing to keep up with their brothers in their savagery only to be seen as weak for just being one of them.

She rocked harder in the chair as the notes crescendo louder. Singing of the choices the character had to make to keep up apperences. "Oh, his soul, oh his soul is damned. For what god would love, oh, such a wicked awful beast."

Cullen saw her clench her jaw and seal her eyes even as she kept playing the lute. Taking deep breaths.

His heart stopped as he watched her. It's his song. The song for her lover. His frustrations of what it meant to be a wolf surrounded by humans. Becoming more through her eyes. And damned for the choices he had to make.

The strumming lasted longer than what was anticipated as she gathered her emotions. She took a deep breath and howled. Like a wolf to the same words, she had sung. The same melody like a lone wolf lost. Alone. Forced to leave behind his lover and family. Cullen dropped his eyes and let her finish. Her sad howling pulled at his heart as if she was hoping her wolf would hear it somewhere.

The strumming finally stopped. The tavern didn't even seem to notice the song as no one clapped or cheered. But resumed their conversations. She kept her eyes lowered, turning the page of a book as she got comfortable again.

"Damn." Bull stated quietly. "Hell of a piece."

"You think so?" Cassandra stated quickly.

"I enjoy poetry." Bull lamented. "I know several. I could recite if you like." Bull leaned in with a smirk.

Rylen looked over at Cullen with an arched brow. "She alright?"

"She's just working through some emotions. It's fine." Cullen took a deeper drink from his tankard as she sat up.

Her thumb hit the body of the lute. The ring on her finger giving a deep tone, in a slow pace like a war drum. She sang of a late-night visitor. And how it frightened her. Asking questions only to receive silence. Her voice was low, slow, haunting. Like a chant to be sung in the halls of a great cathedral.

She tapped the body of the lute faster on the up beats as she started a throat chant. No discernible words he could understand but could feel the screaming desire of answers from the Maker. His own begging pleas came to mind after each hardship.

She stopped hitting the lute and began a new chant. Its tempo was faster. As she repeated the same line three times "the fire forces you from within, and shows you the way."

She tapped the lute again with a faster beat. Her thumb making a new rhythm that was more akin to a battle drum beat. A small smile showing on her face as she sang. Cullen smiled as some of the patrons started to clap with the beat. Her voice rose in power as she progressed. Singing of the melting of shadows in herself and the light of her motivation. That understanding of the darkness gives her an understanding of the light. Singing the chorus three times as if to make her point. That the answers are within us.

The tavern gave a round of applause as she finished. Rylen looked at him with a smirk as he clapped along. "You know, when she's not riding on the back of a dragon, she's pretty good." Cullen chuckled at the captain but nodded in agreement. "Good choice on that one."

Cullen shook his head and joined in on the sound with him. "Wasn't a choice."

Uthreida popped her knuckles but kept her head down. A small smile curling on her lips. Cullen watched as she took a drink of her horn cup and got comfortable again. She rolled her shoulders and turned a few more pages of her book to read over something as she waited for it to die down again.

Cullen watched with a smile to match her own. She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising higher as she looked at the book again then the lute.

She plucked in a manner that reminded him of Antiva. The slow timbre made him smirk and wondered if all of her songs started like that. She began to sing a slow, low hum as her fingers carried each note with the love of a child. Her voice carried like an earth song that only she knew and pulled him in. The rise and fall of it. He smirked at the thought that this was her power. Her voice. Odd that it took him long to make that connection.

"Blessed we are, to stand on this ground. With the rhythm of saints, to carry this sound."

She smiled as she sang. Her lute making basic single strums at the start of each stanza to keep the beat. Her song of blessings and the earth and of life. She switched to a wordless song again. Giving praise to the gods without words.

Her lute gaining more depth in the composition as she sang the same words again. The lute growing in strength and complexity to match even her own voice. He noticed Rylen sway to the beat. Cullen smirked and blamed the ale he was drinking as he tapped his foot to it.

"Remember why you came here. Remember your life is sacred."

He smiled as he watched her rock with the tune. Not six days ago she said she was at a wall. He looked over at Cole who was looking at the people across the tavern. And Varric smirked like a proud father at her. He met Cullen's eyes and smiled. He held his hands up. "I didn't touch this one." Cullen lowered his brows at him. "Just the first one. Helped her out with some of the wording." Cullen nodded at him and turned his attention back when the lute was the only thing making a sound. Her fingers moved deftly and the thoughts of Antivan lute like he heard in the Rose came back to him. The lutes notes matching her vocals perfectly to move from his second harmony and flowing into the primary melody. Damn, she's good. Her father trained her well. Now that he thought of it, her accent was less when she sang. Her hard consonants didn't have the roll like it usually did.

