Where Heroes Meet
Even after Haven had just been buried by the mountains, the smoke and echoes of their screams still hung in the air. Those who were able to survive the Elder One's assault managed to follow Chancellor Roderick's path out of the Chantry and found themselves in a hidden valley between the mountains, well away from the Red Templars. Despite surviving such terrible odds, the truth of their situation crippled their spirits. Their most righteous victory turned into the devastating defeat possible. Defeat at the hands of the ultimate evil.
Cassandra and some of Leliana's agents stayed behind long enough to see and hear what transpired between The Elder One and The Herald. Word had already spread throughout the whole Inquisition. The Herald of Andraste had been defeated by one of the Magisters of Old who assaulted the Seat of The Maker, and started the Blights. Their mission just became more hopeless. They were no longer looking into some cult of crazed Tevinters who destroyed the Conclave to make a statement, they were now facing the embodiment of everything evil and destructive.
Cassandra sat away by herself as he fellows tended to their own. She remembered Varric telling her the story of how he and Hawke journeyed to that Grey Warden prison in the Vimmark Mountains. About how a group of insane Carta members that drank darkspawn blood wanted to use Hawke's blood to free their imprisoned master, who made them offers of power through their taint. How Hawke stood against this vile creature and slew it in the heart of its own prison after a thousand years, even when the Wardens were unable to slay it. Given Varric's proven and self-proclaimed reputation as a liar, Cassandra always took the dwarf's word with a pinch of salt, and always never believing half of what he said.
As the Seeker sat alone, she couldn't help but think about how she abandoned Rajmael. She had appointed herself to protect him, and she failed, just like she failed Divine Justinia. The whole state of the world reflected her failure. Cassandra remembered how Rajmael stood strong against everything that was against him. First against her when she wanted to execute him as a criminal, then again in that horrible future where the whole world was polluted by demons, and that final time when he stood his ground against Corypheus. Not once did he back down, he never accepted anything less than what he could give. Cassandra wished she had Rajmael's strength.
Surprised yelling erupted in the camp as the survivors made a path for something charging through them. It was Rajmael's halla, Neirin. The white stag-creature shocked Cassandra as it stopped in front of her, stamping its hooves and snorting at her.
"What?! What is this?" Cassandra asked incredulously. Neirin gently, but frantically, nipped at her as though he was trying to pull her somewhere. "Are you…trying to show me something?" Neirin stomped his hooves in confirmation and trotted off towards the forest, urging her to follow him. Cassandra signaled Cullen and Leliana to follow her as they trailed after the halla.
Neirin led them to a meadow within one of the passes that didn't have the protection of the mountainside and was suffering from the snowstorm. The wolves were emerging from the tree forest, but Neirin didn't seem to care, he just ran further into valley, completely ignoring the danger. Cassandra and the others had to scare the wolves off with their torches, but she managed to catch up with Neirin.
Cassandra's heart leapt into her throat when she saw Neirin standing over Rajmael. He was laying down in the snow, and she could feel that the mana in his veins was almost depleted. Rajmael reached out to her even though he looked like he was about to blackout.
"My goddess comes." He whispered happily.
Cassandra felt seven shades of crimson burn over her face but ignored it, she had to get Rajmael to a healer. Surely he must be hallucinating. Cassandra and Cullen slung Rajmael over Neirin's side and got him back to their camp.
~XoXoXo~
Rajmael had half-hoped that he'd woken up in the Beyond to be greeted by one of his gods, and spend the rest of eternity living out the truth of elvhen glory with his ancestors. Imagine his disappointment to only wake up to the delightful sound of his Council Members arguing amongst themselves in a makeshift camp somewhere in the Frostback Mountain's ass-crack.
Apparently, they couldn't come to an agreement about The Inquisition's next move. With their morale broken, many of their soldiers and laborers wanted to leave, and Cullen couldn't blame them. Cassandra on the other hand, wanted them to stand by their vows and continue on.
"And what would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!" Cullen yelled.
"We cannot simply ignore this!" Cassandra argued. "We must find a way!"
"And who put you in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!" Cullen disputed.
"Please! We must use reason." Josephine insisted. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition we are hobbled."
"Well, it can't come from nowhere!" Cullen continued.
"She didn't say it could!" Leliana interjected.
"Enough!" Cassandra screamed, bringing everyone to silence. "This argument gets us nowhere."
"Well, we're agreed on that much!" Cullen finished.
They all walked away with depression and anger heavy in their hearts. Suddenly being dead didn't seem so bad to Rajmael. At least then he wouldn't be suffering such a headache right now, or have to deal with a pain in the ass like Corypheus is probably going to be. Despite how much pain he was in, Rajmael decided it was time to get up before things started coming to blows.
"Shhh. You must rest." Mother Giselle gently bade.
"They've been going at it for hours." Rajmael observed.
"They have that luxury, thanks to you. The enemy could not follow, and with time to doubt, they turn to blame. Infighting may threaten us as much as this Corypheus." The Chantry Mother said with deep sadness in her voice.
"Where are we?" Rajmael groaned. "What happened to Corypheus and his army?"
"We do not know where we are, which may be as much of a blessing as it is a threat to us, as he may not believe us worth following. Or that with the belief that you are dead, he thinks us helpless. Or perhaps he is merely readying for another attack."
Rajmael slowly lifted himself up, feeling every muscle in his body scream in agony at him. "Standing around in the wilderness doesn't help us, it only makes us a target."
"They know that, but our situation—your situation—is complicated. Our leaders argue because of what we survivors saw. We witnessed our defenders stand against our enemy…and fall." Giselle looked at Rajmael with resolve in her eyes. "And then we witnessed your return. The more the enemy seems beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more our trials seem ordained." Rajmael finally sat himself up. "That is hard to accept, no? What 'we' have been called to endure? What 'we', perhaps, must be called to believe."
