The first part of this chapter is happening simultaneously with the last chapter of Part One in order to fill in some gaps.
Happy reading! So good to be back!
POV may alternate within chapters going forward, so I will mark who's POV we're in at the beginning if/when POV changes.
WARNINGS: Blood and gore.
CULLEN
How had it come to this? We'd finally sealed the Breach. Finally answered the prayers of so many and I dared to hope the Maker had indeed bless the Inquisition. But now...our adversaries had picked the perfect time to attack. And we had not been prepared - I had not prepared us. Haven overrun, our people decimated and suffering. So many...we'd lost so many. My fault.I was their Commander, leader of our forces, military and tactical advisor...What a jest, what a fool I had been. I was meant to advise in warfare and yet I could not have predicted this? My fault.
I would make up for it the only way I knew how - giving my life. I would lead a few of the others out into the fray to load the last trebuchet. We would cut our way through in such a fight that we'd take as many of the monsters with us as we could. Holding out until that signal arrow was fired into the night, firing the trebuchet upon the mountain and burying the last of our enemy with us. Let mine be the last sacrifice.
Ushering the last of the people down below, I turned to stand before my able men, asking them to go to their deaths. Pride burned in my heart as they stood ready and willing; facing death unafraid as they resolutely raised their hands. I gave them their orders, told them to ready themselves, said the Maker was with us. All saluted me and I felt like a fraud at their loyalty.
I looked away to find...Meira. Her large, beautiful eyes were wide as she looked at me, fear and desperation in their light. I'm sorry, my love, but I must do this. You will find happiness. The Maker will watch over you. But I would die with the feel of her on my skin, after having said my goodbye. My heart pounding and gut twisting at her loveliness, I strode to her. Catching her hand in mine, I pulled her behind a stone pillar and crashed my lips against hers.
I knew I was coming across as desperate, that it was obvious I was saying goodbye, but I could offer her no comfort in this. I crushed her against me, my hands seeking out any part of her I could grasp. Digging into her hair, gently cupping her face, roving down her back and curves - wanting to memorize the exact shape of her.
Though she was scared, she let me kiss her, let me pour everything I had into the kiss. As if I could will everything I would miss, everything I wanted to have occur between us into existence through will alone. Then, selfishly, I thought I should let Ellana go just so I could live my life with Meira.
At the thought, pounding on the doors echoed in my ears. The stone floor and walls shaking with the power of the dragon's roar pulling me back to reality and setting the weight of my failure firmly upon my shoulders once more. Tearing away, I put my back to her, knowing if I looked at her, I would lose my resolve. Strapping on my shield and unsheathing my sword, I marched to Ellana. My Maker, know my heart.
The others swung the doors open, knocking the Red Templars back. Shouting their battle cry, they met our enemy. A few fell immediately, but the rest cut down the templars with Ellana assisting them before hurrying onward. I stopped at her side, irritated that she had not already left with the others.
"We'll load the trebuchets," I stated. My voice was empty, giving away the turmoil I felt inside. "We'll keep the Elder One distracted until you're above the treeline - send up a fire signal once you reach it. If they are to have a chance, I will let that thing hear me." It was a promise. If I was going to die, I was going to end it as spitefully as I could. I would meet my Maker trying to do all I could to make up for all the people I had failed.
"This Elder One wants me," Ellana emphasized. "He will not stop for anything - or anyone - but me. There is no point in you dying when he and his dragon will only come after me."
"We cannot risk you," I argued. "This is my duty. A few lives in exchange for everyone else? For yours that is so important? I mean nothing."
Ellana turned to me, a sad smile on her face. "I'm sorry, Commander, but you swore you'd care for my sister the way she deserves - you dying is not what she deserves."
Confused, I began to argue, almost missing the shift in her body language. She was going to run out there. No! I made to grab her, but with a burst of her magic, she sent me flying back into the Chantry.
Stumbling a bit before getting my feet under me, rage burned in my chest at her stupidity. Maker, Ellana! I told you I would go! I glared at her back as I watched her run out of the Chantry. I would go after her, I would pick her up and carry her back if I had to. Planning to do exactly that, I ran for the entrance.
Nearly tripping on my own feet in shock, I came to stop as I saw myself standing in the doorway. No, it wasn't me, but a near duplicate. Purpose. Meira had said he wore my face. I could feel the Fade emanating from him as he looked me over, his eyes pure gold as Meira had described. His face was mine, but Meira had not mentioned that it was perfected: no scars, no aging, and free of the haunting trauma I had endured. He was outfitted with armor that rivaled any king, his sword and shield of the finest make. Why is he here?
Meira appeared before me. My heart twisted at her beauty, our kiss behind the pillar still tingling on my mouth. Her face was dirty, her white-blond wig falling out of its updo, her armor burnt and ruined. She had been healed of her wounds somehow, except the burn on her thigh. Tear streaks cut through the ash on her cheeks where she had wept for Minaeve in my arms as I dragged her inside the Chantry, but her eyes were bright and full of so many emotions as she looked at me.
I looked at Purpose as he turned his back. I didn't understand why or how he was here. Why Meira still remained. I had said my goodbye, I couldn't do it again. She needed to go, to get out while she could. I would force Ellana to come back, no matter her words - no matter their truth - we could not lose her to that thing.
"Meira? What are you doing? Who is-" She met my lips with her own once more, kissing me with such passion it took my breath away.
I realized a second too late, too caught up in my own misery as I knew I would be going to my death. Knew I was never going to see her again, wanting desperately to savor every second I had left with her. Savor the feel of her lips against mine, of her in my arms. And she knew - she'd succeeded in her distraction as I felt her mana shift one second before she, too, pushed me away with her magic.
I dug my feet into the stones, not allowing her to throw me as far as Ellana had, but it still wasn't close enough to grab her as she backed out of the Chantry doors. I scrambled to get to her, my hand reaching out as I roared at her. My soul, my heart were cleaving in my chest, half of both going with her as she froze the ground beneath my feet.
I slipped on the ice, falling only to wrench myself back up. I was screaming at her - rage and despair warring in my chest. "Meira! Don't! Don't do it!" I could see the tears in her eyes as she looked at me, but her beautiful face shone with a smile so wide, so free, so happy. "Don't! Meira! For the Maker's sake, Meira, don't! MEIRA!"
Her lips moved, her eyes so full of love my knees felt weak. I was so close, if I could just push a little harder. Maker, take this ice! "I love you, Cullen. Always."
No! I would reach her, I would! "MEIRA!"
But as I cried her name - stretching my hand out, my fingers a breath away from her - a wall of ice erupted from the ground, cutting me off from her. No, no, no! Maker, no! Please, no!
I scrambled to the ice wall, I could just make out her form past it. I heard the fighting beyond, heard the dragon roaring overhead, felt my blood pulsing in my ears. Throwing myself at the ice, I shouted her name over and over as I pounded my fists upon it. If I had lyrium, if I'd been taking it - I could dispel this ice. I could've stopped her - stopped them. I could've met our enemy.
I continued to shout, my heart breaking, my hope snuffing out; everything else forgotten in the wake of the reality hitting me. The reality I was trying to deny. My shouts became sobs as tears poured down my face. She was gone and there was nothing I could do to save her.
I sank to my knees and wept aloud. I wept for her, for us, and wailed her name again and again until my throat was raw. I stayed like that, my body heaving with the sobs I let out.
Why? Why had she done that? Either of them? I am nothing. They are so much more important than me. Why, Maker? Why?! Why do I continue to live while others die? I am a wretch. A lyrium addicted, prejudiced, shame of a man. Yet you spare me - again - while the female I love goes to her death. Why? Why? WHY? Is it to torture me - is it the payment I must make for my sins? Why her? Why must shepay for what I did? Why? I slammed my fist on the ice, ignoring the pain. Silence met me, the Chantry empty of everything but my own cries echoing in my ears.
"Go, Cullen. They need you. If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you."
I jerked my head up. I'd heard her voice, as clear as if she were standing next to me. I couldn't see her beyond the ice, but that had been her voice. Full of warmth, full of love and though she'd said it softly, it was a promise. Please, Maker. Please, bring her back to me.
She was right, there was nothing I could do for her here. If I stayed, if I died - no matter how much I didn't want to go on living without her - I would be spitting on her sacrifice. If, by the Maker's grace she survived, she made her way back to me, then I had to live for that chance. I had to push myself for that chance.
Slowly, I stood. Forgive me, my Maker. You know loss. You watched as Your Bride was burned, yet now she is with You. If this was Your intention - Your design...I put a hand to the ice, picturing Meira in all her beauty.
She is yours, Maker, but please, if it is possible, bring her back to me.With that prayer, I let her go. Though I knew she was right, knew that I had to, I could not fight the feeling that I was abandoning them. Abandoning her. Forgive me, Meira.
I ran through the Chantry, throwing myself down the stairs, taking as many as I dared at a time. I thanked the Maker that my body was still feeding off the adrenaline coursing through my veins, willing it to stay, to stave off the weakness of withdrawal. I pounded down the stone hall, following the torches that had been lit along the way. Grabbing one before barreling through the now open pathway at the back of the cells. The path turned and descended, the air becoming colder as I progressed, the way marked by more torches along the wall.
Despite my prayer, I was angry. Despairing. Defeated. She'd pushed me away, she'd chosen to let me live, chosen to sacrifice herself for me - for Ellana. I knew that's what she would do, that she would ensure Ellana would live. It didn't matter to her if shelived, only that I did - that her sister did.
I clenched my jaw. Did she not realize that both of us only wanted for herto live? Yes, Ellana wanted to save the people of the Inquisition, wanted to give us as much time as possible by throwing herself at this monster, but she'd told me why it couldn't be me - I had to live for Meira.
And now? They would both die. I wanted to hope - even dared to - but in the back of my mind, I knew. Yet, I lifted prayer after prayer up to the Maker and his Bride.
