A/N: Owners own stuff.

Cullen entered the fort, remarking at the merchants and Solders alike. Rylen's done good work in the Western Approach. He pulled a random soldier who was walking behind him. "Inform Captain Rylen I'm on ground. I'd like to speak to him."

The soldier looked him over, pausing at the fur at Cullen's shoulders with a quizzical look, but saluted. "Of course, sir. This way."

Cullen followed the Soldier around and up the stairs to the battlements. He was met with awnings, chests, cots, tables, and Captain Rylen. Looking over a map and stuffing a pipe with something. "Captain," Cullen shouted as he approached, a sense of anger in his voice. The Starkhaven turned to the Commander and lowered a brow. "What is the meaning of this?" He shouted again as he forwarded his assault. Rylen looked confused for a second but didn't run. "My team arrived not five minutes ago." He stood before the Captain who looked on with a bored patience. "There were no musicians, no feast, no flowers thrown over the side of the battlements. What kind of outfit are you running here?" He tried to keep the smile off his face as he looked at his friend.

Rylen finished packing his pipe and sniffed. He leaned slightly around Cullen. "Oi," he yelled as deep as he could, "Commander on the floor. Atten'hut."

Cullen looked over his shoulder to see the ten soldiers who were sleeping stand to attention at the foot of their cots. "As you were," Cullen called. He looked at Rylen with a smirk.

"As for celebratin' of your arrival," he ran a finger through his sack of dried and shaved elf root leaves. He flicked a few in the air. A few landing on his face. "Huzzah," he stated dryly, "the Commanders arrived."

Cullen wiped off the elf root as he looked at the Captain. Who took it in stride as he lit his pipe, puffing smoke around him. Rylen looked him over then smirked. He reached across his desk, Cullen assumed, and passed a jar to Cullen. "Here."

He opened the tin and looked inside. "What is it?"

"Sun balm. You're about as pink as your wife's-"

"Rylen." He ordered his name was a warning. All sense of friendship forgotten as he looked the Captain down.

"Scars. What'd you think I was going to say?"

Cullen looked away, checking his anger, and breathed. "Maker, I've missed you."

"No, you haven't." He said around the pipe on his lip.

Cullen smirked. "You're right. To business."

"Why you still wearing that?" He tilted his head to Cullen's furs.

Cullen looked down to inspect. "Honestly, I don't know anymore." He put the tin down and started the process to remove the furs and cloak. "How's the progress."

"Good. The trebuchets arrived three days ago. The siege equipment arrived yesterday, and here you are. Your battering ram is expected tomorrow."

"I'd like to review the trebuchets and the team builders. Make sure they are properly calibrated-"

"You and I both know that the only way to transport siege equipment is to break it down." He said around a cloud of smoke. "It can't be calibrated in its current state." He pointed his pipe to a different table under a different awning. "Hawke and Warden Loghain have secured an area for us to set up a camp at. I've sent it forward to the siege teams to start moving out within the next few days to the rendezvous point and begin set up as soon as possible." He pointed the mouthpiece of his pipe to a map. "It's two days travel east. With Adamant in sight. The builders say it should take two days to set up. We can start to filter our numbers in to bolster the area. If you and the Inquisitor are willing to leave in three, we should arrive on time. And meet your unreasonable time table for the siege."

Cullen nodded with a smile as he looked at the map. "All three hundred troops already arrived?"

He chuckled. "We had difficulty with the darkspawn at first, but the men quickly quelled it. I believe the Inquisitor went looking for their source earlier to the north. I'm sure he's fine."

Cullen gave a nod to him. At least Royoc is doing something useful. "Has he already closed the rifts in the area?"

"As far as I know. According to the bitching of his Tevinter mage, they already walked this entire valley."

"Is the rest of the area secured?"

"Mostly. Still some pockets of wild life, but for the most part, is secured."

Cullen stood up, placing his furs on the table, enjoying the breeze for what it was and trying not to think of the heat. "Anything to report?"

Rylen tilted his head with a smirk around his pipe. "Discovered a few things actually. For starters, there was a red lyrium mine going on. Discovered a report that the Red Templars in the area were to pull back and head to Emprise Du Lion."

Cullen looked at him with a smirk. "Their fortifying their position in Du Lion? That's excellent news." He smirked and looked away. "We know where they're going. We can cut them off on the trail."

Rylen frowned as he looked at the map. "Maybe. Or, if your men ran into them on the way here, you either already did, or will have a smaller force to take Adamant." Cullen grunted as his little ray of sunshine was now blocked by the realistic overcast of Rylen. "It gets better." Rylen passed an old log book off to Cullen. "And worse. You may want to read this."

Cullen opened to the page that was eared and read. Rock unstable. Look for arch demon elsewhere. He looked at Rylen as the dots connected. "The Wardens are here to kill an archdemon that's buried here. Underground?"

Rylen crossed his arms. "It confirms the reports. If they're building an army of demons, to kill one, it explains why they're here. But, as usual, the plot thickens." He waved Cullen over to his open aired tent by the stairs. "We reviewed several reports from the local Mercenaries in the area. Judging from their orders," he lifted a stack of scrap parchment and passed it off, "it's come to my attention that they want the dragon that lives nearby. What's even better, the professor up the way has a recipe to draw one out."

Cullen looked over the orders with a lowered brow. The wardens came here to kill a dragon, the Mercenaries want one, and a professor knows how to get one. How does all this connect?

Rylen sighed, "I don't know what game Corypheus is playing. Taking dragons. What kind of lunatic-"

Cullen looked up to see him shake his head. "What?" Rylen looked at him with a brow. Cullen placed the orders on the desk and took a step closer. "You think Corypheus is…collecting dragons?"

Rylen looked at him confused. "Yea. Serverus was directing the mercenaries. He didn't want them to kill the research team. Which the White Claws did. He's down in the cells." Cullen lowered his brows to him. "He's a Tevinter smuggler. A proper levereter." Cullen still wasn't following. "Cullen, this isn't the first time a local mercenary team stood guard or taken residence in front of a dragons lair." He shook his head. "The first time, I thought it was a fluke. Now, it's a coincidence." he exhaled hard. "I think that's Corypheus's plan."

"Why?"

Rylen pulled his head back in dramatic confusion. "I don't know. Gradures of god hood, remember? The guy is from ancient Tevinter. As are his minions. So" he shrugged, "I don't have a single clue. But it's a stupid and dangerous game."

Cullen lowered his brows. "That's…that's a bit of a stretch. We've only seen it twice."

"Look, not saying I'm right, and I would love to be wrong, but," he pointed his pipe to the stack of orders, "evidence is evidence."

Cullen looked at the stack and took a deep shaking breath at the possibility. "These dragons aren't just about the supply lines, are they? They have to be put down to halt this plan."

"Apparently." Cullen tapped his fingers against the table in thought. "I've ordered my men to collect the Slayer when she gets on ground. Introduce her to the professor prior to her arrival to the fort. Maybe she can make some sense of this."

"Maybe." He took another deep breath, questioning the layers of plots before him. "Maybe." Why dragons? What do they have to do with all of this?

XxXx

Uthreida took a deep breath, and regretting it instantly. The sand billowed around her and got into her lungs. She coughed, horribly. By the Nine, coughing, red faced from the sun, thirsty, slightly sick as they passed some caves, and overheating in this gods forsaken place of the Western Approach.

May you walk on warm sands, her ass. Oh, what she would give to be back on the ice right now.

Their escort lead them around a cliff of rocks. Apparently, another dragon was spotted and called her in to take care of it. Ugh. She looked at the sand dunes and the vast emptiness of the desert around her. Just give it to the damn dragon already.

Ragnar's buckles clicked as she followed the escort up the hill. She looked over her shoulder to see Cole in his thick long sleeved coat and not sweating profusely. Solas's head as red as her own hair. Cassandra rode at her side. A little burnt on her cheek bones, but otherwise unbothered by the climate. Uthreida squinted in her jealousy. "How do you stand it?" She found herself asking.

Cassandra smirked. "Drink water."

They approached the camp and dismounted. The horses were taken to a trough of water and Uthreida started to move towards it with wide eyes as her hand went to her belts to dress down.

"Slayer."

She pursed her lips in irritation at some Soldier that called her over. She just wanted to cool down. She looked over with lowered lids as Cassandra crossed her arms at her. Uthreida kept walking to the trough with a defiant look. She dunked her head into the water. Enjoying the coolness until her lungs burned. She pulled out of the water with a gasping breath. She looked at the trough with a smile as the cold water soaked under her armor and gambeson. And realized she was an idiot. She cast a quick water breathing and dunked her head back in. A horse knocked into her forcing her to come up again. She shot a scathing look at Cassandras horse. "Step off, Aveline." She bit as she walked away. Cassandra looked unamused at her approach. Uthreida smirked. "You want to? I can cast water breathing." Solas tilted his head and opened his mouth. "FOR YOU THE RED LEGION, FOR MY LOVE IS FOR YOU. YOU, TALOS, ASCENDED THE MUD AND FILTH OF MORTALITY AND WAS EMBRACED IN THE ARMS OF THE GODS. FOR TALOS IS THE GOD OF MAN. ASCENDED FROM FLESH TO RULE THE REALM OF SPIRIT!" She finished her interpretation of Heimskr's surmon and squinted at Solas who snapped his jaw shut.