"You humans really believe in anything that has your god's label on it, don't you?" Rajmael asked wryly. "I fell into a hole and escaped the avalanche, but I didn't die. Though, right now I wish I did."
"Of course, and it's impossible for the dead to return from beyond the Veil. Still, the people know what they have witnessed. Or, perhaps, what they needed to see. The Maker works both in the moment, and how it is remembered. Can we truly know the heavens are not with us?"
Rajmael's mind raced back to what he saw in Corypheus and what he told him. It completely changed everything they knew about history. "You heard what Corypheus said? If he is one of the Magisters who started the Blight, it completely overturns everything you say about your Maker, your faith."
"Even if a shred of it is true, it all the more proof that Andraste has chosen you to stand against him."
"He said that he found only corruption and chaos." Rajmael informed sourly. "Nothing Golden. Looks like your Maker wasn't fond of house cleaning."
"If he entered that place, it has changed him from without and within. The living are not meant to make such a journey." Mother Giselle answered calmly, her demeanor unchanged. "Perhaps these are lies that he must tell himself because he cannot accept the fact that he earned the Maker's scorn. I know I could not bear something so horrible."
"I get my ass kicked and hear what sounds like truth from the mouth of evil, and from you, all I hear is excuses for your god's fuck-up." Rajmael stated bitterly. "It seems all your god has ever given this world is pain, suffering, and death. What good does your faith do me, or anyone else, now?!"
Rajmael stood up from the cot and approached the advisors hoping to see if he could assist but then he realized he didn't have any hope to give. He was just as lost as they were, if not more so.
Shadows Fall and hope has fled.
Steel your heart, the dawn will come.
Sang Mother Giselle in a strong and comforting voice that resonated through the mountains. She approached the center of the camp and all eyes turned to her and in that moment all the refugees of Haven, mage and none mage, faithful and unfaithful put their woes and despair aside.
Look to the sky, for one day soon
The dawn will come
The Shepard's lost and his home is far keep to the stars,
The dawn will come
The night is long and the path is dark look to the sky for one day soon
The dawn will come
And now Leliana and Cullen joined their sweet and strong voices to the Chantry Mother's and all of the people that encompassed the Inquisition joined into the center of the camp and sang this song together. No doubt it could be heard all throughout the mountains for Fereldan and Orlais to hear. Rajmael thought their attention was situated on Mother Giselle but then he realized that they were all staring at him, no they were singing to him.
Bare your blade and raise it high
Stand your ground, the dawn will come
The night is long and the path is dark
Look to the sky for one day soon
The dawn will come
Now with the song ended all of these people were kneeling before him. Him. A Dalish heathen that cared nothing for their god, yet they looked at him not with exultance or religious favor, but with hope. They all placed their hopes on him.
"It's not faith in any deity or religious dictum that brought us all here." Mother Giselle explained to Rajmael. "I do not ask you to have faith in the Chantry or the Maker, but please, have faith in us as we have faith in you."
Everyone gathered to cheer for their returned savior, and Rajmael could feel their renewed morale resonating through the camp, but he remained as silent as stone. Rajmael could feel Solas' presence as he approached him with a sense of urgency in his step.
"Lethallin, I must speak with you." Solas requested.
The two elven mages walked away from the camp towards the edge of a mountain gorge where Solas lit a veilfire torch. Solas was standing with more seriousness than was normal for him, but given what had just transpired in the last few hours, Rajmael was not surprised.
"Mother Giselle speaks wisely, lethallin. Her faith is well placed." Solas started. "The humans have not raised one of our own for ages beyond memory."
"I can recall a few." Rajmael stated as he remembered Garahel, the elven Warden who defeated the Fourth Blight, last of the Griffon Riders. "Human memories are fickle, and quick to forget for favor of their own prejudices."
"True. And what I'm about to tell you will not win our kind any favors." Solas stated grimly. "The Orb Corypheus carries, the one he used to open the Breach. Unlocking its power must be what caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. And it is Elvhen."
That bit of revelation hit Rajmael like a club. "An elven artifact? Are you certain of this, hahren?"
"Without a doubt." Solas answered. "The orbs were foci, meant to channel energy from our gods. Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon. I saw these object in the faintest of memories within the Fade, whispers and echoes of a dead empire, long before the fall of Arlathan. I never would have suspected a Tevinter Magister to be able to wield such a powerful object. But the Tevinter Imperium was built on the bones of our shattered people."
"And which of our gods could this orb have been dedicated to that it could cause such devastation?"
A faint but sour grimace appeared around the corners of Solas' mouth. "That…is unimportant. What is important is that the orb is elven. And with it, our enemy threatens the heart of human faith."
Rajmael knew all too well how fickle, pretentious and presumptuous humans are as a whole. This could turn very badly for elves everywhere. Already his own clan was experiencing difficulty back in the Free Marches with bandits attacking them outside of Wycome. He had sent their soldiers to deal with it, but he knew that wasn't the end of Clan Lavellan's troubles. "Even if we defeat Corypheus, the humans will find a way to blame the elves, I suspect they'll even go as far as to say that we aided him."
"And I suspect that you are correct." Solas confirmed. "To be seen as allies we must be seen as above reproach."
"Four hundred years ago, Garahel, an elf from the Free Marches, slew Andoral at Ayesleigh, so many darkspawn were slain under his command that everyone thought the darkspawn were gone for good. And after that, nobody gave two shits about the elves, nothing changed." Rajmael reminded grimly.
"Human memories are always quick to forget so that they may continue with their own illusions, I know." Solas confirmed. "But this Inquisition is shaping around you, and perhaps you can lead them to a path that will help our people. These people are now looking to you, you must show them the way."
"What do you have in mind, harhen?"
"By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. Changed you. Scout to the north, be their guide." Solas instructed. "There is a place where the Inquisition can build…grow."