She sang the same song again, the lute keeping up with its complex composition as she sang. He arched a brow at her capabilities but kept tapping his foot. Her throat chant giving him a sense of hope and peace as she sang.

Her lute quieted down, wrapping up the song, he imagined. And she sang softer. He could almost imagine that everyone was leaning forward to hear her like he was.

"May we walk in beauty, and remember our songs."

She strummed the lute one last time and smiled to the tavern. There was less applause but Cullen chimed in with it. Offering his own appreciation of hope that she offered to the tavern. Bull gave a whoop to gain her attention. She smiled at the large Qunari but locked eyes with Cullen. A dangerous smirk curled on her lips.

"Don't do it, kid," Varric said behind him. Cullen looked at him to see. Varric shook his head slowly to warn her. Cullen smirked. Looking back at her, her eyes shifted to Varric, and smiled.

She plucked the strings to make a new song. Her eyes flashing to Varric every so often during the song of seeing the unseen, and of making stories. Of a kind heart hidden behind a deck of cards. But ultimately, of how everyone was mad, including her. And as she smiled, pinned this on Varric as well. Her voice growing deeper as she looked at the dwarf and reminded him to smile, for the world was mad, and so was he.

Uthreida finished the song and bowed to him. Varric gave an annoyed look at her with a two-fingered salute to her. She smiled at it. Her eyes carried over the tavern as she sang another slow song.

Varric chuffed and shuffled the cards again. "Another round?"

Cullen took a drink and tapped the table twice. "Deal me in."

"Aye" Rylen stated with a grin. "I'll take it."

Six hands later and another tankard down, Cullen yawned and realized just how late it was. He stood from the table on wobbled knees, earning a few laughs from the table. Cassandra offered to help him back to his office but he waived it off. Rylen made the same offer, albeit with more teasing. He gave a humbled smile and waived them good night.

The cold air hit him like an ogre and his arms tighter around his core. Cullen took the steps and stopped as he looked over the mountains. The darkness of the sky contrasted against the white of the peaks reflecting the light of the moons. Dots of the night sky making him intake at the majesty for a moment at the Maker's handy work. The cold not bothering him as much.

He smirked as he turned to his office. A sound in the wind made him turn. He looked across the courtyard to the gardens. He should check on her. Make sure she's okay.

His feet managed to find their way to her door. He stood outside the oak door and debated on knocking. He walked all this way to check on her but realized that in his sorry state, how she might intemperate it. A very tipsy Commander, knocking on her door, this late at night.

Her room was dark and he didn't hear anything. He took a breath, fighting the urge to burp, and turned. He didn't want to interrupt.

The sound of a lute in the gardens made him look. He didn't see anyone below but could make out the soft music. His eyes fell to the gazebo with a curious look. He managed his way down the stairs and entered the garden. Passing the chapel, he should pray for the intoxication, but he was drawn to the soft voice that was singing in the gazebo.

He rounded the corner and saw her sitting in a chair with her back to him. One knee lifted as she plucked a few strings. Her soft voice was haunting in a way.

Cullen pushed forward. She turned as he stepped on the stone. She froze as she tried to make him out. "Lovely evening." He said as he approached.

In the darkness, he could make out a smirk. "Aye." She seemed to relax as she turned her back to him. "Am I making too much noise?"

"No." He took the chair next to her and noticed a bottle and her horn cup next to her. She was still drinking. "I came over to check on you, but your door was closed, and"

"You found me." She said with a drunken sarcastic tone.

He chuckled. "So it would appear." He looked over at her and smirked. "You were beautiful tonight." She smiled at the compliment as she slid the lute down. "Uh, the songs were, ah."

She laughed softly and took a drink. "Thank you."

He gave a sheepish nod as he looked over the gardens with her. "How do you feel?"

She took a heavy breath and rolled her shoulders. A smile on her lips. "Better. Like I can let go and not be ashamed of it. To not feel guilty of what happened." She bit her lips in the silence. Her voice was soft, but the smile made it seem like hope. "That it's okay to move on. I know he's with me. Maybe not in spirit, but I know he's in my soul. Which probably isn't a good place. Heart? He's in my heart." She gave a chuckle as she looked over the dark gardens. "I miss him, but" she sighed. "We cannot change the past. Akatosh" she sighed again. "I hope I make him proud. I hope he is proud." There was a break in her voice as she dropped her head. Cullen chewed his lip in the silence. Not sure of what to say or how to comfort. She picked up her cup and held it like a toast. "To Farkas. He wasn't the smartest, the bravest, or even the strongest. But he was a good man. Loyal. Honest. He had a pure heart. And he wasn't afraid to tell you you were wrong." She sniffled and took a slow drink.