The Soldier paused at the group, but gave an indifferent shrug as he led them to the tents that billowed in the breeze. She walked to the soldier and followed. "There is a researcher here that you're supposed to speak to as well." The Soldier said over his shoulder. His voice holding the cadence of the Orlesian. "Professor Frederic. Captain Rylen found some manuscript and asked us to pass it off to you to give to him." She looked at Cassandra curiously then the Soldier. "The Professor is quite interested in meeting the both of you." He said as he looked at Cassandra. She sighed but nodded it off. "Professor." He called as he climbed the hill to the billowing tent. A man in a red mask, red tabard, and armor stood at the greeting. The soldier held a hand to the team. "This is Seeker Cassandra Pentaghust and…the Dragon Slayer for the Inquisition."

Uthreida arched an annoyed brow as he either didn't know her name by now or didn't know how to pronounce it. He could've tried. Uthreida took a step forward. "Uthreida Storm Blade."

"A pleasure, I am Frederic of Seralt, a professor of Orlais and leading expert in Dragonology." but drifted to Cassandra. "Lady Pentaghust," she arched an annoyed brow, "it is such a high honor to meet a member of the famed dragon slaying family. Tell me, have you ever seen a dragon up close or slain one?" Cassandra looked at the man then at her. Uthreida dropped her jaw at the audacity of the man. That is literally her title. Cassandra sniffed and crossed her arms at the man.

The Soldier tapped Uthreida on the arm. She looked over to see a book in his hands. She arched a brow at the cover design and looked at the Soldier to confirm. He shrugged at the iconography. The crowned skeleton lifted its skirts to showcase its boney legs up to its hips. This was either about necromancy or necrophilia. She took a courageous breath and flipped open the cover to start reading. Blah, blah, blah, dragons are great, blah, blah. Oh, how to bait and capture dragons. "Can I keep this?" The Soldier pointed to the Scholar who looked at her.

"You can read it?" the professor's voice holding some fascination.

Uthreida looked at the book, the Soldier, Cassandra, then the Scholar. Realizing she just revealed her ability to read any written language. "Uh, it's a common dialect." She smiled to sell her half-truth.

He gave a breath in appreciation. "Could you translate the tome for current readers?" he tried to reel in the excitement in his voice.

"Uh?" She looked to Cassandra who smirked to see how she was going to get out of this one. "It's a bit late in the day. It could take some time." She smiled again at her half-truths.

"Oh, you're absolutely right. Please, please," he insisted with a waving hand, "let's begin." His voice rising an octave at his excitement for the information. "I have scrolls, ink. Quills." He moved to his pack and opened it. "What do you need?"

She looked back as Cassandra who was smiling at this point. Uthreida could tell it was out of friendship, but it currently didn't feel like it. "A lighter hand." She said awkwardly. "My hand writing is, ah, unreadable."

"I can scribe," Frederic said enthusiastically. Solas smiled into his hand at the show.

Uthreida shot him a look but took a breath. "Right." She watched him as he set up his work space on a table, quickly placing everything within reach. Pulling a second chair as he waved to it for her to sit with him.

Cassandra was now grinning at her. Uthreida scowled at her friend and took the offered seat slowly. "What is the title of this Manuscript?" He asked quickly, inking his quill, his hand ready to write.

Uthreida looked at the book with a bit lip. She needed out of this. "So," she placed the book on the table and leaned back. "You study dragons?" She asked with an over-excited tone.

He gave a forced laugh for niceties. "Yes, ah, shall we begin?" He pointed his hand to the book.

Uthreida smiled and crossed her arms. "I have questions."

He tilted his head, making a sound of polite annoyance. "May I suggest attending one of my lectures at the University of Orlais? I would be delighted to accredit your name to such an astounding find." He looked over at her, his full-face mask hiding any expressions. But she smiled. Waiting. He took a deep breath when he realized he wasn't going to get what he wanted until he amused her. He sucked his teeth and leaned back, his arms over his chest. "What would you like to know?"

She leaned forward in thought. "Why do the male dragons not have wings here?" There was a silent pause from the mask. "Where I am from, male dragons have wings. Doing some basic research into the matter here, it is stated that males do not have wings. So I'm curious why they do not when ours do."

"Ah." His tone holding more of a question than anything. "Well, there are bone spurs on the front legs of the older male drakes. These may be ruminates of wings at some point in more ancient times. However, as decades and generations wore on, we believe the males lost their wings to make hunting for or by the females easier as they tend to grow larger, faster than the males. It also postulates that by looking like a whelp may also help them in their own feeding from a fully grown high dragon."

She arched a brow at the comment. This land is hypostulating to have weak males serving the females. She smiled at the story of Anderste. "If they have bone spurs on their forearms, it would be assumed that the males had wings from fore arms to their sides, correct?"

"Yes. Rarely though, some males do have wings. Sadly, these are considered the anomalies rather than the norm."

"But the females have a third set of appendages from their back to make wings. Why have the anatomical differences in the species? What's its purpose?"

He waved a hand vaguely. "Aside from size, which can vary depending on age, it's difficult to tell the difference in male dragons from female dragons. We believe the intent of the winged scuplula and the spurred radial may be due to the identification for mating purposes."

What? "Interesting. But it raises questions as to why it's different for this species. A male bear looks like a female bear. Would it act as a visual statement such as a stag and doe? To mark their sex a bit more…pointed?" Cassandra groaned at her pun.

He gave a slow nod with his own silent groan. "A bit pedestrian, but accurate. Even in the study of water fowl, the females may be of duller color but the males will have vibrant colors to attract mates."

"But the opposite is true in terms of dragons. The females are more colored where the males are not."

"Yes, not too far from our own species. So, the translations?"

"So let's go back. You said that males, who had lost their wing, supplicant to the females. How do you mean?"

He took a deep breath that reminded him to be patient. "It is theorized that the males will sneak into a female's horde to hide amongst her hatchlings. Any meals she collects for the hatchlings through allofeeding or regurgitation. The excess may be passed, or rather stolen, by the males. Simultaneously, the males will fertilize eggs. Creating a sense of a symbiotic relationship."

She arched a brow. There's no way proud dragons are that stupid. Having a harem of males who steal food and fertilize. Hiding amongst her children. "I am inclined to…question this. Could it be possible that the males who lacked hunting skills turned to this method? Losing their wings from such underhanded tactics? No longer necessitating the need for them? Having an obvious male in the herd could create infighting. Having lesser obvious males would create weaker off spring and create the generic norm we see now."

He took several breaths as if to clear his own head. "Perhaps." She looked away. Poor things. No strong, decent male in their ranks. It's a no wonder the males are weaker here. "You're suggesting a change in mating patterns from alpha male dragons to simpler, and underhanded betas?"

She arched a brow at the phrases she didn't recognize. "Sure. Would an uncontested male ever grow to the size of a female high dragon or would it stay as small as drakes for the rest of its life?" She asked. But remembering Paarthurnax, she already knew the answer.

"We don't believe so. Given tests and field experiments, a level of dimorphism exists in the species." She lowered her brows at his clinical terms. He sighed. "The females will always be larger."

"Ah."

"So about that text."

"Where do dragons get their magic from?" He gave a deep sigh. "From what I've read, dragons have a sack in their chest that makes fire, ice, even lightening? But no one can prove it."

He took another breath. "The elemental sack isn't in the chest, it's in the throat."

"The throat?" She asked with a head tilt. He's on the right path.

"Yes. The dragon activates the elemental sack when in combat or feasting but descends upon death."

Is he referring to vocal folds in the throat? Like, for speech? "So, no magic?"

"It's a dragon." He said with a voice that was straining on his patience. By Akatosh, he's ignorant. "They cannot touch the fade."

Uthreida fought the urge to laugh. While not technically wrong, he's not right either. "How do they fly? I would assume that their body mass would prevent-"

"Their musculature allow them thrust but does require vast amounts of energy to put out. The winds of higher currents offer lift where dragon's wings can change course for drag while their body weight alone is enough for weight. Using these four principles a dragon can fly." His tone edging on irritation as he looked at her. Waiting for her asinine questions to stop.

She only smiled. Every ounce of her wanted to say 'actually,' but he wanted science, not facts. Annoyed at his annoyance and irritated that his snide quips. "Where do they come from?" She asked, feigning a false innocence at the scholar.

His mask moved slightly to indicate he jutted his jaw quickly at her. His breath was harsh as he looked her over. "Never mind." He tapped the book. "I'll have another transcribe the manuscript." He stood so quickly that his chair knocked back. He turned on his heel in a huff.

Cassandra glared at her to make it right. "There is another," Uthreida said louder to the man. "One in the Inquisition who can give a personal account of the symbiotic relationship between humans and dragons." She noticed he slowly turned to her. She smirked at him. "A story of one who lived inside the lair. But, I don't wish to waste your time."

He gave a huff, and with leaden feet, marched back to her. Picking up the chair and seating again. He crossed his arms. "I am a man of scholar and education. I will not be belittled by some puissant thug who mocks my work."

Uthreida leaned back. Smiling at the man knowing she could take him in a fight. "This puissant knows where the last alpha male is." She said slowly. Watching the realization cross his eyes, cutting away in thought, then back to her again. "And as an agent of the Inquisition, I'm sure we can set you up with our former dragon cultist. Who maybe eager to help you in your endeavors. But-"she picked up the manuscript and started to read, "Maybe you don't need the help of this puissant." She pulled out her 'hip pocket guide to dragons.' She navigated through the manuscript. Finding ancient insight and recipes for the dragons. "What dragon are you here for?" Her smile becoming predatory.