"And just what am I looking for, Solas?" Rajmael asked both confused and eagerly.
"You'll know it when you see it." Solas answered. "You should be able to find it within two days. It is known as Skyhold."
Three Days Later….
At last, their pilgrimage was at an end. After two days of wandering the forests and mountains with renewed hope they found it. Skyhold. A mighty fortress built atop of a great cliff. Rajmael led all the people to the great keep as if he knew where it was, but one thought just popped into his mind after seeing such a powerful building; what the hell is something as mighty as this just sitting in the middle of the mountains?
When they all saw it everybody took a moment to look upon it in awe. According to Solas the place had been deserted for almost four centuries, yet Rajmael was amazed that this keep was still so strong even in its state of disrepair. This castle was unlike any they had seen before. Redcliffe castle seemed like a modest holdfast in comparison. It sat on a high lofty crag and the only way to get its main gate was to cross a long stone bridge that's entrance was guarded by a tall and strong battle tower. Guarding the main keep and courtyard was an incredibly tall and near impregnable wall that curtained around the main keep, and was set with powerful battlements on all sides.
And the main keep itself was mighty sight to behold. Rajmael had never seen castles before, and Redcliffe Castle was the first, but only ever saw it from afar, and when he was inside it he didn't have time to enjoy its vast splendors. He had no idea humans were capable of building such powerful strongholds, if it was indeed built by humans. Tall stairs lead to the main hall which was in disrepair with its roof fallen through, but the walls showed very little of erosion. Rajmael was further surprised was how green and fertile the courtyard was on top of a great stone mountain in the middle of a wide gorge no less. The great powerful walls must have acted as barriers that kept wind and the cold, but Rajmael could feel the glimmer of magic within the fortress itself, which was perhaps why it was so warm and fertile hear.
With all these people just pouring into Skyhold it wasn't going to in such a state for long. Not only were the refugees of Haven swelling the courtyards but also pilgrims who wanted to pledge themselves to Andraste's Herald, and volunteers from Fereldan and Orlais who wanted to fight and serve the Inquisition since it was the only institute that seemed to be fixing the world's problems.
As Rajmael walked through the lower courtyard at the entrance of Skyhold, he observed the multitude of people making their way through the gate and setting up within the stronghold. Amongst the growing number of people, he noticed Cassandra and his other counselors talking amongst themselves, but rather than arguing as they had been for days, it seemed they reached some kind of consensus. As Rajmael approached them, they broke off from their little meeting and left Cassandra to address him.
"They arrive daily from every settlement within the region. Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage." Cassandra stated as she observed all the people within the keep. The Seeker motioned Rajmael to follow her up the stairs to the main hall. "If word has reached these people, then it has also reached the Elder One. We now have the walls and numbers necessary to put up a fight here, but this war is beyond anything we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you."
Rajmael didn't exactly like where this might lead. "This isn't more nonsense about me being chosen by Andraste, is it?" he groaned.
Cassandra sighed wearily. "I will not ask you to believe, that is not why you are here. Your decisions allowed us to heal the sky, your determination saved us back in Haven. You are the creature's rival because of who you are. And we now know it. All of us."
They reached towards the top of the steps overlooking the courtyard, just below the entrance into the main hall.
"The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has already been leading us." Cassandra continued as Leliana approached them and ceremoniously held a sword with a horned dragon twisting around the hilt and the blade coming out of its maw. Leliana held the weapon out to Rajmael, bowing her head in respect. "You are the one we must follow." Cassandra finished.
This newest revelation almost knocked Rajmael off his feet as he looked at the Sword of The Inquisitor, and then down at the crowd of various people of all races looking up to him with hope from the courtyard. And his companions all stood down there with them, all with expectant looks on their face.
"Y-you're offering this to an elf, and a mage?" Rajmael asked apprehensively, he was so nervous his heart felt like it was going to explode inside his chest.
"I would be terrified handing this kind of power to anyone." Cassandra answered truthfully. "But I believe that it is the only way."
"But…I'm not even an Andrastian!" Rajmael insisted. "I'm an elf of the Dalish Clans."
"I know elves and Andrastian faith have had a sad history together." Cassandra sighed. "But without you, there is no Inquisition. We must all accept that. But what it means to you, how you lead us, is entirely up to you."
Rajmael grasped the sword from Sister Nightingale and held it in front of him. He gazed out his own vallaslin within the reflection of the blade, and realized what he must do. "I…will lead the Inquisition, and I will be the bridge for my people, and our faith. The Inquisition stands for all Thedas and its peoples."
"Wherever you lead us, I will follow." Cassandra looked down to Josephine amongst the crowd of people. "Have the people been told?"
"They have!" Josephine beamed.
Cassandra looked to Cullen down below. "Commander! Will the people follow?"
Cullen turned to the people who now stood amongst him. "Inquisition! Will you follow!?"
The pilgrims yelled their devotion.
"Will you fight?!"
The recruits raised their fists and yelled their courage.
"Will we triumph!?"
The Inquisition raised the arms and their cries of victory echoed through the Frostbacks.
Cullen drew his sword and saluted it to Rajmael. "Your leader! Your Herald! Your Inquisitor!"
Rajmael raised his sword on high for all the Inquisition to see, and felt their cries of praise and determination raise his spirit higher than anything he thought possible. Even Lady Josephine gave and a spirited cry, but quickly recomposed herself with a faint blush when she realized how unladylike that was.
Rajmael and his War Council moved to the inner keep, and saw that it was an aged, messy ruin filled with cold mountain air and bird shit.
"So this is where it begins." Cullen stated as he observed the shabby accommodations.
"It began in the courtyard." Leliana remarked. "This is where we turn our promise into a reality."
