The Unbreaking

by LadyAubade

A novelized version of DA:I centering around the love story of Meira Neria Lavellan, formerly of Kinloch Hold, and Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition's Forces. In a world determined to keep them broken and apart, they fight to be together. Cameos, blushes, stammering and fluff abound. *Updates Monthly*

54. The Chains You Cling To

WARNINGS: Implied sexual content. Violence.

---

MEIRA

"Cullen?" I questioned.

I was sat in his chair, Ghilani beside me, looking over a list of the names of those who had expressed an interest in joining the mage battalion. We'd been interrupted after Cullen confessed to his no longer taking lyrium by several recruits and runners. They brought reports on the reconstruction efforts, supply lines, patrol updates, and so many other things that I admired Cullen's patience with the bombardment.

Apparently, the workers had gotten through to a buried door in the main hall of the castle to discover another courtyard that had at one time been a beautiful garden. It was in desperate need of tending, but could be utilized as a garden once again-both ornamental and utilitarian. Ellana had assigned Ma to its care, but would see more to it upon her return. A dungeon had also been discovered, but needed repair before Denam or Alexius could be housed there.

We tried to carry on a conversation in between each interruption, but it had proven difficult. Through it, however, Cullen had admitted that Solana knew he was no longer taking lyrium. Before I could be hurt at her knowing before I had, he assured me that he'd had no intention of her knowing at all, but she had recognized the symptoms and confronted him about it. I expressed relief in her knowing as I could work with her to map out ways to help him. I could tell he was still resistant, but I would be no less stubborn in this area.

We'd finally hit a guard rotation and meal time causing the interruptions to hit a lull. I wanted to ask him about what all he was enduring, to discuss ways of helping him—ways he thought would be of the most help to him. I also wanted to discuss my family.

"Yes, love?" He was bent over his desk, poring over the reports and maps of the area the scouts had made.

For a moment, I simply admired him. The sunset pouring in through the windows painted him in a golden light, bringing warmth to his somewhat pallid skin. His golden hair shown, his dark lashes fluttering with each blink. His bow-shaped lips were pulled in a frown of concentration. My eyes caught on his nose, while it was strong like the rest of him, it was oddly delicate at the same time. It was scrunched with frustration and the more I studied it, the more adorable I found it.

When I didn't answer, he blinked and looked up at me. As his amber eyes met my gaze, I recalled the look on his face when he'd confessed that he'd stopped taking lyrium. He had been fierce. Fiercely determined that this path was the one he had to tread. His eyes had burned with the earnestness of his need to do this, but his voice had held a hint of doubt. While I had been hurt and angry that he had not told me, more than anything I had been stunned by the will it must have taken to stop in the first place—and persevere as all the symptoms had come. It had made me fall even more in love with him.

I heard him chuckle breathily as he quirked a brow at me, drawing me out of my thoughts. Flustered at being caught staring, I blushed and looked away. Feeling his gaze, I was drawn back to find his bronze eyes intense on me, the scarred corner of his lip lifted in a knowing crooked smile, making my insides feel weak. "Am I distracting you?"

"N-no," I stammered.

Even in ruined armor and a beard, he still was one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen. Swallowing thickly as his eyes didn't leave mine, he prowled towards me. We hadn't kissed since I'd woken up, him only placing kisses on my face or hands. I knew in part that it was his way of "doing things properly" but I was getting a little desperate. A part of me was grateful, however, as the dark voice within me hissed whenever he showed me affection, no matter how much I shouted it down.

Thinking back to our conversation—thinking of how he had admitted that he intended to marry me—my stomach flipped at all that it meant. My eyes dropped to his lips, where they pulled into a deeper smirk. He stooped over the chair, his hands on the arms. His golden eyes burned into me. "What is it, my darling?"

Resisting the urge to rise up and kiss him, I tilted my chin so I could meet his eyes. "Why did you agree to do the trials?" It was a question that had been gnawing at me and had been brought to the forefront of my mind as I thought of his promise of what was to come. "I…you could have said no. In fact, you didn't need to ask my parents' permission at all. I—we—do not need their blessing."

His gaze turning soft at the question, he lowered himself to a knee. He took my hands in his, the soft leather of his gloves rubbing the backs of my fingers. "M-Talitha," he murmured. "Would you accept that it is simply important to me to have their blessing?"