I love you, Cullen. Always. I pushed myself harder, the tunnel I'd been in opening to an area with multiple pathways. Torches lined the room. Heaving in breaths, I looked around. There were remnants of the Inquisition's people - broken barrels, fallen hay, scraps of cloth, a child's toy - but they had pressed on. I walked further into the room and saw the opening to my left where I could spot the caravan of people.
A few soldiers were at the back, trying to get a broken cart to move. Knowing the way, I took a moment to douse the unnecessary torches, leaving alight only those that led to where we had exited in a vain hope. Picking up the child's toy and stuffing it into my ruined cuirass, I hurled myself out into the snow of the mountains.
We had to move, and quickly, once the avalanche came, traveling would be treacherous. I shouted for the soldiers struggling with the cart to leave it. I helped them strip it of its supplies before setting the cart aflame. No matter my doubt, I will leave a way for her - for them.
I pushed for the soldiers to move faster, snapping at their heels like some overgrown mabari. I was gruff, short-tempered, even bitter sounding to my ears, but I cared not. My beloved was down there, fighting to give us all the time she could and they were not moving fast enough. Maker, if I had a horse.
A little ways further, we came upon some of the others, who'd stopped to set up a small campfire. A tripod and kettle had been set over a fire, snow having been gathered to boil within. Rylen stood near it, a bowl in his hands and a grim look on his face as he stared at the flames. "What is this?" I growled. "We don't have time for this! We need to move."
"We're boiling bandages, Cul. For Bethany. Solana's doing her best to patch up her leg, but...," Rylen's jaw was clenched and his eyes flashed. "The most crucial thing she can do is to keep it clean and the bleeding stopped until she can see to it proper." Rylen ran a hand over his face. "What in the Void just happened, Cullen?"
"We've no time, Rylen," I shook my head. I failed, Rylen. That's what happened - you know it; I know it. "We've got to keep moving."
His brow knit. He looked me over and then looked around. "Wait, I thought...Where's the Herald? Where's your bonnie lass?"
A lump formed in my throat and I looked away from him. Meira as she stood outside the Chantry came to me unbidden - that beautiful smile, the tears in her eyes. I love you, Cullen. Always. Guilt gripped my gut. "I am not here by choice."
"Maker, Cullen!" he exclaimed.
"I'll bring the bandages," I stated, my voice hollow. "Get the others moving."
Rylen nodded after a moment of hesitation, pushing the bowl into my hands before he jogged off to order the soldiers to get the people moving. As there was little to pack, the group was on the move within minutes. Pulling my gloves off, numb to the cold as they were freezing already, I cleaned them before using the ladle to collect the boiling bandages. I left the kettle and fire going, another marker for them. Hurrying to find Solana in the middle of all the surviving mages, I was not prepared to hear Bethany's anguished screams.
"Someone help me hold her down!" Solana shouted, her voice tired and strained. Bethany wailed in earnest. "Please, Bethany," Solana begged. "You have to stop, you're going to make it bleed again!"
I shoved my way through the crowd. Solana was on top of Bethany, trying to keep her limbs from flailing around. Nausea flipped in my gut as I noticed her missing leg and the tourniquet tied around it. It was open at the bottom - muscle, veins, arteries and bone all exposed. There was a pile of blood-soaked cotton on the ground next to her and a discarded elfroot poultice.
Solana must have been in the middle of changing the bandages when Bethany had roused. She would die unless they got her to stop moving. Shoving Solana off, I got on top of Bethany and held her down. I could feel her mana writhing, getting ready to react spontaneously.
I stared down one of the cowering mages, "Get Barris!" They jumped at the sound of my voice, but ran off. I glared at Solana, "Get it done!"
Solana nodded and jumped at Bethany. Bethany wailed louder as Solana began dressing the wound, but my weight kept her still. I tried to block out the sickening squelching as Solana did what she had to. I murmured to Bethany, trying to calm her, but I knew it would have no affect - I was too agitated to be soothing. Her mana and all the mages' stirring up the thirst were not helping my agitated state.
"Commander?" Barris's voice spoke.
"We may have need of you," I growled. "Her mana is reacting to her pain."
"Aye, Commander," Barris said. The man studied Bethany and Solana with his piercing green eyes. He was exhausted and sorrow lined his face. We'd lost so many, the templars not untouched. His eyes returned to me and I looked away, sensing blame from him.
"There's so much pain. Maker, please help me. Help the pain stop. It hurts...it hurts," the voice of the demon boy came. I looked up to find him standing near Bethany's head. He stooped down.
"Maker, please. I don't want to hurt her. She's too sweet and has suffered enough." Placing his hands on either side of Bethany's head, he continued to speak.
"Please, Maker, Our Lady, please help me. I'm running out of strength and there's so many I can't...I can't..." Cole paused a moment looking into my eyes. "I came to help." His pale gaze looked to Bethany once more. "Sleep now."
Within moments, Bethany stilled, her face relaxing and mana quieting. She was breathing easier, an even rhythm as if she weresleeping. "Thank you, Cole," Solana breathed. "You can let her go now, Rutherford."
Removing myself from a now calm Bethany, I went to Barris. "Get your men moving. The Herald and Talitha are giving us as much time as they can."
Barris looked at me, a brow raised. "Why did they stay behind?"
"It was not my choice, Barris," I said through clenched teeth. "I was meant to stay."
Barris gave a slight nod. "It was not an accusation, Commander. I heard the exchange in the Chantry. Neither the Herald nor Talitha seem the type to follow orders."
"You have no idea," I sighed. "And now they'll probably be killed."
Barris looked me over, his brow knitting. "Have faith, Commander. If the Herald was truly sent by the Maker, by Andraste, Our Lady will not see her fall before this monster is ended."
I met his green eyes. So sure. I had to push back the accusation that he was only so calm and assured because of the lyrium flowing through his veins. I had to push back the envy that surged at the thought. The thirst. I resisted the urge to lick my lips as I smelled the lyrium upon him. "I pray you are right, Barris."
"The rest of us are allowed such fanciful ideas, Commander," Barris stated. "You have to be realistic - and lead us accordingly." He gave me a salute before turning to find the other templars. I watched him a few moments, wanting to take encouragement from his words, but I couldn't fight the guilt vining throughout my chest.
"Done!" Solana shouted.
I turned to Solana. "We need to move."
"Why are you here, Commander?" Her brows were furrowed as her coffee eyes searched the camp. "Where is the Herald? Where is Talitha?"
I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. Of everyone, Solana would place the blame squarely on my shoulders - where it belonged. "Just get people moving."
I turned away, but Solana grabbed my arm. "Where are they, Cullen?"
I shook her hand off and rounded on her - rage, bitterness, and guilt flaring. "Just do what you're told! We don't have time for your useless questions. Get Bethany secured and move!" Solana glared at me. A few other mages had flinched away from my anger. Seeing their fear and feeling even worse for my outburst, I rubbed my forehead. "Forgive me."
I stalked off, going to the nearby pines. The thirst licked up my throat and anger lit in my gut. Unsheathing my sword, I swung deep gouges into the trunks every few so often, showing the direction we'd taken. The group was on the move by the time I'd finished, nearly above the tree line. I circled around to the back, making sure there were no stragglers.
The climb up was steep, those weak or injured falling away from the others. Cooling my anger, I did my best to encourage them, to hurry them. I'd pick up those light enough or any children and set them on a nearby cart.
Pride once again surged as I watched the soldiers work efficiently and with determination - just as they had been trained. Together, they pulled the carts, carried supplies, lifted the wounded between them. And what had I done? Doomed the Herald and my love to die.
"Cullen?" Cassandra's voice sounded beside me as we neared the tops of the trees. "Wh-How...where is the Herald?" I met her dark eyes, shame in my own, but I couldn't answer. "She didn't." I gave a nod. "Maker, save us." Cassandra looked around. "Where's Talitha?" I closed my eyes tight, my knees threatening to buckle. "Cullen...tell me it's not true."
"I...I tried...I tried to stop them," I rasped out. Cassandra placed a hand on my pauldron, but I jerked away from her. "If I had been taking lyrium...If I had not been so selfish -"
"-Do not blame yourself, Commander," Cassandra growled, her eyes fierce. "The Herald is not a child; neither is Talitha. They made their choice."
I rounded on her. "No! I made a choice. I was supposed to die down there," I stabbed a finger towards Haven, "Not them!"
As I looked back towards the ruined village, I spotted that blighted dragon. Heard as it roared into the air. Cassandra and I both stopped, Leliana and Josephine coming to stand with us as the rest of the Inquisition split around our group. I could not spot Meira or Ellana, but I saw that the trebuchet was still intact and aimed at the mountain.
The dragon waited, it's tail swishing behind it as its master stood at its head. A few breaths later, I could just see the flare of Ellana's Mark coming to life. She's alive, but is Meira? We watched as she was flung at the trebuchet. Soon, everyone had stopped. The mountain yawning before us, silence falling as we all waited on bated breath.
"Cullen," Cassandra murmured into the silence. "We have to signal her."
Leliana had her bow readied, an arrow lit, but she could not bring herself to loose it. Her blue eyes met mine, for once not icy or void of emotion. There were tears there and an anger that mirrored - maybe even rivaled - my own. And guilt. She felt guilty as well.
I held my hand out in silent order for her to pass me the bow. No one else needed this burden upon them. It was my fault they were the ones down there. It was my fault that my love was suffering again. All of this was my fault. I had not prepared us enough. I had not fought hard enough. I had not led well enough. It fit then, that I be the one to doom them to death.
I raised the bow, aiming for the stars. Quietly, the Chant came to me clear as day: In the long hours of the night when hope has abandoned me, I will see the stars and know Your Light remains. If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you.
I hesitated only a moment, closing my eyes. Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What You have created, no one can tear asunder. Who knows me as You do? You have been there since before my first breath. You have seen me when no other would recognize my face. You composed the cadence of my heart. Of her heart.
