AN: OMG 100 Followers. Like, you guys, like, I'm blushing. You're beautiful.
His hand fisted as he read the report.
Too many Red Templars. Too deeply entrenched. Will return with more men. Heading to the Emerald Graves next.
Cullen squinted at the page. He took a breath and smirked. The only good thing out of this whole ordeal is the expression the Inquisitor will make when he realizes Cullen's men had a two-week head start on the area before Royoc arrives. Hopefully, Royoc should be able to show up, close rifts, and be on his way. Hoping Captain Cambril had enough resources and can use Chevalier Hewlett well enough in the area.
Uthreida entered the east door fully decked and ready for war. He hid his eyes. Trying not to think of her smile or gentle pressing of her lips. Trying to not think of how she's about to mock him. "Are you heading out now?"
"Where am I going?"
Cullen looked up and tried to look higher than her lips. "Has Cassandra not informed you?"
She looked genuinely confused for a moment. "No?"
"Right." He stood from his desk and opened a map for her to see. "Your little Avvar tribe made good on their word." He pointed to a region south of them. Uthreida stepped closer to look at the map and all he could taste was her scent. "He ah, made arrangements with a tribe to the south. But apparently, they're having some issues with the locals. You, Cassandra, Tamar, and Lady Vivienne are to go sort out the process and see what needs to be accomplished in the area. Your Avvar will be there to guide you through."
She looked away from the map to him with concern. "Is that a good idea?"
He lowered his brows. "This was your idea."
"I mean the team. Aren't both Vivienne and Cassandra next to be the queen of the Chantry?"
He chuckled at her phrase. "Divine. The next Divine. Yes."
"And you want both to" she waved a hand at the map. "With the possibility of death? Both?"
He crossed his arms to keep some distance. "What would you suggest then?"
"Bull? No, he's too impulsive. Cole for Vivienne."
He sighed. "You need a mage." She shot him a look of boredom. She did fit the bill but, "one that actually knows how to control and understands Theosdian based magic."
Her look of argument died quickly as she retreated her hand with a sneer of consideration. "Dorian."
"Is with Royoc."
"Fine. Solas then."
"Oh, is he packed and ready?"
She snapped her jaw. "He can be." She sighed. "Who's the other person?"
"Tamar. She's one of our soldiers in the field."
"And she is," she asked slowly to allow him to answer.
"She was a prisoner in Haven who is still with us. She knows about dragons and can help."
"So does Breaker Thram but I'm not requesting her either. Come on. Why her?"
Cullen sighed. "She was part of the dragon cult that was in the mou-"
"No."
"No?"
"No. She loves dragons. Do you really think we're going to get along? Or even Cassandra Pentagust? Of the dragon hunter family, Pentaghust. No."
"Fine, Thram it is."
She curled her lips back slowly to show a distaste. "Varric. Give me Varric."
"He's working with Lady Josephine on a recent project."
"Fine. Cole."
"Wait, what do you have against Thram?"
"She's bloodthirsty. All she sees is the hunt. With little to no deeper understanding, or respect, of the creatures."
He blinked slowly. "Tamar does. Respects them, I mean."
"Aye, but a wee bit too much." She made a pained expression to make her point. "Don't get me wrong, the conversation would be interesting, but in terms of battle cohesion-" she shrugged with a sigh. "Not to mention balance."
Cullen rolled his eyes and took a breath, hating that her scent filled his core with a heat he couldn't control. "What part of 'I assign your teams' do you not understand?"
"The part where I have to work with them." She arched a brow of defiance at him. She took a quick breath with closed eyes and all he could remember from her blushing smile. "I would like to trade Vivienne for Solas."
"And Tamar, a combat and dragon veteran, who also, apparently, respects them, for Cole."
"Fine, give me Overbridge."
"What, no." He pinched the bridge of his nose to breathe at her insistence. "The team is the team. Leave it."
"Solas and Cole or I ride solo."
"You can't just walk in here and start making demands."
"Fine." She shrugged. "Me and Tamar. Two dragons on the open road. Only one makes it back alive. I'll let you guess who wins."
"Her? If I'm lucky." She gave a single jut of a laugh and crossed her arms. Looking at him to make his next move. His nose twitched. The only thing she was right on is the fact that two replacements for the Divine were about to walk into a barbarian encampment. And Cassandra needed out of the hold for the sake of the training dummies. "Fine, take Solas."
"And?"
"Don't test my patience."
She gave an annoyed sound but took a step back. "Thank you." She scathed with a deep bow.
"You're quite welcome" he hissed. Cullen licked his lips and stepped back. She was too close and he was already on the edge of madness. He wanted to touch her again. He passively wondered if he could hold her while both were in armor. "Right. The Inquisitor is pushing west. Rylen is leaving today to push for the Western Approach. Hopefully, he can make it quickly as he will be leaping over the other Inquisition sites to the desert. But we need that valley open to move the bulk of our numbers silently over the mountains. I know I don't need to tell you how important this is. Or remind you that this was all your idea."
"I'll take care of it, Valok, don't worry."
His stomach clenched at the pet name and so did his fist. Even though he had no idea what it meant, it meant something to her. Which meant he meant something to her, right? He clenched his jaw and swallowed back the feel of her pressed against him. "Is your horse packed?"
"No."
He grunted. "Are you packed?"
"Aye."
"New weapon?"
"Got it." She said with a hand on a pommel that looked like her other sheathed blade. A brow arched at him to see if he was finished.
"Good." He cleared his throat quickly and retreated a step. He took a breath of air without her scent and looked away. "That'll be all."
She bit her lips sheepishly and adverted her gaze. Awkward seconds ticked when she didn't move. "So that happened." She tilted her head comically with a smile. Her look of social awkwardness making it clear what she was talking about.
Cullen threw his head back and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop this. "Do you really want to talk about this? Now? Before you leave?"
She rolled her hands into fists in an unsettling frustration. "I think, that this, is important. It's, ah, an additional layer in our, erm, relationship. And it's obviously causing a…block and, something, and" she sighed and deflated her shoulders. "Aye. I think it's important and-"
"It's not important. And distracts from what is important. Like bringing down Corypheus. We need to focus. I need to focus on-"
She rolled her eyes and head as she took a step towards him. "Look, there's no need to be defensive. It happens. We were drunk-."
"What? That's not an excuse."
"It happens. It's fine."
"How often does this happen with you?"
"Do you really want a number?"
He paused, seeing her pained expression. Not really. "Kind of?"
She bit her lips. "Once, but-"
"Including or-" he waved a hand between them to make his question. Her awkward look away and pained expression showcasing that this was a first for her. He threw his hands up exasperated.
"Look, we spend a lot of time together. And, sometimes-"
"Unwilling time."
She dropped her hands and gave him a look of malice. "So that's how this is going to be?"
Cullen arched his back and stood taller. "This is exactly why we don't need to discuss this."
She shook her head. "This" she waved a hand between them, "is exactly why we have to. I understand you're a wee bit prudish and, possibly, inexperienced, given the reddening of your ears. I'll admit you have horrible timing, but-"
"Me? You-" he raised a hand at her but looked away to hide what he wanted to say. She kissed him back. She reciprocated. She wants him as much as he wants- He's not the only one with horrible timing. She made a sound to interrupt him with a hand to match. He scoffed. "So what, you're completely innocent in all of this? I'm the-"he looked behind him to make sure they were alone and lowered his voice, "the drooling drunken lecher here?"
"No, but-"
"Oh, here we go." He scathed as he crossed his arms.
She matched his posture and expression of rage. "Look, I'm not asking for purple mountain flowers or anything, I just" she blew out her held breath and looked away. "Where do we stand and is it going to affect" she waved a hand to the door behind her and then his desk.
"You're asking me?"
"You initiated." She accused.
Cullen groaned. "You" he growled, wanting to remind her that she reciprocated. He wanting to blame her for driving it in but knew she was right.
"You're the one in charge."
"Oh, now you recognize rank."
"Well, now that you're" she waved a vague hand at him, "with subordinates." His nose twitched at her comment as he wanted to strangle her. "As you're apparently prone to do."
His jaw dropped. A white-hot rage filled him as he couldn't even look at her. How dare she use his shame now. "Really?" He asked when he could find a tone that didn't scream. "You're going there? Now?"
