Shannon sighed as apothecary Adan pressed the cotton pad to yet another small incision on her forearm.

"I hope this will be the last one," she told him, somewhat irritably. "I've already got one terribly scarred arm and I'd rather not have another."

Adan rolled his eyes at her. "If you want I can just stop checking for red lyrium traces and just wait until you turn into one of those monstrosities. Would you like that?"

"Don't be absurd!" She retorted. "There's no evidence that I'll be turning into anything except a woman with a bad case of anaemia."

The apothecary shook his head, but otherwise ignored her protestations. "If you're that concerned about appearances, just go and see a mage healer."

Shannon scowled. She hadn't intended for her complaint to come across as a matter of vanity but there it was.

'Yes, how terribly conceited of me. Heaven forbid I wouldn't want to have to look at two scarred appendages each time I look down. How could I possibly be so shallow?'

Still, the idea was a good one. She ought to have someone take a look at her shoulder anyway. Her scuffle with Cullen had awakened an old injury that still hadn't settled and she'd been meaning to have it seen to for what seemed like years at this stage. She waited for Adan to finish in silence. Once the apothecary was satisfied that there was still no trace of red lyrium in the extracted vial of blood, he released her from his custody.

On her way to the mage tower, Shannon spent some time absorbed in contemplation. She could remember so little from the days since she'd returned to Skyhold and what she could remember didn't make much sense. She understood had stopped taking her daily lyrium ration, but the reasons why were a mystery. The people fussing around her didn't help either; Adan and his endless need for blood; the persistent odd looks she got from people as she moved around the fort (as if she were about to suddenly sprout red crystals from her back and go on some insane rampage); worst of all was Cullen. If she thought he'd been overbearing in the past, that was nothing compared to his current state of almost fanatic devotion to her well-being. She could barely turn her head without spotting him, staring, with his arms folded, and a pitiable look of concern on his face.

She was willing to concede that some concern was justified. Although her memory of the experience was lacking, it was pretty clear that her health had declined rapidly upon returning to Skyhold. A lingering weariness, nausea and mental fugue were testament to that. However, she was also sure that she was getting better very quickly. The first day had been rough - she'd been unable to get out of bed for most of the day and had vomited up a concerning quantity of red matter. Adan had been fascinated by this unpleasant expulsion and had actually requested some samples. He'd later enthusiastically exclaimed it contained a small quantity of red lyrium but Shannon was unable to summon the same exuberance about this discovery, which she found to be revolting rather than of an academic interest. At first, there had been some concern that she'd managed to somehow ingest the red lyrium until Cole had been consulted and assured all the interested parties that it was an impossibility. Their current speculations lead to the idea that she might have breathed in some of the pulverised crystals during the final battle in Valammar. The Carta enforcer had managed to shatter a crate with his mace, and a wayward fireball from the mage they'd fought had ensured the destruction of others in her direct presence.

Needless to say, orders had been swiftly drafted to all units in the field to be particularly careful when encountering raw red lyrium - templars especially. Obviously the Inquisition's researchers couldn't relay any precise information about potential dangers but they were working on it. They had a test subject now after all.

Worst of all was a deep feeling of melancholy that Shannon was unable to shake. It was hard not to get overwhelmed by the futility of everything. All this concern and worrying, testing and precautions... What was the point? The key members of the Inquisition's leadership were well and committed to their goals. What difference did one insignificant templar make? One who really shouldn't even be where she was in the first place! This notion had been growing for some time now. While it could be said that she had been of some use to Cullen and maybe even Josephine at one point, neither of them needed her anymore. The sad fact of the matter though, was that she really had nowhere else to go. Like it or not, she needed lyrium and she had no clue how to acquire it outside of the Inquisition.

'I'm just as trapped here as I was in the Order,' she thought to herself, sadly.

Suddenly deciding against a visit to the healers, she turned around and instead set off to the Chantry.

Skhold's chantry wasn't particularly impressive - a single room along the side of the great hall and a surprisingly small one at that. Despite its shortcomings, the atmosphere was one of tranquillity and the sunlight streaming in through the tiny windows gave the place an appropriately divine feel.