He was silent as he looked at the manuscript. "Abyssal High Dragon." She leafed through the manuscript and found the mention. In her book, she found the chapter dedicated to it. She stole the quill and ink, transcribing the manuscript into her own book for future notes to herself. "What does it say?"

She looked at the scholar with a brow and smirked. "It's a list of ingredients to draw one out."

His eyes widened as he looked at the pages he couldn't read. He looked at Uthreida quickly and bowed his head. "My deepest apologies, Lady." Uthreida smirked as she leaned back. "Forgive my foppish behavior before. I was not expecting a woman of such" he paused to find a decent word. It was getting pathetic, but she was kind enough to let him struggle with this display of humility on his own. "Incredible…aptitudes." She snorted. So did the team. Cole was distracted by something else. "I would be honored to have your name synonymous with all dragon findings." She was pretty sure he was lying. "The world will know you as" he paused again, and she smiled when she realized he didn't remember her name. His eyes shifted quickly to scan his own memory.

"Uthreida." Cassandra said lowly. Both to help and to warn.

She shot Cassandra a playful look but sighed to the scholar. "You'll need five livers, quills, intestine, all fired with spindle weed for aromatics."

He took an excited breath. "I'll need the quills and intestine. If you could supply-"

"By contract, I'm a slayer, not a hunter."

He tilted his head slightly. "The difference?"

She gave an annoyed expression. "'There it is' versus 'go find it'. So, you bring it, I'll kill it."

The scholar scoffed. "I am missing the key ingredients for this. To see an Abyssal High Dragon would be the find of the age. They are believed to be extinct. To examine the remains of-"

"Oh" she said with deeper understanding.

"You understand. The academical find alone-"

"I'm not killing it."

He made a sound like he was punched in the stomach. "Excuse me?" He said more defensively.

She shrugged. "You find it, you draw it out, and I'll look at it with you. Protect you if I have to. So," she leaned forward, waggling her brows at him. "How about it?"

The Soldier behind her cleared his throat. Uthreida turned to see him holding a piece of folded parchment. She arched a brow. She broke the seal and opened the note.

Slayer,

We talked about this. Do not get my men killed. Someone somewhere wants this dragon. Swallow your damn pride or I can inform the entire Inquisition how much of a succulent little bird you really are.

Don't mess this up.

Captain Rylen

Try me

Uthreida looked at the note with wide eyes. He wouldn't dare! She fisted the note in her hand. She called fire to watch the ashes be carried in the wind. That son of a whore, lesser monger, ice brain oaf has the audacity to threaten her with his 'findings' from her blood mage trial! And intends to sour her honor with lies of her body that he had to inspect from top to toe. She could imagine a veiled threat of calling her an adulterer before the Commander. Staining both of their honor, pride, and prestige. And just realized that she destroyed the only evidence for Cullen to reprimand the Captain if she didn't do it. Rage, anger, and the idea of embarrassment filled her at his brash and obviously ill-thought-out words. That cheeky little milk drinking-

She was breathing quicker, thinking of all the ways she was going to kill the Captain so his blood stained her armor for the next few weeks. She growled at the Scholar. "Get the supplies."

XxXxXx

She shot an annoyed look to the night sky. The scholar, a soldier, Cassandra, and Cole made good on the supplies. She ground her teeth at the Captain. The fucking gall.

She called fire and set the pile of awful aflame. She looked over the crest of the hill to see the Professor and Cole watching her. Made out by the light of one and a half-moons. A dragon's roar was heard in the sky. She took a deep breath.

The Captain wanted a death. He's got one. The dragon circled and landed in front of her. Uthreida tucked her chin, her face shield hiding the rage in as she drew her axe. The dragon's golden eyes and large teeth watching her. "Drem yol lok." She stated deeply but didn't make the usual show of respect at her introduction. "Zu'u Dovikiin Uthredda."

The dragon tilted its head, its wide rack showing the level of intelligence of the creature. It looked at the hill. Uthreida knew the dragon could see the hiding men. Uthreida circled so she stood before the men. The dragon followed her circle. Getting closer to the fire. It breathed on the fire. Extinguishing the flames. Uthreida watched a massive tongue flick and pick up the quick meal. Its massive teeth crunched on the quills of the creature.

It opened its wings to fly.

"Joor Zah Frul"

The white mist encircled the wings and the dragon roared in anger. Uthreida took her time, walking to the side of the dragon. The dragon lifted its head to the sky and roared again. Uthreida dropped her ax in her hand. She shouted as she used the pick of the axe to penetrate the tough hide. It howled again. She flipped the axe and swung with the beard first. It caught in the open wound and she pulled with everything to open the wound wider.

Blood stained the sand and the dragon backed up, toppling over pillars in the area. "Krosis" it begged.

Uthreida drew her sword. She slammed it through the throat. It's Thu'um trapped in its chest. She took the blade and pulled down, slicing the throat open on the creature. It made a wheezing sound and backed up again. Uthreida noticed its wings were breaking through. She quickly got under the throat. She slid her sword through the other side, and cut every ateries on her swipe down.

The sand now in a pool of blood. Slowly absorbing the precious liquid.

The white mist faded. The dragon opened her wings to flee. It took off, but landed several feet from Uthreida. She walked to it. It's weak now and on the edge of death. She heard it take in a sucking breath to try and fight back, but with the throat cut, no words could escape her mouth. No Thu'um could be used.

Disgust filled her as she stepped towards her prey. Another sucking sound filled the great beast. Its legs grew weak under it. It crumpled on its stomach unceremoniously.

It snapped at her as she approached. Uthreida stopped and stood there. Disgusted that it would come to this. That this is what she came to. She could kill it. Or let it die. She shook her head. Hoping Rylen was happy.

"Wuld." She stood to its chest her blade poised at its side. The dragon tried to breathe again and showed the spaces of her ribs. She found it. Her blade pierced the flesh to the hilt. It made a throated whimper as she sliced down, opening of the ribs. Taking its heart. It moved again and Uthreida took a step back. It moaned, its head lulling back to the sand. Another wet sucking sound as the Dragon tried to breathe. Uthreida breathed with her. "Krosis." She offered.

It moaned again. The sound of air escaping a waterfall filled her helm. Uthreida put a bloodied hand to its wound.

The dragon's heart stopped. She gave an annoyed grunt. Great. She killed a dragon that was thought to be extinct. Add that to her ridiculous repertory.

The dragon's soul flowed around the dragon, seeking escape, and found hers instead. The orange glow filled her with heat like her organs were on fire. Uthreida bent slightly at the discomfort of another dragon soul. The heat slowly died, replaced with the heat of the desert and the cooler breeze of the night. She touched the dragon again. "Krosis." She said again. "This was never my intention. Forgive me." Heat filled her again. She guessed the dragon did not approve.

"Fascinating," Frederic called as he came from his hiding spot. "That glowing. How did you-"

"Cole." She said as she stepped off. "If you don't mind. Make sure he forgets that last part."

She walked away, hearing Cole utter his word of "forget." Wondering if she ever would forget herself. Choosing stained honor over reputation.

XXXX

Cullen circled the sparring ring. It's been a few months, but he could remember the steps easily. If, albeit, slightly out of breath. Rylen smiled from across the ring. Seemingly perfectly fine. "You done, Commander?"

"Done?" he said breathlessly, "I'm just trying to save your pride. But if you yield, no one will blame you."

Rylen laughed it off. He rolled a shoulder and held his shield up. The man never quits, does he? All the more reason he's lucky to have him. Cullen used the shirt off his stomach to wipe the sweat from his face. Cullen lifted his training shield and weapon.

The two circled, watching the other's movements. Easier as neither was in armor. Maker, he missed this. The lyrium no longer holding him back. The fear was replaced with the exhilaration of a battle. He smiled. Lifted his shield, and ran. Rylen blocked. Three strikes with the blade that Rylen was able to block met with their simultaneous shield bash. Locking the shields. Cullen went above the shield with his sword and Rylen stepped back. Cullen kicked him back making him stagger. The Captain recovered and smirked. Rylen went on the offensive, slashing and lunging at Cullen. His shield work had grown better since they last fought. He was impressed. He arched high and Cullen threw up his shield. The clash of metal and Cullen went for the pit of his arm. Rylen took a step back. Both shields raised. Circling. Smiling. Each keeping a crouched position behind their shields. Rylen changed the grip on his blade and Cullen ran for it. Meeting strike for strike. His heart beating wildly and missed the backhanded swing of Rylens shield catching Cullen on the jaw. He staggered back and fell. Rylen kept his assault. Cullen knocked his sword out of the way. Getting to his feet quickly. He kept his sword raised, a higher warning to the Captain. He took the bait. Slashing and meeting the clash, he waited.

Rylen went high and he spun around him, slamming his shield into Rylen's back. The Captain stumbled. He spun and was ready again. Rylen took a step back, they circled the full width of the ring, smiling, panting.

Maker, this was his calling.

They met, Rylen feigned an attack and Cullen raised his shield. The clashing metal of sword on sword. Cullen saw an opening and took it. His blade caught on Rylens shield and was ripped from his hands. He had moments to register. He raised his shield to block and parry attacks.

