A/N: We return to Meira's POV. Enjoy!

I turned my head towards Cullen's bed, knowing it would be empty, but hoping he'd be there. The bed was made, his things gone. I will deal with this alone. Those words had cut me deep and ignited anger within my chest. I'd cut out my heart for him, spilling out the atrocity that I had committed and the atrocities that had been committed against me. I held it out to him, blood dripping.
He'd taken it willingly without disgust. He'd shared some of his darkness and I had not shied away. What made him think I'd turn away now? How could he see the broken mess that I was and think I would not accept him wholeheartedly?
I felt my mana writhing again as my anger burned to rage at his stubbornness. With a bitter sigh I ripped the covers off myself before pulling my boots on. He might avoid sleep, but I'd pin him down for training. I wrenched the cabin door open and stormed up to the clearing, ignoring the looks from the recruits as I passed.
Cullen was there, blade and shield in hand moving through his various exercises. I readied my own weapons before slamming a foot at the ground. Ice captured his feet and bewilderment colored his face. His honey eyes darted around in search of the threat until they landed on me. He started to smile, but it faltered at what his eyes beheld.
I did not mask the rage I was feeling before entering my stance. I willed the ice to melt from his feet and approached. He took his stance, his features going rigid. We circled each other, each waiting for an opening in the other's guard. Neither gave, but we continued in our circle.
Then he charged me; there had been no flicker in his features, no sign that he'd been about to attack. I spun just in time to the left and swept with my shield. The blow landed on his sword arm, but he didn't drop his blade. Instead, he swung his body around leading with his own shield to bash mine. I jumped back to avoid the blow, knowing his weight would knock me off my feet.
We circled, eyes locking. He charged again, I spun but he anticipated it this time as he changed direction split second. Squarely hitting his shield, I brought my own up just in time to block three blows with his blade. My arm went numb behind the shield as it cracked, but I willed the ice to reform - thicker and longer, a shield taller than I. I sank it into the ground.

"Show me what you've got, Lavellan," he barked, "Or are you not as angry as you look?"

Rage flared and mana sang. He appeared behind the shield, his sword sweeping at me. I ducked and pushed off the ice, freezing the ground beneath my body to propel me away from him. I rolled and stood, conjuring the fire bow.
Arrow after arrow I sent at him, but he deflected each with his shield. With a grunt of effort, I knocked a half dozen arrows and sent them at him. The flames turned to a smoke cloud. In his distraction, I summoned dual ice daggers and ran at him.
He pulled his shield last second to get eyes on me and rolled away from my approach. I slid on the frozen ground to close in on him, sinking a dagger into the ground to summon pillars of ice to trap him. Hitting the shield, I launched myself at him. He was furiously trying to break his weapons free, but at my fast approach he abandoned them to jump backwards. He drew a dagger from his belt and bent into a defensive position.

"You see that's the thing, Rutherford," I snarled, "I don't lose my weapons."

"That talent does you no good if you don't know how to use them," he bared his teeth in a feral grin.

I bared my teeth back, "I have a good teacher."

"But are you confident enough for a close-quarters fight?" He was baiting me, I knew, but my anger was threatening to blind me.

Getting close would be my defeat. All he had to do was use his weight, get me off my feet and I was done. I'd have to get him off balance and do it fast before he could outmaneuver me. I looked his stance over, measured the distance between us and formed a plan.
He charged, knowing getting close would be his advantage. I waited three seconds and then slammed my foot into the ground. Simultaneously two pillars of ice erupted from underneath us: one under his right foot and one larger one beneath me. While his knocked him off his feet, I used mine to catapult me at him.
As he fell to the side, I summoned the fire bow again and sent two arrows at his chest. They turned to smoke before they hit him, but left ash behind where the arrows would have embedded themselves. I landed on my feet and turned to him. He hit the ground and rolled before getting up on a knee. His eyes fell to his tunic to find the evidence of my victory.

He lifted his head and smiled, "That's what I expected the first time we fought."

I was panting, my mana nearly spent, "For me to beat you?"

"You think you beat me?" he chided as he looked pointedly at my side.