"But what do we do?" Josephine asked concernedly. "We know nothing of this Corypheus, save that he wanted your mark. And what of that dragon of his? Could it truly be an Archdemon?"
"If it were, you'd think we'd be suffereing a Blight right now." Cullen answered.
"I was in Denerim when Aedan Cousland slew the Archdemon on the top of Fort Drakon." Leliana reminded austerely. "That creature is a beast of incredible power no doubt, but I do not believe it is an Archdemon."
"And there's also the fact Corypheus claims to be one of the Magisters who started the Blights." Rajmael reminded. He looked at the empowered Anchor. Its presence on his hand was more profound ever since Corypheys tried to remove it. The Inquisitor turned to his councilors with zeal in his eyes. "Both the Venatori and the Red Templars must be moving vast amounts of supplies, money, and resources to fund their operations. Leliana, get whatever agents you can spare and smugglers who owe us, and have them observe and report any vast or strange amounts of resources going to unknown, or suspicious parties."
"It will be done." Sister Nightingale confirmed.
"Cullen, I want Inquisition recruiters in every village, every inn and outpost from the Amaranthine Ocean to the Hissing Wastes. We have to rebuild and expand the numbers we lost at Haven."
"I'll get right on it." Cullen nodded.
"Josephine, I want you to call in any and all favors that from the Fereldan and Orlesian nobility. Get us the resources we need to get this operation up and running."
"Understood." Josephine confirmed as she wrote it down on her clipboard.
"We must discover who are enemy truly is." Rajmael stated authoritatively. "Someone out there must know who or what he is."
"Unless they saw him out in the field, no one will even believe he exists." Cullen said somberly.
"But we do have one advantage: we know what Corypheus intends to do next." Leliana reminded. "In that dark future you traveled to, you said Empress Celene had been assassinated."
"Imagine the chaos her death would create." Josephine said disbelievingly. "With his army…."
"A massive army bolstered and led by demons that will sweep through the South like a plague, according to the future." Cullen recalled fatalistically.
"Corypheus could conquer half of Thedas if this succeeds, god or no god." Josephine said abashed.
Leliana sighed wearilly. "It would be better if we knew what we are dealing with, sadly I know no such person."
"Ahem, I know someone who could help with that." Varric coughed as he approached with a rather nervous look on his face. "Um, everyone acting all…inspirational and heroic, it, uh, jogged my unreliable memory a bit, and I, er, contacted an old friend. He's crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know a bit about our Blighted, Tevinter, god-like adversary. He can help."
This was interesting. Right now Rajmael could use all the help he could get. "Who is it, and how do they know about Corypheus?"
That nervous look of Varric's became more severe. "Uh, parading around in public might cause a…scene. It'll probably be best to meet privately, on the battlements. Away from everyone else, and within screaming distance should anything happen."
Leliana and Josephine exchanged a suspecting look as Varric vacated the hall with an unusually guilty look.
"Well, that's not ominous at all." Rajmael sighed sarcastically.
"We stand ready to move on both of these concerns." Lady Montilyet stated as she scanned over her clipboard with her quill.
"On your order, Inquisitor." Cullen acknowledged dutifully.
"I know one thing: if Varric has brought who I think he has, Cassandra's going to kill him." Leliana shook her head with a very sympathetic look on her face.
"Really?"
"With her bare hands." Leliana finished blithely.
~XoXoXo~
As Rajmael made his way over to the battlements where Varric and his mysterious friend were, Cassandra met him at the bottom of the stairs with that signature scowl on her face. Before he could pass her, she grabbed his arm in her vicelike grip. "Have you met this friend of Varric's yet?"
Cassandra's sword hand was actually really strong. "No, I was just on my way to meet with them both."
"It had better not be who I think it is, or I'll ring that lying bastard's neck." Cassandra gritted through her teeth, tightening her grip with every word.
The Seeker's grip was actually cutting off the circulation to the Inquisitor's lower arm. Whoever this might be, it pissed her off more than usual. "Who do you think it is?" Rajmael asked as he gently pried Cassandra's finger's off his already bruised arm.
"Someone this Inquisition, indeed, all of Thedas, could have used from the very beginning." Cassandra sighed and regained her composure, and removed her arm. "I will…reserve judgement for the moment. I don't need to give Varric more ammunition against me."
Rajmael quickly made his way up the stairs, rubbing the new sore spot Cassandra left on his arm. He almost felt sorry for the poor sap who raised that woman's ire. When he made it to the top of the barricades, Varric was in the middle of quaffing down a bottle of beer.
Varric finished his beer and wiped his mouth his sleeve, and belched loudly.
From the other side of the battlements approached a tall man, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, wearing high-quality armor, black and pointed of Free Marchers design, with a red sash embroidered with twin eagles in flight draped across his chest. Rajmael took a moment to inspect the man's face, he was a man in his middle years, and he had a mane of thick black hair that almost shined blue in the sun and a well-trimmed, triangular cut beard shaved close to his jaws, chin and lips. For some reason he had a blood smear going across his broad and strong face and his eyes were deep blue, full of experience, but also humility.
He was armed with two swords; the first was a bejeweled great sword slung across his back made of highest quality black steel and Rajmael could tell that, like his armor, it had been given many powerful enchantments. It was the Celebrant, sword of The Champions of the Free Marches. His second sword was strapped to his hip was very strange, well not as strange as it was…grotesque. It seemed like a poorly mangled piece of iron that some smith made to pretend was a sword. It had strips of copperish metal bands wrapped around the guard and handle, and, unlike most swords, this thing's blade didn't end in a fine point, but in a deep, scythe-like curve. Despite its crude appearance, this thing could probably rip through shields and knock off heads like they were nothing. Rajmael could sense great power emanating from sword, not enchantment though. Blood magic, perhaps?
"Inquisitor Rajmael Lavellan, meet Garret Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall." Varric introduced proudly.