Cullen smiled at her. "Tell me about him."

She smiled but hid her face from him. "Serious?"

"Yea. What was he like?"

She paused as she looked over the gardens. "Calm. He was always calm. Unless it was battle or training, he was calm. He was good at talking to people. He was good at persuading them. Helping them. He rarely resorted to anger. He knew that he was a hired sword, but his order was one of honor, and he carried it well. He-" she paused to chuckle. "We were traveling through Winter Hold, Aye? And we get attacked by a frost troll. The next thing I know, I wake up in the College of Winter Hold. We were on our way there anyways, but anyways, one of the students wakes me up and I deck them. Then Tolfdir comes in, and tells me how I arrived." She laughed again. "Apparently, a large black werewolf stormed the gate and was howling for a healer. He held my body for their inspection. When it was obvious he wasn't going to attack, they took me in. Which started this whole-" she waved a dismissive hand with a scoff. She looked over at Cullen. "He was like you. He was hesitant of magic. Like every Nord usually is. But, he was willing to listen." She chuckled again. "Sharpening his weapon as Tolfdir would be teaching the newer students."

Cullen had to smile. The idea of the larger spirit he saw sharpening a blade as some senior enchanter had to stop and glair at the distraction. Only for the spirit to smirk and do it again.

"He was scared of Spiders. Not just the big ones, but the little ones too. I remember-" she stopped to laugh at a memory. "We were in a cave, and I couldn't even tell you where right now. Me, being the greedy dragon I am, look over and see a chest on the other side of this rickety bridge that crossed over this river. So I cross, all the while he's calling me an idiot and telling me to be safe. I walk back across, telling him he was worried about nothing, everything's fine, and the bridge breaks." She chuckled and he had to laugh because, yep, that's his girl. "So I'm falling, and he jumps in after like a complete lunatic. And that river was a rapid. So, fighting the currents, I break the surface and gasp for air, and all along the cave walls are spiders." She laughed at her fear and memory. "So we're hanging on to each other just looking at the walls like 'ahhhhhh' and get pulled under water, then resurface and 'ahhhh." She laughed again, hunching in pain as she relived the memory. Cullen could only bend over and laugh at her laughter. "We finally get to the end of the rapids and we're looking at each other, checking packs, checking wounds, and we hear the skit skit of spiders. We look over and the whole cave is just" she laughed again with wide eyes. "To see this-" she held a hand a foot over her head, then her arms stretched across her chest to show his size. She waved her hands as if to flick off something with a look of fear on her face. She took a deep breath. Cullen could imagine the spirit doing just that to shake off his fear before gathering courage. She laughed again and leaned back. Her hand covering her face as she laughed at the whole ordeal.

Cullen recovered his breath and leaned towards her. "How did you make it out?"

She laughed again. "After he hid behind me, I realized all my arrows got lost in the river. So I force pushed them back and we ran like Molag Bol was behind us. Needless to say, I'm a wee bit scared if spiders too." She laughed again. "The stupid things we got into. Let it be known that neither one of us is very smart. But with our powers combined-" she laughed but finished with a sigh. Her head resting on a hand and a smile on her face. "Gods, I miss that man. And was really good at sneaking. His size and heavy armor, right? But no, I lost him all the time. We'd be in a cave or a bandit hide out. I'd turn because I didn't hear him, damn near have a heart attack because he's right there." She sighed again and slouched in her chair. "We made a good team." She rubbed a hand to her face. "He was better at smithing than me. Because of his size, a lot of armor didn't fit him. It created a need. It was suggested that he was supposed to take over Sky forge after Eorlund-" she stopped. Her face dropping into seriousness and regret. She ran a thumb along her lower lip as she looked at the gardens. A long silent moment passed between them. Cullen was still unsure of what to say. What to do to make her at peace.

"What of you, Commander?" She asked with a grin at him. "Young love?"

He chuckled quickly. Great, this conversation. "Once." He looked at her to see her adjusted with their chin resting on both of her hands as she looked at him with interest. She rolled a hand and smiled for him to speak. He smiled and looked away. "She was a lovely young woman. Very smart. Brave. I stood in her harrowing actually."