I followed his gaze and found his dagger caught in my leather cloak right over where my liver would be located. He'd aimed for my cloak to avoid truly injuring me, but he was telling me in a real fight he would have killed me at the same time I would've killed him. "A draw then?" I growled.

He smirked, but nodded. "A draw." He stood and brushed himself off, "So, what is bothering you?"

I glared at him. "I will deal with this alone," I quoted, my voice full of venom. "Don't you dare do that to me, Cullen." Disbelief skewed his face and if I hadn't been so angry, I would have found it adorable. I crossed my arms over my chest. "You don't have to share things that you don't want to with me, but don't you dare treat me as if I would not understand or listen. That I would somehow judge you or whatever else it is you fear. I was only offering to help you if I could or if you wanted. Did I not tell you that you are de - that our friendship is dear to me?"

"I- that is-" he stammered, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked away from me, sheathing his sword. "I just...you have your own worries and I do not want to add to them." His eyes found mine, "Besides, it is as you said, forgetting is not the answer."

I hadn't thought about that when I offered to help. "Fair enough, but tell me that instead of throwing my offer of help back in my face as if I was nosing in where I'm not welcome. If that's how you feel about me, then you need to tell me."

"Maker's breath, no!" he looked startled and crossed the gap between us, "That's not it at all. I - you - we...Andraste, preserve me," he pinched the bridge of his nose.

At his clearly flustered appearance my anger ebbed a little. I was being too hard on him, but I wanted him to know that he had hurt me. "I understand if there are things you need to keep to yourself, but don't shut me out. I'm here and willing to listen whenever you need me."

He looked at me, a multitude of thoughts playing out behind his eyes. "Thank you."

I nodded, "What's on the agenda today, Commander?"

A frown pulled at his lips, but he quickly recovered. "I'd say that was enough of a training lesson. It's time for you to have a different kind of lesson."

"Different kind?" I quirked a brow.

All I got in response was a smirk.

"Is this payback for raking you over the coals earlier?" I growled as I shook nervously. I sat atop one of the large chestnuts Dennet had gifted us, feeling strangely detached from the earth and desperately wanting to have solid ground beneath my feet.
Dennet was next to me, giving instructions and something akin to encouragement. Cullen leaned against the fence, his chin resting on his crossed arms. A crowd had amassed to observe my first time riding and my face felt as if it was melting off with the embarrassment burning there.

"Not at all," Cullen chuckled, "Dennet offered to give you a few lessons before we leave."

"Might as well have used it as payback, because it's working," I called, my voice wavering with anxiety. I eyed the horse's head nervously as its ear twitched back to listen to my voice.

"Need to speak calmly, they respond to your emotions," Dennet scolded, "Keep up your posture."

I mumbled an apology and readjusted myself in the saddle. I had to admit, it was nice being this tall. I hoped I would get comfortable in the saddle soon, but for now it was terrifying. I expected the horse to bolt on me at any moment or throw me. I would if I was the poor creature seated with such a nervous rider. I gave Cullen a pleading look to which he chuckled, but circled his finger towards the ground to indicate that I was to keep going through the lesson. He pushed off the fence and went about the rest of his duties for the day.
Dennet ran me through simple paces: how to sit and move with the horse properly for the least amount of discomfort, how to steer, how to indicate that I wanted to speed up or slow down. He would encourage or scold depending on how I did, but always talk sweetly with the horse.
I didn't think the man had a soft side, but when it came to the four-legged beast, Dennet was sweeter than a teenage boy to his crush. The lesson lasted a couple of hours and by the time Dennet helped me out of the saddle, I thought my hips were coming out of place.

"Walk it off," Dennet instructed, "The best thing you can do is stretch your legs out to help ease the pain. Then gettin' back in the saddle tomorrow."

"Andraste, give me strength," I groaned and rubbed my low back.

"Seems your Commander is in need of you," Dennet nodded his head behind me and I could've sworn his lips twitched on the word "your".

I turned to find Cullen shouldering his way into the pen, his face serious. There were a few pieces of parchment in his hand and he waved me over to him. "We've located the templar and mage camps. We will be eliminating them tonight."

"Tonight?" I quirked a brow before hissing as pain shot up my legs.