She sighed in guilt. "You're right, that was unkind of me. I'm sorry." She said with closed eyes. She took a deep breath and backed off. "Look" she rubbed her neck in unease. "I get it. I'm just another savage to you. I just need to know your thoughts. So I know where you stand so I can adjust where I stand."
Cullen looked away. He swallowed back his desire to correct her perception of him. So he didn't beg her not to move. To stay at his side. He sneered at his heart as he let his mind dictate. She deserved better. She wasn't his to keep. This is temporary. All of this is temporary. He was too broken. And she's broken and it just-it can't work. Right? Two jagged pieces of glass don't make a window. Throw it away, before- a cold blade slipped past his ribs as he tried to tell himself to stop feeling. He crossed his arms to prevent his heart from jumping from his chest, running across the office, and humping her leg. "A drunken dalliance. A safe distraction. Nothing more."
She was silent and he dared not look at her from his lie. She tapped her armor in thought. He needed to push her away. He wanted safety. And what she offered was…was too much. Too…he clenched his jaw to not think of what this could become. "That's all I needed to know." She said coldly. Her words cutting him like a piece of sharpened ice.
Cullen closed his eyes as she walked away. He didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to fight him like she always did. Prove him wrong.
He stood three as the door opened. He wanted her to come back so this can grow into something even the lyrium couldn't take. To feel something again.
The door closed and he exhaled. His hands fisted and he tightened his jaw. Coward.
The door flew open and she stood there with a finger pointed at him and an argument on her tongue. She growled in frustration and slammed the door again behind her. Cullen laughed at her from behind the closed door. She knew him too well to let him lie but couldn't do anything less her own intentions show. And she can't be seen as weak. He smiled at his feet, knowing her as well as he did. He looked at the door, remembering her hand over his heart, the clutch of his shirt, the feel of her in his arms. "I'll miss you too." He whispered to his empty office. His eyes drifted to his loft, wondering how long her scent will stay on the sheets. "Maker, watch over her. Please. I know she's not yours but" he smirked again, remembering the warm tingling in his hands from her body thrum through his. Of sweet lips hiding a sharp tongue. Thick armor protecting a soft heart. "She's mine. And I am yours. Keep her safe."
Xxxx
Stop thinking about it. She screamed internally. A dalliance. Apparently. But…he…She sighed it off. Fine.
Fine.
A dalliance. A distraction. A drunken distraction. Fine. It's not like she enjoyed it. Or even realized it's what she wanted. Or set her aflame with-
Fine. A dalliance. Fine.
Even if he was obviously lying and pushing her away. Even if his actions prior showed something more. Even if he was willing to try before. No, fine. A distraction. Fine.
Skeever ass.
It's not like she wanted any of this. Or that. Or the way his hands trailed over her body in such a tantalizing torture that-ah, It just happened. Fine. A distraction? Son of a sow.
She growled, leading Ragnar around a fallen log.
Nothing more. Is he serious? Like his scent of oakmoss, sage, and elder leaves didn't send her back to Riften with the feel of his leather jerkin clutched in her hand. It's not like the taste of his lips reminded her of the Whiterun meadery. The heat of his breath like the hearth of her home in Falkreith. Dalliance. Show him a dalliance.
…Wait.
This is stupid.
She rolled her eyes and ignored the conversations around her from the followers. Insolent. Little. Meant nothing. Fuck you, Templar. Bitch, she meant everything.
To the world. She's…super important. In Skyrim. And the Inquisition.
Nothing. Tsk.
Nothing catches his attention unless is 'army army army' or 'mages are mean' or 'one I can't blame on the drink.' Her core heated at how his voice, husked and eager and raw, whispered into her lips.
She scowled at the dirt road. Nothing. It meant nothing.
She meant nothing to him? She is his wife.
It's not like she was just able to let Farkas go. It's not like the world is falling all around them. It's not like her world just got bigger. How small she felt in his arms. How powerless she was to push him away. That boyish smile as he said it was nice. She almost laughed at the choice of words. Her knees, still weak as she tasted her lips when he left.
She shook her head. Stop it.
This is why they needed to talk and he just cast her aside because of…something. Some reason he couldn't even say. Let alone meet her gaze.
Know what, it's fine. Fine. He's her sworn death. It's fine. If anything, this is just fuel for the fire. It's fine. It doesn't matter. He's an arrogant, single-minded, narrow-sighted, brute who wouldn't stand a chance in a real battle. He wouldn't have the courage to meet her on the shore.
Nothing more than a damn battle goat. Whatever.
All his 'you're my wife' rhetoric. And 'I'll catch you' and, 'I thought it was more permanent.' Or 'I just want to see you safe.' Lies. What a poisonous cushioned bed of lies.
Her nose twitched in anger as they crested another hill.
Nothing more. Pfft. What a joke. That she's now the butt of. Thank you, Mara, for this wondrous humility.
He's getting too close. That's the real problem. She needed to push him back. See how he likes it.
Cassandra grabbed her by the reins to stop her. "Slayer, pay attention." The Seeker roared in her face.
Uthreida looked around her quickly for enemies and didn't see any. "What?" She growled.
"We're going that way." She pointed over Uthreidas shoulder towards the south where she and Ragnar were pointed east. Uthreida took a breath and wiped her face. "Apologies, I was" she left it. Clicking her tongue, she guided Ragnar back on the right path. A disgruntled sound from Cassandra behind her as Ragnar trotted to the team of Solas and Cole. She kept her eyes adverted as she caught up. Cassandra took point again. Uthreida slowed, taking in the scenery of Fereldan as she rode with a calmer mind.
"Slayer." Solas leaned into her from his horse. She looked over at him to see an annoyed brow. "Cole has been trying to speak to you for twenty minutes. Would it be too much of a bother for you to pull your head back and speak to him?"
Uthreida looked over her shoulder at the boy who was riding a grey spotted horse, his hat hung low to hide his face, his shoulder curled in dejection. She lowered her brows at her little sweet roll. Feeling guilty for making him feel like that. In her anger, she didn't even realize that Cullen had succumbed to her desire for Cole on her team. Her anger was blinding her. She nodded to Solas and pulled back in the reins to wait for Cole to catch up. He rode to her side but didn't acknowledge her. Guilt ripped at her chest as she looked at the boy. "Cole?" She said softly, leaning to see him under the brim of his hat. He didn't look at her. She sighed and leaned back. "I'm sorry, Cole, I was-" she looked at him and smirked. "You know where I was. There's no sense in lying to you."
"You can't lie." He said softly. "Lies drag you under the water when your wings need air to soar."
She smirked, knowing he was right. Her power was her truth, and her truth was her Thu'um. To dominate. She looked at him, and his hunched form. "I shouldn't have ignored you, Cole. I'm sorry."
"Nothing, nothing, I am nothing? Heat-filled forge, scorched the hammer. White-hot flames in hearts and throats of power." He looked at her and tilted his head. "You are angry."
"Rage." She said kindly. "Dragons rage consumes everything. It kills everything. Including friendships and happier times." She chewed her lip as she looked at him. "Even those who want to help."
He looked ahead, sitting straighter on his horse. "But the rage is a mask." His inflection making it sound like a question. "So many masks to hide the hurts. Of wood and of ebony and of gold." He tilted his head slightly. "Why is the gold one different?"
She looked confused at the question only to realize he spoke of Miraak. "He's, not what he once was. I think. I don't know. He changed his mask to match his master."
He looked away slowly. "Miss Uthreida, why are you disappointed?"
She looked at him with a question. Was she disappointed? While she didn't want to say, he already knew. But it still raised the question of why did he ask in the first place. Why was she mad at a man who made a bad choice? Who made her feel safe just to cast her aside. One who listened and wasn't afraid. To make her feel like she was with people rather than watched, waiting to pay their bets when she turned into the monster their history warned them of. To finally give in and become Mirrak. Why was she angry at a man who pushed her away for his own safety? For his own standing. For his gods. A pagan? What was she thinking? It could never work. "I shouldn't be. I know that" she finally said. "It seemed like a great idea at the time."
"Sweet thistle like home, eyes as beautiful as the chant and a tongue that lights the fire once forgotten. Maker, this feels right."