She gave an excited intake of air and slapped his arm. "You dog. A mage! And…you a Templar" she said slowly. "By the- what is wrong with you?"

"I never acted on it." He stated quickly to make his defense. "I'm aware my infatuation was inappropriate. I-I never-"

"Calm down. I believe you." She said between giggles. "Still," she tilted her head at him but paused. "I suppose with it being such a small circle of people, your options were limited."

Cullen groaned at her pun. He sighed and leaned back. "She saved the tower when it fell. The Fereldan circle, that is. She" he paused, remembering her look at him in his cell. "She saved me. I'd be dead or mad if it wasn't for her. I was in a sorry state when I saw her after she became a Warden. The things I said were unkind. Untoward. I regret them now." His eyes drew to his clenched fist. He took a breath, releasing his hand. "I wish she knew that."

"What happened to her?"

"She ah," Cullen cleared his throat as he sunk lower in his chair. "She died."

"I'm sorry."

"Slaying the arch demon."

He looked over to see her face scrunch in confusion. "Wait." There it is. "You're first love was the hero of Fereldan?"

"Like I said, brave." He smiled. "Samurilla Surana."

She made a sound like the air was punched from her. "Wait, didn't she and Sister Liliana-" Cullen nodded slowly with a sheepish look. "Oh, Dibella. I bet your war room conferences are awkward."

"Sometimes," he said quickly and cleared his throat. "But we've discussed it, and I think we're past it. At least I am."

"Meaning?"

Cullen looked at her but dropped his gaze when she tilted her head for him to speak. He left the question unanswered as he wasn't sure of it either. The winter wind blowing and making the tree groan with it.

"To young love." She lifted her tankard to him a toast. "May we never feel its wrath again."

"Cheers." He took a drink after her and passed it back. She took it and poured some out onto the ground. They sat in the silence of the wind, letting the cold envelope them in the gazebo. "How's your um, your blade project?"

She looked at him confused. "Oh. I grinded, added a handle, and polished it today. I wanted to run a few tests to check the smithing for the damascus. I wonder if Blackwall would be willing to carve the pommel for me."

Cullen lowered his brows. "What's damascus?"

"It's a type of steel only found in Yokuda. I suppose demascus isn't the proper word. Crucible steel may be the better term."

"What is it?"

"It's where you take low carbon steel, mix in some high carbon steel, sand, and bits of glass and charcoal. Having the two types of steel gives it flexibility from the low carbon but an edge from the high carbon. Anyways, using Crucible methods, you melt it in an ingot. After that, beat until desired results."

"What did you make it from?"

"Eh, quicksilver and ebony. Or, whatever you people call it. I used dragon bones to make the charcoal and flux. I would love to learn how to make the Akavari folded steel, but" she sighed, taking another drink.

"You don't know." He said with a smirk.

She sighed as she looked over the garden. "It doesn't exist anymore."

Cullen looked away in thought. "Why are you making a fourth blade? Who's it for?"

"Me." She stated quickly. "I broke the other one."

Cullen looked at her confused. "You never said."

"I broke it killing the last dragon."

"You broke your dragon blade?" He said more concerned. Not only for her wellbeing but now for her standing and contract.

"Aye. Let's hope this works. I spoke to Dagna who knows a rune for dragons. Tomorrow, I maybe squeeze in some of our methods and hopefully make it a bit more powerful."

"How do you enchant?" He asked, realizing he never asked before.

"Soul gems."

"What's a soul gem?"

"It's a gem." She said with furrowed brows. "With a soul."

"Wait," he looked at her with confusion. "You made a blade in a week and came up with four songs?"

She lowered a brow at him. "Three original songs. Aye." He waved a hand for her to elaborate. "And I already had most of the blade completed. The smithing allows my mind to wonder. And would work on the composition on the other half of the day."

"Head injury, Utha, that's what I'm getting at." He said more annoyed.

"It's fine," she waved it off but moved like she was holding back a burp. "I stopped when it hurt. I rested."

He gave a deep sigh. "You know, your absolute refusal to calm down and rest makes all your theories make sense."

"Aye, I know." She said with a wide grin at him. Too large for the situation.

He grunted. "How is your lyrium theory going?"

"I'm right, you just refuse to admit."

Cullen jut his jaw at her. "Based on?"