Rylen went high. Cullen stepped in and turned. The arm of the Captain landed on his shoulder. Cullen grabbed Rylen by the wrist and threw the Captain to the ground over his shoulder. He quickly kneeled on his chest. The edge of his shield pointed at Rylens throat. Rylen panted as he looked up from the ground. He nodded slowly in appreciation. He yielded, falling back into the sand limply.

Cullen stood, able to catch his breath, and laughed. "Makers breath." He doubled over to breathe. A smile pulling on his face as he looked at Rhylen.

Rhylen stood quickly, all smiles removed from his face. The grip on the weapon was ready. "Cullen, move."

He didn't have time to look behind him as he was shoved aside. The sound of clashing metal made him look to see full black armor assaulting Rylen. It jumped and stabbed at his throat. Rylen lifted the shield and blocked. The black armor spun. Got behind him and went for the knee.

Rylen walked off the attack but turned. The opponent turned to face him. A thin visor, elongated side guards like an elf, and black and gold armor.

Uthreida.

"I see you got my letter," Rylen stated with a smirk. His front left weak from her attack.

She spun the blade over her shoulder and pointed at him. "I did, Captain." Her helm giving her a deeper boom to her voice. Cullen stood to walk between the two.

"Did you finish it?"

"Aye, it's done." She growled, spinning her blade forward to attack.

"What is going on?" Cullen pointed two fingers at Rylen and a shield at Uthreida to stop whatever this was.

"Enough of your petty games, Captain. We end this."

"One honor for another?" Rylen stated. His arms held open wide for her attack.

Cullen pushed him back. "Don't." Uthreida moved and he held up his shield. "Stop this" he looked at Rylen. "I don't know what happened but you need to squash it. Now." He yelled at Uthreida. "We don't have time for this. Whatever this is can wait until after Adamant." He looked at Rhylen. "Drop your weapons." He only looked at her. "I said drop your weapons, Captain." Rylen took a breath. The sword and shield clattered as they landed on the ground. He looked at Uthreida. "You. He's unarmed."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She threw her weapon to the ground. Cullen noticed it was the weapon he was stripped of earlier.

Cullen lowered his shield. "Whatever this is, it ends now. We begin our assault tomorrow. I will not have one of my Captains nor our dragon slayer killed or wounded before our movement. Shake hands." Neither moved. Cullen threw the shield down. He grabbed her by the gorget and Rylen by the collar to pull them in. "Shake hands. Now." Rylen grunted. He held a hand out to her. She was hesitant. "Uthreida." Cullen stated lowly with authority of his position. "Shake his hand." He could hear her heated breathing in her helm. "Uthreida."

She took his hand with excessive force. He could tell both were holding a death grip on the other. Rylen smirked. "Don't suppose I can convince you it was an idle threat."

"I'd be more offended if it was." She threw his hand away from her. She crossed her arms and looked him down.

"Leave the ring." Cullen tilted his head to her, stated between clenched teeth and a voice that didn't carry.

"But my darling husband," she stated deadpanned, "aren't you excited I'm alive."

"You will not insist that the Captain exit the sparring rings in his own fort. Leave the rings. Now."

The rise and fall of her pauldrons showed she took two deep breaths. "Another time, Captain." She snorted and turned.

Cullen took a deep breath, his eyes catching Cassandra who followed Uthreida only to scold her on the stairs. Cullen turned to Rylen. He rolled a shoulder and watched the women leave. Cullen back handed the Captain's shoulder. "What was that?"

Rylen's blue eyes flicked to Cullen with determination but breathed. He ran a hand through his mahogany hair. The blue tattoos and scars seeming to fade in the shade. "What I had to. To see success for the mission."

"What did you do?"

He shook his head to his feet. He collected his weapons. "You done?" He asked with lowered weapons. He was referring to the ring but was vague enough to mean anything.

"We're done," Cullen warned. He collected the sword and placed it on the weapons rack. "Explain."

Rylen sighed. "I know she has a tendency to protect dragons. I left instructions that if she chose not to slay the dragon, a note was to be given."

"What note?" Cullen commanded as they climbed the stairs.

Rylen took a breath, looking over the troops in his fort as they moved. "Basically, that if she didn't slay the dragon, I'd call her out for being doxy."

Cullen arched a brow. "Doxy?" Is that Starkhaven or something?

He rubbed his neck in stress. "That I would recant to everyone what I saw during her blood mage trial."

Cullen slammed him into the staircase wall. His arm at his throat. "What were you thinking?"

Rylen pushed Cullen off and took a breath. His eyes going to his men who were watching them. He continued up the stairs. "That someone somewhere wants that dragon alive. That if she didn't do it, she needed some motivation. That's what I was thinking."

"You would be calling me a-" he bit his cheek. A cuckold. "You would cast her as an adulterer."

"Like it matters." He said quietly as they passed some soldiers. "Everyone knows your marriage is a sham. For Maker's sake, you live separately. You sleep on opposite sides of the hold. Everyone knows, Cullen."

Cullen grit his teeth. He was right. Their arrangement casts enough of a doubt to give the possibility of truth to the lie. "You were paid for discretion. If you violate it, there is no honor to your word."

"I wasn't going to go through with it. Cullen, I respect you too much for that."

"But not my wife." He hissed. Keeping the soldiers back as he glared at the Captain. "If you don't follow through with your commands, you lose the respect of your men."

Rylen dropped his eyes a heavy sigh of regret as he shook his head at his friend. "I just wanted to keep my men safe."

Cullen ran a hand through his hair as he looked over the hold. "Congratulations. Looks like you got what you wanted. Get dressed." He turned from his friend. His eyes shifted to find Seeker Cassandra quietly reprimanding Uthreida who removed her helmet. She had her arms crossed and an ignoring brow raised to the woman.

Cullen sighed, knowing he had to do something. He approached the women. Both looked at him with a warning glair and a serious expression. He was reminded of Chantry mothers who weren't in the mood for conversation. He swallowed back his childhood fear and pressed on. He looked at Cassandra with folded arms in silence.

"Commander?" She arched a thin dark brow at him.

"Seeker." His tone low to show he wanted a minute of his own reprimands. When she didn't move, he cut his eyes away from them. She glowered but threw up a hand in defeat. She walked away with fisted hands. Cullen looked down at his wife. She gave a hardened look. Her face and neck red from the sun with dark splotches of sand stuck to her skin. Her eyes blackened by the kohl.

She looked away oddly and fanned her face. She sneezed. "Bless you." She sneezed two more times and gave a frustrated growl only to cough. He fought the urge to laugh at her unorthodox display. "You alright?"

"I hate it here."

His smile broke through as he looked her over. He shook his head. With a sigh, he removed the smile. "Rylen told me what happened." She looked at him annoyed but looked on with a sniff. The same look of ignoring on her face. "I don't agree with the methods."

"I'd imagine."

There was something in her tone that ticked him. "For a woman who elected to work in the forces, you don't seem to like it when someone tells you to do your job."

She jutted a humorless laugh. "And I suppose you want me to work on it then?"

He arched a brow. "You're making a precedence." She scoffed. "You refused to slay the dragon in the Emerald Graves-"

"She was laying eggs-"

"All the more reason for you to-" he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed. She wasn't going to listen. "Rylen has a theory you might enjoy. You need to talk to him." She tsked it off. He shot her a pointed look. "Utha."

"Utha." She mocked like a child.

He grabbed her by the arm roughly to make his point. She looked at his hand, then him with a fighting spirit. "Do not patronize me." His voice low and growing at her disrespect. "I have every right to throw you over my knee and correct your behavior."

She looked at his hand again, then met his eyes with a smirk. Her silent stare of defiance wasn't one of patronizing, but of lust and desire. Daring him to try. His stomach clenched at the ideas that were passing over her eyes. "If that's supposed to be a threat, you might want to try again, Commander." Her tongue rolling his title. Cullen looked away, fighting to keep the smile off his face and losing. She bent to catch his eyes. "What do you think I'll let you do to me that I won't enjoy?" She arched a brow at him, daring him to say something.

Cullen met her eyes and sneered, a smirk still on his lips. "Leaving you in the desert." She snorted a single laugh, pulling her arm from his hands. She tapped her legs, she could walk away. His hand lifted to her throat and she jumped back with a serious expression. "Maybe something more?" he smiled condescendingly at her. Seeing her jump and become defensive. He knew he was onto something. That was her weakness.

She met his eyes and smirked. She leaned her throat into his hand. "Go on then."

Cullen looked her over, seeing her hand move to the tang of her sword. "Quite the bravado."

"Well? Unless you want to admit you're frightened of wee me."

He looked down at her with a passive intent. Only to realize what she said. He snorted a laugh at her asinine threat. "That is the most hubristic thing you've ever said." He said between fits of laughter. He was able to contain himself to see her give a sheepish smile and shrugged. "Makers breath." He crossed his arms over his chest. "The point is, I see the reason, but the method was dishonorable."

"You think?"

"As was fighting him in the fort he holds."