The breathless pant of the Makers name and cadence of his voice, the slight articulation in his words drew her back to last night. He was in Cullen's head. "Cole." She warned softly. "I don't want to know-"
"Stained glass embedded in skin. Too easily broken to remove. Too scared to pull to let in the healing but pushing deeper to feel pain. Fear replaces peace and death of friendship. What have I done?"
Uthreida clenched her jaw as he spoke. This is wrong. She shouldn't know his mind like this. His thoughts are his own. His mind is his own. "Cole." She warned again. "Stop."
He looked at her with a tilted hat. "He's scared of-"
"No." She said quickly. She looked away to let the reverence of hearing it fill her heart. "No. He has to say it. He-" she clenched her jaw.
"You want the hurt." He said softly. "So that it means something. So that the nothing can become something."
She looked at Cole quickly but adverted her eyes. "Mortals have a tendency to run from pain. But the truth is, we love it. We want it. We need it. Pain is" she looked around them for a muse. "It makes us stronger. Some are more equipped to deal with it. To use it like furs. Made of dead things, but it keeps us warm. Others need compassion, like you." She smiled warmly at him. "People who are eager to help."
He tilted his head at her, a frown on his lips. "Which are you?"
She smiled at him with all of her teeth. "I sleep in a metaphorical mountain of furs." She took a breath and surveyed the road they walked on. "Each is a victory in its own right."
"What do you do with the furs?"
She paused. Unsure of what he was getting at. "How do you mean?"
"Fur can be made into leather, like da and Uncle taught you. Leather can be made into armor."
She arched a brow. "Also true."
"You have furs, but what do you do with them?"
"Uhh?" The idea of a massive leather armor crossed her mind made from the flesh of those she's either killed, betrayed, or hurt her.
"Cold creeping, hands numb. White winter whooshes in weathered windows." He said to the distance. "You could give them your furs. So that others stay warm."
She chuckled at the boy. "That's, uh, not what I meant."
"But so many people are cold."
She smiled, but when she looked at him, she grinned. "You know what's warmer than furs?"
"Blankets?"
"That too. Fire. Fire is hotter."
He looked away quickly as if to think. "Doesn't fire mean anger?"
Uthreida lowered her brows. No longer knowing where the analogies started or ended in this conversation. "Blankets. Let's go with blankets of compassion are warmer than furs of pain or the fire of anger."
Cole tilted his head. "But I'm not a blanket."
She smirked at him. "You are the best kind of blanket."
"But you don't like blankets. You like furs."
She blinked slowly at him. "Okay, I'm starting to get confused. Do you want to play a game?"
"Okay."
"Pick an object, describe one thing about it, and I have to guess what it is." After twenty minutes of guessing, she gave up. Only for him to have described trust as an abstract thought. She quickly didn't want to play anymore.
Xxxx
Uthreida arched a brow as she approached the base of the hill. Karl Conant and a few of his men stood with him. His twin braided beard parted slightly as he smiled. "Lady." He gave a bow to her as did his men.
"Karl Conant." She nodded to him and his four men. "So this is Stone Bear Hold."
"It's up the hill." He looked her over and furrowed his brows. "Is that blood on your armor?"
She sighed annoyed. She looked over at Cassandra and Cole. Both had blood on their clothing as well. "Aye." She used the black fabric of her banner to wipe off her armor quickly. "Some people were roughing up the fisher. Called me a low lander for interfering and engaged."
"Ah." He smirked. "Sounds like Hakkonnites."
Uthreida arched a brow at him. "Hakkonnites?"
"Followers of Hakkon."
Her eyes grew wide at the memory of the vampire overlord. Grey skin and sharp teeth. 'What say you', fires an arrow, Serana looked at her with rage, 'I panicked'. "Who?"
"Hakkon?" He said with lowered brows. "The god of winter and war."
"Whaaat does he look like?"
"A spirit." He said confused.
"Of?"
"Winter and war. Are you alright?"
She gave a guarded laugh but cleared her throat. "So, run me through the situation."
Conant crossed his arms and sighed. "I found a valley your Inquisition can use. Problem is, it's being overrun by the Hakkonnites. The ones you met. Stone Bear Hold is willing to offer trade and escort but" he rubbed his neck and paused. "There are contingencies."
"Of course."
He turned and Uthreida followed. "Thane Svarah opened the lands to the Hakkonnites, but now are taking advantage of the hospitality. They raid neighboring clans and are checking the capability of the people." Uthreida nodded as she became flanked by his men. Cassandra elbowed her way to keep up. "The Thane wanted to meet with the Inquisitor, but you got here first. Her people are here and would like a word. Be on guard." He said quickly. "The Hakkonnites Thane is here to."
"Great." She stated deadpanned. "So, knowing it's me and not the Inquisitor, what kind of reception should I be preparing for? Specifically, because I can't close the rifts."
He gave a chuckle as they climbed the hill. "I'm sure she would welcome the Lady of the Sky into her hold." He shot her a forced smile that she returned.
"Fantastic." Introductions based on a god she doesn't even know in their own right. Awesome.
"What is that commotion?" Cassandra asked as they approached the interior of the village. There was a loud celebration of sorts as they entered the hold. Conant looked about them and laughed. Uthreida followed his eyes to see two men climbing the sheer side of a cliff. She looked at Conant with a brow.
"Trial of the Lady." He jutted his chin to the people climbing. "I'm guessing they're arguing over rights of land." She must have made a confused face because he smiled. "The Thane can use different trials to settle disputes. I believe you're well acquainted with the Trial of Korth?" She gaged slightly at the memory of the mead. Conant laughed as he watched the contestants for a moment.
"An interesting way to appease the spirits," Solas said, tilting his head in appreciation at the climbers.
"That's the Thane." Conant pointed behind them to two individuals who stood on a platform. One was taller and dressed in black and white furs while the other was substantially shorter and in regular furs and a hood. Conant started to walk and she took his side. "The bigger is the Thane of the Hakkonnites. You need to convince Thane Svarah Sun Hair."
Conant approached the Thane with a nod. The woman gave a smirk. The larger man looked at him, his attire. Both of their eyes turned to her. Their eyes looking down her black ebony armor, three weapons on her hips, and the banner of the Inquisition over her leg. The man scoffed. "This is not my hold, low lander." He unfurled his arms and stepped off the platform as she bit her tongue at his comment. She forgot how much anger filled her at that phrase. "You will face the blades of the Jaws of Hakkon soon enough." She arched a brow at his departure. Following him with her eyes only. He walked with a slight limp. Right knee.
"Is this the Inquisitor, Conant?" The woman said. Uthreida turned to greet her with a polite smile.
Conant smirked. "No, Thane. This is the dragon slayer. The Lady incarnate. Thane Storm Blade."
The Thane nodded. "We've heard of your arrival, Low landers," she grit her teeth again, "come, share my fire where we might speak." The Thane walked past them and headed up the cliffside.
Uthreida arched a brow at Conant who tilted his head for her to follow. Uthreida jutted her jaw. "You called me Thane yet she calls me low lander."
Conant smirked. "You're not Avvar." She grunted. "And you wear the heraldry of the low lands. Of their gods."
She made an annoyed grunt as they walked towards the entrance of an arched cave. Conant whistled quickly and made a motion to his men. They stood aside and let Uthreida and her people enter. Uthreida looked at Cassandra with a brow. Cassandra gave a nod, allowing her to lead during their interactions with the Avvar. Uthreida stepped in first and took in the sight of the cave. The Thane sat on a throne of what looked like shark teeth above her. A mighty victory. To her right were three men. One in leathers and a hood, one in thicker furs and a larger build, and an older man in thin leathers. A bow strapped to his back.
The Thane stood to greet them. "Welcome to Stone Bear Hold, Inquisition. I am Thane Svarah Sun Hair. I lead this hold. This is my Auger, Trainer, Arrken, and Master of the Hunt, Helsment. You have guest welcome here."
Uthreida placed a hand to her heart. "Thank you, Thane. I am Uthreida Storm Blade. Thane to five holdings in my land. This is Seeker Cassandra, Master Solas, and…Cole."
"Hello." He said with a chipper tone.
Uthreida smiled as the Avvar looked at him curiously. "You have met my Karl, Conant. He leads the clan at the base of Skyhold to offer welcome to others who have been displaced by the war that is ravaging southern Thedas."