With a deep breath in, I released the arrow into the night. Watching as it climb towards the heavens, I plunged my free hand into my pocket. Turning over Branson's coin, I hoped against hope that they would somehow make it. Knowing it was foolish, but hoping and praying despite my doubt. We watched in silence, my heart stopping in my chest, as the trebuchet released only two heartbeats later.
Draw your last breath, my friends. Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, and be forgiven. Meira! Meira! Meira! I love you. Forgive me. Forgive me. My heart twisting in agony, I listened to the thundering avalanche, watched as it flew hungrily down the mountain to swallow the love of my life.
Hatred flared in my chest as we watched the Elder One escape in the clutches of its dragon. It took all I had not to fall on my knees and weep as Haven disappeared beneath the snow and with it, any hope I had of a future colored with happiness. Instead of weeping, I looked to the stars and prayed for only the second time in my life that the Maker would grant me a miracle.
Turning that coin over again and again - despising that once again I was the one lucky enough to live - I set my back to Haven. Raising the torch in my hand high, I pushed my way through the people. Their spirit was broken - it was evident on their faces. Palpable as I shifted between them. Yet, I watched as Rylen, as Barris, as Cassandra, as Bull, as Blackwall and a few others took up torches and began the march deeper into the mountains.
Despair clawed at my heart, daring for me to give up, but deep within a voice whispered of hope. The Maker had brought her to me despite impossible odds once before; she'd clung to life when she should have died once before. Perhaps I would be lucky enough - would be blessed enough - to have her again. Andraste, Maker, please protect them. Let them find a way.
If she did return, I would never let this happen again - no matter the cost. I would serve this cause with all I had to give. I would love her with all I had to give. I would not run. I would never abandon her. I gripped that coin so tightly in my palm it cut through my damaged glove and into my skin. I swear it.
...
I led them up the mountain, ordering the soldiers to watch for stragglers. The avalanche had summoned a mighty snowstorm that was sapping what strength we had left. I pushed us, not allowing time for rest - if we stopped, if we rested, we would die in this cold. I ordered the soldiers to pass out blankets to only those most in need. Any falling behind were to be helped back to the group by two soldiers to avoid losing more people.
I now carried a child against me, tucked into the fur and fabric of my mantle. The mage girl I had calmed after her magic had gotten out of control in Haven. She'd bravely led the other children - Elolora and Camlen assisting them - after Sarah had perished, but exhaustion had claimed her.
Rylen had found Elolora struggling to carry the girl and Fioren, so he'd offered to take her; carrying her with him as he saw to his duties. He'd caught up with me and I'd offered to carry her for a time to give him a respite. Rylen remained at my side. I felt his gaze on me every now and again, but I refused to look at him.
I felt all their eyes upon me, blame and questioning sounding in their minds. Why was I alive, but the Herald dead? Why had I emerged and she stayed behind?
The blame fell at my feet and I felt it weighing upon me. Another link to add to the chain of blame I already held: Kinloch. Kirkwall. Haven. Their blame was well placed. I kept turning Branson's coin over in my pocket - kept praying though the words had been lost a hundred prayers ago, turning to no more than a feeling in my soul. Maker, please.
I had no idea where exactly we were going, but I knew from studying maps of the area that a pass was near, the split in the mountain before us the marker. Once we passed it, there should be a valley that could provide shelter from the storm. I would see to camp setup, guard rotations established, hunting parties sent out, firewood gathered, a water source found if possible - if not, there was plenty of snow to be melted down.
The child stirred in my arms, I patted her awkwardly, but she soon stilled and returned to sleep. Tightening her grip on the toy, a simple doll that she had dropped. We crested the incline, the valley spread out before us - a brief sense of relief easing the tightness in my shoulders. I handed the child back to Rylen, ordering him to continue down. I would make certain that everyone made it below before joining him.
"Get those able to see to camp - shelter first, fires second, guard rotations third," I ordered. "Food and water after that. Tally what we have for supplies before distributing rations - we must make what we have last as long as we are able. I will come see to it all once I assure everyone is with us."
"Aye, Commander," Rylen nodded. His blue eyes met my gaze, seeing far more than I wanted him to. "Just let me know when you want to go search for the Herald and your lass, I'll be joining you."
I stammered. He'd said it so passively, as if he believed - as if he knew - we would find them. Just as easily as Barris had believed they - or at least Ellana - would survive. Perhaps they would find a way - were able to surprise the dragon and its master. There it was again - hope. I feared giving into it, feared if I let myself..there would be no recovering if she did not return.
Before I could reply, he was already headed towards the valley. I waved people on, offering encouragement that sounded hollow to my own ears as their discouraged eyes met mine. A few reached out to touch my arm or hand, to say thank you. Thank you for what? For getting the only real hope we had killed? Cassandra and Leliana brought up the rear, anger in their eyes as they nodded at me.
"Is that everyone?" I asked.
"Everyone that was with us, Commander," Leliana spoke and I heard the double meaning in her words.
"Enough!" Cassandra barked. "It's done. We have people in front of us that need our focus."
Leliana and I glared at each other, but said nothing. I let the women pass. Staring down at the mountain, standing above the blizzard that had awakened in the avalanche's wake, I willed for them to stumble out of the howling darkness.
I knew it was foolish, but I could not stamp out the hope that continued to flicker in my chest, growing into a steady fire. If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you. I looked up to the stars, now visible once more. Oh Maker, hear my cry. I stared up at the innumerable lights in the darkness. Closing my eyes, I let out another breath of a prayer and turned.
The valley was in chaos as I reached the remaining people. Soldiers were running about seeing to the duties I had passed on to Rylen. The mages were yelling as they tended the wounded, shouting for supplies or assistance. The civilians and pilgrims had collapsed upon the ground: exhaustion, sorrow and broken spirits not allowing them to move any further.
My primary duties seen to, I pitched in to help: setting up makeshift tents for groups of people to sleep in along with a large tent for the healers and the injured; shedding my cuirass and gorget, I helped chop wood and start fires; passed out blankets and food. I noticed as Ellana's inner circle also pitched in - Bull and the Chargers doing any heavy lifting; Blackwall helping to chop wood; Sera and Varric were out hunting; Vivienne, Dorian, Solas and even Cole were helping with the injured. Cassandra stood with Leliana and Josephine, trying to establish where we were and where we were going to go.
I had to keep working, do anything to distract myself from the thirst that was growing, the hunger for lyrium burning in my belly; to distract from the despair and pain gripping my bleeding heart. Lyrium would numb the pain, dull the nightmares that are sure to come, give me the fortitude to go on. No. I was about to make my way towards the others to join in the discussion when someone approached my back.
"Commander," Mahanon's voice spoke behind me. I turned to the male, finding rage in his hazel eyes before he put a blade to my throat, shoving me into a crate. "Fenhedis lasa, shem. Did you even tryto save them? Or did you throw them away like they were nothing? Like all you shems do with us?" He snarled as he got in my face. "I swear by the Dread Wolf, if youcaused them to go to their deaths...ar tu na'lin emma mi."
"Mahanon, enough!" Elolora commanded, appearing as if out of nowhere. We both looked at her, surprised, finding her jade eyes as fierce as her daughters' could be. "I heard him, he offered to go in Ellana's stead - demanded it."
"Masal din'an," Mahanon hissed, his eyes on me again, his lip curled back.
"Mahanon! Fen'Harel maghilana," Elolora threatened, glaring at Mahanon. "You will step away from the Commander. Now."
"Not until he explains what happened. Why he lives when they died."
"They threw me back into the Chantry and sealed me inside," I growled at the male. "I tried to stop them. Tried to get to them. Ellana was determined to meet the Elder One. Talitha was determined to protect the Herald. I was not given a choice in the matter."
He seethed as he listened, glaring up at my face. Elolora came up to us, placing a hand on Mahanon's arm to lower his blade from my throat. "That is enough. Make yourself actually useful and hunt for food. Before you bring more shame upon me."
Without a word, the male slipped away. Elolora's eyes fell upon me, so like Meira's as they searched my eyes - seeing past the mask I wore, into my very soul. I had to look away from her, shame and guilt pooling in my gut. I felt a gentle hand on my cheek - a mother's touch. At the surprising ache such a gesture brought about, tears welled in my eyes and I dared to look at her. Her own eyes glistened with tears. "I do not blame you."
Relief and shame washing over me in equal measure at her mercy, I took her hand away from my face and held it between my own. "You should."
"Commander - Cullen," she murmured, her eyes flicking between my own. "I see how it is eating you. The guilt weighing you down. My daughters made their choices - they chose to save us, to protect each other." I looked away from her again, my jaw clenching, but she gently turned me to look at her, "To save you."
I looked over her face. She was exhausted, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. Little Fioren was not in her sling. Yet for the grief I saw, she was comforting me. Maker, there is no doubt this is Meira's mother. Her gaze softened even more as she saw through me. My gut told me she knew - she knew about Meira and I. In confirmation she murmured, "Love is a...tricky thing."
"No," I rasped, tears threatening to fall. "It was supposed to be me. They were to live - she was to live. She...she pushed me away. I could've spared her - spared them - but they chose..."
"Exactly, da'len," she smiled sadly, her face crinkling with wrinkles. "They chose. Embrace the time they've given you."
"Forgive me," I breathed, that guilt crushing me.
"There is nothing to forgive," she offered. "And for what it is worth, I do not think my daughter could have chosen a better man to give her heart to."
"I do not deserve such grace," I shook my head. "You know nothing of me...if you did...you would not feel that way."
She took my hand in hers, unaffected by the coldness of my skin, her eyes begging me to understand. "Our pasts do not define who we are, Cullen. It is what we do in the now."