She took a deep breath, shaking shook her head. "I told you, I wasn't going to kill on command especially if there's a moral or ethical reason-"

"Again, speak to Rylen." She rolled her eyes. He sighed and looked her over. He took the tin on the table next to him and passed it to her. "Here." She arched a brow eyeing the tin. "Sun balm. You've got red on you." She took it and sniffed the lotion. "It'll help." She removed a glove to feel it in her fingers. "Apply to your sunburns." She shot him a skeptical look. Applying it to her neck but flinched at the contact. She tried again, breathing through the pain with a grimace. She looked at her fingers and sighed. He watched as she rubbed it in her neck and face. A clump of the lotion catching on her cheek. He ran a thumb to pick it up and place it on her nose that she missed. She passed it back to him. He noticed her eye liner was thicker than usual making her eyes seem smaller. "Why do you do that?"

"Ha?"

"You've practically blackened out your eyes. Why?"

"To protect…them?"

"From?"

"The sun."

"Why?"

She sighed irritated. "Blackening the eyes allows the light to be absorbed around the eyes and prevents blindness from the sun's glair in the sands and snow."

"So, it's not for aesthetics?"

"I mean-" she shrugged as he chuckled. "But the point is, it helps with eyesight. Cassandra hasn't complained yet."

Cullen chuckled. "I'd imagine."

She looked at him with an evil smile. "You want to try?"

"No."

"So you prefer squinting in the sun and not being able to see."

"That's not what I said-"

"I mean, it would make sense. So stubborn that you would revoke even the idea of aide from-"

"Will you stop,"

"That could actually help you. A feat your enemies already know, looking at Dorian-"

"Fine," he said quickly to quell the argument. He looked at her as she smiled in victory. He grunted. "Does it work though?"

"You tell me," she said as she dropped her pack onto the desk next to them and started to ruffle through it. She pulled out a small black pot and a brush.

Cullen pulled his head back slightly then at her. "Not as thick." he waved a vague hand to her face to indicate her own makeup.

"Of course, of course." she dipped the brush into the, paint, he assumed. She held up a hand to hold his chin. "Look up." He grunted and did as instructed. He watched the top of the awning move in the breeze. She pulled the brush back and watched her as she smiled like a villain as she pulled his skin back from his cheek to apply to the other eye. She pulled away and smiled, her eyes searching both of his. "There. Like a proper heathen." Cullen grunted at her comment. She waved a hand to the battlements. "Does it work?"

He shot her annoyed look quickly before seeing what she was talking about. It did help reduce some of the glare from the sands. He pouted as she proved the point. His jaw ticked as he knew the second he confirmed, she would pounce. "Seems to be...effective."

He looked down at her to see her smiling at him. "You should do this more often." she wiped a thumb across his cheek to get some excess paint. Her blue eyes looking into his but he noticed her scar seemed to turn darker. A small heat filled his core making his skin hotter in the blaze of the sun. She looked away to put the supplies back in her pack.

Familiar footfalls made Cullen turn to see Rylen adjusting his gloves as he was now armored for the day. He heard Uthreida straighten her back to watch the Captain approach. Rylen kept a safe distance from her, giving a perplexed look at Cullen's face, and crossed his arms. "Slayer." She remained silent at the comment.

"Captain Rylen." Cullen cut in. "I believe an apology is in order."

The Captain looked to him, then her. "I will not apologize for protecting my men. But I will apologize for the methods used." He nodded. "I was wrong-"

Uthreida took a step towards him but Cullen held her by the arm to stop her assault. "I chose reputation over honor, Captain." She stated with venom. "I hope you're satisfied."

Rylen only breathed as he watched her seethe. "Thank you." She growled at him. "And I risked my honor and respect by doing this. It was not taken lightly, I assure you."

She scoffed at him. "And what do I care of your honor when it's obvious you have no care of mine?"

Rylen took a heavy breath. "I give my word it'll never happen again."

She snorted like a bad taste. "Your word has proven worthless to me." She tried to break out of Cullen's grasp only for him to hold her by the second arm. "I demand action."

"My actions will show-"

"Have you met my friend, Cole?" She asked with a tilted head.

The Commander looked to see the wide hat stand behind Rylen. He turned, a hand on his weapon as he looked at the spirit. Cole raised his head to look at Rylen's eyes. "That wasn't very nice." He said ghoulishly. Rylen took a step back, but Cole didn't move. He just stood there. He looked to the fort. "Weaving, running, moving, laughing, learning, leading. You love your men. You wanted to help them."

Rylen looked at Cullen with a brow. Cullen pulled her back to his chest. "Call this off." He hissed at her. If Rylen forgot anything, it compromises him.

Uthreida tilted her head. "You're choice, Captain. Make the right one."

Cole lifted his hand, Rylen drew a blade. Cullen held his breath.

Cole didn't move. He tilted his head to hear something. He lowered his hand slowly. "You'll forget. Eventually. You'll forget. Too weak to drop the blue. He wounded but didn't hurt. The betrayal you were expecting. The wound hurts both of you. In the same place." Cole looked at Uthreida, and vanished.

Rylen blinked and looked awkwardly at the couple. He smirked. "Well, that didn't go the way you were expectin'." She snarled. "If it makes you feel any better, that hurt." He jutted a thumb where Cole once stood.

"Get off." She fought against Cullen who let her go. "You ever do that again, your throat is mine." She growled with a pointed finger at him.

"Noted."

Cullen cleared his throat. "Can you two play nice long enough for me to get changed?" Silence filled the space between the two. He sighed. "Rylen, why don't you inform her of your theory? Who knows," he waved over his shoulder, "maybe she can fill in the gaps you're missing."

He made his way to Rylen's office in the south corner and applied his armor quickly. Shutting the door, a runner distracted him with missives of movements and numbers. He looked over long enough to see Rylen working and speaking to Uthreida as they stood over the table and map. He smirked as he walked. But frowned when Royoc came into view. So it begins.

Xxxx

Cullen pulled the rag from his face to inspect. Finally, his nose stopped bleeding. Dry air and dirt was wrecking havoc on his sinus since he arrived. Maker, he missed the mountains.

He looked over the troops quickly from his horse. The men moved in an obvious formation with the banners in the front and the ballista in the middle with the other men in the rear. If the Wardens didn't see it before, they did now. He looked ahead at the mirage that was Adamant in the distance. He took a deep breath. This was what it all boiled down to.

Months of planning, with now a proper general waiting for him on the ground and a few Orleasian commanders at his rear. He had this.

Then why was his stomach sinking with the idea of failure?

He looked over his shoulder again, and again, his eyes found her in the crowd. He'd be lying if he said he didn't look forward to Cassandra's missives of their journeys. NOting that she had become hostile but not confrontational of Solas practically overnight. Of her refusal to kill the dragon in the Emerald Graves simply because it was there. Meanwhile, the Soldiers cordoned off the area nearby of the Fade rift. He could imagine her, standing there with weapons drawn and watching the dragon as the men worked. Ready to move. Hoping she wasn't leaning against a rock. Drinking.

Just as much as he imagined their night in the gazebo. Her soft skin and warm body pressed against his. Her argument ready as he cast her aside. And yet, his nights have been filled with dreams of her again. As both his lover and death. He was curious what kind of lover she was. What she was actually like under her armor. How she would smile if her defenses were laid bare. He wondered if he could, if he would, even consider such a relationship like that with her.

It's been a month and a half. Not seeing her, hearing her, realizing just how much he missed her midday interludes and random conversations. Her lewd comments and presumed authority over him. He had seen her for the last two days, but constantly pulled away for logistics or meetings or something else that always stood in the way. And by the time he was able to find her, she was gone, or asleep, or doing something.

He clenched his jaw and looked at the fortress that stood on the horizon again. He needed to focus. He clouded his mind with the siege plan again, and again ran over the number of troops and capabilities of the Wardens in their keep.

But she was so close and he needed to apologize for what he did. Before they-

He clicked Cadence off the road and pretended to inspect the troops as they passed. It took every ounce of discipline to not rush to her side as she passed him. He pretended to look over the formations and morale of the men. He heeled Cadence into a canter and rode to her side casually.

"Slayer."

"Commander." She stated monotone.

"How's the desert treating you?"

"It's a desert. I'm not made for this heat."

He chuckled. "Yes, I heard you fell out a few times."

"I don't want to talk about it." She grunted.

He laughed at her insistence. "Less alcohol, more water." She grumbled something that he missed. They rode in silence but he noticed it was more heated than usual. "I have a favor to ask." She grunted with a brow raised. "We're expecting a heavy battle. I was wondering if you'd be willing, if you're not, that is-"

"Spit it out." She said tersely, her eyes not even meeting his.

He deflated his shoulders. "If we could talk tonight."

"We're talking now." Her voice held little emotion to him.

He looked her over and her rigidity. She was angered at something but didn't say. He sighed. "What did I do now?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you being so cold?"

"I am a child of snow and ice. What were you expecting?" Her voice was defensive and rising in octave.

Her lowered brows and pursed lips telling him he did, in fact, do something. He sighed. "I can't guess what's in your head. You have to tell me how I-"

"It's nothing." He looked away, realizing she was still on that. His dismissal after their drunken kiss. "I'm just trying to get where we need to go, and trying to focus on the fact that there's a dragon there that I have to slay to end the war."

Cullen clenched his jaw and looked on, pretending to survey the troops. "I wanted to discuss," he said softer only to realize the sound of hooves and metal armor drowned out his voice. "I wanted to apologize."

She arched a brow but looked on. "For?"