Sun Hairs eyes shifted to Conant for a moment. "He has. He's spoken of his mission to ally the Avvar clans. For the safety of the Inquisition. Your group has done much to heal the wounds of the Sky. We are grateful. Though, I've never heard of the title of Karl before. Is that a low lander title for those beneath you?"
Uthreida took a breath, reminding herself she's in a different place. They don't know better. "Where I am from, the rank structure is King, who oversights the lands, they are broken down into holdings and overseen by a Jarl. The Jarl then appoints Thanes to act as champions or the voice of the people during Things, and the Karl is the Thanes second hand."
"I believe the low landers call them squires." The Auger said to Sun Hair.
Uthreida grit her teeth again. She had heard of the phrase squire before, but it was more of a slave state in Highrock than Skyrim. "As a Karl, he is my eyes and ears where I am needed elsewhere. He covers for me when I am otherwise occupied."
She nodded at the concept. "You are training him to be a Thane?"
She looked at Conant who was silent during this. He held a look of boredom more than anything with his arms crossed over his bare chest. "If that is a path he chooses to follow, I will not stand in his way."
Svarah leaned back on her throne. "You and your people have come far from the safety of the low lands."
Uthreida grounded her teeth again. "I am not a low lander." She stated with more anger than she was intending. To keep lumping her with the Imperials was starting to grate.
Sun Hair arched a brow at her tone. "You wear the vestments of them. You walk with them, so I call you, low lander."
"Low lander?" Uthreida snapped with disgust. "You think me a low lander?" She stood to the Thane. Sun Hair kept her seat, her hand inching to her axe. "I hail from the motherland of mountains and skies. I am the descendent of the people of ice and snow." She turned her attentions to the Auger. "I have climbed the Throat of the World, the highest mountain, and seen the vastness of my people." She turned to the trainer. "I have spoken with those who dare not speak, less their voices shake the world. I helped my people to save them from sun from being blotted out of the sky." She turned to the Master of the Hunt. "I have seen Alduin, the dragon of the end of time, and I slid my blade through his heart." She turned back to Sun Hair, who tilted her head at the impertinent dragon. "I have ended wars with no blood on my blade as much as I have started them. I have ridden a dragon to mountain passes dare not attempted by mortals. I am Yesimer of the North. I am the last Dovahkiin. I am Skyrim." She held her arms wide as six red spirits entered the cave above them. All eyes turned to the ceiling to see the spirits but Uthreida kept her eyes on Sun Hair. Uthreida breathed deeply, watching Sun Hair look to her people and the spirits that filled her throne. Uthreida scoffed. "And you call me a low lander."
Sun Hair looked to her, a wave of guarded anger in her eyes at Uthreidas display. She moved her hand back into her lap, sitting up straighter to Uthreida. She looked to the spirits again and nodded. "Forgive us, Lady." She said calmly. "We are…uncertain of outsiders. You don't carry yourself like one of us. But" her eyes drifted to the spirits, then her. "I was mistaken. What do you need from Stone Bear Hold?"
Uthreida held up her chin as she addressed the cave, ignoring Conant's smirk. "I stand here now, Storm Blade of my king. My blade now oathed to King Alistair, contracted by the Inquisition, to bring down that cowardice cur Corypheus. Who received false whispers from false gods you will never know to asunder the vail. He wrought the blights to your lands and continues to do so. Ripping the sky and spewing forth demons. Hiding behind the mountains that you call home. The Inquisition intends to bring the war to him. But his eyes are many. We desire safe passage through your valley. We are willing to trade and secure the valley. I will secure the valley for the safety of your peoples and ours. Will you aid us Thane? Will you give us passage so that we may bring in a new era of peace without the corruption of that creature? So that we may move, without his eyes seeing, and bring that imperial bastard down once and for all."
The others in the room nodded, but Sun Hair didn't. Her head tilting slightly as she looked Uthreida over. "You may find the idea easier than the tasking, Storm Blade." She said coolly. "As I have already told your Karl, the valley is overrun by Hakkonnites. They are using low-lander magic and sealed themselves in the basin. If you can rid us of them, we are in your debt."
Uthreida nodded as her anger dissipated. "I'll need warriors and hunters who can-"
Sun Hair held up a hand to stop her. "I can't secure men to you, Lady Storm Blade. The Hakkonnites are here under the oath of protection."
Uthreida sighed. Of course. The hold can't act against them because they have sworn to protect them. She, being an outsider, can act. "I will not ask you to break your oath."
Sun Hair sighed, leaning forward in her chair. "It's not that simple. Allowing you to war with them, in my lands, without recompense, is a violation of the oath. Those who have allied with the Jaws of Hakkon will call for blood. Thankfully, they are loved by few. They are tiresome, but I will pay what is required for oath-breaking if you can rid us of them."
Uthreida gave a nod. Now understanding why they were willing to rally so quickly. "Have they stormed the hold yet?"
"Not yet. And it worries my people." Uthreida arched a brow at the woman, hearing a deeper meaning to her words. Sun Hair sat up in her chair to look Uthreida over. "Stovacker, our hold beast, is missing."
Uthreidas eyes widened as she looked to the others. The leader's eyes dropped to show the truth of it. She knew the implications based on ancient traditions that were no longer observed. Cassandra scoffed and Uthreida shot her a look to remain silent. "How long?"
"Days." Uthreida nodded, the Thane's desperate. "Auger has yet to see her with the spirits, so I know she is alive." Sun Hair raised a hand to the larger man who nodded. "The hunters look for tracks."
Cassandra sighed. "Why not find her yourself?"
Sun Hair looked at the dark Seeker with an annoyed eye. "A large search for our beast will inform the Hakkonnites that Stone Bear Hold is weak. And my people do not need more fear than they already have." She looked at Uthreida, a guarded desolation in her eyes. "If you can find Stovacker, we would be willing to break our oaths. But this is not the season for battle glory. When Stovacker returns, I would be willing to bathe my blades in their blood." Uthreida nodded to the woman. It was middle winter and her people were making do with what they had.
Cassandra shook her head and sigh. "For a bear." She grumbled.
Uthreida snarled at her impenitence. "Hold beasts hold a connection to the lands and people. Between the spirits and the gods. In Falkreith, the beast was a stag with twenty points. Believed to be the spirit of the forest. In Whiterun, it was a horse, as pale as the moon and as fast as the winds. And in the flatlands, was the spirit of the wind of Kyne. In Windhelm, a great snow bear imbued its warriors with strength and is currently the seat of the king. A reverence for the spirits is a reverence for the gods and people of the land."
Sun Hair nodded. "If Stovacker isn't found. I fear for the future of my hold. And the future of the trade with the Inquisition."
Uthreida nodded slowly to her. She looked at Cassandra and smirked. "Are there any distinguishments for Stovacker? I fear my history with bears is, shall we say, colored."
The room chuckled and Sun Hair beamed. "You fought bears? And lived?"
"I hear our Seeker is quite proficient at punching them." Solas snorted only to clear his throat while Cassandra made a disgusted sound.
Sun Hair smiled at the group and nodded. "The fear will keep you respectful. You'll know her when you see her." Uthreida smiled politely at the vague comment.
"If you keep a bear in the hold," Cassandra asked with an open hand, "is she kept in a pin?"
Uthreida frowned as did Sun Hair. "Storm Blade, Conant, perhaps you need to converse with the low landers more."
Cassandra sighed. "Is the bear tamed or friendly?"
"Erm." Sun Hair had a comical sound that rang in her voice that made Uthreida laugh.
She recovered and smiled. "I appreciate the candor." She sat up and leaned back. "Tell me more of these Jaws of Hakkon."
There was an uncomfortable shifting in the room but Sun Hair seemed to ignore it. "They are not the first to claim that name. All have been foolish."
"What has driven them to war?"
She nodded slowly. "The wise take the name of the gods to honor them. Hakkon is the god of winter and war. There is no evil in him. There are times to fight. But the Jaws of Hakkon care for nothing else. They raid, they fight, and eventually, they die. Their stories forgotten. It is the way of things."
Uthreida nodded as well. Hearing the truth of the world in her voice. "And of this group?"
"They came here a few ago years after the blight revenged their lands. There was enough land for the two, so we took them in. We did not see their anger." Her voice with lament and Uthreida lowered her brows. Stone Bear Hold has had to deal with them for ten years. Now, they turn to war within their own lands. "Thane Hartsmen thought only of battle and war. To avenge a wrong is a good thing, but to set the world afire to do it, is foolish."