"But why?" I quirked a brow. "What my father is asking you to do—"

"—Is no different than what I would ask a of a man who—" He cut himself off, his eyes going wide before he looked away. "—That is, I understand why he is asking."

I knew what he had been about to say. Wanted to marry my daughter. Pain gripped my insides. He'd stopped himself, but he'd been thinking it. At his reaction, I understood that a part of him either knew that we may not be able to have children or thought it wrong to discuss such things to cut himself off. I was not ready to discuss this—to tell him such dreams were not possible with me.

You see, he'll abandon you again—once he realizes you're useless to him. I pushed the voice away. "I do not understand. He has no right to demand such a thing. I didn't fight him on it when he told me because they said you agreed—and I was…so happy about what it meant—but…he lost that right a long time ago."

Cullen leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "He is extending a peace offering." Leaning back once more, he chuckled. "Honestly, I expected him to say 'no' and that he would never give such a blessing."

"I think I would have preferred that," I murmured, looking away.

"Don't say that," Cullen urged, gently grasping my chin to turn me back to him. "My darling…I know this…may not be my place—I know they are your family and they hurt you—but…they are trying. Can you…at least let them try?"

I closed my eyes. "But what if…what if they hurt me again?" He put a hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. What if he hurts you again? I pressed his hand harder against my skin. Maker, please. Andraste, give me strength.

"Have they?" Cullen probed.

"Mahanon…had some harsh things to say," I admitted quietly. "And…Da seemed to have a hard time with the idea that…any children we would have would be human." I flicked my eyes up to him. He was looking towards the door, as if sensing someone on the other side of it before they knocked and then entered. I watched as he clenched his jaw before standing.

"Yes?" Cullen barked.

It was Cullen's legate, Sela. She jumped at his tone and then her eyes caught on me in his chair. "Forgive the intrusion, Commander. Lieutenant-Commander. The Inquisitor has called a meeting of the advisors in the War Room."

"Thank you, Sela," Cullen nodded. "I will be along shortly." Sela shifted on her feet, looking uncomfortable. "What is it?"

"She was rather insistent, ser," Sela stated. "There were things she wanted to address before she and the others depart in the morning."

I watched as Cullen's shoulders moved with a deep breath out. "Very well. Is Bull available to carry the Ambassador below?"

"I will find him, Commander," Sela saluted before she turned to leave.

"Thank you." Cullen turned to me, a hand on his hip as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am sorry, my love. I was hoping to…be able to talk more. Not only about…personal matters, but the battalion as well. Perhaps, once they are on the road…"

I chuckled. "Let's not fool ourselves, Cullen. Things are not going to get any easier. We will have to be intentional of our time together. We'll have our meetings as Commander and Lieutenant-Commander of the Mage Battalion—can we please come up with a shorter title?" Cullen chuckled. "Training together once I am fully healed. We will see each other daily."

His shoulders slumped. "But…scheduled time…that is no way to…conduct our—this."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling as he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "We will have to take what we can get." I watched him clench his jaw again, crossing his arms over his chest. I can endure it. My heart twisted at recalling those words. How much had he endured already? How much more would he have to endure still? Andraste, give him the strength. "The Inquisition must come first, my love."

His honey eyes flicked to me. Crossing the space between us in two great strides he took my face in his hands and kissed the corner of my mouth tenderly. "I must see to my duties, but know that you are first in my heart. Always."

Warmth in my chest at his words, I put my arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace. "Go, my knight."

Hesitant to pull out of my arms, when he did, I had to chuckle at how miserable he looked. Smoothing his hair down and adjusting his mantle for him before he turned to scoop up a few things from his desk, I watched as he strode out the door. In his absence, loneliness engulfed me.

…

Bull had returned me to the makeshift infirmary where several sickbeds were now lain against the far wall. Curtains had been fashioned and hung to section off each bed. The beds themselves had been scavenged from around Skyhold and sturdied. New beds were being ordered once the sleeping quarters were finished, but for now, everyone made due—either with beds found or with bedrolls. Cullen had apparently been lucky enough to get a halfway decent bed in the loft above his office, but most everyone else was not as lucky. He had joked that 'of course' the one person who hardly slept actually got an intact bed.