He took a breath, realizing this was neither the time nor place. Even if they did talk about it now, her usual animated speech would give away the conversation. "There's a war meeting tonight I'd like for you to sit on. We can discuss your placement in the field and your capabilities to bring down the dragon. If it shows."

"It'll show."

"You seem so confident."

She chuckled. "That dragon is a power play and a means of destruction. Corypheus should know by now that an army marches to his Wardens. He'll need speed and power to stop it to save what remains of his plans. Thus, the dragon will rear its head."

Cullen sighed, "Let's pretend you're wrong. Then what?"

She shrugged. "Slaughter glory?"

"We are trying to save the wardens." He stated annoyed.

"I meant the demons." She said with an annoyed look.

"Right." He took a breath and readjusted on his horse. "We should be getting close to Hawkes rendezvous point. Be prepared to attend the meeting tonight." She gave a nod at him to confirm. He looked her over. She seemed colder than usual. "Are you alright?"

"Honestly," she said with a pained expression, "my back hurts, my arse is sore, I can't breathe, and it's apparent that my moons blood starts in two days. Aye," she said with a smile, "great time for a siege."

Cullen chuckled into his chest at her honest retort. Same woman. Maker, take her quickly. Cullen looked ahead and wiped the smile from his face. He looked at his soldiers and saw they were a decent enough distance between the sounds. "Can we just talk?" He asked lowly.

"Are we not?" She asked with some confusion. "Am I hallucinating? I should probably eat something." She reached in her saddlebags to look for food, he assumed.

He gave an annoyed grunt as she apparently didn't want to talk. About it. With him. About what he did. And said. "Never mind."

"No, please" she held an apple that had significant bruising. She pulled the knife, cut off the area that was bruised and took a bite. "What we're you going to-" she spit out the apple disgusted. She threw the apple across the sands and away from her. She made sounds of disgust as she looked in her bag again.

"You seem preoccupied."

"Nope, pretty sure I'm just hallucinating." She found something and stuck it in her mouth. Cullen noticed it was some hard tact. She looked at him, a corner of the tact in her mouth to let her saliva soften the biscuit. "What did you want to talk about?"

Cullen opened his mouth but closed it again when he took her in. He smirked as food was hanging out of her mouth and looking pale, even with the burn on her cheeks and nose. "I can't take you seriously right now."

"Well, fuck you too illusion."

"You're not hallucinating." He stated annoyed.

She tilted her head away from him with a squinted eye. "Hit me."

"What? No."

"Sounds like something a hallucination would say."

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose at the insufferability of the woman. He just wanted to apologize. "I'm sorry." He seethed with sealed eyes and a growing migraine.

"That" she said with a smile, a hand holding the biscuit in her hands, "is something a hallucination would defiantly say" she chuckled as she looked at him. "For what?"

He wanted to waive his hand back and forth to show them, but the soldiers would see. He took a quick breath and snorted. "For my reaction to our-" he rolled a hand suggestively, but her expression was still confused. "Kiss."

"Oh," she said with lowered brows. "You still on about that?"

He looked at her like she slapped him. "I-I was." She made a sound and sucked on her biscuit again. Cullen scowled and looked straight ahead. Letting the sounds of the soldiers and hooves fill his head. What does that even mean? Was she over it? Is she over…him? He looked away, knowing the threat of the knife of his wounds. Fine. If she was over it, he was over it. There's nothing to be 'on about' because he's only been thinking of it every day for the last month and it's not like it's infected his every waking moment since. But fine. She's over it and wasn't 'on it', whatever that means, anymore. He guessed she was off of it. Off of him. Over him. Not thinking of a way it could be or what might be like he did. Does that mean she didn't care? Like it didn't matter? Like they, as married, no longer mattered? Did he push her away? Too far? Too fast? Was she out of reach now? Did he completely mess this up? "What do you mean?" He snapped.

She looked over at him slowly. "You want to pretend like it never happened. That it meant nothing. So," she shrugged mildly. "as far as you're concerned, it never happened." Her voice grew softer as she spoke. Making it a more personal conversation.

Cullen rubbed his neck but pulled it back quickly when he realized others could see. He licked his scar for a second, breathing around the lump in his throat. She was over him. Over it. He…needed to be too. Right? He looked over at her quickly, a heat filled his core even the desert couldn't match. The feel of her and the peace of her soul as she clung to him. Closer to tranquility than he's felt in such a long time. If he couldn't keep her, he could…his heart throbbed at the idea of a fantasy. To live in a dream as she walked away. Something to keep his sanity at her rejection. "Look," he dropped his eyes to see the soldiers marching by them, "we were in a good place." He lowered his voice for her. "I just want to get back to that." Close enough to touch, but out of reach. To accept the slow shatter. To watch as she smiled at everyone else but him. Again.

She made a pieting expression that seemed comical. "The past is in the past. We can't go back, Cullen, for we aren't meant to go there. But we can put it behind us and move forward."

He took a shaking breath. He didn't want to go back, he wanted forward. But forward meant-

He clenched his jaw. Back. Back is safe. He looked at her and knew he could deal with one-sided affections. He could hide it. He didn't want to drag her down in his history or dementia. She was temporary. This was temporary. But he wanted to try. He looked away, the clinking buckles of Cadence's harness allowed for a temporary reprieve from his own mind. A reprieve from breathing with a knife in his chest. "What do you want?" He practically whispered to her. Don't say me. Please say me. Don't follow me. Just hold me through the shakes. Give me what little time remains.

In her silence, he looked at her to see a curious expression. She slowly removed the bread from her lips. Cullen dropped his eyes. He realized he had hunched at some point. He pulled himself upright and looked over his men with a mask of authority. He looked back at her, but under her gaze, the mask slipped. "Well?"

She looked at him, her knowing eyes seeing something and she lowered a brow slightly in thought. With a smile, she leaned in. "A safe dalliance." She said with a ruthless smile. Cullen grunted as she used his own words against him. She smirked and sat upright. "I would agree that going back would be safer. But, we can't. So, it may be best to try and forge a new" she paused as she looked for the words. She sighed hard. "I know you know that particular path is a horrible idea." She looked away with a smile. Cullen felt himself sit up on his horse as he listened to her words with impending hope. "But." She dropped her face to hide from him. She wiped her face and didn't meet his gaze. She's thought about it. "That said, if you don't-"

Insecurity ran though him as he looked at her. "Why?" He asked with a disgusted face.

She frowned quickly. "Honestly, I'm curious what you'll use to betray me. How you'll hurt me." Her eyes shifted into studying intrigue as she looked at him. "You can't betray someone you don't trust. And if you don't give me a reason to hesitate, you're not going to win that fight."

He looked away to find something to pull him out of his own heart. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to betray you."

She quickly smiled at him. A sad smile. "But you have every motive. And every reason. I almost believe you." She said with a sigh. "So, how will you betray me?"

"I-I don't know."

She smirked, placing the hard tact back in her mouth. "Well, won't it be fun to find out. To watch and see how your mind works."

Regret filled her eyes as she looked at him. Wisdom of a thousand betrayals and he had to look away less she sees his own. He swayed with Cadence's slow movement as they walked in silence. "Why?" He asked again. Wanting to understand. But she didn't hear him. He was too silent in his distrust. He cleared his throat quietly. "I've, ah, never, um-" he grit his teeth and looked ahead.

"Oh, aye. I can tell." he shot her an annoyed look that she grinned at.

He grunted and looked away. He scratched his head, not knowing what to do or how to move or…how this even works. "How will you betray me?"

She smirked. "What if me giving you the thing that can never be replaced or replicated ever again is my betrayal?" She tilted her head to him. But he couldn't tell if it was an invitation, or a warning. She intended to kill him slowly.

He smirked. "You intend to use me?"

"Use implies you have something I want."

"Do I not?" She gave a full look over with a smirk. The corner of her biscuit hanging out of her mouth. Cullen squinted his eyes at her. Having no idea at her logic or reasoning. He knew that she was some person from strange lands that needed trade. Refers to herself as a dragon, but fights her blood. Was able to find peace with a lost love, but had the capability to overrun the Inquisition but had no plans for such grandeur. She has sworn to kill him but not harm any Fereldan and aide the Inquisition. To break her oaths is to break her honor and can't lie. What is she getting at? What's her move? Why market herself as healthy? "Right. Peculiar selling tactic." She's crazy. This is highly illogical. Why is she doing this? He looked away quickly. Does she…want…and is just being defensive? He looked over the men and saw a break in the formation. "Can I-" he lowered his brows as he looked at her. Considering the possibilities before him. If he moves forward, she will watch him for betrayals. If he moves back, he's safe and…alone. But if he moves back, will it be…truly back? "Can I get back to you on that?"

"Aye." She said with a socially awkward smirk. "Do what you need to illusion."

He rolled his eyes. "You're not hallucinating."

Her silent look and knowing eyes bore into him with a playful air. "Then carry on, Valok." His stomach tightened at her pet name. Not knowing what it meant, but knowing it meant something to her. "Stay or go. The path is yours."

He bit back the desire to call her dear, or love, or even pup. He pulled Cadence off his path, completely and utterly confused, to see to the break in the formation to the rear. His eyes drifting to the black armor and the possibility of a red halo on his pillows and the scent of thistle in his arms.