Uthreida sat back, enjoying the wisdom of this Thane and seeing Sun Hairs interpretations of herself. It was a warning. She smiled at the woman. "It would appear that a group of historians would like to visit the island in the middle of the lake. The, ah, Lady's Rest. Your fishermen refuses to allow it."
The Thane gave a hearty chuckle at the woman, her eyes falling to the hunter to share the inside joke. "Rolfsten. He worries like a scared baby goat." She collected and smiled. "The boat is yours. You can tell him I said so."
Uthreida nodded to the Thane. "Thank you for your time, Thane. We'll search for Stovacker, end the Hakkonnites, and secure the valley for the Inquisition. I understand that trade will be made available upon completion. Karl Conant can collect what the people need as an offering from Korth."
She stood slowly from her throne and nodded. "It is good to see the Lady return to us. Your Karl has told us stories of your victories." She waved a hand to Conant who smirked while leaning against the pole of the opening. "He told us of your battle with his own hold beast. Of your trial of Korth. With handicap, no less." Uthreida smiled humbly at the woman. "How clever you and your husband both are. Let us hope this is another victory for the hold."
She shook her head slowly. "This war has little room for hope, I fear. It must be done. I will see to it."
Thane Svarah nodded again, a small smile curling on her lips. "Thane Storm Blade."
"Thane Sun Hair." Uthreida exited the cave and waved Conant and Cassandra to her side. "Conant, you're with me. We will do what we can to locate Stovacker and end the Hakkonnites. Cassandra, I want you to work with the scholars and locate the older Inquisitor. As we clear out the area, send in troops to reinforce it."
Cassandra huffed. "I'm leading-"
"And I gave my word. This will be done." She looked at the woman. "I have closer ties to the Avvar. I'll work with them. You have ties to the Chantry and will work to secure information and hold the valley." Cassandra took a breath, pulling her head back. She considered it and nodded. Uthreida looked at Conant. "Gather your warriors and meet us at the Inquisition post to the west. We hunt in the morning. And since it's on the way," she looked at Cassandra. "Let's row."
"One more thing," Conant said with a raised finger. Uthreida took a deep breath, ready for the next tasking that was to be uncovered. "You don't always have to play big dick games for people who want or need your help."
Cassandra chuckled into a fisted hand. When her dark eyes met Uthreida's she smirked. "He's got a point." Uthreida looked at her like she wanted to set the Seeker ablaze. "It's called humility. Shall we?"
Xxxx
Commander Cullen,
The team has made it to the southern valley. Lady Uthreida has used her own Avvar hunters and Warriors to secure the area while using the local Inquisition soldiers to hold it. She has shown a deeper understanding of the people and, dare I say, made a few friends to strengthen our alliance with the Inquisition. She moves diligently and is placing the troops in strategic locations with an emphasis on supply lines and even set up capabilities for river travel for the men.
Your mind is rubbing off on her.
In the basin is a research team that we are assisting as well. I have allowed it as they believe they are on the trail for the last Inquisitor, Ameridan. We have located several locations and items that have relevance to the last Inquisition. As we move forward, it seems as though the two are related. It's of vast historical reconstitution that is both uplifting to the hope of the Inquisition, as well as daunting to ensure we live up to the expectations.
Maps are enclosed for Royoc to close the rifts in the area. They have been cordoned for the safety of the people. Thankfully, none are on the route intended for travel for the troops.
We leave tomorrow to the summit and delve into the military stronghold of the basin and bring down these barbarians for good.
Uthreida is quickly proving that she is a capable fighter and leader of the people. She carries an air that I have not seen before in Skyhold. She seems professional, for starters. But a royal if frightening presence to her. In my honest opinion, her skills are wasted on dragons and not forward movement operations. She has an efficient skill in battle that chills the blood of the Hakkonnites and demands discipline from the men. I believe my favorite memory so far was after our third encounter with the Hakkonnites she declared "the next milk-drinking son of a sow that calls me a low lander is going to eat their own (curse)ing teeth." And according to Karl Conant, made good on it. But has shown some…peculiar tendencies. One of our soldiers was possessed and taken over by a rage demon. She killed him. But an Avvar woman, also an abomination, she let live. In fact, Conant actually recruited her for his clan to be an Auger, provided she released the spirit within her. With Solas and Uthreida, the young Avvar accepted and released the spirit.
A favor from our end. To ensure a lasting alliance, it is suggested that the Thane is a fan of the barbarian stories of Tyrdda Bright-Axe. If memory serves, we found said axe a few months ago. Send it down with the next round of supplies.
Take care of yourself, Commander, this is being handled.
Seeker Cassandra Pentaghust
The right hand of the Divine
Inquisition
Cullen smirked as he read over the letter. His eyes kept falling to her name. How she was leading. And thinking of the Inquisition army and his methods of thought. He bit his lip softly. Remembering her lips even for a moment. He couldn't even look at the gazebo anymore without heat rising up his neck. And try as he might, he can't help but look. Hoping to see her, wanting to relive that moment. He looked across his office to the southern door. She stood there, trying to speak and he-
He took a breath and set the letter aside. River travel. They'll need boats in the valley if he uses them for transport. Redcliff did have ships off the docks that they could use for transport south if they needed to. How much would that cost? He pulled fresh parchment and reviewed the actual numbers of men he was sending their way.
As he worked, his eyes shifted back to the letter. His mind wandered back to that night. How she molded into him and her held, heated breath against his cooled skin. The scent reminded him too clearly of Honnleath. Of home and peace and-
He moved the letter to a drawer to concentrate. One hundred- fifty foot soldiers from Fereldan on an eight-man boat, would mean nineteen boats. Two ores men per boat to return increases it to twenty-five boats. Provided the horses and carts can travel by land, the full two hundred seventy-five from Fereldan should be with the other one hundred Orlesians in the field. Twenty-five boats is a steep commission with the time required to build. How much to rent? And how many do they have available?
His eyes dropped to the drawer in thought. His brow furrowed as he realized he only pushed her away. That she probably forgot about him already. But he didn't want to forget. Is it so wrong he didn't want to let go? To try? To want? To feel something?
Focus. How long would it take to row or even transport boats from Redcliff to this valley? He moved parchments to see the map of Fereldan. The river off of Lake Calenhad got close, but they would need to be carried to the basin if they wanted to use them in the valley.
How can he apologize without apologizing?
He clenched his jaw as he used the compass to gauge about three days of rowing along the river to reach the valley.
What does she even like? History but not war. Philosophy but not religion.
And about half a day to transport the boats on land. It would almost be easier to load them in wagons and transport them across the land for two maybe three days. Which would mean horses and carts which is already a hefty-
The men in the Hinterlands. If he can pull their carts to Redcliff, he should have enough to transport boats to the river. They can continue to use the carts for supply and return to their posts.
He pulled a fresh parchment and opened his notebook, flipping the pages, he turned to the boathouse in Redcliff. Master Jeremiah is the Fishing Master of Redcliff. He scrawled a quick letter asking for numbers and the possibility of renting or buying.
Did she say something about flowers? Purple flowers. Are they her favorite or-
While he's thinking about it, he dipped the quill in the ink.
Food? No. Whet Stone? Is that a proper non-apology gift for a woman?
He made a quick note to Cassandra of the dragon Royoc had spotted in the Emerald Graves.
Does she even like jewelry? He's only ever seen the one necklace. And one ring.
He stood quickly, making his way down the battlements to discuss the possibility of boats with Morris.
Notebook. Hers is getting full of pictures, songs, and theories only she can understand. She needs a notebook or journal right?
Xxxx
Uthreida stood on the cliff, looking at the island they had visited not eight days ago. Now covered in ice and a dragon roaring of its dominance and wrath. Her jaw clenched in indecision as she looked at it.
Thane Sun Hair begged her not to kill Hakkon but knowing he needed to be put down. Conant looked at her with worry and concern. If she took the soul, would the spirit flow with it? Would she become an abomination as well? Is there a way to soothe it? To remove it?
Silent footsteps approached her. She turned to see Solas walk to her with his staff as he stood on the cliff's edge with her. Warriors of Conant and Cassandra, looking at the destruction of the dragon further down. The elf looked at the scene and breathed. "You are wondering how to kill the dragon, knowing you will absorb the soul, but not the spirit?"