"Tonight," he repeated, "Apparently they're planning on attacking each other in full force tomorrow. Our soldiers are due any time today, thank the Maker. We eliminate them tonight or there's going to be more innocent people killed as they spread their war zone." He was angry and his eyes held the promise of death to any that dared to harm the refugees or farmers again.

"Tonight it is," I acquiesced, "What do you need me to do?"

"I want you with me," he ordered, "The Trevelyans are going to head the attack on the mage camp. I don't expect you to engage, but I want you there as a healer and to observe how templars work."

"Who's going to watch the farmers?" I asked as we began to head towards the camp where the recruits and soldiers were gathered.

"I went to inspect the watchtowers while you were finishing your lesson," he placed his hands on his sword pommel, "They are nearly complete, but more importantly the signals can now be properly lit. Soldiers will be bunked in them, several patrols will be assigned and guards posted at each house. I plan on using small numbered groups to attack the camps as Leliana's people have observed their numbers to be small. Dwindled as they've been particularly skilled at killing each other."

"What am I to do if I'm attacked by a templar's abilities?" I asked, recalling the smite, "I have no defense against them."

"I won't allow that," Cullen growled, "If they should get past me to you, run."

"Is there no way to fend off their abilities?" I questioned.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, "Perhaps, but there is not time enough to cover it before we go to them." He held his hand out to me, a couple folded pieces of parchment in his palm. "Bethany and Minaeve sent word to you."

I grasped the letters, "Do I have time to read them?"

"I'll give you fifteen minutes," Cullen nodded, "I have a few things to see to that do not require your assistance. After that, I will need you with the other soldiers as I discuss our tactics and divvy up tasks."

"See you in fifteen," I said in parting. I made my way to the stables and entered the mabari pen. The great hounds glanced at me with their intelligent eyes, their pointed ears erect at my approach. I opened the gate and though they watched me, they made no move to approach. I sat on the fluffy hay and pulled out the letters. I opened Minaeve's first, assured it would be short, but full of new information on her recent studies.

Meira,

I apologize for not writing before this, but I figured you'd be back before I needed to send word to you. The Tranquil and I have discovered much in your absence, but I wanted your opinion on a few things. I attached a copy of my notes and some, albeit, crude drawings of anatomy. I was hoping you could redraw my poor attempts in order to appropriately capture their finer details. I included blank pieces of parchment and some chalk for you. Feel free to add any additional theories you develop.

Hope to see you soon as we've missed you,

Minaeve

P.S. How are things going with your dear Commander? I expect a full report when you return - Bethany does too, but she's too dignified to ask you straight out.

I laughed at Minaeve's postscript before looking over her notes. They certainly had been busy while we'd been away as I read over her messy script. Attack patterns, weaknesses, affinities to certain environments, and even likely magics that would work most effectively against them were all included. I chuckled at her drawing attempts; she'd even scribbled notes about how bad she knew they were, but believed I could work miracles. Next, I opened Bethany's letter and read over her elegant scrawl.

Meira,

How are you doing? How are things at the farmland? We've heard snippets, but Sister Leliana and Ambassador Josephine keep things close to the chest. Captain Rylen told me a little bit when I asked him about the soldiers he was sending your way. He mentioned that the Commander also requested a few mages to be stationed there. Was that your doing? The Captain asked if I'd be interested, but I declined.
I've missed your help in healing the injured, but I've been able to teach some of the Sisters how to care for injuries that don't require magic. It has been a relief.
Mages have made their way to Haven not wanting to be part of the rebellion any more and with them they've brought several fledglings. We've set them up in one of the remaining empty huts, but we are quickly outgrowing Haven.
When I l ook into the children's frightened eyes...Meira, what are we going to do? They have no place to go, but I don't feel that being amongst the Inquisition is necessarily the safest place for them. I hope you and the Commander will have some input as to how best to handle their safety.

See you soon,

Bethany

P.S. The herbs you picked on your way to the Crossroads have set us up well, but we will need more soon. Perhaps the farmland could provide a more steady source or the recruits would be able to make regular deliveries once all the local threats are dealt with...just some thoughts I had, perhaps you could run them by the Commander?