"Although, I don't use that title much anymore." Hawke stated in strong but gentle voice.
"It's an honor to finally make your acquaintance." While Rajmael maintained a look of neutrality on his face, he was actually about to jump out of his skin. Garret Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, one of his favorite heroes, was actually talking to him! He had to get his autograph before this was over.
"I heard what Corypheus did to Haven. You have my sympathies." Hawke said sadly as he leaned against the barricade wall overlooking the people down in the courtyard. "The people here are looking up to you, Inquisitor, and from what Varric's been telling me about you, I don't doubt you'll do them proud."
Rajmael rubbed his forehead and sighed wearily. "I never wanted any of this. I thought that once the Breach was closed, they would no longer need me, then I could finally go home."
Hawke laughed sadly. "I know the feeling. When I arrived in Kirkwall, all I wanted to do was look after my family and friends. Then I had to start looking after the city, then defending the city from outside and inside influences. It seemed the longer I stayed, the worse things got. And the more I acted, the more others acted against me. Despite everything I did, I lost almost everything to that fucking city."
"You seem to be the expert on this. Got any advice for a newbie?" Rajmael asked half-jokingly.
"Keep your sword close, and your friends closer. Sometimes they're all you can depend on." Hawke answered sincerely. "And never, ever, go against your principals. Once you start compromising your conscience, everything you do will be called into question, and Inquisition cannot afford that."
"There's one thing I'm curious about, Hawke." Rajmael stated. "Why didn't you kill Anders?"
It was actually relieving to know that a figure as legendary as Garret Hawke was more than just what his reputation exaggerated. When Rajmael saw Aedan Cousland he saw no embellishments to his status as a force of destruction. But The Champion? It was good to know that he was still only human.
Hawke's face scowled bitterly at the mention of that name. "Because death was too good for him. Dead, he'd be a martyr for what he thought was a cause. Alive, he'll be hunted and hated by mages and nonmages alike, and the only ones who'd ever accept him are the kind of mages he hates. If we all have to suffer for what he did, then so must he."
"You felt that his crimes deserved punishment. Especially after he had betrayed you." Rajmael stated.
"It was far more than just that." Hawke said somberly. "Anders didn't just betray me. He betrayed himself. All the talk about mages being the victims, using magic responsibly, and all that hatred for injustice and hypocrisy, then he went and became what he proclaimed to despised. He turned his back on every good deed, every act of compassion to willingly become the catalyst for a war that no one was prepared for. If the rest of us have to live in a world of constant war and strife, the he has to, as well. Hated and alone. Please, can we change the subject?"
"What can you tell me about Corypheus?" Rajmael finally asked.
Hawke exhaled a forlorn breath. "A year before my mother's death, members of the Carta made several assassination attempts on me in my home, and on my sister, Bethany, in the Circle. Varric and I tracked the Carta to an ancient Grey Warden fortress hidden in the Vimmark Mountains, where they were worshiping Corypheus. The Grey Wardens created a prison specifically to hold Corypheus, and he somehow used his connection to Blight to control the Carta and members of the Grey Wardens." Hawke unsheathed and showed off the surreal sword, which emulated a sickening aura. "This was the key the Wardens used to lock the seals holding Coryphues, and more than thirty years ago, they used my father's blood to strengthen the seal. They wanted to use my blood to release the damned thing."
"Varric said you fought with Corypheus before."
"Fought and killed." Hawke answered fervently. "I didn't just think he was dead. I cut his head off and had Anders burn his body until there was nothing left. I wasn't going to leave anything to chance with that monster."
"Then what happened? The bastard that kicked my ass back in Haven looked pretty damned alive to me."
"I honestly don't know." The Champion sighed sadly. "It's funny, really. I went into that Maker-forsaken pit to stop that creature, only to be the one who released him into the world. The Maker has a sick sense of irony."
"Is there anything useful you can tell about how to deal with this monster?"
"I didn't come here just to deliver bad news." Hawke said with zeal. "I had a contact of mine the Warden, a man name of Stroud, do some research on Corypheus. He disappeared some time ago, and then I began to notice the Wardens were acting strangely."
Now that was something to be worried about. "You said that Corypheus controlled the Carta and Grey Wardens through the Blight. Is it possible he's manipulating them now?"
"That's what I've been led to believe." Hawke answered. "A few months ago Stroud resurfaced and sent me a message saying the Grey Wardens were now hunting him. He told me that he may have answers to what Corypheus is planning."
"Alright, that sounds promising. Do you intend to rendezvous with him?"
"After he sent me the message, Stroud went back underground." Hawke replied. "He told me to meet him at an old smuggler's cave in Crestwood, but with the Wardens hunting him, he will not be as forthcoming as we'd like. He's had to evade through northern Orlais, and through the Free Marches."
"The Wardens are some of the best tacticians, warriors and mages in all of Thedas." Rajmael stated despondently. "If they've joined up with Corypheus, then we could all be in some very deep shit."
"I know, but the Warden's aren't the only threat Corypheus wields." Hawke reminded. "Soon I'll head back out there, and I'll feed you information on what I learn about Corypheus and his Venatori through Varric's network of contacts."
"Varric, how well does your…?" Rajmael turned to where he thought Varric was still drinking his beer and found the storyteller was missing. Where'd he go? Rajmael looked down at the courtyard and saw Cassandra wasn't where she was last either. Rajmael suddenly had a bad feeling about what was probably happening.
Rajmael urgently motioned Hawke to follow him and the two of them made their way down the battlements. "Excuse me, did you see where Varric went?" Rajmael asked a nearby Chantry Sister.
"Oh. I thought I heard him say he was headed to the War Room." The Sister answered. "Seeker Pentaghast was following him. Looked like she really wanted a word with him."