"Absolutely nothing." He sighed at her lack of a response. "There's too much history and not enough time for me to explain. And even then, you're trying too hard to maintain your own sanity that asking you to delve into mine will only tip you over the edge. As much as it may surprise you, I do care."

"Aww." He said deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "Are you done?" Her voice lowered and a pull of her lips made the sentence a childish reprisal of his own actions.

He only looked annoyed but still smiled at her. "Tings need stuff to live. All con'ected, aye." He mocked in his own high pitch. She leaned forward to hide her laughter. "Ve are vne. Is all tha' same." She waved a hand to make him stop. He looked her over and smiled. It filled him with a warmth to see her happy. They sat in silence again. Letting the night carry on.

She slapped his shoulder to look as she pointed. Lady Morrigan was making her way around the gardens but turned into a room at the edge of the walkway. "How long has that hagraven been here?"

Cullen scratched his chin in thought. "Few weeks?"

She looked at him with wide eyes and sighed. "I do not pay enough attention."

Cullen chuckled. "Well, you've either been at the forges or in my quarters, so" he shrugged it off.

"Still, what's she doing here?"

Cullen waved a dismissive hand. "Orleasian court lesion, or something. All I know she's, how do I put this?"

"A bitch?"

He arched a brow at her choice. "A bit prickly."

She scoffed at his response. "You're so polite."

"It takes little effort." He shot her a pointed expression that she should probably listen to.

She only smirked crookedly at it. But she watched Lady Morrigan again. "Where is she going?"

Cullen chuckled. "What, you want to follow?"

Uthreida paused as if to consider it. "I'm too drunk to care."

Cullen laughed at her honest assessment. He shook his head, remembering Uthreida had met her at Halamshiral. Where they danced. Where he held her and felt…something. "How do your people dance?"

"Ha?"

"Come on." He placed the tankard down and stood. "Show me." He held a hand for her to rise.

She looked at his hand then at him slowly. "Are you serious?"

"I may be a little drunk." He admitted quietly. "Come on."

"Two drunkards in a row boat. Why not." She took his hand and stood beside him. His closest arm to hers was held over her chest above her breast as hers sent over his chest. Their hands held. "It's a three-beat tempo. So." She lead him in a circle, counting to three, three times. On the third, she changed sides but held their arms at the same place, slowly moving in a circle. She counted to three while smiling at him trying to figure it out. Cullen tried to bite back the smile as he watched her feet as she lead.

She stood before him, taking both of his hands in hers. "Ready?" She counted to three as she lifted their arms up and spun. "You spin to. Again. One-two" Cullen raised his arms and spun with her, keeping their hands touching as they spun in a circle three times to her cadence. "Now just me." She lifted her hand above her head with his hand as she said the cadence to three. "Now you." Cullen took the cue and kept with her rhythm as he spun three times in the circle she lead. Their hands staying connected as he spun. "Here's where it gets fun. I spin for three bars while you peruse then switch. Ready." She spun away from him and Cullen watched with a smile as she counted. She came out of her spins and looked at him. She counted as she closed in on him. He smiled and spun like she did, trying to get away.

"And then, we do it again. Only this time," she moved his arms so his closest was over the small of her back and hers over his. They spun again in their large circle as she counted. "And switch sides."

Cullen's foot caught in the chairs and he had to brace himself. Uthreida held him by the waist to keep him from falling over only to fall into him. Cullen laughed as she did into his back. "I think we need a bigger dance area."

"Like Halamshiral?"

Cullen laughed at her comment. "Makers breath, never again." She laughed with him as he turned to look at her. She kept her hands about his waist to keep him steady. He leaned to her with a smile and granted the hug.

"Thank you, Cullen. I do appreciate everything you do for me. Dare I say, you're a good man."

He smiled at her teasing compliment. "Now, whatever gave you that idea?"

"How you listen. How you comfort." There was a husk to her voice even if she didn't look at him. "You're not the man I expected when we first met. Or got married to for that matter." She chuckled into his chest.

A warm heat pool in his chest as his heart beat faster. "You certainly know how to make a man blush."

"Well, Commander," she said, rolling his title on her tongue and making his stomach tighten.

In his drunken stupor, he pulled her closer, rocking his weight to throw her off, and made her laugh as she could only follow his lead. She began to laugh at his antics.

He tilted her chin and kissed her. Tasting the sweetness of the ale on her upper lip. The warmth of her body pressed against his. The scent of thistle filled his lungs as he breathed her in. His heart beating against the rock in his stomach of anxiety and shoving his ineptitude aside. He couldn't breathe, scared to lose her sent and unable to take in more. His body over heating but willing to walk into the pyre of her heat. He became enraptured as she clung to his shirt over his heart, and the gentleness when she kissed him back.