Bull had been speaking with Asaala who'd woken up some days before, and made a joke that maybe Cullen should utilize it for other activities once I was more recovered. Cullen had gone scarlet before Asaala had punched Bull in the arm. Few could truly injure the qunari with their bare hands, but Asaala being nearly as tall and powerfully built had won a yelp from the male.

During that exchange, Bethany had entered the gatehouse, leaning heavily on her crutch having been helped up by Solana. We'd gone silent as she kept her eyes averted. My heart had melted with compassion for her as she was obviously not handling her new situation well. Yet, her deciding to be among us showed that she was trying. I'd asked her if she believed Bull should be barred from the infirmary if he was going to cause such commotion while Bull had protested that he was just trying to help.

Bethany had given a small smile before saying that Bull needed to take his own advice where Asaala was concerned. The qunari male had for the first time since I'd began spending time with him, been lost for words. We all had been lost for words, for none of us had suspected an attraction between the two of them; but at Bethany's words, Asaala had bloomed with color and Bull had stayed strangely silent for the rest of his visit. Bethany had settled into the cot between the two of us, obliging Cullen and I in polite conversation.

Solana had returned from the kitchen with food and told the males they needed to leave. She'd wanted to check us all over to ensure that there was no regression or magical rejection occurring. When Cullen had questioned why he could not stay as he'd been with me barely a half-hour after his meeting, Solana asked if he was looking for an excuse to see me without clothing again. Blushing deeply and stammering, he'd shot off the stool he'd been sat upon—knocking it over in the process, causing Ghilani to yelp in surprise—and coughed something about needing to see to reports before striding out the door. Bull had been on his heels.

Beginning her examination, I'd hesitantly asked Solana if my suspicions about not being able to bear children were correct. Bethany had said quietly that the likelihood had been minuscule after everything that had happened in Kirkwall. Solana had agreed, with sadness in her voice, that it was unlikely. Tears springing to my eyes despite my already knowing, I gave them a nod. Solana tried to encourage me not to give up hope completely, that when the time came there were things that could be tried. Knowing she was trying to help, I said nothing, but I knew I could not subject myself to repeated bouts of lost hope.

Helping me out of my shift, I was met with my somewhat new body for the first time. Not only was my stomach half free of his mark, but parts of my arms and legs where I'd had severe breaks were as well. My left thigh was decorated with an intricate scar: raised, pearlescent and mimicking the flames that had licked my body. It was both beautiful and haunting as with it came thoughts of Minaeve.

Solana had explained that I was lucky that was all I walked away with as dragon fire tended to burn fast and to the bone—at least according to documentation and what we'd observed in Haven. I told her that Purpose was probably responsible for it not being as severe as it should have been, that he had somehow opened the Fade and healed my wounds. Solana was fascinated by this news, but she knew I was unable to help her investigate further as I had to avoid the Fade for the time being.

Handing me a small mirror, I looked at my reflection. I gasped allowed as I took in my face. It was free of the brand. "How?"

"That was not me," Solana murmured. "Purpose appeared as we were…reviving you. He placed his hand on your forehead and when the spell was done, your brand was gone."

A twinge of guilt twisted in my chest. He'd given me another gift in that act. Do not lose faith in Purpose.
I hadn't lost faith, but I was angry, disappointed and felt betrayed by him. I knew what he'd done, he'd done because he wanted to protect me; but that did not excuse it.

It seemed the potion had been keeping the entity sedate, but now even that did not block it out entirely. I'd hear it whisper every so often, trying to plant seeds of doubt and discord in all of my relationships, but most poignantly with Ellana and Cullen. Something about them in particular drew its hate. You know why. You just won't admit it. Pushing the voice away, I questioned Solana some more.

"But how did you heal my old scars?"

"Because of the extent of your injuries, I had to create new flesh instead of simply restoring the old," Solana explained as she helped me dress. "It's not easy and generally the body rejects such magic. Mages seem the most accepting of magically grown organic material—I theorize that it has something to do with whatever component allows us to have magic—to manipulate mana—in the first place. When you try to magically grow organic material in your average mortal, the body seems to attack the foreign material."

"How would you have discovered that?" Bethany probed.