The Champion and The Inquisitor exchanged a look of utter dread, and the two ran over to the War Room. There was only one kind of conversation Cassandra could have with Varric, and it usually involved stabbing something of his.
~XoXoXo~
They made their way into the War Room and from the sound of things the dwarf and the Seeker were already in the middle of a scuffle.
"YOU KNEW WHERE HAWKE WAS ALL ALONG!" The Nevarran royal roared from behind the door.
"You're damned right I did!" Varric spat as he struggled against Cassandra.
Hawke and Garret came through the door, followed by a concerned Leliana, Cullen and Josephine. Cassandra and Varric were too preoccupied in their struggle to notice their audience.
"Hawke would've been at the Conclave! If anyone could've saved Most Holy, it would've been him!" Cassandra yelled with angry tears verging on her eyes. "But you kept him from us!"
"Right, because the Chantry has been so famous for its honesty and integrity lately." Varric sneered. "After kidnapping and interrogating me, you thought I'd just sell my friend out to you?!"
"You conniving little shit!" Cassandra snarled as she grabbed Varric by his vest and slammed him against the war table. She was so intent on ringing Varric's neck, she didn't noticed a pissed off Hawke coming right behind her.
The Champion grabbed Cassandra by her tunic and threw her up against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. She stood herself back up, but before she could do anything else, Hawke drew the Celebrant and pointed its tip at her throat. Cullen instinctively went to his comrade's aid, but in the blink of an eye, Hawke drew his Key-Sword with his off hand, and hooked the curved tip around Cullen's neck.
"You alright, Varric?" Hawke asked his friend while keeping his swords firmly at the two knights' necks.
Varric straightened himself up and got off the floor. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll live. Thanks, Hawke."
Garret Hawke looked at the woman who threatened his friend with a glare that surpassed hers. "Do you really think I'd have helped the Chantry after everything it put me through!?" The intensity of his voice made everyone step back. "Everything that happened in Kirkwall was the Chantry's fault! Grand Cleric Elthina knew one of her own Chantry Mothers was inciting violence against the Qunari, but did nothing until Seamus Dumar was murdered, and the Arishok burned half the city! Elthina knew Meredith was abusing the mages and her authority, and did nothing while the people were suffering!"
Hawke removed his blade from Cassandra's throat and turned his attention to Cullen with vicious anger and hatred burning behind his eyes. With Hawke's sense of presence and commanding voice, no one in the room dared to interrupt him.
"Knight-Captain Cullen, Meredith's loyal stooge." Hawke said with disgust. "You defended Meredith's every decision no matter how horrid, you were loyal to crazy bitch only until she went insane. You stole Bethany from my family." The Champion's grip on his sword was shaking with anger and the curve of his sword was pressing dangerously against the back of Cullen's neck. "Do you have any idea what it was like for my family to have protected Bethany her whole life only for you to come and take her away, and then worrying about her every day and night, wondering if the next time I saw her I'd learn that she'd been made Tranquil, or executed? Do you!? Answer me!" Cullen said nothing, but averted his eyes from the Champion in shame. Hawke removed his sword from Cullen's neck and slugged his mailed fist into the Templar's face. Cullen stumbled backwards, landing on his back and hitting the back of his head against the wall. "Every time I saw you, I wanted to murder you for what you put my family through!"
With Cullen's mouth and nose bloodied, and both his swords sheathed, Hawke turned his attention to Leliana. "And you, Sister Nightingale. Divine Justinia' knife in the dark, a damned assassin pretending to be a saint. You came to Kirkwall to assess if it needed to be put to the sword because mages started rebelling, but you didn't go there to save anyone. You and the Divine didn't care about how many people were suffering under Meredith's control because she had the Chantry's authority. You just wanted to put the mages in their place, to remind them that the Chantry owned them!"
A pained look of shame swept across Leliana's face. While she wanted to defend her actions, there wasn't anything she could say that would matter to Hawke.
"The Chantry didn't deserve my help. For all I knew, you wanted to execute me as a scapegoat." Hawke continued furiously. "The Divine, and the Chantry, deserved everything that's happened to them for all the suffering they've caused. I was glad to hear The Most Holy had been killed in her own Conclave!"
Hawke stood there in the middle of the War Room in front of everyone, his voice still resonating in the halls, breathing heavy. Josephine and Mother Giselle stood there with pained and sympathetic looks on their faces, Leliana, on the other hand, had a look of mournful anger about what he said about Justinia. One of the most revered heroes in living memory had just degraded the very people who founded the Inquisition, and they could all feel the intensity of his scorn.
After regaining his calm composure, and seeing the affect he had on the three people he just disparaged, The Champion approached The Inquisitor. "You'll have to forgive me, Inquisitor, if I have serious doubts about those who advise you. I'll be outside. Meet with me before I leave."
Everyone parted a path for the Champion, not wanting to be the next object of his ire. When everyone felt like they could breathe again, they left the room, leaving Rajmael and Cassandra alone next to the War Table.
"He was right." Cassandra admitted bitterly. "I took Varric against his will, and ordered him to tell me where Hawke was so that he could serve the Chantry, and expected him to just give his friend up. If I had just explained to him what was at stake…If I'd just made him understand…But I didn't. I just ordered him to do it, and expected him to just give his friend up. I am such a fool."
"You cannot control everything, Cassandra. People especially." The Inquisitor said gently.
"Perhaps, but it is only way I know how to protect others." The Seeker lamented.
"Do you think things would be different if you'd found Hawke?" Rajmael asked consolingly.
"Honestly? I think Hawke would've tried to kill me for even trying to recruit him. The Chantry only ever brought him pain." Cassandra answered sadly. "But this isn't about Hawke, or even Varric, not really. Even when we first met, all I ever did was try to force my way onto others. I should have been smarter, more careful. I don't deserve to be here."