A smirk pulled at my lips at Bethany's last question. Too dignified, indeed. I curled a loose hair over my ear as I thought about the fledglings. They had to be so frightened. Much like the Tranquil, I was sure they'd been forgotten in the midst of this war.
His prior experience as interim Knight-Commander would leave Cullen far more qualified to figure out a plan for them than I. I'd have to talk with him about their care. He'd always had a soft spot for the little ones when we were at Kinloch Hold. A gentle smile spread across my face as I recalled a memory from our days at the Circle tower.

...

It was nightfall, dinner had been finished for a couple of hours. I was helping the children and younger teens clean the refectory. The mages and Tranquil cleaned the majority of the tower. The templars rotated who patrolled and who cleaned their quarters each night.
I had passed my Harrowing and been promoted to a mage. One of the few willing to work with the fledglings, I had assigned myself to their rotation. I directed the children to collect the plates, tankards and utensils before taking them to the wash tub in the kitchen. The younger teens I instructed to straighten the chairs and tables after wiping and polishing them. I saw to the floors, a bucket of water next to me. I wiped sweat from my forehead as I scrubbed the stones.

"Miss Neria," one of the teens called, "We've finished. Can we go to bed, please? We can hardly keep our eyes open."

I discreetly rolled my eyes and hid a smirk. They had no design to go to bed, instead they were planning to sneak some desserts out of the kitchen and goof off in their dorm. I couldn't blame them; night was the only time the templars were more focused on keeping us in our rooms than what we were doing inside. So long as we stayed quiet, they generally didn't bother us. I myself hoped to finish a book I was in the middle of reading. I glanced around the hall and sighed, that most likely wasn't going to happen.

"Go ahead," Cullen's voice spoke as he walked through the door, "You have all got tests in the morning, yes? I'm sure Neria is happy to finish up so you can get plenty of sleep to be ready for your exams." He gave them a knowing smile, which elicited guilty looks from the children.

"What else would you like us to do, Miss?" Their voices were so full of guilt. I chuckled as their eyes met mine full of apologies.

"See that the little ones got everything into the wash tub, pump some water in for me and get the children to bed," I instructed, "I will finish up the rest. I expect excellent results tomorrow." A chorus of "thank you" and "yes, miss" met my ears as they scrambled to follow my instructions. I looked to Cullen as they left out the door. I noticed he was not in his armor, instead in a tunic and his leather pants.

He turned to me and rolled up his sleeves, "What can I do?"

I gave him a shocked look, "Don't you have your own duties to see to?"

"No," he shook his head, "I finished my cleaning responsibilities already. I was coming back from the library when I saw you all still in here and figured you could use a hand."

"I suppose I just sent away our help, so this is going to take awhile," I sighed as I stood.

"They would not have been help to you for much longer," he chuckled, "Too eager to get to their nightly activities."

I laughed as I headed to the cleaning cabinet. I put away the polish and rags before grabbing another scrub brush. I turned back to Cullen, who'd already set to work scrubbing the floor. "You don't have to help me, you know. Honestly, I doubt that you're supposed to help me."

He paused his work and sat up on his knees to meet my eyes. "What I'm supposed to do or not is irrelevant in this case. You need help and I have nothing to preoccupy my time. Aside from that, I consider you a friend. Why would I go to bed while you stay up for hours working to the bone cleaning a space we all use?"

"Because that's what the other templars would do," I mumbled.

"I am not them," he stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, this is my home as much as yours. Just because you must be here and I chose to be, does not mean you should be responsible for the brunt of the work."

I met his eyes, "You think of this as your home?" I bent to start scrubbing along side him.

"I do," he smiled, "Do you not?"

"I -," I had begun to say something that would elude to my past, so I stopped. "I suppose I do, though Solana says that kind of thinking is defeatist. Solana thinks this is a prison - us the prisoners and you the jailers."

"I hope that I do not make you feel that way," his brows furrowed.

"You don't," I acknowledged, "I just...I don't understand why you care."

"I do not want you to think I am a monster," he murmured and looked away, "Nor do I want you - want mages - to feel like they are monsters. The Maker created you, blessed you with magic to serve. I don't think He meant for you to be feared just because you have magic. It is man who has twisted the tenet and sown fear - both because some mages have chosen the path of the maleficar and because men fear what they do not understand."