"I wonder if they are the same." She said slowly. "I can't leave her here, but I can't pass it to others either." She looked to the elf with a wounded look. If that thing was angered at the low landers, it'll kill the soldiers on sight. No Soldiers meant no pass. No pass meant heavier resistance from the Venitori. Failure of the Inquisition meant no trade from Fereldan. No trade meant more people starved and an ever-increasing rise of bandits. "Is there a way to calm the spirit? Or remove it?"
Solas took a breath, leaning against his staff. "It must be willing to depart. And for a spirit to have the form of a dragon, its greed for power will overtake it."
Uthreida took a breath. Knowing what she was, will the spirit do the same to her? Uthreida clenched her hands. She didn't make it this far just to become an abomination. And the group wouldn't be able to kill her. A part of her wanted to pass her new enchanted weapon to Cassandra. Tell them how to stop it. But if Uthreida got too close, if the spirit didn't depart, if they didn't succeed. "What do I do?" She asked herself.
Solas looked at her with a curious brow. "You could try reasoning with the dragon or spirit, though, historically, has varied results."
She watched as the dragon called its thu'um to reinforce its area with ice.
She grounded her teeth. There has to be a way of reaching-
She placed a hand to her heart. The souls. Of the other dragons, she has yet to consume. It'll work, right?
She sat on the edge of the cliff, closing her eyes and taking a breath. She chanted the song the Grey Beards taught her to channel the souls in her. To calm them and her own soul. She focused her thoughts as best she could over the sound of the dragon's claws on the ice.
In her mind, the six dragons stood before her, each looking down at her. Their teeth were sharp and she focused. She needed a Thu'um that would cause a spirit to depart the world. But what three words could she use? The Frost Back tilted its head at her. She could feel the sadness from her. Seeing her sister in such a form. The Blood Dragon reared on his hind legs, flapping his wings at her.
The smaller purple dragon of Gormunder or Gruthstromvat stepped forward. "Hakkon is strong. But he takes the Thu'um that is not his. You know what it means to be a spirit. You know the peace that is required. The word you need is vaaz."
Uthreida's body was surrounded in immense heat as the word meaning of separate filled her soul. The true understanding to divide and remove. To rip, split, and disconnect from this world. Her mental image of Gormunder, its smaller purple body enveloped her and she felt his soul leave. Consumed in her knowledge. She looked to the other dragons, each slowly turning away from her. And disappearing from her sight.
Uthreida took a deep breath and started to choke. Her gorget was pulled back to keep her from falling over. She looked up to see Solas struggling to keep her from falling over the edge of the cliff. She leaned back and controlled her breath. "I know what to do." She picked herself up, her knees shaking from the new word of power. "I know what must be done." She looked over her shoulder to the warriors and hunters. The collection of Avvar and Inquisition Solders. "To me" she bellowed to the group. She drew her blade and marched down the side of the hill, not even noticing if the men that followed.
She had a plan. Well, half of a plan. Dragon Rend to prevent it from attacking. Her voice needed a cooldown of a few minutes if she can contain it. If they can weaken it, she should, in theory, separate the spirit from the dragon. The spirit, in theory, should be at peace. If the dragon is still hostile, end it.
She looked at the banks of the island and turned to the group. "Archers, get along those cliffs. These beasts call the young to aid. Put them down. Warriors, when the small ones approach, take them out first. Mages, it's weak to fire. Conant, Cassandra, with me." She watched as the two courageously stood beside her. "To Victory or Sovngarde." She lifted her blade to the teams.
"May the Maker watch over you." Cassandra addressed the Anderastans. Each group gave a battle cry and Uthreida turned. "Dragon anatomy is similar to ours." She said over her shoulder as she jogged to the water's edge to Cassandra and Conant. "Tendons, organs, eyes and mouth. Strike three times then move. Cassandra, I want you and your shield at the front, Conant, you and your hammer to the rear." Conant gave a grunt in understanding. Uthreida drew her axe and climbed the slope for the dragon. Her heart hammering in her chest as she climbed the ice.
She reached the flat surface and saw the black and white dragon. Sitting higher on a cliff. It turned to look at them. It laughed as it saw the three warriors. "I am the breath of winter. The Cold of war. Fight me in battle."
"Dovah." Uthreida shouted from across the battlefield. "Zu'u Dovahkiin."
It chuckled as it stepped closer. "Dragon blood, you may be, but you're still mortal. I am a god." It reared up with its wings expanded. Uthreida took a deep breath. It's massive paws slammed into the ice. The earthquake made her lose her concentration on the shout as she heard the crack and tings of ice shift below her feet. She looked at the dragon who opened its maw for its own shout. "Joor zah fruul." The white mist encircled its wings and it gave a sound of pain. "Move to it." Cassandra and Conant ran before her to the dragon. She looked around and already noticed the smaller ones approaching them. She looked over her shoulder to see the archers still getting set up. "Warriors" she called as they rounded the side of the hill. She pointed her axe at the smaller ones that were watching and move towards Cassandra and Conant. She stepped off hearing their cries for blood as she ran to catch up with her team. A second set of footfalls echoed behind her. "Cole, get back."
"She's hurting. I want to help."
Uthreida shook her head but didn't have time to argue. Cassandra and Conant had to stop to deal with the smaller ones. "Help them." Uthreida blinked and Cole was there, slashing his daggers into the skin of the dovahlaan. She arrived, slamming her axe head into the neck of a young one and her blade going into the ribs of another beside her. Cassandra's shield stopping the teeth as she throated her sword through its mouth. The clatter of Conant as his massive hammer broke the back of the last one. Uthreida looked to the hill the dragon was perched on. She pointed to the path up. "Move." She looked about the hill to see the warriors engaged with the smaller ones. "Take the hill" she called, some looking to see where she was going. She climbed after Conant and Cassandra. They stood guard at the top of the hill waiting, ready. Cole behind her and he breathed.
Uthreida got from behind them and took point. The white mist around its wings disappeared and it roared. "I have met you on the shore, Hakkon." Uthreida called to it. She spun her blades in her hand, lowered her body for a fight. "Face me."
Its wings expanded as it lifted its self from the perch and glided down to her on the flat surface. His weight shaking the land. "Move" she shouted. Cassandra kept her shield up as she ran. It opened its mouth to Thu'um. "Joor Zah Fruul." The white mist encased its wings again. She didn't have much time. She needed to end this. Conant moved to its front leg and swung. The sound of cracking bones as it whimpered over the pain of its body and its soul. Uthreida moved, slicing her blade across the tendon of its rear leg, her carved blade giving a heavier hit than her previous blade. She followed it up with a slam from the pick of her axe. Aiming high and pierced the flesh. She dragged it down the leg as blood now stained the ice. It shouted in pain and tried to move away from them with only two good legs. Uthreida took a breath, but her thu'um was canceled. Too soon. She moved to the interior of the leg, slicing the blade at the hip, and felt the hot blood seep into her armor. She used the axe and slammed into the tendon of the dragon. It buckled under its own weight. Uthreida rolled to get away as its rear legs were useless. She took a breath, looking at the side of the beast, calling the words to her mind "Zii Drem Vaaz."
The dragon howled to the sky, its body now glowing with an eerie blue. A second form lifted from it like a skeletal dragon. It flew to the sky and circled them.
The real dragon opened its wings. Its eyes were on her and it growled. Uthreida crossed her blades as it moved towards her. A fireball landed on its chest and but it continued its approach. Uthreida ran at it. Blades lifted. Its head poised and Uthreida rolled, dodging the attack, and started on the stomach. The pick of her axe started from her sternum and she pulled with everything to rip open the stomach. It sat up. Uthreida dropped her blade to hang onto the axe handle as it stood on hind legs. Her body weight with the dragon's actions ripped the stomach open. It fell back to the ground, knocking her off of it. The clatter of her blade making her realize she was without a weapon. Silver in the moonlight caught her eye and she dove. The dragon opened his wings to fly. It called a Thu'um for ice. Uthreida watched as the archers on the wall were either forced back or fell off the sheer side. She collected her blades and ran. "Joor Zah Fruul." The wings sealed and the dragon fell back onto the ice unceremoniously on its side. The large cracks now around her as she ran. The dragon tried with its one good leg to push her back. Conant stood at its tail and slammed, breaking the bones as it howled. Cassandra stood on its back. Cutting the wings to prevent flight. Uthreida stood at its chest. Her sword poised. She ran it through between the ribs as it breathed and sliced up.
