Thank you all for reading! Special thanks to suilven for her speedy and thoughtful betaing!

The mage stopped in front of him, her blue eyes staring boldly into his. Cullen took comfort that she couldn't see his face through his helmet, because he was certain he was blushing scarlet at being so close to her. He ought to bark at her, to tell her to move along, but she was beautiful, and fearless, her eyes laughing at him, daring him to censure her.

"I know which one you are, you know," she whispered to him. "You're Cullen, aren't you?"

He didn't dare so much as nod. Tessier would be watching him, and would report anything he did wrong. Even letting her stand here could get him in trouble.

"I've seen you without your helmet." She leaned toward him. "You're new. I can tell. I can always tell the new ones. I'm Leyden."

Cullen knew that, naturally. He knew all the apprentices; it was his job. But this one—his eyes were drawn to her. Had been from the first. Had she really noticed him, too? His heart pounded. It was absolutely forbidden, what he was thinking, from talking to her to tasting her lips to everything beyond, but he couldn't help himself.

"I'll see you around, Cullen." Leyden began to move away, but something fluttered to the floor at her feet. A piece of vellum from her spellbook. With the automatic courtesy his mother had drummed into him, Cullen bent to pick it up for her. Leyden knelt as well. Her fingers touched the metal of his gauntlet as they both reached for the piece of vellum, and hastily she whispered, "I'll be in the library every night this week at quarter past the candle snuffing."

And then she was gone, moving down the hallway away from him, her hips swaying, one last glance over her shoulder taunting him, leaving Cullen in an agony of desire. He would meet her in the library, and damn the consequences.

Cullen woke with a head burning like fire and a mouth as dry as the desert. It was a struggle just to get out of bed and get properly dressed; climbing down the ladder from his loft to his office seemed to take forever.

By the time he finally had both feet flat on the floor, he had decided. He had been right, coming home from Adamant; he was no longer valuable to the Inquisition as he was. Today he would find Cassandra and tell her as much. No doubt she would be relieved to have the burden of making that decision off her shoulders. He would apologize to the Inquisitor, but the Inquisitor would understand.

Would he? He didn't have the look of a man who gave up easily. Perhaps he would think that Cullen should have fought harder.

No. This was the right decision. If he continued on this course, sooner or later he would fail the Inquisition and people would get hurt. The way they had at Haven.

Cullen moved swiftly now, sure of his decision. He called Cassandra downstairs, since the blacksmiths hadn't started yet this morning. It was warm in the shop, with the banked fires ready to be stoked for the day's work.

"Cullen, are you—" Cassandra stopped in front of him. "No. You are not well."

He shook his head. Or possibly his whole body was shaking; Cullen wasn't certain. "It's time, Cassandra."

"I find that hard to believe. After all these months?"

"Look!" He held his hand out, showing her how his fingers trembled. "You must see that I can't go on like this."

"Have you seen the surgeon, asked for help with the symptoms? Have you spoken with Dagna? I cannot imagine that she won't have some kind of remedy to ease the discomfort."

Cullen stared at her, aghast. Ask for help with this shameful withdrawal?

Cassandra frowned at him. "No. Of course you haven't. You are preferring to give up rather than let anyone see you as human. And vulnerable."

Look who was talking, Cullen thought. As far as he could tell, Cassandra had never been vulnerable a day in her life. "It is not giving up! It is knowing when I am a danger to the Inquisition, which is what you were supposed to be watching for!"

"I am watching, and you are not a danger. Except possibly to yourself."

"Go to the Inquisitor and tell him I must be replaced."

"No."

"Cassandra!"

"You asked for my opinion, and I've given it." She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "Why would you expect me to change it merely because you shout at me?"

"I expected you to keep your word," Cullen growled. The pain spiked again, his hand going to his face to cover his eyes from the light of the forge. "It's relentless; I can't—" He groaned with the pain this time.

"You give yourself too little credit. You have made it this far. What if this is the worst it ever gets? Give yourself a chance to get past it, Cullen!"

Couldn't she see what would happen if he did that? "If I am unable to fulfill those vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this, all the pain I've put myself through. Would you rather save face than admit—" He cut himself off when the door opened.

"I'm not saving face, Cullen," Cassandra told him more quietly. "I am trying to save you."

The Inquisitor approached them, looking up at them both with a calm firmness that said he wasn't going to be put off when he asked, "What's going on?"

"I have told Cassandra that I need to be replaced as Commander of the Inquisition."

"And I have told him that I will recommend no such thing."

"Good. That's nonsense," Thule said.

"It is not nonsense!" Cullen cried, affronted. Both of them were treating him like a child who didn't know what was best, but neither of them knew what this was like. "At Adamant, I could have—"

"At Adamant, you breached the walls like you do it every day, and I hear your fighting in the battle itself was an inspiration to everyone around you. Hm." Thule narrowed his eyes, studying Cullen thoughtfully. "Could this be a reaction? Battle creates a certain exhilaration, we've all experienced it, and the aftermath is a let-down."

"Yes!" Cassandra nodded. "That must be what this is, Cullen, the reaction to the battle heightened by your symptoms."

"Heightened by, heightening, probably both." Thule reached out and put a hand on Cullen's arm. "Give it a few days, at least, before we make any momentous decisions. Not only are you excellent at your job, I don't know how the Inquisition would replace you, much less get someone else up to speed in the time we would have to do it in. We need you, Cullen."