Feeling her reciprocation, he breathed hard. Any shred of decency vanished as he was consumed in desperation. Scared that this too will be taken from him by the blue water rapids of the lyrium. Bending further to hold her in his arms. She stepped back and he followed. Pushing her into the wall as her hands snaked up his back and clutched his shirt. Maker, he breathed again, her scent, her taste, the way her lips took his and molded, her hot breath on his cold skin. How her thigh raised over his and sent shivers and goosebumps over his body. Her soft trousers and full rear in his hand. The softness of her skin under his thumb.

She pulled away.

Cullen caught his breath over her lips as they stood in silence. Panting. Realizing what just happened. He was torn between doing it again to get the high he missed and not wanting to lose her. Lose this…whatever they were.

"We're drunk." She said slowly, a smile on her lips.

Cullen cleared his throat and stood to his full height. "Yes, yes we are." He was quick to agree. Not sure if the embarrassment was from what he just did or what he thought he would never do.

"This is the worst time" she said through laughter. Cullen nodded. "Gods, I'm a mess." She hid her face in her hands and laughed. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry." He realizes he started to slur. "That one's- that's on me. I'm sorry. That was uh-" he smiled as he looked at her, looking at him through her fingers, "that was really nice." He looked away, asking himself if 'nice' was the appropriate word choice at that moment.

A blushing smile crossed her face and she dropped her head. "This is the worst timing."

"Right."

"I'm supposed to be slaying dragons, finding my way home, forcing kings to talk-"

"I'm supposed to be reigniting order back into the chantry, not-" he waved a hand at her.

"Aye!"

"Yea, worse timing."

"I agree entirely." She waved a hand between them and made a disgusted sound.

"Yes." He nodded drunkenly

"Eh," She waved a dismissive hand. "Another life maybe."

"Yea." He nodded again but thought about it. "How would that look? Exactly?" She cocked a brow at him. "This other life?"

She looked away in drunken thought. "I don't know."

He took a step closer to her. "Are we happy?"

She paused to consider it. "No."

"Perfect." He said with a smirk. She threw her head back and laughed. Cullen had to shush her to keep silent. She leaned forward, her hand on his chest to keep her balance as she laughed to herself. She fanned her face as she looked at him.

She shook her head in shame at him with a smile on her lips. "Unhappiness is far more common. I suppose."

"Yea."

"Aye."

He nodded at her. His hand going to his lower lip that was still wet from her lips. "A favor, if you'll indulge me." She looked up at him with drunken glassy eyes. He stepped into her space, his arm resting on the wood of the lattice behind her. She placed a hand to his chest but didn't push. Tapping the liquid courage, he placed a tentative hand on her hip. He leaned into her, his forehead resting on hers with eyes closed, and whispered, "One more, that I can't blame on the drink?"

An eternity of a full second ticked, when her warm lips brushed his. He turned to feel her against him again. He inhaled deeply as his arm dropped to hold her waist, his other hand holding her head to him. Wishing her hair was down so he could hold it again. Keeping her close. She pressed against him again, and he was all too quick to comply. Forming his body around her, fisting his hand into her shirt at her back. Maker, this felt right.

He pulled away, asking for one. He exhaled hard as his heart was beating out of his chest. "Maker, I love your scent." His graveled whisper silenced as he kissed her forehead. He took a step back. Panting to get his breathing under control. Her eyes met his and he dropped his gaze so she couldn't see the pride-filled smile. It took more effort than he'd like to admit in removing his hands from her waist and neck. "I'll, uh," he cleared his throat as he took another step back. "I'll leave you to the gardens." He gave a stupid nod. "Good night, Uthreida." He said her name in her traditional pronouncement. He looked at her with a blushing smile on her face.

"Good night, Yovon Valok."

He stepped away from her, a smile on his face at her teasing. When he was out of her sight, and the eyes of his soldiers, he allowed a small victory pump of his fisted hand. He touched his lips and felt his heart race again at the memory. With a smile on his face, he tried not to think of the regret that would fill him tomorrow as he just showed his promised demise his heart.

---

An:

Avvar Camp Songs inspiration:

Payton Parrish- Skol, Fall into Me, and Ragnarok – OMG check these, now

Tavern songs inspiration:

Sean James - Son of the wolf

Wardrunda- Skugdda

Peita-Blessed we are