Shannon stared at the statue of Andraste before her and felt overcome with a feeling of shame. 'She went through so much hardship and I can't even pull myself through a few months of difficulty without breaking down?' She found herself unconsciously sliding to the ground, fully aware that she should really be kneeling in reverence, but she felt so tired, so worn. Instead, she sat with her back to the wall, lowered her head and tried to clear her mind.

A sudden voice at her side broke the silence. "Hello."

Shannon turned to find herself looking up into the face of Leliana. She hadn't seen the woman since their last council meeting and that was before they'd set out to Valammar. When Shannon rose to stand, the Spymistress waved her away with a warm smile.

"Don't get up. May I join you?"

"Of course," Shannon replied. "If you don't mind sitting on the floor."

"Not at all." Leliana adjusted her chain skirts and lowered herself to the floor. They sat together in silence for some time before Leliana turned and spoke. "You seem unhappy," she said kindly.

"I am. I think I've lost my faith," Shannon confessed.

Leliana nodded slowly. "Ah. A lamentable state for a templar, but not one of which I am unfamiliar."

Shannon looked at her in surprise. "You have doubted your faith to the Maker?"

"At times."

"How did you overcome it?"

Leliana looked at her curiously and raised an eyebrow. "I understand you had a vision during your sickness in Haven?"

"I did... At least I thought I did. Nobody ever really believed me, though. They just thought it was a delusion borne from lyrium withdrawal and humoured me. I'm not sure if I even believe myself anymore." Shannon closed her eyes and released a weary sigh.

Leliana brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "Would it surprise you to learn that I was also granted a vision at one point in my life?"

"Really?! When?"

"A long time ago." Leliana smiled. "The Maker showed me that it was my destiny to find the Hero of Ferelden and join the fight against the blight."

Shannon stared at the woman in rapt fascination. "That's incredible! You saved Ferelden - maybe even the whole world! And the Maker showed you that in a vision?"

"Not entirely," Leliana shook her head before resting her chin on the back of her hand. "I did not see the outcome, I was just given the knowledge that I had to find him; that I had a part to play somehow."

Shannon found herself almost on the brink of tears. "That really is the most amazing thing I've ever heard. How did you have a crisis of faith after experiencing something so wonderful?"

"I came to understand that it was not my faith in the Maker that was shaken, it was my faith in the Chantry and the part I played as the Hand of the Divine. I have come to realise that they are two very different things." She stared at the ground with a remorseful expression on her face. "Would you accept some advice, Lieutenant?"

"Gladly."

"Do not allow your disappointment in one tarnish your trust in the other."

Shannon smiled. "Thank-you." Leliana nodded and lowered her head. "Can I ask you a question?" Shannon asked, a little nervously.

"Go ahead."

"The Hero of Ferelden... What was he like?"

Leliana smiled. "He was a lot of fun, although somewhat grumpy and often terse. He had a sad life, in Orzammar I mean, before the blight and the wardens."

"Did he believe in your vision?"

"No, but he respected it, if that makes sense. He trusted me and in turn I trusted him."

The door abruptly swung open, interrupting their conversation, and Shannon was irritated to see Cullen standing in the doorway doing a poor job of hiding his embarrassment. She shot him a glare.

"Sorry," he said, awkwardly. "I didn't mean to interrupt." He quickly retreated and Shannon was unable to suppress an exasperated sigh. As she turned she noticed that Leliana was looking at her with a wry smile on her face.

"You shouldn't be too hard on him, Lieutenant," the woman said. "He's not particularly adept at expressing his feelings."

"It's not the feelings that bother me, I understand he's been through a lot. It's just... I don't know... He's so overprotective. It's ridiculous."

Leliana laughed softly. "It's the same thing."

"Did you know him before?" Shannon asked. "At the Ferelden Circle I mean."

She closed her eyes and her face took upon a pained expression. "Yes," she said quietly. "I met him there."

"It was bad wasn't it, the things that happened to him? He's told me a little, in the past, but I know there is so much more he doesn't say."