"I …" He stared at them. He couldn't talk them both down, and the Inquisitor was right, he hadn't considered what would be lost while a replacement was chosen and trained. "I will give it a few days." He left the forge, feeling lost and miserable.

Thule found Varric in the main hall, head down, scribbling madly. "Oh, good, you're working on it."

"Working on what?"

"Swords & Shields."

Varric laughed. "Hardly. I may never work on that one again; it's horrible. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink."

"Oh."

"Don't tell me you're a fan."

"No, but I know someone who is."

Varric put down his quill and leaned back in his chair. "Well, don't leave me in suspense. Who is it? I know—Curly."

Thule grinned. "No, but close."

"You're shitting me. The Seeker reads the romance serial? Oh, this is a glorious day." Varric laughed. "Thank you, Stones, I needed that."

"I'm completely serious."

"I know you are, that's what makes it so good. So, you're here to ask me if I'll write her the next chapter." Varric shook his head theatrically. "I don't know … I don't usually write on commission …"

Thule crossed his arms and frowned at his friend. "How much?"

"You don't think filthy lucre is going to get this done, do you? Oh, no, I'm going to want something much more interesting than coin. Ah, and here I thought a hole in the sky would be the weirdest thing in my day."

"You did not think that."

"No, you're right; a dozen things stranger than a hole in the sky happen in this Inquisition every day." Varric grinned, and Thule glared at him.

"How much, Varric?"

"Come on, Stones, it's such a terrible idea you know I can't resist it. But, one condition."

"Name it," Thule said, not without some inward misgiving. Knowing Varric, the condition could be anything from getting him a pet monkey to installing a statue of Bethany in the center of Kirkwall. Which, now that he thought of it, wasn't such a terrible idea … but maybe in Lothering or Amaranthine, instead. He'd have to talk to Alistair.

Varric said, "I get to be there when you give her the pages."

Well, that didn't have bad idea written over it, not at all. "Fine," Thule said, over his misgivings.

"Good. Now get lost while I work." Varric picked up the quill and flipped the parchment over to the blank side on the back. "Come get me after dinner, it should be ready by then."

"After dinner? I thought you slaved over these things for weeks, editing and polishing and perfecting?"

"Our little secret," Varric said absently, the quill already moving.

"Charlatan."

"Yeah, yeah. If this works, you name your first baby after me. Tethras Cadash Pentaghast has a nice ring to it."

Thule considered a very rude response, but remembered just in time that he was the Inquisitor, and he walked off with at least some of his dignity intact.

He came back, as ordered, after dinner. "Finished?"

"Oh, it's a masterpiece. I've never written anything this tragically, beautifully, amazingly awful in my life. I consider it my tour de force."

"Varric, if you write this for her and it's utter crap …"

"Yes, I know, you'll drag me all over the ass end of Thedas and ruin my boots. Oh, wait, you already do that." They looked at one another steadily before Thule groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Let's do this."

"Such enthusiasm. And here I thought you were wooing the lady. If I can offer a bit of advice …"

"You can shut it, is what you can do," Thule snapped.

"I see she's already having a fine effect on you."

Cassandra was just leaving the training grounds, looking sweaty and a bit disheveled and completely glorious. Thule wanted to lick the sweat off her neck. Hastily, he tried to think of something else.

Meanwhile, Cassandra was glaring at Varric. "What have you done now?"

"Is that any way to apologize?"

"Apologize? That was weeks ago, and you are still angry?"

"You tried to throw me off the balcony!"

Cassandra took a deep breath, with a visible effort. "Fine, you are correct, I did. And I apologize."

"Thank you. For what it's worth, I apologize, too. I could have been more … forthcoming, but … I feared for Hawke's life."

"A valid concern," Cassandra conceded.

Varric held out the bundle of parchment. "A peace offering."

She stared at it with suspicion. "What is this?"

"The next chapter of Swords & Shields. A little bird told me you're a fan."

"A little bird with a big mouth." Cassandra's grey eyes were boring into the top of Thule's skull.

"Well, if you're not interested …" Varric moved the bundle out of Cassandra's reach and made as if to turn around and leave.

"Wait!"

Varric smiled, not entirely nicely. "You're probably wondering what happens to the Knight-Captain."

"Nothing should happen to her," Cassandra protested. "She was falsely accused."

Thule didn't mind at all being nothing more than a fly on the wall for this conversation. To see Cassandra so animated was making his day. His week. Possibly his month. Of course, it would have been nice if she'd showed as much enthusiasm for him … but he had facilitated this, at least. He'd take what he could get.

"Well," Varric said, flipping open the bundle and perusing a page, "it turns out the guardsman …"

Cassandra took a step toward him, reaching for the pages. "Don't tell me!"

Varric handed the bundle over. "This is the part where you thank the Inquisitor," he whispered theatrically. "I don't normally give sneak peeks, after all." He headed back to the keep, leaving Thule alone with Cassandra … and her chapter.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"My pleasure."

She was staring down at the pages, her eyes shining. "I wonder if I have time to read the first part?"

"You could read it to me," Thule suggested.

Cassandra looked at him. "Some other time, perhaps."

"I look forward to it."

He left her to her reading, not that she noticed. Leaning against the railing of the practice circle, she was already engrossed. Thule couldn't help but smile, glad that he could make her happy, even in a small way.