"Aren't you bordering on blasphemy and insubordination?" I breathed. I could hardly believe the words coming from his mouth. They so echoed my own beliefs and to hear them coming from a templar astounded me. Irving bordered on blasphemy when we spoke privately, but he was a mage so I did not find it surprising when he shared those beliefs.

"I - I suppose that is a little too far to discuss openly," he pinked, "Don't get me wrong, I believe in the Templar Order. We are meant to protect and serve. I just felt that you would understand. I could never speak of those thoughts to the others."

"I do understand," I nodded, "I just don't think its wise for you to speak those thoughts aloud. Besides, you hardly know me."

"I know, but I - I'd like to know you better," he smiled shyly, "In-In case I didn't make that clear when we last spoke."

I blushed from head to foot as I recalled kissing his cheek. I'd had no idea what came over me other than the adrenaline rush from becoming a full-fledge mage. We'd had polite conversations here and there. Shyly looked at each other whenever we were in the same room. Even exchanged books, but never had we openly crossed the line beyond fraternization. I'd avoided him since that moment, embarrassed by my actions. "I - I, I apologize for -"

"- No apology needed," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "It was up to you if you wanted to talk. I understand if you do not - that is, I understand." He blushed and looked away, but not before I saw the disappointment on his face.

"That's not what I meant, Cullen," I chuckled. His gold-flecked eyes met mine, a loose curl falling into his face. "I apologize for not taking you up on your offer sooner."

He smiled warmly and we settled into a comfortable conversation. We scrubbed the floor and washed the dishes. We went from awkward stammering, to regular conversation, to joking back and forth. He splashed me with the water and I returned the gesture. We even snuck some desserts when we took a small break. It was well past midnight before we finished, but finally we made our way out of the refectory.

"Rutherford, what in the Maker's name are you doing?" Knight-Commander Greagoir's voice barked. We both froze in place. "Neria? One of you better explain what is going on here, now."

"It's my fault, Knight-Commander," I apologized, "I released the fledglings from their cleaning duty early. They have exams this morning and were in need of rest. Ser Rutherford was returning from the library and heard some noises. He came to make sure there was no danger and found me cleaning. I was finishing and he offered to walk me back to my room."

"Is this true, Rutherford?" Greagoir demanded as he looked between the two of us.

"Aye, Knight-Commander," Cullen confirmed, his face serious.

"Very well, but I will escort Neria back to her room," Greagoir commanded, "You, Rutherford, will take over my patrol for the remainder of the evening. Get your armor and return here."

"Aye, ser," Cullen saluted and hurriedly left.

"I expect better from you, Neria," Greagoir scolded once Cullen was out of earshot, "He's an excellent templar and you an excellent mage. You both have incredible potential. Do not thwart that potential with a foolish affair that will only end in misery for you both." He turned to me, his face hard, but his eyes understanding. "Life has dealt you a difficult hand, but I ask that you would make the most of it. Cullen can be part of that, as a templar, but no more."

"Yes, ser," I replied. Neither of us listened, but instead strengthened our resolve. I was shocked when Gregaoir agreed to let me go to Kirkwall, but seeing Cullen suffer seemed to take its toll on the older templar. Though he didn't sanction our friendship, he seemed to know that it might've been exactly what Cullen needed.

We were silent as Greagoir waited for Cullen's return. It didn't take long for him to return. His armor in place as he jogged to stand at attention before Greagoir. He put his helmet on and saluted. "Ready, ser."

"Good," Greagoir saluted, "Finish my patrol and you'll take this rotation for the rest of the day."

"Aye, ser," Cullen saluted once more and walked down the hall.

Greagoir escorted me to my room in silence. I thanked him and went to bed.

...

"Meira?" Cullen's voice spoke.

I startled and looked around. The barn. Mabari. Letters. I found one of the mabari laying its head across my outstretched legs. Cullen was crouched in front of me, concern coloring his features. I lifted a hand to my face and felt tears wet on my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away. "I'm so sorry, I lost track of time. How late am I?"