Leliana nodded slowly. "When we found him, he was... Almost broken. He had suffered many abuses. I fear he would have certainly perished if we had not arrived when we did."

Shannon buried her face in her hands before releasing a long, drawn-out sigh. "And yet I complain about the few hardships I've endured." She looked up at the ceiling contemplatively. "I should apologise."

"They are not the same," Leliana assured her. "They are different traumas to bear. However, I'm sure he would appreciate a little kindness." She gave her a smile.

Shannon gazed up at the ceiling. Somehow she was actually feeling more at peace, as if she had been relieved of a great burden, after just a few honestly expressed words. 'I should talk to people,' she suddenly realised. 'I can't solve every problem alone. I should ask for help.'

"Thank-you Leliana. I can't express how much you've assisted me today. I came here in the vain hope of finding guidance, but honestly, I didn't expect that to actually occur. Yet it has and I truly appreciate you taking the time to speak with me."

She got to her feet and headed to the door before turning and giving the woman a polite bow. Leliana returned the gesture and closed her eyes. Shannon left the woman to her devotions under the watchful gaze of Blessed Andraste.

Upon exiting the room, Shannon was in no way surprised to find Cullen lurking in the passage outside. He quickly turned away and attempted to hide his presence in a dim corner - a futile endeavour for a man outfitted in heavy armour and a lion-fur mantle.

She paused outside the door before coughing dramatically and beginning a deliberately overly-loud soliloquy:

"It really is a shame that Cullen is not around," she exclaimed, theatrically. "I was about to apologise for being exceptionally rude just now, but if he's not here I won't bother."

She was pleased when he slowly turned with a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I shouldn't have glared at you in such a way. It was uncalled for."

He shook his head dismissively and waved a hand at her. "It's fine. I know I've been somewhat overbearing lately."

"I understand and I'm flattered that you care. Truly."

He smiled shyly and she saw him flush with colour. She found herself smiling back and felt a strange fluttering in her chest, a subtle little shimmer of something. She flinched and suppressed the feeling immediately.

He regarded her, slightly puzzled. "Are you okay?"

"Yes of course."

'I think so...'

He shifted awkwardly and reached for the tension spot at the back of his neck. "Are you busy? Now, I mean."

"A little," she replied, with a wry smile. "I'm talking to you in a corridor."

He looked around, as if that claim somehow needed to be verified, before launching into a lengthy and somewhat incomprehensible rambling. "I mean... Do you want to go somewhere, to eat or drink maybe? I want to apologise for a few things and that way would be better, over dinner I mean. Not in a formal sense, of course. Unless you don't want to... Not that I'm suggesting you wouldn't want to eat. Maybe you don't if you're still unwell." He paused and glanced around again before giving her a look of almost comical perturbation. "Are you feeling okay?"

Shannon stared at him in bewilderment. "I am okay. Are you?"

He covered his eyes with a shaky hand and sighed. "Yes! I... Maker, what is wrong with me?"

She shook her head slowly and bit her lip. "I'm not sure, Cullen, but if I managed to translate that disordered array of words correctly, it seemed like you were trying to ask me if I wanted to get some dinner?

"I was, yes."

"I do."

Shannon dropped a log onto the fire in he quarters and prodded it into place with the poker. Satisfied that the room would be adequately heated, she brushed the dust from her hands and surveyed the area. Noticing a stray robe over the back of the chair she quickly retrieved it and hung it in the wardrobe. Next, she spotted a disordered stack of papers on the desk and moved to tidy them away. Part-way through the task, she abruptly stopped herself.

'What am I doing? He's been in here countless times in all sorts of states of disorder. And I'm not entertaining the Queen of Ferelden - he's my friend!'

She stepped back, in confusion. Cullen had insisted on procuring their dinner while Shannon had opted to wait for him in her quarters. Why she had suddenly felt the urge to fuss over what was already a relatively tidy space came as a bit of an enigma. She sat down on the bed and furrowed her brows.

A tap on the door commanded her attention and Cullen swiftly entered bearing a food board and a bottle. He gave her a smile before placing the items on the desk.