A sad look came over Solana's face. "In Kirkwall. Working in the underground clinics…I saw all kinds of injuries. People were willing to accept any treatment and I was desperate to help them." Shutting her eyes tight, she breathed out. "But I quickly stopped offering to heal old wounds."

"What would happen?" Bethany questioned further.

Solana's coffee eyes glanced at Bethany. "The rejection would be more excruciating than the wound they initially suffered. Flesh, muscle and bone would rot away, eating itself—or the magic was feeding on their body. I was never able to come to a conclusion. Healing poultices containing lyrium powder can help but…" There was a sorrow in her eyes as she murmured, "Even in healing, magic has a dangerous side."

"Tell me something, Solana," Bethany requested. "Did you know Anders?"

Solana shifted, uncomfortable. "I saw him once. Word had spread that he could heal things previously believed impossible. He'd brought people back from the brink of death. I wanted to apprentice under him, to learn what I could if he truly had skills beyond what I had already learned." A dark look crossed her face. "I watched him heal just once. A child near death. Instead of the revival spell we'd performed on you, Talitha…what he did…it went beyond a mage's natural ability. I had sensed something in him. It was a desire to save the child, but there was something beneath it…something dark he was wrestling. I left before I ever spoke to him."

We were all silent for a time. "So," Asaala's deep voice came from the corner where her cot sat. "From what you said about healing…about the dragon…Minaeve would have died either way?"

We all looked to her. Anger and grief were on her face. At the mention of Minaeve, I saw her ruined body before me as she shouted at me to go; watched as she bravely defended us from our attackers. Guilt gnawed at my gut. I had not been the friend I should've been before she died. Then she went and sacrificed herself for me—for us all.
My friend that had sought my company when no one wanted me because I was emotionless. Minaeve, the little mouse, that was content behind the walls of the tower studying her beasts and magical theory. Minaeve, innocent and impish, fierce and timid. Minaeve, who had been the catalyst for bringing Cullen and I finally together. Tears began to pour down my face.
"It was my fault. Demons appeared and…I was too weak to help her."

"Little one," Asaala murmured, pain and anger lacing her voice. "It was not your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine." I looked to Asaala, her lightning eyes burning with rage. "I should never have left her. She reminded me of my younger sister…she'd died of the wasting sickness at a young age. I…had been teaching Minaeve how to defend herself; trying to help her build her magic. She…showed promise and I thought…I thought she'd be safe. I…no one could have predicted the dragon."

"I could have," Ellana's voice spoke from the doorway. We all whipped our heads towards her. I gave her a quizzical look. "I…it all came together last night. In the dark future, it was mentioned several times that Corypheus had a pet—a monstrous servant. M-One of his servants was dressed in the fashion of a dragon. We heard its roar…" Ellana averted her gaze. "How could I be so blind?"

"Inquisitor," Asaala barked, causing Ellana's head to snap up. "No one could have predicted the dragon. Even more so, we could not have prepared for one. Since when has someone been able to tame—and wield—a dragon?" Asaala's eyes burned. "They are raw power, beyond anything we can comprehend. Intelligent, magical and possibly older than Thedas itself. Do not blame yourself for what you've learned in hindsight. No good can come of it. We need to focus on the future. How do we defeat a dragon? How do we defend ourselves against a dragon?"

"That will take studying one—fighting one," Solana stated. "They were believed extinct, beyond the archdemons that appear with each Blight. Little is known about them beyond what Nevarran dragon hunters recorded—which was mostly aimed at hunting them."

"There's a dragon in the Hinterlands," I murmured.

"What?" Asaala gasped. "Truly?"

I nodded. "She's in a valley, keeping to herself—or last we knew anyway. C-The Commander claimed she's a magnificent creature. It would be a shame to kill such a rarity unless necessary, would it not?"

"'A shame'?" Asaala chuckled darkly. "Defeating a dragon is a high honor. To defeat such prey…you pay respect to the beast and celebrate your rightly deserved accolades." Asaala looked away. "Now that you speak of it, I remember Minaeve mentioning it before…everything. She'd wanted to go study the beast."

"Perhaps before we slaughter the dragon for…the thrill of it," Ellana interjected, "We should have Helisma and a few of the researchers study it? Learn all we can before we attack it blindly?"

"And take the fun out of it?" Asaala quirked a brow, her fanged teeth showing.