I scoffed. "In the now? I caused our people to die because I did not adequately prepare them. And she went to her death in my stead and I could not stop her. How does that make me a good man?" I snarled, more to myself than to her. "A good man would have ensured this never happened. A good man would have ensured they lived, would have sacrificed himself for her - for them. A good man would have done more." The battle of the Gallows sounded in my ears, the smell of blood filled my nostrils, the cries of the mages tore at my heart. Those cries became the cries of the dying in Haven. Her cries.
"Cullen-"
I turned my back on her to go to my makeshift tent. I tried to ignore the stares of the others; the hopelessness within their eyes. The grief, the desperation, the confusion. My fault. My fault. If I had done more, if I had acted sooner, if I had stayed behind...it should have been me.
Thoughts came unbidden of them: broken, cold, alone. I clenched my jaw as I thought of her. Why? Why did you do that?
I heard the faint song of lyrium calling out to me and I had to swallow down the saliva that flooded my mouth as I marched into the tent. Hardly anything of mine had made it - how anything had or who had taken the time to retrieve it was beyond me - but upon the cot sat two things: the chess set Meira had gifted me and the box that held my stipend of lyrium.
I laughed bitterly as rage boiled inside. I started throwing things. The rage did not abate, so I paced, my shoulders heaving with the ragged breaths I was taking. I paced and paced, failing at my attempts to ignore the boxes on the cot.
I went to them, sinking to my knees. The adrenaline was leaving my body; pain, exhaustion, hunger, the thirst and my grief consuming me in its wake. Without even realizing, I had pulled the box of lyrium to me, opened it to pick up a philter before unscrewing the lid. I stared at the glowing liquid. My hand shook as I held the philter.
Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. I had faltered. I had failed her - failed everyone. Why does it seem that everywhere I go, disaster follows?
I glared at the philter. What does it matter if I start taking it again? Cassandra would understand. No one else even knew. If I started taking it again, I might actually be able to defend the people I was supposed to protect.
I licked my lips as my mouth watered in earnest, my heart thudding heavily in my chest as I wanted for the lyrium. Just a taste. Just as I was about to give in, I looked to the other box on the cot. Meira.
"Happy Birthday, Cullen."
I closed my eyes and went back to that night. She'd been so lovely, so happy. Her eyes sparkling, her body warm against mine, her lips soft. How she'd kissed me. I love you, Cullen.
Every kiss, every smile, every laugh played in my mind. Up to the smile she'd given me in the Chantry. If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you. I felt her in my arms. Pictured her in the Chantry, the brand angry on her forehead. Saw her in that cell. Watched as she trembled before her Harrowing.
All the pain I had caused her to endure. All the pain my inaction - my prior failings - had caused others to endure. I had made my vows: I would serve and protect. I would sacrifice. But I had walked away from the Order, that life and everything with it - except those vows.
Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.
If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you. That hope had not abated, a small voice told me to go after her - that they would not make it on their own. I had to take the chance, I had to try.
Screwing the lid firmly in place, I threw the philter back in the box and slammed it closed. Wrenching myself to my feet, ignoring the pain, I buckled my cuirass and gorget back on, tied my sword to my belt, strapped my shield to my back and strode out the tent.
I came to an abrupt halt as I found a group of people staring at me: Rylen, Cassandra, Varric, Henry, Elizabeth, Laren, Mahanon and Solas all stood waiting. Cassandra looked angry, Rylen had a smirk on his face that didn't reach his eyes, Varric gave me a sullen nod while Laren was fierce and Mahanon had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes averted. Solas was his usual stoic self, but there was a storm in his eyes he was barely containing.
Rylen stepped forward. "You done having a fit? Quit wallowing. The Maker spared them, I know it." He held a torch out to me. "Let's go find them."
...
MEIRA
"Wake up, Meira!" a voice yelled. Angry and demanding. "You're not getting out of this that easily."
I knew that voice, a piece of me wanting to go to it, but the rest of me wanted to stay in the warm bath of unconsciousness I'd been floating in. If I wake up, it'll be painful.Why couldn't I keep sleeping?
Meira, you need to wake up. A different voice. Just let me sleep. The pain became intolerable and then excruciating. The comforting dark rolled back and green glared beyond my eyelids.
"Wake UP!" That voice shouted.
I let out an anguished cry as I felt pain wracking my body. There was not an inch of me that wasn't broken. Flesh bruised, burnt and torn; muscles pulled and ripped; bones broken and protruding.
All threatening to overwhelm, to will me back to unconsciousness, but the pain that was unbearable came from my side. A blade. I flinched as I recalled the sensation of steel severing flesh. Felt the rawness in my throat from my screams. Why had I been cut? Darkness clouded again.
"Stay with me, Meira!"
I roused and cried out again as I felt cold hands moving around my broken body, trying to fix it and then feeling the burn of ice upon my flesh. I just wanted to sleep, to not feel any of this. Then I was being moved, dragged and lifted. I cried at the pain, whimpering and gasping as I slipped in and out of awareness. Stiff wood was at my back as I was laid back down, then cords were tied around my body to strap me to it.
That other voice gasped and cursed in an odd language before I felt the world moving, hearing a scraping sound beneath me. It was so cold here. An annoying dripping sound echoed all around while a constant howl sounded in my ears. Rocks crunched beneath unsteady footsteps. More cursing followed by heavy pants. Green continued to shine. Rocks turned to wood and my body shifted with an incline. I screamed out, slipping away again.
Coming to at a noise, I heard the voice say, "There!"
Our pace increased, despite their grunts of pain, warm light warring with the green. Then a chill filled the air, even colder than what it was already. Burning pain flowed through me as hisses sounded. Demons. A part of my mind working out what was going on, even as I still felt detached from all around me.
My movement stopped, but I heard footsteps rushing towards the malevolent presences, a defiant yell sounding that made my head pound. A great pulse filled the space, shrieks sounding before the malevolent spirits faded away. I heard panting, dragging footsteps and a sharp intake of breath before we continued on.
Earsplitting howls drew nearer as did a bitter cold wind. Curses sounded, a groan of frustration and despair on the air. We left the safety of the warm light to enter pitch black; frigid gusts clawing at us with the roar of a mighty blizzard.
The sound of wood scraping on wood burrowed into my ears, our progress stopping for a moment before we shifted. Slowly, my mover pulled us down into snow, but whatever I was tied to moved too fast and slipped. The speed caused me to black out once more as curses were swallowed by the wind.
I awoke to the howl of a wolf in the distance, but growing closer. Movement was slow, heavy breaths sounding from above me, the occasional whimper slipping out. I listened as the wood of my transportation creaked as it slid through the snow, the crunch and groans as Ellana's feet sank deep within. Ellana. My mind caught up, though it pounded painfully with the effort.
Ellana...saved me. How? We were both spent. I should...I should be dead.
I was shivering upon the sled she'd created, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up. Meira, stay with us. She needs you. He needs you. He? Cullen - Cullen needed me. I had to make it to him. We had to make it to them - to the Inquisition.
But I knew, my body was broken. She may have temporarily closed the opening in my side, but Ellana was no healer and I had lost too much blood. I was quickly giving in to hypothermia. Unless the Maker granted a miracle, I would soon be dead.
She stopped a moment, heaving in air. "It's c-cold. N-nothing."
"Ellana," I tried to speak, but barely had the strength to move my lips.
"M-Meira?" How she heard me, I had no idea - maybe she'd simply sensed me. I felt her come to my side, listened to the shifting of fabrics and felt as some were peeled away from my face. Her voice was shaking, her teeth chattering. I felt the wind whip around us, tearing at my hair, biting at my exposed face. "M-Meira, d-did you...speak?"
"Ellana," I tried again, but my tongue refused to cooperate.
A freezing hand laid upon my face, it shaking uncontrollably. "Hush." A wolf howled once more, closer than the last time. Ellana breathed in sharply. "May...the D-Dread...W-Wolf...t-take you...i-if...y-you t-try...anything."
We continued on, stopping here and there, Ellana talking to herself as she slowed even more. I listened to her hum, trying to keep herself awake. She began to sing, her voice pleasant to my ears despite its shaking.
"T-tighten...the rig with...the H-hearthkeeper's k-knot. T-topsail, st-staysail...and m-main. The t-traces tie...to the girth...and the c-collar...and the collar is t-tied to the...rein. Say...thrice the p-prayer to...Ghilan'nain to q-quicken...the white halla's t-tread. B-break c-camp... before...the last s-star...has f-faded...to chase the...b-bright d-day ahead. A...th-thousand...m-miles beneath the...wheels...sails against the s-sky. Swifter than...a d-dragon's flight..the P-people are...p-passing by!
"The r-rein...you m-must hold...in your left hand...In the r-right hand...your d-dagger or bow. If the...s-shemlen should...s-strike on your...journey, s-send them to...Falon'Din...below! The path...we b-beat...is the p-path...we w-walked...to flee...T-tevinter slums. N-now we fly...on wheels...and w-wings...and h-hoofbeats...are our...d-dreams. A th-thousand...m-miles...b-beneath...the...w-wheels, sails against t-the s-sky. S-swifter than...the f-fall of n-night, the P-people are...p-passing by!"
Her voice grew hoarse, her forming words more difficult, but she continued - singing louder as if to drown out the howl of the blizzard. It was Mother's lullaby next.
"Elgara...vallas, d-da'len...melava s-somniar. M-mala...taren aravas...ara m-ma'desen...m-melar. Ir-iras ma...ghilas...d-da'len...ara ma'nedan ashir?
"D-dirthara... lothlenan'as... bal... emma...mala...d-dir. Tel'enfenim...d-da'len...irassal...ma...ghilas. Ma...garas mir...r-renan - ara...ma'athlan...vhenas. Ara...ma'athlan...vhenas." The comforting sound lulled me to sleep as she continued to sing over and over, unable to keep myself awake any longer as pain gripped me.
Rousing only briefly, Ellana was no longer singing Ma's lullaby, but screaming at the wind. Her screams were in elven, but her words were broken, bitter, and full of a weariness beyond her years. She cried out to the gods, cried out to the wind, cried out to anyone who would hear her. She wailed, no words coming now, just a broken, wordless plea.