"I hope you don't mind that I shed my armour," he said, a little sheepishly.

"Why would I?"

He shrugged. "I don't know... People react strangely if I walk around this blasted place dressed in normal clothes. It's like I'm an anomaly."

Shannon laughed. "To be fair, it is a bit. I've known you for a long time now and I can count on one hand how many times I've seen you unarmoured." To her surprise, he looked strangely embarrassed by that statement. She eyed the food board and swiftly changed the subject. "What did you bring?"

"Oh!" He replied, quickly composing himself. He pointed to the items on the board in turn: "Highever goat cheese, figs, grapes and rabbit pie. Also some spice bread," he added.

"That's quite the exotic assortment! How did you manage to find all that?"

"I raided the stores they keep for when nobles and other such dignitaries visit. You can get away with it as the Commander." He gave her a wide smile and handed her the bottle. "Also, this is for you. Elderflower wine. I'm sorry I drank that bottle Rylen picked up in here, before... When I wasn't myself. I hope this is an adequate substitute. What was that anyway?"

"Oh, that? Don't worry about it. That bottle was a gift from Lord Something-or-other. I acquired it after one of those embassy meetings. It's a drink from the Anderfels I think - juniper berries and some kind of tree resin. I was actually quite impressed that you drank the whole bottle. I tried a bit myself and it was dreadful."

Shannon busied herself fetching cups and pouring drinks while Cullen hovered awkwardly in a corner. She paused and turned to him, "You can sit down, you know."

"Right." He crossed the room rapidly and perched himself on the edge of the bed with a nervous expression on his face.

Shannon handed him a cup of wine. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem awfully uncomfortable all of a sudden."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm just nervous." He took a large gulp of the wine and averted his eyes. "I need to apologise," he said quietly.

"Cullen you don't-"

"Please. I need to. It's important."

Resigned, she sat down beside him and waited in silence for him to continue. He rummaged around in a pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. After unfolding it she watched him take three composing breaths before he started to speak.

"Number one, I-"

"You made a list?" Shannon interjected. She hadn't meant to interrupt, but the fact that he'd composed some kind of apology list seemed faintly ludicrous. He looked back at her with a pained expression on his face and she immediately felt ashamed at her reaction. 'Sorry."

"Number one," he continued. "I should never have given you that terrible assignment at Adamant. I neglected to keep myself informed about your training and I failed to recognise an asset. You're a good templar Shannon and what I did was not only a terrible order, it was unnecessarily demoralising."

Shannon unexpectedly found herself suppressing shame. 'Am I a good templar?' She thought. If one really considered the point, it didn't seem likely. Would a good templar take combat lessons from a spirit, disobey orders or turn their back on the Chantry? She pushed the thought aside, Cullen was staring at her with a hopeful expression on his face, obviously in anticipation of some feedback to this confession.

"It's fine," she told him. "It's past now. And while we are discussing the matter, I'm also sorry for disobeying that 'terrible order' and taking off with Cole."

"Thank-you, Shannon," he said, "I appreciate that. May I go on?" She nodded in acquiescence. "Number two; I was wrong to yell at you about Cole. You were right - he is a good person and certainly not a demon. He's helped me so much lately and I would never have considered sharing my experiences with him without your urging."

Shannon gave him a dismissive wave of the hand and smiled. "Do you mind if I eat while you talk?" She asked, slowly edging a hopeful hand towards the figs.

"Please do."

She picked up a fig and tilted her head to signify that she was ready to listen.

"Number three; what I did to you in this very room was unforgivable. There's no excuse and I'm not even expecting you to accept this apology. I just need you to know that I am deeply sorry." He closed his eyes and lowered his head.

"It's okay, you were hurting."

He shook his head in frustration. "No, it's not. There's no justification for what occurred. I lost control of myself and I almost did something truly monstrous. It is not forgivable. I just need you to know that it will never happen again. Ever."

"I know, Cullen. I trust you."

He nodded slowly. "Thank-you." He released an aching sigh before raising the piece of paper and continuing through the list. "Number four; I'm sorry for criticising your mental stability. I've said some terribly unfair things in relation to that matter - not only to you, but to other people. Any concerns I might once have been justified in having are completely unfounded. I was just projecting my own issues onto you. I made my problems your problems and for that, I'm truly sorry."