It cried out again as blood now soaked Uthreida's blade. It looked at her, but it didn't move. Its yellow eyes on her and blinked slowly. There was a sense of peace as it looked at her. Uthreida holstered her axe as she walked to her. Her blade now in two hands. She stepped towards her throat. The dragon laid her head down on the ice, allowing the final blow. Uthreida stabbed her throat and cut through the hide, esophagus, and veins. Blood splashed on her boots as the dragon's last breath escaped it. Uthreida held a hand to its chest, offering it silent honors until it passed.
The orange glow of its soul circled her. Uthreida closed her eyes as its cold breath went into her bones. It was familiar, it was safe, and it was relieved to be free of the world. Kruziikpaar. Ancient ire. That was her name. The orange dissipated but she felt it enter her heart. Uthreida took a breath, feeling the final moments of peace from the dragon. "Rest now. No one can harm you anymore."
"Freed at last." She turned to see Cole smiling, his leathers covered in blood and bits. When did he-
The sound of another dragons roar made them all look to the sky. A blue spirited dragon circled them, landing on the same crested hill as before. Uthreida grabbed her ax and stood ready. "An honorable battle." It nodded its head to the teams on the hill. "Well fought." It gave a shout to the skies and started to fly, its winds held out, and started to glow. The light becoming too much in the darkness of the sky and Uthreida held up a hand to shield her eyes. The light dissipated, and when she looked up, it was gone.
A hand slapped on her shoulder and she looked to see Conant smiling, blood splattered on his face. "Damn fine victory. Korth would be proud." She arched a brow, allowing herself to finally breathe in pants of the cold air, uncertain if he was referring to his god or-her husband.
Cassandra sheathed her blade and Uthreida realized she needed to do the same. "So," Uthreida called to her. "First dragon, Pentaghust?"
She grunted as she approached. "Second."
Uthreida smiled at the woman. Conant took a breath and looked at the dragon. "We should get back to Stone Bear Hold, tell them what happened." Uthreida nodded, still trying to catch her breath.
Cassandra looked at the beast with the same heavy breaths as Uthreida. "I'll need to send a report to Commander Cullen. Let him know the valley is secured for the Inquisition."
"Come." Conant tapped her back plate with a knuckle. "Let's get some proper mead to drink to those who died."
Uthreida gaged on what proper mean meant to him. He gave a hardy chuckle and moved. Uthreida looked at the body of the dragon and sighed. She pulled Cassandra aside. "We'll need to start processing the body. I'll get with Thane Svarah to see what the Avvar traditions is for dragon meat, but we're going to need supplies. Especially if I'm being paid for this." She smirked as she jutted a thumb over her shoulder.
Cassandra met her smirk as they walked. "I imagine you would. Seems too late in the day for such work. Let's enjoy this victory first."
"Aye." Uthreida looked up to see Solas approach, using his staff as a walking stick.
"Well done." He commented with a nod. "How did you manage to separate the spirit from the physical form?"
Uthreida shrugged playfully as she passed. "I have friends on the other side. Come, let's drink." She looked at Cassandra and smiled. "Tell me the story of your first dragon." She sighed in disgust.
Xxx
Uthreida reviewed her notes as she looked over the inventory. Knowing she'll need a scout or Cassandra to write it out for Cullen.
Three hunderd square feet of dragon leather, still in process.
Five hundred pounds of eatable meat. Half is to be given to the Avvar hold. The awful also given to them as offerings.
Four hundred seventy five bones. Of varying sizes and density. In the process of bleaching in the Avvaran method because of the lack of resources in the valley.
Fifty teeth. Three for the beast master tranquil of the Inquisition.
Fifteen vials of dragons blood. A weird request from Dagna, but alright.
"Slayer." Uthreida looked up to see Cassandra approach. Her face was of its usual serious demeanor as she approached. "News from Skyhold." She held out a scroll to her. Uthreida unrolled it and read.
Seeker Cassandra Pentaghust,
Dragon sighted in Emerald Graves. Move your team to the area and have the Slayer ready to engage.
Cullen Rutherford
Commander of the Inquisition forces
She arched a brow at the letter. Is he keeping her away or is he advoiding the conversation?
She grunted. He's a general. And he's right. This war is going to take everything. He can't be distracted. If her assumptions of Corypheus and the Deadra are right, she can't be distracted either. She passed the report back. "I'm still processing the remains."
"We're leaving-"
"In the morning, I assumed." She held up a hand to stop her. "But I'll need to send this report of inventory prior to departure for Lady Josephine to sell off. I would like to get paid for this endeavor."
Cassandra gave a nod. She stuffed the report in a pocket and looked over the area where the parts were stacked and organized. "You make efficient work of processing."
"Thank you." She said with a smile as she reviewed her notes. "Apparently, one of your ancestors wrote a book on it."
She cocked a brow. "You have it?"
"Aye. Commander wanted me to have it memorized." Uthreida looked up at Cassandra in the silence.
She was smiling. "I'm glad he made use of it."
Uthreida squinted and looked her over. "Is it your book?"
"I made a few requests to Nevarra. Per the Commander. I'm glad it's being put to use and not left unattended on his shelf." Uthreida smirked and moved towards the camp. "Can I ask your opinion?" Cassandra said after a few paces of silence.
"Of course."
"Is giving the bear to Conant really the best idea?"
Uthreida laughed as they walked. "Would you prefer Stovacker to be on the front lines of the war? The vanguard of the Inquisition? Oh, we can send her to Skyhold. As an envoy. I'm sure she'll make so many friends. Maybe even introduce her to King Alistair."
Cassandra rolled her eyes at Uthreida sarcasm as they walked. As they approached the camp, Uthreida realized it had been about two weeks since she thought of him. She had made decisions with the military in mind, but not him. Specifically. His eyes, his voice, the way he smelled heated her core. His hair in her hands. She took a deep breath of the blood, the dirt, to get the smell of oak moss out of her mind.
"They seem to be enjoying it here," Cassandra commented as they grew closer.
Uthreida looked up to see Solas and Cole standing by the requisitions table. Well, Solas was standing, Cole was squatting. Watching a leaf in the snow. "I think Conant mentioned that he believes Cole is Chasid. And offered his apologies."
Cassandra stopped, looking at the boy then back at her. Uthreida shrugged, unsure of where her mind was going. Cassandra shook it off. "As it is, they seem to be enjoying the Avvar. And I'm sure their trade will be well with it. I'm sure the Commander would also appreciate the work done here." She gave a nod. "You do good work."
Uthreida held a hand to her heart in mock awe at her. "Was that a compliment? From the Seeker?" Uthreida gave a wide-mouthed smile in theatrical happiness.
Cassandra looked unamused. "Don't get used to it."
"Of course, of course." She waved it off warranting a disgusted sound from the woman. "No one would believe me anyways."
Cassandra shook her head as they got closer. "Send your report and prepare to move."
"Aye, Seeker. Send your men to secure the dragon bounty and prepare to deliver to the hold."
Cassandra veered off and Uthreida stopped to speak to Solas. Her eyes going to Cole. "What's he doing?"
"Hand in hair and the smell of the forest, gathered beneath the trees as his lips tasted like ale. True names hidden behind hurts."
She arched a brow and looked at Solas. "Anyways. I guess we're moving to Emerald Graves next. We leave in the morning."
Solas nodded with a smirk. "Slayer, if I may ask," Uthreida turned to face him. He took a step towards her. "There's something that has been bothering me. When we were at Ameridan's shrine, you didn't seem…perturbed at the idea of intermingling gods."
She lowered a brow at him. "Why would I? I pray to Kyne, am Atmoran god, and thank Talos, a mortal god, with gifts of Akatosh, a Cryodiil god that is a shard of the Meric god Ariel. By the nine, I even know guards that hail Sithis." He seemed confused for a moment but nodded politely. "They're all the same." She waved a dismissive hand. "It's the details that anger people."
"Could you elaborate?" He asked stepping off with her. "Certainly you don't believe the Maker and say, Elgar'nan are the same?"