Xxxx

Finally, she said to herself. That was the most awkward and slow and annoying and boring war meeting she had ever sat in on. At one point, she convinced herself she had died and was in the darkest parts of the hell spire and this was her fate for all eternity. The only delight was watching Cullen get annoyed at the older men who kept interrupting with 'back in my day.' Seeing him snap his patience with "if it's not perdent now, or requires a story, keep it to yourself. Now," And then the Inquisitors side-eye at him. Hilarious. But it was entertaining to see him know when to speak up and when to step down. Answering every question with conviction and authority as it seemed the elder ones wanted to play stump the chump on his own logistics. Each earning a nod and a militaristic polite reframe when they wanted to change the plan that required more time. They were sieging tomorrow and that was that.

Her mind kept going back to earlier that day. Watching his confusion as she did everything to both steer him off and invite him less he see that she both wanted it but had no idea where it went. And honestly, even she was confused after the conversation. Like rowing a boat to higher ground that's taking on water. It was a foolish idea, but intrigued the worse part of her. This wasn't the time, the place, the means, they are both in a bad place, and yet, she had a taste. And the greed is overcoming her.

She waved the idea off. If he didn't think she was crazy before, he does now. Moving on.

She shambled her way back to her tent, rubbing her own neck in stress. She opened her pack to confirm the dragon scroll and allowed a yawn at its presence. She started the process of removing her armor and her nightly routine. Washing her face and brushing her hair, Uthreida sat on her cot, taking deep meditative breaths. Clearing her mind as she mediated on the dragon words she would need for tomorrow's battle and siege of Adamant. Of how this will be a turning point for the Inquisition.

She took another breath, trying to find her center of peace.

"Knock knock, Slay-er." She looked up to see Hawke look disappointed. "Damn." He stepped into the tent and bowed. "Good evening. I hope you don't mind, I went ahead and took the liberty of procuring some contraband." He held up a bottle of alcohol with a smile.

"Enjoy it." She said coolly, closing her eyes again and breathed.

"I was thinking" the rouge plopping on her cot and jostling her from the meditations. "Of sharing." His wide smile pointed directly at her.

She looked at the bottle again and saw the intentions in his dark eyes. "No, but thank you."

She heard him smirk as she closed her eyes again. "You know what I find interesting?" She arched an annoyed brow at the man, not shaking the feeling she was about to find out. "How you and your husband aren't sharing a tent."

"Is there something you need, Champion?"

He gave a lusty laugh but shook his head. "I'm just trying to understand it."

She looked annoyed at him. Seeing him out of his armor was actually more imposing than when he was in it. "And what part is eluding you?"

"Oh, I don't know." He said with a breath as he shook the bottle again. "The fact you're together but not together. Before a major battle at that. If I was the Captain," he let the sentence fall and she felt his eyes rove over her in unarmored sweat-stained shirt.

"Then I would advise you to think past your cock." She rolled her shoulders and tried to get comfortable again.

An uncomfortable silence befell them but she was acutely aware of his location and preventing her from concentrating. "Be honest with me." He said above a whisper. "Why? I assumed he told you what happened in Kirkwall."

She took a breath, seeing Cullen's wounded face as she demanded answers, seeing his weakness at the pull of the lyrium, his trying at going against doctrine to train battle mages. "Hawke. I have come to respect you. But this is the second time you have disrespected my husband in my presence. If you do it again, I will offer you two shields."

He was silent for a moment. "Which means?"

"The first to shatter two shields, will draw blood on the third round."

"Oh." He leaned back on the cot and she opened one eye to see him looking at her with a concerned look. "Come on. Why though? I mean, I don't see the attraction. A big dick can go a long way, but at some point, you need mental stimulation. And he doesn't really seem the type."

Uthreida sighed in exhaustion. "Hawke-"

"Is he abusing you? Does he hold his rank above you? Are you safe?"

She took a deep breath, remembering how Cullen beat a chevalier who was rapping his own men, how he was physically unable to control his rage at the man. Knowing he had come close to beating her, and never did. Actually going out of his way to ask for consent in a few instances. She blinked slowly at the man feeling sleep pull at her from the day's heat and ride. "You are rudely interrupting my nightly routine. While I appreciate the concern, I assure you, I can handle myself."

Hawks eyes searched hers for a lie. A plea, but was met with a tired blink. "Look" he ran a hand over his face quickly. "All I wanted to say was, after this, whole, Grey Warden fiasco, what do you say you and I go about-"

"Hawke." She warned.

"See some dragons. It'll be fun." He wore a wide smile to set her at ease. "I can show you what it means to be a dragon." He waved his hand wide like he was painting a sunset.

Uthreida smirked, resting her head on a fist. "And what does it mean to be a dragon, Hawke?"

"The power." He said with both fists and a smile.

"You're half right." She said with a smile. "To be a dragon is to be dominate. To have your power and position as self-evident of your being. To slaughter those who would dare question our truths. But I wonder, Garrett, would you be willing to sacrifice your humanity for the immortality of the dov?"

"In a second."

She cocked a brow. "And when Varric tells you you're wrong?"

He waived it off. "I'm a dragon, what do I care."

"Careful." She said as she took her meditative position again, "I've seen where that path goes. It is dark and lonely. And even dragons crave conversation."

Hawke lowered his brows at her and opened his mouth to ask. The tent flap opened slightly with a hand waving. "Male." Cullen warned before entering.

Hawke looked at the tent flap, then Uthreida who arched an annoyed brow as Cullen entered. He stopped and took in the scene. His eyes went from business to death as he gazed at the Champion. Cullen entered the tent and stood, crossing his arms as he looked at the darker man. Cullen was out of armor and tried so hard to look imposing. His eyes flicked to Uthreida who sighed, realizing she wasn't going to bed any time soon. His eyes flicked to the bottle then the male. "Hawke."

"Rutherford." He stated deeper than usual to show disrespect.

"I believe Varric is looking for you."

Hawke paused back slightly. "Why? He knows where I am."

"Care to explain to me what you're doing here then?"

Hawke smirked and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. "Oh, is this your tent? How delightfully embarrassing for me. I should have assumed, I mean, your wife, empty cot. I should have put two and two together." He stood to face the man. Uthreida rolled her eyes at the pissing contest. Cullen looked down at Uthreida with a warning look. "Long day, huh?" Hawke asked with a fake smile. "You know, when I have a bad day, I like to whisper under my breath, 'damnit Anders' and it makes me chuckle. You should try it."

Cullen looked at Garrett with a look of moral disgust that would impale lesser men. "I'm not about to downplay the actions of a terrorist, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of innocent people, to make myself feel better about the aggravation of a mundane task."

Hawke looked at Uthreida with a sense of social awkwardness. "Just trying to be helpful." He stated lamely with a shrug.

Cullen actually growled at the man, his hands fisting at his sides as he looked down on the rouge.

Uthreida sighed as Cullen was obviously at his daily limit of Hawke. She stood from her cot and grabbed her axe. "Hawke, out. What?" She asked Cullen tersely. The men stayed looking down at one another. She dropped her hand grip on the ax to give her distance. She pushed Hawke by the shoulder towards the tent exit. When he didn't move, she reared it back.

"Alright, alright" he held up his hands and stepped away. "Andrates tits. Calm down. I'm leaving." He threw up his hands and forced the tent flap out of his way as he stormed out. Her eyes turned to Cullen. She crossed her arms still holding the axe.

He looked her over but didn't speak. She arched an annoyed brow. "I'm not talking until you put that down."

She tossed the axe to her pack and put her hands on her hips. "Yes, Commander. What can I do for you this evening?" She stated deadpanned.

He looked her over, then the tent flap, back to her. His shoulders deflated as he took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk."

"About?"

He looked her over again, then eyed the tent flap. He cleared his throat and lowered his shoulders. He clenched his jaw and lowered his arms. "I know it's late, but-" he sighed, rubbing his neck. "Do you mind?" She blinked slowly at him. He did not just suggest intimacy so flippantly, did he? "With the battle tomorrow, I was wondering, if you wanted to, that is, if it's alright, if you could-" she was fully awake now. Smiling. "Massage my neck."

"Oh." She said disappointed. Not realizing it was a thing she was looking forward to. Is that-is that why her stomach dropped? Or was she just looking forward to his submission?

He looked her over and cocked a brow. "What?"

"Ha?"

He smirked in that knowing way he does with a slight head tilt. "What?"

"Lay down." She used both hands to indicate her cot.

He paused as he looked at the cot. He cleared his throat again. "I-ah, don't think this is an appropriate time-"

"On your stomach."

His eyes stayed on the cot, then her. She crossed her arms waiting on him. "Are we" he lowered his voice and looked at the flap again. "We're talking about the same thing, right?"

"Aye, rubbing on you." A blush crept up his neck that made her smile at his adverted eyes. "On your back."

He jutted his chin in annoyance at her but fought the smile. "Maybe I should sit."

"Oh, aye. Grand idea. The cots not that wide. Help prevent cramps in me thighs."

His full face was red now, fighting the smile until it became a small point on his face. His scar on his lip was stark white compared to the rest of his composure. "I should go."

He turned to leave but Uthreida grabbed him by the arm with a laugh. "I'm just teasing. Come." He tilted his head at her as she dragged him to her cot. "Lay down." She waved a hand to the cot and pulled out the muscle salve she had in her pack. "Remove your shirt"

"What?" He asked from below her, "why?" She lifted the jar for his inspection with a look of playful confusion on her face. He looked at the jar from the far side of the cot. "What is it "

"Muscle salve."