Rajmael thought back to when Cassandra declared the Inquisition in defiance of the Chantry, and how she stood against the demons alongside Aedan Cousland so that he could escape back to the present. "Cassandra, we wouldn't be here now if not for what you've done. You deserve to stand here more than most."
Cassandra choked a sigh a relief. "I…want you to truly know that I have no regrets following you. The Maker sent you, not The Champion of Kirkwall, or the Hero of Ferelden." Rajmael helped Cassandra stand back up. "You're not what I would've expected, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I know less than nothing."
~XoXoXo~
After everyone had about half an hour to calm down after what just transpired in the War Room, Hawke said his farewells to Varric, and asked his old friend to write a letter to Merrill and Isabella telling them he was alright, and to give them his love. Hawke missed his Rivaini minx and Dalish darling with all his heart.
His mind went back to Kirkwall as he recalled everything that was happening there. That pretentious, whiny, little wannabe priest, Sebastien Vael, finally returned to Starkhaven after ten years of avoiding it so that he didn't have to take up the responsibility rulership like scared child, and the first thing he did was launch an invasion against Kirkwall because Hawke didn't kill Anders. Aveline and the City Guard sent Sebastien back to Starkhaven with his tail between his legs, but that wouldn't stop him from trying again. But Hawke knew that no one could take Kirkwall from Aveline as long as her heart was beating.
Bethany. Even though Hawke knew Aveline took her somewhere safe from all the fighting, Hawke couldn't help but worry about his little sister. They were all that was left of their side of the family, and he didn't want anything to happen to her. Last he heard their cousin, Charade, visited her often and made sure she was safe. After losing his parents and his brother, Hawke wasn't going to lose any more family.
Hawke prayed that the Inquisitor was the solution to this horror he unknowingly unleashed. Corypheus only destroyed the Conclave and Haven because Hawke failed to kill him. And now his failure threatened to doom the world. He prayed his father, Malcolm, would forgive him for making his sacrifice vain.
"Greetings Champion of Kirkwall." Mother Giselle greeted.
"Greetings." Hawke returned politely.
"Your name has passed through the lips of many who serve the Chantry, some spoke of you with reverence, others with resentment." The Chantry Mother stated honestly. "Your time in Kirkwall made you famous amongst the inner circles of the Chantry."
"I merely did what I had to protect my family, and then later my city when our leaders, and the Chantry, refused to." Hawke answered sternly.
"I understand the reasons for your actions, Champion." Giselle condoned. "Grand Cleric Elthina was one of the best of people, and a dear friend of mine. I'm sure she'd be proud to know your accomplishments have brought you so far."
"Grand Cleric Elthina." Hawke groaned with enmity. "The only reason why the Qunari invaded, and why Meredith was able to practically enslave Kirkwall was because that pious biddy was too busy praying on her knees to do anything useful. When the city needed action, she urged complacency. I will never condone what Anders did, but I always saw him in the depths of Dark Town healing the sick, delivering babies, and helping the wounded, while Elthina did nothing but sing in the Chantry. Maybe if she got up from her knees and off her ass, things never would have gotten as far as they did."
"I heard what you said back in the War Room, Champion. I believe half the keep heard you." Mother Giselle admitted. "I understand that your feelings for the Chantry must have soured after we failed to properly aide Kirkwall. I just hope that what the Chantry has, or has not done, hasn't faltered your faith in The Maker."
A sad look washed over Hawke's eyes as painful memories swept through his mind. "After what I saw after the defeat at Ostagar during the Blight, seeing a bloodmage turn my mother into an undead monstrosity, and discovering one of the Magisters who breached the Golden City, how can I not think the Maker exists." The Champion listed sadly. "Don't get me mistaken, Mother Giselle. I do believe in the Maker, with all my heart. Because I've seen the Maker's work more than you ever have. And He makes me sick."
"Then I pray that you find the good in the plan that he has for us all. After all that you've done for others, you certainly deserve to." Mother Giselle wished sincerely and left the Champion alone.
~XoXoXo~
Hawke had been left alone for not even five minutes when he sensed a familiar presence that made his anger spike.
"If you're here to get punched again, I'll be more than happy to oblige you, Cullen." Hawke said, his displeasure obvious. "If you're not here to get punched again, well, that still might happen anyway."
Cullen approached the Champion with the slightest hint of hesitation in his step, and a piece of cotton in his nostrils to stop the bleeding from when Hawke punched him in the face back in the War Room. The Commander sighed deeply. He knew this day was a long time coming, and perhaps it was best to just get it over with.
"Champion, I know that my...actions in the past have not endeared myself to you. Indeed, if I were in your position, I would probably hate me, too." Cullen said humbly. "I know it doesn't mean much at this point, but I am sorry for what I did to your family."
Leliana quietly approached, regret painted on her face. "I...I too must apologize, Ser Hawke. I knew your sister when I was at the cloister in Lothering. I still remember your father and mother, and that they were good people. You were right about what you said back in the War Room. The Chantry failed to protect your family and Kirkwall the way we should have. You were right, the Divine did not send me to Kirkwall to truly aid in its troubles, but to suppress the conflict. We should have done more."
Hawke looked at Cullen and Leliana, unmoved by their words. "I'm sorry, but it's far too late for either of your words to mean a damned thing to me. If either of you had done something to stop Meredith's insanity, maybe Anders never would have destroyed Kirkwall's Chantry and many thousands who died would still be alive. Everything that happened was because you and the Chantry failed."
A guilty look came over Cullen and Leliana. As much as they wanted to believe otherwise, they knew they could not deny what the Champion said.
"Do you not think that we know this?" Leliana asked in exasperation. "That every time I wake up I don't think about the many souls that are suffering because we did not do enough?"
"We tried our best, but in the end, it wasn't enough." Cullen added.