Shannon was about to take a bite of the fig she'd picked up when he started this particular apology, but his words came as such a surprise to her that she paused, the piece of fruit hovering before her open mouth.

'Did he just say...? He did!."

"Thank you so much!" She gushed. Her eyes began to unexpectedly fill with tears and she had to suppress hard to keep herself from crying. "That means so much to me and I truly accept your apology."

He smiled, relief spreading across his face.

Shannon sighed. A new lightness had begun to creep through her, a sense of complete relief that was almost palpable. "Is that everything? I want to eat."

He nodded. "Yes. Eat your fig."

Shannon lay on her back on her bed and released a contented sigh. She was pleasantly drunk.

She looked up at her friend and felt the same odd fluttering in her chest that she'd experienced before. It was a strange thing, but not something that required immediate attention - that wouldn't be possible anyway right now. While she wasn't sufficiently drunk to be slurring her words or stumbling around, her mental... 'Factualities..? Ferocities...? Faculties..? Yes, those!' They were somewhat lacking right now. Due to the wine of course; the first bottle then the second one Cullen had gone to fetch at some point. Was that all? She wasn't sure. It really didn't matter, though.

She was happy.

Cullen noticed her studying him and gave her a grin. "What?"

"Nothing! I'm just happy that we're friends again," she replied.

"We never weren't friends, Shannon. I just... I make it difficult because I'm always burdening you with my personal problems."

"It's okay, that's what friends should do for one another."

"Not to their detriment, though." He averted his eyes and acquired a solemn expression.

Shannon's heart ached in response. 'Don't be sad, you wonderful man,' she thought to herself affectionately. He needed some reassurance and probably a hug. Or she needed a hug. Maybe they both did. "It's not like that," she told him. "Really, I'm the one that should talk to you more. Properly I mean, not just bickering. I realised earlier today that I can't solve all my issues alone. I need help sometimes... A lot of the time... And I never talk."

"I'm here," he replied. "I'm sure I've told you that before."

"I know, but I never listen. As you're fully aware."

He laughed and the same strange fluttering in her chest from earlier returned, but this time accompanied with a rapid increase to her pulse.

'What in the fade..?'

'You're attracted to him.'

'Am I? No, I'm not, that's ridiculous!'

'You are. Look at him, he's stunning.'

'Sweet Andraste! That's common knowledge. People make jokes about it.'

'Of course but now you've noticed. Really noticed.'

'Have I?'

"Shannon..." Cullen interrupted this thoroughly disconcerting realisation "What's wrong, Is my hair a mess?" He ran his fingers through it self-consciously.

'You're staring at him you daft woman,'

"Sorry," she replied, forcing an awkward laugh. "I think I'm getting into drunken debates with myself. Silly isn't it?"

"Not really. I seem to be in a constant state of disagreement with myself. It's rather frustrating and doesn't even require the ingestion of alcohol."

A sudden rapping at the door caused the pair of them to jump. This was immediately followed by a voice from the other side.

"Shannon? It's Rylen. Have you got Cullen in there with you, lass?"

The man in question stared up at the ceiling and groaned. "Maker's breath! It never ends!"

"Come in!" She called.

Rylen opened the door and poked his head through the gap. "Sorry to interrupt but the Council are wanting you for some emergency meeting."

"Now? At this time of night?"

"Sorry, mate. It's about Halamshiral."

Cullen rolled his eyes and released an exaggerated sigh. "What's going on at Halamshiral?"

"You are. Looks like Empress Celine had changed the date of the ball."

"Can she do that?" Shannon asked, with some surprise.

The Captain gave her a wry smile. "She's the Empress of Orlais, lass. She can do whatever she wants. I assume there's a good reason, though."

Cullen pulled himself to his feet (a little unsteadily, Shannon observed) and stomped to the door. "Well I hope they're not expecting coherence because I'm already drunk."

Rylen laughed. "Should make it more fun."