I heard the snow crunch as she sank to her knees. The emotion tearing from her chest cutting at my very soul and I cursed my broken body that I could not comfort her. Oh, Maker. Comfort her. The snow crunched some more as she groaned in agony, gasping at every movement she made as she stood.
Pressing on, she began to sing a different song. "M-melava...inan e-enansal ir su...a-araval tu e-elvaral...u na e-emma a-abelas. In...el-elgar sa vir...m-mana in tu...s-setheneran...d-din e-emma...na. L-lath...s-sulevin...l-lath...a-araval...e-ena...a-arla… v-ven...t-tu...v-vir...m-mahvir...m-melana...'nehn...e-enasal...i-ir...s-sa...l-lethalin."
Ellana was sobbing again by the end and my heart broke for her. I wanted to tell her not to cry. The cold would freeze the tears upon her skin, but she stopped soon enough on her own. I heard her let out a yelp of pain after the last word, a great crunching of snow followed. The sled slid and jerked as it caught on something. The jostle splintered pain all over my body and I blacked out.
When I next regained consciousness, we were not moving. The wind still howled, but it was not tearing at us any longer. I could not hear Ellana, but something heavy and shaking was upon my chest, making it difficult to breathe. Shallow breathing issued nearby, but I could not discern which direction it came from.
Beyond that, a warm presence was at my head; a wet nose pressed against my face as something sniffed. The wet nose pulled away before a howl sounded in my ears. The heavy thing upon me twitched. Snow crunched, a great huff sounded as that warmth stayed near. The pain became unbearable as that weight grew heavier upon my chest, pressing at the wound in my side and I slipped away once more.
...
CULLEN
No one stopped us as we made our way out of the now functioning camp. Cassandra had told Josephine and Leliana that we were going to search. The women had said nothing, only nodding their heads, defeat and anger in their eyes.
It was foolishness - we all knew, but we had to go. If I stayed in that tent, I'd take the lyrium and never stop. The rest of the group had hope, had faith, that the Maker and his Bride had spared them. I, too, dared to hope, to have faith, despite my every fiber telling me to give up.
Yet, I had seen the Maker work in my life too often to doubt - to fully doubt - that he was in this. Pulling on any extra layers that could be spared we walked beyond the light of the fires and braziers. I held the torch aloft as we climbed the hill, cresting it to pass through the split in the mountain.
I could feel the others' eyes glance my way every now and again. I wondered how long they had stood outside my tent. Had they heard me breaking things? None of them spoke, however, not even Rylen. Instead, as we made our way back down the mountain, they began calling out to them.
What felt like an eternity passed, our progress slow in the deep snow. The howl of the dying blizzard was our only response as we called for them. We kept going, sticking close, but covering as much ground as we could.
I called out, each silent answer making my heart beat heavy in my chest. Please, Maker. Please, Meira, just hold on. My exhausted eyes roved over the drifts of snow, hoping that they had not been buried beneath it. We would have to turn back soon or we'd all risk hypothermia.
We were between the trees and the mountain pass, despair gnawing at my mind. As I looked into the darkness, hope still daring to flicker within me, my mind began playing out my every failure. Kinloch. Kirkwall. Haven. Broken. Coward. Fool. I heard the demons' whispering, heard the cries of the mages I'd condemned, heard the screams of the people of Haven.
I imagined what had happened to them; imagined Meira's beautiful form broken beneath the snow. Cold, afraid, alone as she cried out to me - cried out to the Maker. My fault. My fault. The thirst for lyrium grew until I could think of nothing else.
"It's not your fault," Cole spoke, appearing out of thin air at my side. "They chose to fight. They chose to leave you behind. Just like Greagoir. But not. They did it to save you - he did it to save himself."
I whipped my head to him. "I thought I told you to stay away from me."
"She didn't," Cole said quietly.
"'She'?" I questioned, hope flaring.
"She's so broken. Creators, Maker, anyone - someone, please. She doesn't deserve this. I'm not going to make it, I'm not going to make it - so cold, so very cold. Please, Meira. Please hold on, just a little longer. Just a little longer...just a little...".
The boy's voice had changed, as if he were speaking for someone else. "I'm so sorry, Ellana. I had to save you - save him - save you both. You should have left me. They need you. Oh, Maker, I just want to sleep. So much pain. Every breath agony, every heartbeat a struggle... Oh Cullen, my love. Forgive me. Don't blame yourself - if nothing else, don't blame yourself."
My heart was beating wildly in my chest. Cole's eyes turned to me. "Why do you blame yourself, even though she tells you not to?"
Maker, did you truly spare them? "Cole, where is she? Where are they? Take me to them!"
Cole's eyes grew unfocused. "So close, so close, but they grew tired. The other fell down in the snow, crawled to her as howls tore from her chest. I tried to lead them, but they were afraid. Perhaps I can keep them warm? I can smell others. Will they come, will they know? I must let them know." A great howl sounded directly in front of me and I saw it: the tiniest glimmer of green - the green of Ellana's Mark.
"There! It's her!" I shouted as I raced for that light.
How? How had they lived? How had they escaped? How did they make it through the blizzard?A part of the Chant came unbidden: Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing, an ocean of sorrow does nobody drown. You have forgotten...Within My creation, none are alone. I paused for only a moment, stunned. Maker, thank you.
I tripped in the snow a few times, but didn't stop. Silver eyes met mine as I drew closer - silver eyes of a wolf. For a moment, I feared it had killed her, but I realized it was only laying near. It stood and moved aside to reveal her - to reveal...Ellana laid overtop of something - someone - strapped to a makeshift sled. I caught the whisper of silver hair shining in the light of the torch where it peeked out from the folds of fabric they were wrapped in.
My knees gave out in relief as I realized it was Meira beneath Ellana's prone body. She'd thrown herself over Meira in a last effort to keep her warm before succumbing to the cold. I crawled towards them. Meira. Meira. Forgive me. My fault. This is my fault. Why do you blame yourself, even though she tells you not to? Because this is my fault.
"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra cried as they raced to me. Ellana was shaking violently, her breathing shallow. One of her shoulders was obviously dislocated, her collarbone broken, the shaft of an arrow protruding at her shoulder, cuts and bruises peppering her exposed skin along with frostbite.
Solas sank down and examined her. Despite his calm demeanor, his voice was strained. "I sense no grievous injury. We need to lift her, gently." He bent to help Rylen and Mahanon slowly remove her from atop Meira.
Gasps sounded as Meira was revealed, a gust ripping away the covering Ellana had fashioned. Maker. Oh, Maker. Her hair was like moonlight splayed upon the snow, except where blood had turned it black as it had congealed in the blizzard. She was frostbitten despite Ellana's attempt to shield her from the wind. Deep gashes marred her face along with burns. But the worst, the worst of the damage... Oh, my love. My heart.
Crimson had seeped into the snow from her mutilated side where a blade had nearly severed her in two. Meira. Meira. It was poorly closed and angry looking, as if Ellana had attempted to heal it, but had been unable to do so correctly. What hadn't been healed was frozen with ice. How Meira was still alive...limbs bent at wrong angles, the broken shafts of the bones exposed; her body nearly split in two; cuts, bruises, burns.
Ellana had minor wounds in comparison, but they were still severe - too severe to have climbed a mountain while pulling another. How had they survived? Maker. Andraste. Only by your hands.
Meira had protected Ellana, that much was obvious. She had taken the worst of the damage from whatever they had faced. My fault. The wolf stayed seated by Meira, licking her face every now and again. Is this the wolf she saved all those months ago? I unsheathed my dagger and went to cut the ropes, but a hand was on my vambrace.
I looked up to find Solas's eyes on me. "If we remove her from the sled, she will succumb to her injuries. I do not think we should continue to pull her however. Perhaps we can fashion some poles at camp?"
"Come on, Iris," Varric muttered as he looked at Meira. "You're so close."
"Meira," Elizabeth whispered, her brow knit and hands clasped in prayer. "Maker, please. Let us help her. Help them."
"By the Maker," Henry swore, raking a hand through his hair. "How did they - how did she - survive? She...she should be dead."
Mahanon and Laren cursed and muttered in elven as they took in their family members, but I ignored them all. "What should we do?" I asked, my voice sounding desperate to my ears.
"Laren, Mahanon, and I will get the Herald back to camp," Cassandra ordered. Mahanon opened his mouth to argue,, to which Cassandra glared and put her hand on her sword. "Do not test me, elf. You threatened the Commander's life not hours ago - you're lucky to even be upright at this moment. You think I would leave you with him? I only allowed you to come because they are your family." The elf male closed his mouth and nodded in resignation.
Cassandra looked down at Meira before meeting my eyes. "I will tell Solana and Dorian to be prepared and send Laren back with a way to move her safely. Solas, do what you can for her until Laren returns." Mahanon gathered Ellana in his arms and moved as quickly as he could atop the snow. Cassandra and Laren were on his heels.
Solas turned his attention upon Meira, examining her wounds. "There is not much I can do beyond providing her with warmth with what little reserves I have left."
Feeling helpless, but praying to the Maker that I could do something, I removed my fur mantle before gently tucking it around her. I removed my gloves and as carefully as possible, slid them over her dainty hands. That done, I bent to Meira.
Varric and Rylen turned their backs to give us some privacy. I stroked her hair back from her injured face. "Meira, my love," I whispered, "I'm here. You've made it. The Maker brought you back to us - to me. Just...just hold on a little longer." Her lips moved, but no words came out. "Please, my love."
"She hears you," Cole spoke, appearing across from me. "She doesn't know if you're real, but she likes your voice. It makes her want to stay."