She gave a laugh as she walked to her tent. "No. Each god has their sphere. If anything, the elven gods sound closer to our Deadra than Adra."
"I'm sorry?"
"Ancestors and not ancestors. Oh, that reminds me." She turned to look at him. "If the Creators didn't create the world, who did?"
He pulled his head back slightly to look at her. "Excuse me?"
"Forgive me, I've been meaning to ask, and kept forgetting. I've done a basic gloss over of Dalish culture from the books in the library. If memory serves, and it usually doesn't, Elgar'nan was the child of the land and sun. But he didn't make anything. Why is he called a Creator if he didn't create?"
Solas tilted his head slightly with a brow of a knowing but comical look. He looked away as if unsure she just asked an asinine question. "I don't follow."
"What did Elgar'nan create to give him the title of Creator?"
Solas blinked once but smiled slowly. "A mystery, it seems."
There was something in his voice that sounded guarded that made her arch a brow. "Right. Well, I prey to the Adra, who created and sacrificed for the world, where some prey to the Deadra, who seek to use it. Different nations have different names. The Nords say Shore, the Mer say Lorkhan, and the Kahjiiti say Lorkhaj. And apparently is Korth to the Avvar. It's all the same. Like about Andraste being a mage or not. To me, your Andruil sounds like Hircine. A lord of the hunt, but a fair god, if albeit, a slight blood lust." Solas chuckled softly, dipping his head to hide his face. "Even this Mythal sounds more like Azura. A powerful god and beloved by the Dunmer. A peace keeper and will of transitional change. And the Maker is Magnus. While the Deadra didn't create the world, they still play their part."
He smirked at the comment. "Thank you. I was trying to figure it out, and wanted to speak with you about it. It is interesting to discover how well you know the religions."
She smiled oddly at the elf. "I have the gift of Kyne and the blood of Akatosh. Why would I deny the gods? Or learn of those in the land I'm in?"
He forced a smile. "All I meant is that you have a… unique perspective of the world."
She arched a brow at the comment. It felt back handed. "We've spoken of Elven empires. I'm curious, why do you wish for yours to return?"
He met her eyes in silence. A flash of wisdom beyond his years passed behind his eyes as he smirked softly. "Specifically, why would I wish for them to return to what they once were?"
"Which is?" Solas only kept his soft smile as she looked at her. Not uttering a word. Her lip curled in disgust in his silence. She assumed that the elves in this land were once like the Alyeids. And if he is anything like the Altimer, casting aside the mortal prophet of Andreste, he is no better than the Thalmor.
Solas was one of them. And he's biding his time.
His smiled widened. "Thank you for the enlightening conversation. Dragon Slayer." He nodded to her and left her there outside of her tent.
She had no proof, and he knew that. There was no way she could bring it up without sounding like a racist Nord. He's apart of them. Somehow, separated by an ocean, he knew them.
But he was working with the Inquisition. He was a spy.
A cold shiver ran down her spine. The war had begun long before she got here.
XxXx
Cullen laughed a he read over Rylen's latest report.
What was the one thing I asked? The one thing?! I can't believe you assigned Recruit Belinda to me. The woman is infuriatingly perky. And to say anything in the realm of realism and rationality is met with this souring look like I don't believe in the Makers will. She trivializes actual threats while making mountains out of mole hills. And I told you to keep her away from me. I get it, we're both from Starkhaven, but I grew up in the slums. She had a castle in the hills and joined the order out of "honor." Whatever in the blessed rite that means. I joined for free food.
There is no filter on this woman. I can only use the lines of "recruit" or "at ease" so many times, but she thinks she can just waltz up and start talking to me. I'm in a meeting. You mind? The Captain is trying to read a map. Go away.
Get her out of my command or I'm trading her for a horse that doesn't talk. Or judge. And honestly, more pleasing to the eye. And doesn't reek of rose water.
Get her out of my command.
Knight Captain you-owe-me-Rutherford
Rylen McGuinis
P.s. the "prototype" weapons seem to be working given the stacks of dead bodies.
Cullen laughed into his hand as he read over the letter again. Whoops. Belinda was one of the blind volunteers for the post and he didn't make the connection until now. He placed the letter aside and picked up the stack of Inquisition aide. Dorian requested aide for his friend in Tevinter. Cullen had suggested Templars and now had one in mind. Belinda, with Ser Lassiter, should curb her tendencies and have a decent role model.
The north door opened and Cullen looked over to see the Qunari tilting his body to enter the frame. "Bull. What can I do for you?"
Bull stood to his height but held a pouch in one of his hands. "I was wondering if you could, uh, help me out right quick."
Cullen leaned back but kept his eyes on the qunaris hands. "Sure. What do you need?"
He held the pouch in both of his hands. His head tilted and so did his horns towards Cullen. "The ashes just got back from Storms Coast." There was false show of bravado in his voice as he spoke. "Do you mind?"
Cullen looked at the bag and realized he was holding the remains of his men in his hands. A memory of offering final rites to his men in the Gallows came back to Cullen. The acrid smell of blood and stone. Of open wounds and wheezing lungs. "I'd be honored." He said lowly, standing from his desk. "Wouldn't you prefer to wait for the Inquisitor?"
He looked back at the sack in his hands. "Yea. Well, he's," he tilted his head slightly with a deep breath for his massive chest. "Look, you wanna help or not?" He cleared his throat but kept his eyes adverted.
Cullen nodded towards him. "Of course." Bull walked across the office to the southern door, minding his horns as he exited the office. Cullen followed silently.
Bull stood to the edge of the battlements, placing the sack on the edge. "Don't suppose you know a chantry prayer." Bull asked over his shoulder.
Cullen took a deep breath and reviewed the three he knew and choose a warriors prayer. "In your hands, Mighty Maker, we humbly entrust our brothers and sisters. In this life you embraced them with your tender love; deliver them now from every evil and bid them eternal rest. The old orders has passed away: welcome them into paradise, where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain, but fullness of peace and joy with your Bride and the Holiest Spirit forever and ever." He closed his eyes and nodded. "Amen."
He looked up to see Bull carefully undoing the knot on the bag. "Don't suppose you know any Dalish or Dwarven prayers, do you?"
"I don't." Cullen said softly. Letting the heaviness of the situation flow through him.
Bull gave a slow nod as the chord finally yielded. He sniffed and held the bag in one hand. Bull took handfuls and scattered the ashes into the wind. "Atash varine kata. Alisit tal-er." He emptied another handful into the winds. His one eye watching the ashes move in the breeze. A heaviness came over the larger man as he upturned the bag for the final remains.
Cullen watched the horned giant breathe it in. And Cullen looked away, feeling like he wasn't supposed to see this. This side, this grief from the large Qunari. "Not that I'm completely behind the alliance with the Qun, their navy has proven most beneficial, but" Cullen looked over, hoping to see a trace of the ashes in the wind. "The chargers sacrifice will not be in vain."
Bull nodded silently. "Thanks for the prayer, Cullen." Bull kept his eyes over the mountains. His tight voice showing what he was hiding.
Cullen wanted to elaborate, but the tone and posture of Iron Bull gave the idea that he was done with the idea of hope. He swallowed it back. "The chargers were one of the best outfits I've seen in years. You trained them well." Bull gave an annoyed gruff and turned to walk away.
Cullen looked over the battlements at the mountains as the Qunari walked away. Hoping his own men held the same kind of resolve and determination when it came to an order. He looked back at the horns that were slowly descending the stair case. He loved his men. Royoc butchered his men, and Bull followed orders. Royoc made the choice, Bull didn't. Cullen didn't know if he pitied Bull for following such an order, or angered that he didn't fight the command. He looked back over the mountains in thought. That was the life of a soldier though, wasn't it? To take orders without question was a sign of discipline. To see the greater good from an order. He looked back at his office, remembering Rylen's letter. The venom and allowed annoyance from their friendship over rank.
No.
Cullen stood against Meredith. He belayed orders for the greater good. He wanted his men to do the same. To violate orders that were unlawful or seemed wrong. Course correct honor and integrity. But he couldn't exactly tell them to revolt when something was wrong. That led to this war. No, he had to hope his men could do it without his explicit orders.
He sighed as he stepped off to his office. Here's hoping they know that.