"Only a few minutes," Cullen assured, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I didn't meet his eyes, instead petted the mabari's head.

"They're fine animals," Cullen observed, his voice a little wistful, "I've always dreamt of having a mabari."

"It would suit you to have one," I chuckled, "You're very alike."

"Are you calling me a dog, Lavellan?" Cullen mocked offense.

"I just meant in your shared cuddly and loving nature," I reflected sarcastically and shrugged, a smirk pulling my lips.

Cullen barked a laugh before standing to offer a hand. "We need to get going."

...

We were camped a little ways from the templar hideout, hidden behind some rocks and bushes. Though "hideout" wasn't really the word to use as they'd chosen to camp a ways up from the main road, tucked in near a waterfall. They'd built some timber fencing to make choke-points and decrease visibility. What they didn't take into account was having no roof.
Leliana's people had been able to find and observe them just by getting a higher vantage point. Cullen had muttered in embarrassment about the ineptitude displayed by their setup. He'd told me the mages had set themselves up in a cave deep in the woods. The opening of the cave was so narrow it made an excellent choke-point to slow the flow of adversaries, but their was no other escape route. I wanted to say something about how mages and templars seemed to mirror each other in thinking, but held my tongue.
I sat drawing what Minaeve had requested as the sun slipped below the horizon. I was trying to keep my mind off what was to come. Cullen wanted to attack under the dark of night for both extra protection and to hide me. He said I would have an advantage with my elven eyes - I could see in the dark, the templars could not. I looked over my drawings, adding details here and there until I was satisfied.

"For Minaeve?" Cullen asked as he sat down beside me. He'd been double and triple checking that all the soldiers understood the plan.

"Yes," I smiled, "She admits that she's horrid at drawing and requested my help. I'm happy to oblige; drawing is one of my few passions. A skill I developed while Tranquil, but one I found I loved once free of the Rite."

"You are very talented," Cullen praised, "You should draw anything and everything you can."

"I would, but the Inquisition's supplies are limited. I don't want to use parchment and chalk for things that aren't necessary." I added a few more strokes to the anatomical diagram of the demon I was currently working on.

Cullen didn't respond, but instead watched as I finished up my drawings. He looked to the sky. "We should get moving."

We'd worked our way into their camp. The others silently eliminated the soldiers sitting at the foot of the incline, then the group at a fire before reaching the walls of the main camp. A few of the rogues silently took the watch guards down. We were hidden behind a couple of the timber fence walls when Cullen motioned for me to move ahead of him.

"What can you see, Meira?" Cullen asked.

I peeked my head around the wall and looked. There were a few tents, piles of supplies and several templars on bedrolls. That's when I saw them - their torn clothes unmistakably Circle robes. Ropes bound them to a tree in the middle of the camp. The two to the sides were limp in their bonds, but the one in the middle stood erect, her face unreadable.
A templar approached them, his head turning to both sides before he reached out to the one in the middle. He had a torch in his hand and as the light shone on her face I saw the Tranquil brand stamped on her forehead. Wounds were on her face, her robes torn at the legs, but she showed no emotions. I felt something light in my gut - dark, powerful and unfamiliar.
The templar held up a water skein to her mouth. I watched as she drank. Then another templar walked up to them, hitting the skein out of the first templar's hands. He smacked the Tranquil across the face before turning to his comrade. He spoke before punching the other templar and knocking him to the ground. The violent templar turned to the Tranquil, his hands reaching down to her torn robes as his other hand reached for her throat.
I felt as something deep within me opened both eyes and roared. Before I could even register what was happening, I raced forward. I didn't know wether I was screaming or they were as I cut through the entire camp of templars. Ice, lightning, and fire tore through flesh, sinew and bone.
If they attacked, I felt nothing. I razed their camp to the ground around the Tranquil tied to that tree. One templar was left and I stood over him, my eyes burning with hatred and rage. I held my ice blade to his throat. I didn't know what had made me stop, but I did.

"Please," he begged, "I was trying to help them. Every time I got close, they would catch me. They'd beat me and do something worse to them. I was trying to help." I looked into his eyes, terror within his dark irises. A feral growl escaped my bared teeth as I stared him down. He snapped his eyes shut, but didn't move for fear my blade would cut him. Terrified of me, I realized. I looked down at my sword: the ice was crimson from the blood I had spilt.