"You really are more like Bull than I would have thought," Bethany mused, earning a glare from Asaala. "Aren't dragons like your…kin are something?"

Asaala shrugged. "No idea."

"I instructed Leliana to interrogate Alexius—to see if he has any information as to how Corypheus claimed his dragon," Ellana growled. "The man did save us in the 'dark future'. It's time I give him a chance to redeem himself…and find a way to save his son."

"How is Felix?" Solana questioned. "I did what I could for him, but…"

"Fighting…and staying positive—according to Dorian," Ellana informed Solana. "He and Dorian have been holed up in the library found beneath the main hall. It…is clearly touched by magic. Time passes differently while they remain inside, but there are texts within that have never even been heard of before."

Cullen had mentioned the find during his brief visit, clearly unnerved to have such a place beneath his feet. The magic library seemed to have a mind of its own as, at times, the door to it disappeared, barring anyone from entering. The soldiers that had first discovered it had been missing for days, but when they reappeared, it had only been moments for them. Cullen demanded that the workers stay well away from it until more research could be done by the mages. Dorian had gleefully thrown himself into the room, having spent days inside while only moments passed for him.

"They've no luck so far in finding something for Felix's situation." Ellana's eyes looked pointedly at me before she came to my cot. "Care to join me for a walk?"

I nodded and she helped me stand, Ghilani standing from where she had been dozing to follow along. The wolf's presence was becoming a needed source of comfort—a reassuring presence. I did not know why she had come to me, but it seemed we had both been in need of soothing.

Walking us out the door of the gatehouse and down the small set of steps, I took in the beauty that was Skyhold. The beautiful stones, vining ivy, stain glass windows and mountains everywhere. More and more people were coming everyday—mages, templars, recruits, faithful common folk. There was still much to be done before the fortress could truly serve as a home, but the reconstruction efforts were already well underway.

I caught sight of Cullen at his makeshift desk that he had not completely given up despite establishing his office. I watched as he commanded his men, praising and instructing with a voice both patient and authoritative. His men admired him, even more after the events of Haven, that much was clear. He stood proud and strong before them.

I can endure it. Whatever the suffering, I accept it. My heart twinged as I thought of what he must be fighting against even as I watched him and a fiery pride burned in my chest at the sheer strength he must possess to have suffered silently for so long. To push through whatever pain was clawing at him and be the Commander I now observed.

A part of me worried I had not expressed my admiration for him—for what he had chosen to do—by demanding he lessen the pain however he could and I knew I needed to tell him how proud I was of him. And I was proud, so very proud of him. How much he'd overcome, how hard he was trying, and how, despite it all, that good man I fell in love with was still there, and being made better. My knight. My heart. My heart ached with how much I loved him. Maker, please. Andraste, my lady, give him peace.

Cullen's amber eyes flicked to where we stood and I felt my stomach quiver as his stare lingered for a moment upon me. I recalled the way he'd looked at me when Ellana had been made Inquisitor. Those eyes had burned, burned with fire, with love, with want. Had I not been sitting upon Bull's shoulder, I would have gone weak at the knees with the intensity of his gaze. It had held a promise: I am yours. As I had watched him rally his men, watched as his stony exterior fell away to reveal the depths of the passion he felt for this cause and listened as he roared, I had been in awe of him. My lion. That roar had resonated in my soul, my heart longing for that promise to be fulfilled.

It was as if hearing him cry for the future—as if he were standing before all he had endured and roared that he would triumph. He would triumph. As I'd closed my eyes for sleep that night, I had heard him roar over the shouts of the Inquisition at his back again and again. Proud and strong. Brave and beautiful. I am yours. I'd curled in on myself, awaiting when we would be wholly each other's.

Drawing me back to the present, Ellana tugged on my arm. I tore my eyes from him as she walked me out through the main gate and onto the drawbridge. While cold, the magic of the castle kept the wind down and the cold bearable.
People and animals lined the walkway of the bridge—or 'neck' as Cullen called it, bringing in supplies, volunteers and gold. We'd all been perplexed at first that the only way up from the valley floor was a wending incline path that led to a large, intricate lift. The lift was controlled by a very large winch housed within the outermost tower at the end of the neck. Cullen planned to outfit the tower as a barbican—an outpost of sorts. There was a narrow stairwell circling the inner walls of the tower, but only one or two people could fit at a time. The lift had been fortified, the winch tested again and again before anyone had been lifted up, but it had proven sound and stayed steady.