"What's in it?"

"I don't know. I bought it off some merchant in the Arbors. But I use it. I like the smell. It's cold at first then it heats up and just, mmm." She smiled pleasingly at the jar but passed it to him for his inspection. He arched a brow at it. But he looked away. "I um, last time, I kept my shirt on."

"Aye, and I imagine the rough twill rubbed your skin raw the next day, didn't it."

He gave a groan and pulled his shirt from his back. He heaped it in a ball in his hands. Uthreida looked at the planes of his back as he moved to lay down on her cot, watching his muscles move under his skin as he laid face down. The deep cut of his spine and the thickness of his triceps. He had minimal scars, but a burn high on his waist on his left side. She unscrewed the cap and stood beside him. She wanted to be professional about this. That he looked like every other Nord. Albeit leaner. And not as hairy. The shadows of the candles on the planes and muscles. She shook her head. Ridding whatever warmth had curled into her stomach and ideas away. She scooped some the salve into her hands, she dabbed thick globs on the base of his neck, his middle back, and the small of his back that had an imprint like a book. He gave a shiver at each drop that she smiled at. She sealed the jar and got to work.

Cullen would grunt and eventually breathe with her movements as she started at the top. Working his tight neck and shoulders first. Moving lower to work the middle of the back, pushing years of training to his oblique. Then lower, pushing the weight of armor from his hips back up to the neck. She kept both hands on him as she worked. Letting him know exactly where her hands were at all times. Equally enjoying the salve on her hands. He would sigh and make appreciative sounds as she worked. Noticing a few smirks on his face as she leaned over him.

Her legs started to get tired standing and hunching over him. "Bear with me." She warned. She moved to straddle the cot and sat on his rear so she could reach and apply pressure with ease.

He jostled the cot to look at her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable. Now relax."

He sat up on his elbows. "I don't think-"

"That's perfect, don't move." She used her elbow and placed it in his upper back.

"Uthreida-" She applied pressure and popped his back. "Oh, Maker." He dropped his head and breathed. "Do it again."

"Can't. It's a once-a-day thing. Now, relax." He did as instructed and dropped back on the cot. She was able to apply pressure as needed.

"What did Hawke want?"

"To drink." She said casually, feeling the hardened planes of his muscles now make silken by the salve. "He questioned why we didn't share a tent."

He was silent for a moment but noticed a few of his muscles tighten in his thoughts. "What did you say?"

"That he needed to think past his cock." She was careful of his scars to not apply too much pressure on them.

He fell silent again before taking a deep breath. "There are others," he said slowly, "who question. Given social expectations and normatives."

She looked down at him, feeling his muscles tighten again. "Are you inviting me into your tent, Commander?" She asked with a smile.

"No, I" he sighed after his quick retort, "no, I-I just, that is, I mean-" his feet flicking at his unease.

Uthreida chuckled at his proprieties. "Speaking from experience, it's usually best not to exert all of your strength prior to a massive battle."

He groaned in appreciation again as her hands ran up his spine. "Exactly."

"Use the anger and frustration. Focus it on your enemies." He grunted again as she worked a knot from his shoulder.

He licked his lips as he looked on. "If you want, ah" he flicked a hand into the abyss, "it'll, Umm. It's alright. If you want, that is. I won't, ah-"his hand fisted as it dangled off the side of the cot.

She looked down at him, unsure if he was asking for him, or to silence the rumors of their separate sleeping arrangements. "It'll come out in the cold water."

"What does that mean?"

"Means things must run their own course. It'll all lead back to the ocean. Give it time." He clenched his jaw but let it go. She found herself working around the burn. "What happened?" She asked softly.

"Fireball." He moaned. "Burned through the skirts and belting."

She moved higher to his shoulders. "Given the Templar plate, I assume the rest are from training?" He made n sound to agree but was lost in his relaxed exhale.

The tent opened and Uthreida looked to see Cassandra look at the scene with wide eyes. Behind her was Rylen with a goofy smile. "Never thought I'd see this." He called from behind her. Cassandra rolled her eyes and entered. Cullen pushed himself off the cot, taking Uthreida with him. Quickly seeing what he was doing, and losing her balance, she got off. "Is this the line, cause" Rylen had a hand to his paludron to start working on his buckles. Cassandra closed the curtain and watched as Cullen stood. Uthreida kept her gaze adverted as she walked to the other side of the cot.

She looked at Cassandra who was watching Cullen with an unamused expression. "Commander, Grey Warden Loghain would like to go over strategy and tactics to verify numbers for the siege equipment."

Cullen grunted as he put his shirt back on. "Again?"

"The man is insistent."

He ran a hand through his hair. "We just had a three-hour meeting-"

"Four hours." Uthreida corrected, knowing she had to sit in on it.

"That he was present for." He sighed. "I suppose I should be thankful to have his insight." There was an annoyance in his tone that made Uthreida smirk.

"I'm sure whatever this was, can wait," Cassandra stated quickly. "Are you ready?"

Cullen's eyes flicked to her and she got the feeling there was something he wanted to say. But his position prevented. Cullen took a breath and nodded. He waved a hand to the tent door for them to exit. He stooped low and collected a book from the ground. Cassandra exited as he stepped towards Uthreida and handed the book off unceremoniously. "Here."

"What is it?"

"A book."

She shot him an annoyed look. "No." She said with dramatic flair. "Book? What?!"

His hardened gaze at her theatrics softened when he smirked. "A journal. Yours was getting a bit full."

"Oh." She looked at the pressed purple leather with a flower design over the cover. "Thank you." She offered a smile and he lowered his eyes. "What kind of leather is this?"

"Nug." He stated a brow and a smirk.

"What's a nug?"

"Uh" he rubbed his neck. "It's like a mix between a hairless rabbit and, um" he looked away. "Hands." She made a face of confusion that he smiled at. A mental image came of a severed hand with bunny ears. "You've had nug before."

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. "Ha?"

"Yes. Several dinners at Skyhold had nug."

The bile rose in her throat and she tried not to vomit. Her gag reflex activated that she had mystery meat. Of hands. "It's like finding out you had skeever or dog when you thought it was goat." She gagged again and covered her mouth.

Cullen laughed and shook his head. "You're being dramatic. You're fine."

"Still" she held a hand to her chest to keep her dinner down. "I don't even know what it looks like."

He gave a sigh and crossed his arms. "I'm sure we can find one on our way back to Skyhold. Calm down." She stuck out her tongue to rid the taste she didn't know. She looked at him with a face to match. He rolled his eyes but still smiled.

His eyes grew softer as if looking at her for the first time. She noticed the sweat-induced curls of his hair, the softness of his lips, how golden his eyes are in candlelight, his thickening beard, and that his cheeks have filled out since last she saw him. Healthier. He stepped into her space. His eyes dropping to her hands that held the journal. He licked his scar. Gentle fingers caressing hers. He knelt down slightly, cutting his eyes to hers then her lips several times to ask permission. Her lungs naturally filled with his scent of sweat, armor polish, but the hint of oakmoss. She found herself leaning in. Wanting. Her head tilted back to meet him.

"Commander." Cassandra called from outside.

Uthreida closed her eyes and looked down. A blushing smile crossing her face. "Horrible timing."

"Impeccable as usual." Cullen cleared his throat quickly and rubbed his neck. She smiled as she met his gaze. He's thought about it. Or he's dragging her along. "It's late, I'll, let you sleep."

"Aye."

She watched him go, Rylen stood there with a smile at the Commander who held up a single hand to stop him from speaking. Rylen offered a wink. "I'm next, right?"

Uthreida chuckled at the Captain as she slid the flap closed. Her heart beating wildly in her chest. She took a deep breath to calm herself. That almost happened. Again.

She tapped the book as if to remind herself she had it. She flipped through the cover page and found a blank page. She flipped through and stopped at the gapping of the pages. Three small purple flowers were pressed in the book. It was a flower she had never seen before. She looked at the tent flap, knowing Cullen was gone. She lowered a brow and kept flipping. A sprig of pressed lavender. She kept going. The next was four small purple six-petaled flowers pressed in the book. Their juices making a beautiful murder scene. She flipped again. Thistle in the middle of the book.

Purple flowers. She smiled as she looked at the large flower. He collected purple, high-altitude flowers. Commander Cullen collected purple Mountain flowers. For her.

She bit back the desire to scream as she smiled at the tent flap that he exited hastily. She bit her lip as she looked at the book. She kept flipping and found four more different kinds of flowers she didn't know. All of a purple hue.

Commander Cullen collected flowers. The idea that he either jumped off his horse during movement just to pluck and got back on his horse or found a random Soldier, 'hey you, pick me that flower' made her smile. Or he bought them. Either way, this is the most romantic gesture she's ever seen. When did he learn about purple mountain flowers? She would have to have said something. They're only native to Skyrim and part of their courtship process.

Commander Cullen picked her flowers. Of different varieties. Because purple mountain flower is vague and he had no idea what he was looking for. She bit her tongue as she held the book to her chest in excitement. It took every ounce of self-control to not jump repeatedly or show Cassandra. By Dibella, Cullen picked flowers! For her! She smiled as she looked at the book and held it to her chest again. How can she use this to get the most private embarrassment out of him?