Growing desperate at the boy's last words, I kept at it. "Meira, my love, my darling. I love you so much." I put my forehead to hers, tears spilling down my face as I lowered my voice to an inaudible whisper. "I am not worthy of you. I have not loved you as I should, but I will spend every moment of my life trying to make up for it." I breathed shakily. "Please, Maker. Let her live. Even if...even if I should not have her...even though this is my fault...let her live. Oh Maker, hear my cry. Only You can save her now, only You."
I caressed her cheek, careful not to disturb her cut skin. "Meira, you're so strong. So beautifully strong. Just hold on. Hold on, my love." I continued to murmur softly to her, drawing comfort from the breaths she was taking, the puffs of white against the midnight sky. I sensed the wolf next to me, it emitting a soft whimper now and then. A part of my mind wondered why it was here, how it had found them.
We heard Laren's footsteps crunch upon the snow as she came with poles in hand. Laying them upon the ground, we tried to decide where best to place them to carry her with the least amount of movement. Once that was decided, we worked them through the sled. Every second that passed by, I could only grow more desperate.
I knew we were running out of time. She'd lost too much blood, was too cold and in too much pain to keep fighting. I thanked the Maker again and again, despite my guilt, for bringing her back to us - to me. I was unworthy of such a blessing, but...Oh, how I love you, Meira. How You care for me - for her, my Maker. We bent to lift her.
"We cannot jostle her," I barked. Rylen nodded his head to me. He would carry her at the front, while I would carry her at the back. Solas would stay at her side to keep her warm. Varric and Laren would ensure we had a clear path. "On three," I ordered. "One. Two. Three!"
With her up and us able to move, we set as fast a pace as we dared, the wolf at our backs. Maker, please. Please, let her make it. Let them save her.
The snow was unforgiving, the cold seeping through my leathers and pulling at my feet. We did our utmost not to move her around too much, but with every dip, every sway, she would let out a cry. It tore at me to hear her in such pain, but I knew she was still fighting at the sound.
The camp was abuzz with news of the Herald's return as we made our way through, hope flickering amongst the Inquisition once more. Varric stayed with Cassandra, who was busy keeping people away that were attempting to gawk at the Herald. We burst through the flap of the healer's tent, finding Solana and Dorian within as they worked on various patients. Solana on Bethany and Asaala, Dorian on Chancellor Roderick and Ellana.
Vivienne and the other mages had been outside the tent, working on wounded soldiers and civilians. Solana whipped her head up to us, her blond hair braided down her back, her coffee eyes full of fear and determination. Blood was flecked all over her, her dress soaked with it as she rushed over, gesturing to a nearby table.
"Solas, look after Ellana. Dorian, check on Bethany and Asaala," she ordered the other mages before turning back to us. "We need to get her off the sled," Solana instructed as she set her hands aflame, clearing her skin of any blood or grime. She ordered me to cut the ropes. "Cullen get her shoulders, Rylen her feet, Laren pull her from her side while I slide the sled out from underneath her. We need to move quickly and uniformly. On three."
This was going to be agony for Meira. I prayed she had slipped into unconsciousness. "One. Two. Three."
As one, we moved her. The agonizing scream that ripped from her throat - the hoarseness revealing how much screaming she had done before we found them - lacerated my heart. She was not out of danger yet, but she was here. She had made it here. They both had. Only by Your hand, my Maker.
"Maker's tears," Solana gasped as she took in Meira's injuries. Her eyes flicked to me before they met Laren's concerned gaze. "This is not going to be an easy road. You need to go to your family and tell them what happened. Tell them I will do everything I can to save her, but this...this is not good." Laren looked over Meira and then glanced to Ellana. "The Herald will be fine. Her injuries are easily fixed - even without magic. Hypothermia is her immediate concern. Recovery will be the worst for her." Laren nodded after a moment and left.
Solana looked to Rylen, "Captain, I need Bull in here to act as a heater for Ellana. Hypothermia is her current issue. Find him, will you? After that, see to setting up a tent for the two of them - small, two or three braziers, cots and as many blankets and furs as can be spared. Get some snow boiling or fresh water if we have a source so we have warm fluids to give them. Once the tent is erected, we'll move them inside." Solana's dark eyes fell to me as Rylen went to do as she'd instructed. "You are only allowed to stay if you help. You try to interfere, you faint, you vomit, you're out and not permitted back in until I say. Understand?"
I nodded. "Save her, Solana."
"Only the Maker can save her now, but I will assist Him as much as I am able." She looked Meira over a moment. "I need you to cut away her clothing."
"W-what?" I stammered.
"All of it."
"I-" I swallowed. I drew my dagger, but hesitated.
"Cullen," her eyes flashed, "Now is not the time for your bashful ways. Do it or get out."
I swallowed again and leaned towards Meira, but still couldn't bring the blade close to her. Solana growled and grabbed my hand to take the dagger. When she made contact with my skin, she recoiled. I quirked a brow at her as she studied me. Shaking her head, she once again ordered me to cut away Meira's clothes. Doing as she directed, it allowed her to peel everything off of Meira without moving her too much.
As the layers were peeled away, I understood why Solana wanted her stripped of everything. There was not an inch of her that had not suffered. Lacerations, bruises, breaks, but where they'd tried to eviscerate her was even more grotesque to look upon when laid bare in the light. Blood still remained upon her skin, even more seeping beneath it.
Underneath all of that, the evidence of Alrik's torture still remained. Maker's tears, Meira. Anger burned in my gut for her. I pray you're suffering, Alrik, that your soul is doomed to forever wander the Fade.
Just as quickly as it had been roused, my anger dissipated. My fault. If I had done my duty…Never blame yourself for that again. My mind went to that evening in my tent, when she'd struggled after we'd kissed. My heart broke when a thought came to me.I want you to court me. Have I been no better than him? Have I merely used her for my own…instead of loving her as she wants me to? As she deserves? As I imagined I would?
I looked away, not wanting to see things Meira was not ready for me to see. I shouldn't even be here. I'm the reason she's in this state. I'm the reason she has those scars. I started to back away. "Solana, I...I can't -"
"-If you leave her now, you're a coward and your feelings for her are a farce. If you care for her, you will stay and you will help." She bared her teeth at me as she snarled those words. "Andraste's pyre. What in the Void happened to her?"
"What is it?" I asked. Did Solana not know?
But her attention was entirely on Meira's side. "I'm going to have to reopen this wound, but she could die if we don't sedate her somehow." Solana took a moment to think. "Where is Cole?"
"Broken. Bloody. Burning. Please, make it stop. Maker, make it stop! I just want to sleep. Agony, agony!" Cole's panicked voice spoke as he appeared at Meira's head. He placed his fingers on her forehead. "Sleep now. She will heal the hurt. She knows how." Cole met Solana's eyes. "You remembered."
"I did, Cole. You helped, Bethany," Solana nodded. "Thank you."
Cole looked pointedly at me. "I helped. I came to help." With that, he disappeared.
"I was saving these for if the Herald returned with grave injuries, but...she's fine." I heard something open, Solana swallowing and then felt it - the song. It was faint, different as it was a mage's potion, not a philter. The thirst clamped down on my throat as my body begged for lyrium. I forced it away, but still it demanded. "Cullen, are you with me?"
I looked to Solana, her eyes held concern as she studied my face. I nodded. "Yes."
"I need you to hold her down, just in case," Solana instructed. "This is going to be excruciating. Solas. Dorian. I need your help over here."
"A little busy at the moment. Dressing the Qunari's wounds." Dorian sang.
"I am nearly finished seeing to the Herald," Solas replied.
"Get over here and help me," Solana growled. "They can wait. Talitha will die if she is made to wait any longer. She's bleeding on the inside and I need to get to the wound."
They made their way over to us, both disgruntled, but understanding. "Cullen, hold down her shoulders. Dorian, her legs."
I swallowed thickly, but placed my hands upon Meira's shoulders. Dorian came to hold down her legs. Magic flowed between her hands before she placed them on Meira's side, melting away the ice. Blood began running. Solana grabbed a clean surgical blade and plunged it into Meira's ruined side. Meira flinched against my hands, but made no sound. I was beginning to worry; her face was ashen, her breathing shallow.
Old, clotted blood oozed out where she cut. She kept cutting and cutting, my stomach flipping as I felt Meira's body moving with the blade. Fresh blood spurt all over - covering Solana and splattering onto the rest of us. Thankfully, Meira did not wake.
"Well, that was disgusting," Dorian groaned. "It'll be impossible to get this out of my robes."
"Cullen, get a torch and bring it close. I need to see," Solana instructed as she gestured to her other potion. "Solas, drink this lyrium potion. I may need you to shock her heart. Dorian, see to the others."
Her heart? "What do you -"
Solana's eyes flashed at me. "No interfering, Rutherford. Just do what you're told. I've no time for your useless questions." I flinched as she hurled my own biting words at me. "Solas, can you do what I've asked?"
"Indeed," Solas inclined his head. "But you should know it is difficult to focus lightning to that minute of a level."
"I know you can do it, Ellana has recounted your skill. I am not losing anyone else," Solana promised. "The others are stable. I am no good with storm magic. There is...another way, but I would not use it unless absolutely necessary."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Are you suggesting -"
"-I would never use blood magic, Cullen," Solana growled. "It is...a complicated bit of magic and not to be used lightly, but it would work. It would bring her back. I, however, do not know how to perform it. Do you know it, Solas? A revival spell?"
Solas hesitated in answering. "I do." Solas glanced at Meira. "Let us hope such a spell is not needed, but if so, I will indeed be able to revive her."
Solana nodded. I was confused as to what they were discussing. Revive her? Bring her back? A spell Solana did not know, but Solas did and seemed wary of performing. Using lightning on her heart?Solas downed the potion and I had to swallow down saliva as I heard the song. I caught Solana's eyes on me again, but I ignored her as I grabbed a torch and held it where she instructed.
The damage was worse in the light. I knew the likelihood of Meira surviving this - even if they did succeed in healing her - was minimal. Too much was ruined and it had been open too long that infection was inevitable.