"Lavellan!" Cullen's voice roared now that I could actually hear it. "Do not engage the enemy until I give the order. Lower your sword."

He was livid, but his face quickly shifted to a look of shock. Finding the Tranquil tied to the tree, his eyes widened as he looked them over before they found me. The blood was still pounding in my body and my voice sounded foreign to me as I spoke in a tone nearing insubordination and saluted him. "Aye, Commander, my apologies, it won't happen again."

"Don't push it, Meira," the shock gone as he growled, "You got lucky this time, but your rashness could have gotten someone killed."

"My rashness?" I roared, "They've been attacking anything that moves! They have Tranquil tied up doing Maker knows what to them!"

"Yet," the word sliced like a sword as it rolled off his tongue, "instead of waiting for my command so that we could work in unison, you charged ahead. They could have killed the Tranquil you were trying to protect because you were alone." He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes darting to any recruits that got close. His face promised severe punishment to any who took another step further.

"My anger got the best of me," I crossed my own arms over my chest and looked away. My eyes met those of a decapitated templar and I quickly looked back to Cullen.

"Exactly my point," Cullen confronted, "Blinded by emotions, failing to see how your actions effect the unit as a whole. We were focused on trying to get to you and keep you safe instead of the threat. You should have been with us, acting as healer and observing, instead of sating your own bloodlust."

"Bloodlust?" I scoffed, but looked away again.

"Yes, Meira, you have bloodlust," his voice changed from angry to concerned, "You killed them without hesitation; with eagerness as far as I can tell. It is a darkness in you I have not seen before."

"I killed them without hesitation because they don't hesitate," I argued, but I could feel my conviction waning.

"Doesn't that make you equal to them?" Cullen questioned, his voice quieting, "You're no longer seeing the life, but only the enemy before you?"

"No one sees my life! No one sees that I have always been at the mercy of my enemies. I am and have been their object of ridicule, hatred, lust, fear and twisted logic!" I knew his words were true. I knew he probably understood them even better than I, but I refused to acknowledge the emotion curling inside my chest. It threatened to fill my lungs and crush my heart.

"The Maker sees, and it is Him who you claim to serve." It was as if he slapped me across the face, though his words had been quiet. "Are we to - am I - to ignore your brutality because life has not been kind or fair to you? Life is neither fair nor kind, yet that is not an excuse to take life for the sake of taking life."

"It's not as if I enjoyed it," I mumbled and looked at the ground.

"No?" Cullen questioned, "You could have fooled me." He spread his hands out to indicate the death around us.

It struck me then that I truly hadn't even thought about those I'd killed; I had enjoyed it. It was then also that I lifted my hands to my face, feeling something dripping from them. They were drenched with blood. As I stared, they began shaking. The blood was up my arms, on my chest and I felt it sticky on my face. I looked around at the carnage I had wrought. Bodies destroyed, faces maimed, everything burning. "Cullen?" I questioned, my voice akin to childlike terror. I lifted my face to his, feeling the blood drain out of it. "Oh, Maker." I watched his face shift to a mask of forced calm. Without taking his eyes off me, he sheathed his sword, put his hands up defensively and slowly approached. "Cullen, what's wrong with me?"

Cullen's gloved hands curled over my own. He didn't speak until I met his eyes. They were soft, but full of sadness. "Killing should be our last resort whenever possible, not our first. Self-defense and in the defense of others is one thing, but seeking it out - that's no better than what these rogue mages and templars have been doing. I don't mean to bring pain to you, but when all of this settles - if you continue on this path - it will come to haunt you. It will destroy you." He said those words with such familiarity I felt he had said them to himself numerous times before. He would know anger, know vengeance when he saw it because he had lived with those emotions himself.

Tears burned in my eyes. What is wrong with me? When did I become so callous? Did Alrik do more damage than I even realize? "I-I," stammered, but I had no words. That will only end in misery for you both. Disgusted with myself, I ripped my hands from Cullen's and walked into the shadows.

I was damaged goods, damaged beyond repair.

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