"It's not that you didn't try and failed, it's that both of you did nothing." Hawke scolded. "Both of you thought only of serving the Chantry, but neither of you cared about what was happening to the rest of us who live down here, in the real world, and how what you did affected us. What gave you the right to decide the fate of others? What right did you have to impose on us?"
"Our duty, the Chantry's duty, was to ensure the safety of Thedas." Leliana justified adamantly. "There was so much chaos in Kirkwall, that the Divine had no choice but to take action."
"I find your naïve misgiving to be almost hilarious, Sister Nightingale." Hawke chuckled sarcastically. "You're still trying to see things from a standpoint a Chantry servant, that everything you did was for the betterment of everyone else, and not solely for the Chantry's benefit. Everything that has happened to the world is the Chantry's fault, and both of you contributed."
Both Leliana and Cullen were taken aback at what Hawke said. A sensation of anger and denial dwelled in them both, but they also felt they couldn't deny what he said.
"You don't think you contributed to that, Champion?!" Cullen demanded angrily. "That maybe the thing you did added to the chaos? Maybe if you had turned Anders over to the Circle none of that would have happened?"
"Typical Chantry attitude: 'it's always someone else's fault." Hawke responded dourly. "You think that if Anders was taken by the Circle Meredith wouldn't have become a tyrannical bitch that she was? Or that Mother Petrice wouldn't have provoked the Qunari? Fuck you, both of you." Garret stood up to both of them angrily, not giving them any room to debate him. "You let Meredith unjustly turn mages Tranquil, for the most meaningless of reasons! You let her rob them of their Maker-given free will, sunder their souls! You, Leliana, you and the Chantry gave Meredith the power to enslave the city, and only wanted to take action that would keep you in control. Neither of you cared about Kirkwall! I did what I knew in my heart was right. I wasn't guided by bigotry or some misbegotten loyalty to a corrupt institution. And in the end, I know I can go before the Maker with a clear conscience. Can either of you say the same?"
Both Cullen and Leliana were stung by the Champions words, and a feeling of dread crept through their hearts. Both of them had done questionable, even awful things throughout their lives. And when they stood before the Maker, would His judgment on them be merciful?
"You...! You're right. There's no point in denying that any more." Cullen admitted in defeat. "I allowed what happened to me in Fereldan to justify the treatment of Kirkwall's mages. I never thought to question Meredith, even though I knew her methods were becoming more harsh and intolerable. I knew she wielded the brand for minor reasons, but I thought she was stopping the corruption before it started. There is no excuse for what I allowed her to do."
"We didn't do enough for the people of Kirkwall, and you're right to be angry." Leliana confessed. "I know that apologies are meaningless, but I will make sure that we learn from our mistakes, and do better for Thedas."
"Maybe you can give those condolences to all the people who died thanks to your failures. I'm sure they'll be overjoyed." Hawke scoffed uncaringly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I got better things to do with my time than shoot with people I don't like."
Cullen and Leliana were left morose and dismayed. Garret Hawke was one of the most celebrated heroes in Thedas, and was well known for his just character. For him to have judged them so poorly spoke terribly of their actions. It couldn't be denied that if the Chantry had done more, maybe Thedas wouldn't be in the chaos it was now. Meredith had stoked the flames with her prejudiced lunacy that quickly blazed like wildfire across Thedas, and she did it with the Divine's authority. Divine Justinia tried to douse the flames of war, but there were too many fires to put out, too many souls that had been burned by the Chantry's ignorance and failure. The only way for the Chantry to continue and to make up for what it had done was for them to learn from their mistakes, and try to mend the world. Otherwise, righteous men, men like Hawke, would rise against them and the world will have learned nothing from all this.
~XoXoXo~
"Everything alright?" Rajmael asked. He noticed that the Champion seemed a little put out
"Just more people with wishful thinking." Hawke answered. "Before I go, I left a cache of weapons and a few other things for you and your companions. Maker knows you'll probably need them more than I do."
"Do any of them have your autograph?" Rajmael asked hopefully.
"Just one of the books Varric wrote." That answer almost made The Inquisitor jump for joy. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to show me a discreet exit out of your keep. I'd rather not make a scene as I leave."
Rajmael put a sly grin on his face. "It's down the hall that way to your left and…HEY, EVERYONE, THE CHAMPION OF KIRKWALL IS OVER HERE!" The Inquisitor screamed out into the courtyard.
That announcement left Hawke dumbstruck and practically all of Skyhold heard it. Scout Harding squealed at the top of her lungs and it echoed throughout the mountains, as almost all of the refugees and pilgrims came stampeding to the Main Hall.
"Oh, Champion! Please sign my books!" Scout Harding cried.
"Sign my chest!" A lay sister begged.
"Give me a baby!" A random woman from the oncoming crowd shrieked.
Hawke's eyes darted around and desperately looked for an exit before the ravenous herd of fans caught him.
"Champion, over here!" Josephine became his saving grace when she opened a door that led to another exit out of the Main Hall.
"Thank you, milady." Hawke said as he ran past the Ambassador and shot her a flirtatious wink.
"J-just send an autographed picture to my sister. Yvette Montilyet of Antiva City!" Josephine called after Hawke as he ran down the alternate passage.
Leliana shot Josephine an inquisitive look. "Josie? Are you…blushing?"
"What? No!" A flush-faced Josephine denied. "I…I think men with beards are attractive. And…he's the Champion of Kirkwall for Andraste's sake!"
Cassandra looked into the chest Hawke left behind and felt her heart almost stop at the sight of the one item she never thought she'd ever see in the flesh, and her hands shook almost uncontrollably as he reached for it. A gilded-hardcover, limited edition copy of Tales of The Champion, autographed by Hawke, and all his companions. There was even an autographed picture inside. Cassandra looked to make sure no one was watching her, and quickly grabbed her coveted prize, then stored it in her satchel. She would read it later, for purely academic reasons only.