In amazement, I watched as Solana worked her healing magic and I was stunned to see Meira's body renewed within her side. Damaged and frostbitten tissue turned healthy and whole, organs closed, veins and muscles reconnected. Flesh wove into place, closing the gaping wound, knitting together until not even a scar remained.
Solana was panting with the effort, but she moved on to her broken limbs, resetting the bones, where they pulled back inside her body. Nausea rolled again, but I refused to vomit. Those corrected, she moved on to Meira's face. Deep gouges were in her forehead, cheeks and chin, as if she'd been hit by shrapnel; burns that were an angry red. Solana's hands glided over Meira's skin, the injuries closed, the burns healed - fresh skin forming.
"Thank the Maker this isn't dragon fire," Solana panted. "Or there'd be no healing it, like the burn on her thigh." I glanced to her legs, but quickly looked away, remembering that she was bare. Solana stepped back, finished. Just as she was about to speak, Meira's back arched for a moment before her arms flexed into her chest, her hands clawed over her heart. Her legs straightened, her toes pointed inward. "No! No! No!" Solana panicked, her hands going to Meira.
"What's happening?" I asked, fear choking me, but Solana didn't answer.
Her hand was over Meira's heart, her other on her forehead. "Solas! Do it! Her heart stopped beating!"
No! Maker, please! Solas stepped forward, placing his hands over Meira's chest. A single, tiny bolt of lightning sparked from his palm to her heart. Meira jolted with the magic, but her body remained in its rigid position.
"Again!" Solas did as instructed, still Meira did not respond. Maker, please. Please! Please!
"Come on, Meira. Come on! Again, Solas!" Solas shocked Meira one more time. Come on, my love. Fight! Stay with me! "Her heart is beating, but it's faint!" Solana cried. "Solas...the revival spell!"
Solas hesitated a moment and glanced to where Ellana lay. Letting out a breath, he stepped forward, staff in hand. I felt as his mana shifted around him, the Veil becoming thin. A glyph appeared beneath the table Meira was laid upon. Things began pressing against the Veil before passing through it. Solas was muttering under his breath, his eyes closed as spirits surrounded Meira. Light shone all around her, pouring from the spirits.
Solas slammed his hands together and that light filled Meira's being, shimmering beneath her skin, shining from her every pore. The Veil shifted, turning even thinner as Purpose appeared, offering his own light as he placed a hand upon her forehead.
What in the Maker's name is this? Solas separated his hands, magic flowing between them before pressing them down upon Meira's chest, all of the light being drawn into her heart. I watched in awe as Meira gasped, her eyes flying open as the light dissolved. By the Maker.
"That's it, good girl," Solana sobbed as she cradled Meira's head. "Good girl."
Solas finished his spell, leaning heavily upon his staff as he heaved in air. "It was successful."
"Thank you, Solas," Solana smiled broadly at the elf male, tears shining in her eyes. "Please, rest now." Solana went back to work on Meira as Solas went to sit, healing magic flowing from her palms once more.
"I do hope that was necessary, my dear," Vivienne called from where she had entered the tent, Bull behind her. "That is not magic to be used lightly."
"Her heart stopped, Vivienne," Solana hissed. "Solas -"
"- Solas is an unwashed apostate hobo," Vivienne jutted her chin. I heard Dorian snort in the background as Solas protested to such an assessment. "Let us hope he performed it correctly."
Solana glared at Vivienne who smiled coldly before gesturing to Ellana, telling Bull he needed to keep her warm. He settled onto the cot, pulling a still shaking and now bandaged Ellana to his front to provide heat with his massive body before covering them in furs.
He caught me looking and flashed a smirk. I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to Meira. Her body had relaxed, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "Solana, what was that?"
She quirked a dark brow at me. "You don't know?" I shook my head. "It was a revival spell. To be used only in the gravest of emergencies - even then we normally don't use it. It calls spirits from across the Veil to pour spiritual energy into the dying - but the person cannot be dead. Magic, on its own, cannot bring people back to life - not any goodmagic anyway, and definitely not truelife. Once someone has journeyed across the Veil, they cannot be brought back." Solana set to work slathering elfroot poultices upon Meira's skin where he worst injuries had been and wrapping her in bandages.
Maker. "H-how do you know it's...only her they revived?"
Solana's dark eyes met mine. "That is how the spell was crafted. It only works on the body and soul of the same being. They must be connected and the person must be willing. If M-Talitha did not wish to be revived, she would not have been. Her heart would have ceased its beating, no matter what we attempted. The glyph protects from possession. The spirits are benevolent, lending aid because they are either Compassion or a spirit of the like."
My head spun trying to think about it. "Why were you unable to perform it?"
"It is a spell taught only to First Enchanters within the Circle. If it is performed incorrectly - a single symbol in the glyph wrong - it can kill the person you intended to save," she explained. "It takes significant power, control and you must know how to use it. Not only how to manipulate the Veil, but also write the glyph." Solana straightened, glancing at Solas. "From our few discussions and what Ellana has told me, I guessed that Solas would have the knowledge of how to use it - more so the ability. If not, I would have had to ask Fiona or Vivienne - no doubt leading to questions as to why Talitha is so important as to perform such magic. Thankfully, that was not necessary. Did I explain the spell correctly, Solas?"
The elf male nodded. "A simplified version, but yes, that is the overview of it. I am surprised you knew of it."
Solana had the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "There are certain perks to leaving the Circle and working alongside apostates in healing clinics."
"Indeed," Solas chuckled.
Solana checked Meira over once more, letting out a breath. "The worst is past, but she is not out of danger. While magic heals and renews, the body must ultimately decide if it will accept the magic performed - especially in a case like this. The damage is still there, on a level we cannot see.
"Her body will still be fighting off the effects of the cold, but will be more focused on staving off infection and correcting her injuries. It has been through much. Now, it is between her and the Maker if she survives. Be that as it may, we must do all we can to help in the meantime." Finished with bandaging, she glanced between Meira and I. "I'm going to need you to strip, Commander."
My eyes were trained on Meira's pale face, my mind racing with thoughts, but at Solana's words I snapped my head up. "What?"
Her dark eyes found mine, her lips pursed in anger and impatience. "Strip. Now."
"Wha-Why?" I demanded.
"She needs to get warm and quickly," she began. "Our magic is spent and what little we have cannot be wasted on keeping people warm. I need to see to Bethany and Asaala, to heal what I can of them before I am burned out again. Bull is currently being used as a heater for the Herald.
"If you want M-Talitha to recover, you need to warm her up the non-magical way. Body heat - at least until the tent I instructed Rylen to see to is complete. If you don't, I'll get someone who will. Rylen or Henry Trevelyan, perhaps?"
Despite the circumstances, I flushed. Absolutely not."I must be…unclothed?"
"If you want to ensure she recovers quickly, yes. The less clothing between you the faster she will warm. You'll also need to make as much contact with her skin as possible." She stared me down and I blushed deeper.
"Honestly, Cullen. Pull yourself together. You're doing it to save her life, not to take her virtue. You're in full view of all the healers; if I must vouch as to your nobility and innocence upon her waking, I shall do so."
I scowled. "That is…not necessary. I will see to her."
"Good. Let's get her into a cot. Then you must strip and save her life," she demanded. "That one - it has the most covers."
Together, we carried her and laid her down gently before covering her in the furs and blankets. "You'll need to be pressed chest to chest, the furs tight around you. It will get heat to her the quickest."
Failing to fight the blush pounding in my face, I set to do as the mage directed. I tried to fashion a curtain to give us a modicum of privacy, but to no avail. I glanced at Meira - she was pale, her breathing shallow again from the move.
Quickly, I stripped off my armor. Most of it was burnt, the metal cracked. I would need new armor as would she - as would we all. That done, I focused on removing the rest of my clothing. Doublet, tunic, pants, boots, socks. Standing in nothing but my linen shorts, almost as naked as the day I was born in the tent, I did my best to ignore my humiliation. Reminding myself I was doing this to ensure Meira lived, I pulled back the furs and blankets. Forgive me, Meira.
I did my utmost to focus only on getting into the cot, to focus on getting her warm and not to look at her body. It didn't stop my eyes from catching on her scars and now healing wounds, though. She was covered in bruises, dried blood and there were remnants of frostbite, but where her gravest wounds from Haven had been, was now healed flesh. Not even scars remained. I blinked. Not even scars.
The small bit I had seen of her as I'd cut away her clothing, every inch had been covered in scars from Alrik. What had been ruined, what had been burned and healed was now free of his mark. I feared for her, what she would think - would she be relieved or would she wish the entirety of her free of his ghost?
I blinked again, my mind catching up with my eyes. Her brand from being made Tranquil was gone. Deep within me, I felt as something heavy lightened and faded away, the oddest sensation flooding my being.
"You need to actually get in the cot, Cullen," Solana clicked her tongue. "Youmay get warm just from looking at her, but she won't." I met her eyes and gave her the iciest glare I could muster. Somehow, Solana managed the hint of a smirk.
With a huff, I climbed the rest of the way into the cot. Careful not to touch any part of her that was intimate, I curled myself around her, wrapping her in my arms, but kept my body from being flush with hers. She was ice cold, but shivering and I breathed a sigh of relief. If her body was fighting the cold, she was more well than I feared.
"Honestly, you'd think you didn't want to touch her," Solana murmured as she appeared across from me. Maker, I am going to kill this woman.
Ignoring my pounding face, I glared into her dark eyes. "I will nottake advantage of this situation. I will do what I must to care for her, no more."
"Well, you'll never get anywhere like that. Pull her flush to you. Get her hands tucked between her body and yours. They were the worst of the frostbite damage aside from her nose and ears. If you would, rub her ears with your hands and puff your breath on her nose."
"Maker's breath," I grumbled, my face feeling as if it were melting off.
"Get to it, Commander," Solana clicked her tongue again before flitting off to care for Bethany and Asaala.
I did as the woman instructed, ignoring the response my body was having as I did so. Instead, I focused on giving thanks to the Maker.I thanked Him and praised Andraste over and over in my mind as I rubbed heat into Meira beneath the furs. I tried to ignore what the sensation of her skin beneath my hands roused in me; to focus on the fact that she was here, that she had lived - that she would live. That I got to hold her once more.
Then guilt flooded me: What right do I have to her? All of this...all of this happened because of me. My selfishness. If I had been taking it...I would have been faster, stronger, would have sensed what she was going to do before she pushed me away. Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
She had not faltered. She had met our enemy, taken everything they could throw at her, saved her sister and somehow clung to life to make it back in the face of impossible odds. Yet, none of that would have happened if I had not faltered.
I looked at Meira's unconscious face, color slowly returning to her cheeks. I felt her breathing, felt her heart getting stronger with each beat as mine thudded in cadence with hers as time passed. I do not deserve her.
Unable to endure the guilt any longer and sensing she was warm enough, I gently removed myself from the cot. Quickly dressing, I snuck from the healer's tent. I ran my thumb over where the coin had cut into my palm.
I wouldkeep my vows to protect and serve; to sacrifice. The best way I could care for her, could protect her - the sacrifice I had to make - was to keep her away from me. I only brought her to harm again and again. Had only taken instead of given.
Thirst clawed at me as I entered my tent, feeling that cage close around me, feeling the demons' stare in the dark corners of the space. The truth I had denied hitting me: the man I had been had died in that cage and there was no bringing him back. My eyes fell once more to the box of lyrium.
I should be taking it. That's the best I have to give - to her, to the Inquisition. Who am I without it? What good am I? I would be clearheaded, stronger and I would serve with abandon.
With abandon...or blind obedience? A small voice questioned. I swallowed thickly as my hand hung in midair, pausing in my reach for the box. I thought of my Kirkwall self: prejudiced, blind, and cowardly. I'd had the fortitude to face down demons and bloodmages, but I was too afraid of magic to speak out when I knewMeredith and the others were in the wrong. I was too afraid to endure withdrawal again to be outwardly disobedient. I questioned, I spoke up for the charges I knew were innocent, but whatever Meredith ordered...I had obeyed.
Out of fear and blind obedience - too angry to doubt, too sedate to care. I heard the sobs of my younger self - felt the sweat, the trembling, the nausea, the pain. I'd turned to lyrium and my duty to drown out what had happened. In so doing, I'd lost myself. Now, there was no hiding from it - from the man I had become.
Without lyrium and the fear of addiction. Addiction. Addict. Shame washed over me as I realized how quickly and easily I was justifying giving in. I could not go back. My thumb ran over that small cut in my palm again.
The Maker brought her back. The Maker has spared her. Spared me. Giving us both a second chance. I do not deserve it and yet she is here.
If the Maker wills it, I shall come back to you. And He had - she had. But I'd fought the hope that refused to dissipate. I'd run from my shame and crawled back to lyrium, even as she lay in my arms; even as she needed me. Yet, even now as shame was threatening to drown me, that hope remained.
For a moment my inner storm quieted and I allowed myself to give in fully to that spark of hope. And with it, my mind opened to every possibility of a future. I saw us together, my courting her as she had called me to do. Romancing her with every gentle gesture, every sweet thing I would never admit to thinking about. Honoring her with propriety and chivalry. Marriage, children if the Maker so blessed us, growing old together.
And my heart filled to bursting at the realization that I couldhave those things if I wanted, no longer bound to a life spent wholly in service to others. No longer bound to lyrium. But first, I had to see the Inquisition triumph. To be part of something that built up instead of tore down. Averting disaster instead of being a part of it. Leading instead of following. I had to continue to resist my old self.
Maker, thank you for turning Your gaze upon her. Upon me. I will not falter again. I will endure. I wanted to go back to Meira - I'd been a fool and a coward to leave in the first place.
I stepped away from the box and turned, a hard slap stinging across my face. It'd been so forceful, my head had snapped to one side. I blinked and looked around to find Solana's brown eyes burning with rage.
"What in the Void are you doing, Cullen?" Her voice roared at me. "Why did you leave her? She's grown cold again. Her body cannot keep going through such fluctuations. I need you to continue warming her until I say otherwise!" She continued to glare at me. "You'd think a man who's spent his entire life following orders would know one when he heard it!"
"I-I," I looked away. "She deserves better."
"Of course she does, you git!" Solana barked. "I cannot for the life of me figure out what she sees in you! But do you honestly think she was willing to sacrifice herself for you for something less than a love beyond anything I have ever seen? All she endured, how long she waited - for you? And you'd spit in the face of that love over your spurned pride?
"You screwed up, Rutherford - we all did. They should never have faced that thing alone. Meira nearly paid the price with her life. Are you going to make her pay with her heart as well? Own up to your cockup. Go to that female who loves you and watch her embrace you with a grace I wish I possessed.
"She is the best of us - and she loves you. Loves me. Loves Ellana. Loves the people of the Inquisition. We were backed into a hopeless situation and they decided to throw themselves at it to give us a chance. Decided to spare you, so that you could join in that chance. She did everything she could to make sure our Herald returned to us, the Maker seeing them both returned to us. This is not about you, it's about her and she needs you."
She was in my face, staring me down again. Then her anger cooled and she looked away before meeting my gaze with her own livid one. "You...you tried to keep her from harm. It's more than I did...and for that, I will hate you even more."
"I was on my way back to her," I murmured, unsure what else to say. "I have no idea why I left in the first place."
She scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, you do. You felt unworthy of her because of your failure, so you came back here and contemplated resuming your consumption of lyrium to dull the pain."
I was taken aback. "How-how did -"
She waved a hand in dismissal. "I recognized the signs of withdrawal, that's all you need to know." She looked me over and let out a breath. "How long have you not been taking it?"
"For months," I stated, crossing my own arms over my chest.
That surprised her, her brows raised in evidence. "You've...never complained, never come to Bethany or I for the pain."
I quirked a brow at her. "Why would I? I chose this."
"I-I have to say I am surprised. I would never have...guessed it's been that long." I could tell she was becoming uncomfortable as she shifted on her feet. "Why did you stop?"
Every bad memory played out before my eyes. Every reason why. Kirkwall decimated, the dead in the streets. Meira in the cell. "After Kirkwall...It was what I had to do, let's leave it at that." I breathed.
She studied me for a time, wanting to push for answers, but she didn't. "Does Meira know?" Her voice was quiet, gentle; she'd never spoken to me this way before.
"I was in the middle of telling her when...the attack happened," I offered.
She looked me over some more. "You have nothing to help ease the pain?"
I looked away. "I had a salve and an elixir, but both were destroyed at Therinfal." Embarrassment fluttered in my gut. "This isn't your concern, Solana."
"Cullen," she sighed. "I may hate you, but I'm not cruel." I met her eyes. "Your...apologies - supposed change of heart - meant nothing to me, but this..." She chewed on her lip.
"I knew a man who couldn't let it go, no matter what I tried. He didn't want to let it go. You do. I lost him. You mean everything to someone very dear to me. I will do what I can to help you in this, if you'll allow me."
I blinked at her. "I do not want it to be easier on me. This is my burden to bear."
Solana became angry again. "To the Void with that, Rutherford! I cannot take your suffering or pain away, but I canhelp you endure it." I shook my head. "Fine, have it your way you stubborn idiot!" She huffed, throwing her hands in the air before turning away.
As she reached the opening of the tent, she rounded on me, another thought coming to mind as she thrust a finger in my direction. "Do not think for a second that Meira will accept such stupidity from you. When you tell her, she'll flay you alive if you try to pull that on her."
I looked away again. "It's because of her - of you...because of all of my charges that I failed. I must do this. How else do I atone? What future can there be outside the Order if I don't try?"
Stunned, she was silent. She stood at the flap for a few moments, her eyes downcast. "I...understand." She sighed and looked at me through her lashes. "I have no right to judge you where Meira is concerned. I failed her too - abandoned her. If I had not...if I were you, I'd feel exactly the same way. I do feel the same way."
I looked back up to her. Her face was soft, gentle even. "Meira needs you right now. Don't abandon her. The new tent is ready, so you won't be so out in the open. I know you have other duties, but I also know Meira would want no one else that close to her after…everything." So, she does know.
She chewed on her lip some more, a blush pinking her cheeks. "I am...sorry for making you uncomfortable. There really was no other option - still is no other option until the braziers get warm enough in the tent and we can get warm fluids down her. If we had our magic back or some warming runes…"
I nodded, unsure why she was explaining herself to me. She met my eyes. "I am...proud of you, Cullen." I gave her a shocked look, causing her to look away, embarrassed. "But you're still a git and I still hate you." I smirked as her words held less bite than they usually did. Her face turned hard once more. "You need to care for her."
I clenched my fists, feeling that cut in my palm. Already, I had failed to keep my promises. I nodded to Solana and followed her to the new tent set up for Ellana and Meira.
I would serve the Inquisition with all I had to give. I would serve the Maker with all I had to give. I would rise from this absolute failure and try to be worthy of all I had been called to: Andrastian. Commander. Advisor. Friend. Brother. Protector. Lover.
I would try again. And again. And again. No matter how many times it would take. Perhaps in so doing, I would find the man the Maker had called to be part of this Inquisition. The man Meira needed.
I would never run. I would never abandon her. I would love her with all I had to give. Love her as she deserved to be loved. I swear it.
Hello everyone! So excited to be back!
Some of what Ellana sings and Mahanon says to Cullen comes from here: wiki/Dalish:_Lexicon and from World of Thedas Vol. 2.
Things are going to be a little different with Part Two. I will only be able to post once a week instead of twice (unless work schedule changes), but chapters are going to be longer.
Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Tell me your thoughts via reviews!
Thank you for reading! Faves, follows and reviews are always welcome and appreciated!