The castle had other oddities, but Cullen seemed to find they only added to our defenses even if they complicated daily life. Ghilani snorted and I watched as she trotted down the bridge, no doubt seeking scraps if she could find some. I looked back to Ellana as she let out a breath, worry creasing her dark brow.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing is wrong," she stated, but her words had been hesitant. I gave her a look and she sighed. "Dorian believes he might have found information on the blood magic…she used on you." Ellana still had not forgiven Deshanna for what she had done; still refused to speak her name.

"Truly?" I questioned. Ellana gave a nod. "You're wary…and worried. Why?"

"Because I think she did more to you than she realized," Ellana murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll have to have Dorian or Solas explain. I do not understand."

"I would rather hear it from you. I hardly know Dorian," I gritted my teeth. "Besides are you not taking everyone with you?"

"Not I, Talitha," Solas's voice spoke from behind me. I turned to find the elf male studying us enigmatically. He stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back. "The Inquisitor requests that I stay behind to begin your training."

I looked between them. "I am not fully healed yet."

"No," Solas agreed. "But I can help you in that as well. I will come to you at dawn." With a glance at Ellana, he gave a slight bow and departed.

"What is happening?" I turned to Ellana, finding her gaze lingering on the elf male.

"He…took me into the Fade," Ellana began, a blush coloring her cheeks. "I…did not realize that he, too, was a Dreamer."

"Why are you blushing?" I probed.

Ellana blushed harder, biting her lip. "We may have…kissed."

I raised my brows. "What?" A smile spread on her lips. "Wait, he took you into the Fade? How?"

Ellana shrugged. "All I remember is him saying something about talking somewhere 'more interesting'. Then we were in Haven—but not, as Haven is destroyed. Then…I was so tired of waiting for him to do something…anything besides whisper sweet nothings or subtly flirt. I grabbed his chin and kissed him."

I laughed. "What did he do?"

Ellana covered her now red face. "I was so terrified. I have no idea where that boldness came from. I started to run—where, why, I do not know." I could tell she was fighting a smile. "He grabbed me as I retreated, spun me and kissed me with such a…hunger, Talitha. I…Creators, it stole my breath away."

"So, why isn't he going with you?"

Her face fell and she sighed. "He says he needs some time to think. He is…worried about pursuing me."

I knit my brow. "Why?"

"Because I am the Inquisitor. Because he is an apostate. Because of the current state of the world. Because I am Dalish and he is not." The words flowed out of her and with them the tension she had obviously been bottling up. "I…understand, so I agreed to give him time to think in the form of him staying here and helping you. Now that I know he's a Dreamer, it is more important that he be with you for training than with me—unless necessary. At least, until you have mastered your abilities. Besides, he has plenty he wishes to study that would be better accomplished within these walls."

I placed a hand on her arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I just…something about him…I have never met anyone like him."

"What do Ma and Da think?" I probed, fighting a smirk. "Is Da going to demand Solas go through the Hearthkeeper's Trials as well?" Thinking of them trying to convince the male of that was laughable.

Ellana paled. "What? Who is he putting through the trials?"

Oh, Maker. I forgot that she wasn't supposed to know. "Nothing. No one."

Ellana turned to me, anger taking the place of her nervousness. "Who?" I tried to back away from her, but she grabbed my wrist. "Are they putting Cullen through the trials?"

"N-No."

"You are a terrible liar, Talitha," Ellana growled. "Why is he doing that? Did Cullen agree? Did you? Do I need to speak with him and tell them how absolutely ridiculous—not to mention hypocritical—that is?"

"Cullen agreed only after he and Da worked out a way to do them that is not related to Sylaise. I tried to talk Cullen out of it, but he said he understood why Da was asking and…he feels he should respect them this way. He wants to do it."

"To the Void with that," Ellana scoffed. "He has no right. And I will tell you this moment that if he even thinks of trying to demand that of Solas—not only would Solas scoff at such a request—I would be enraged."

"So…you don't think I should let it happen?" I probed.

"No!" Ellana bit. "You know that I love them, but…Da lied to us. They let her experiment on you, let her cast you out. You and Cullen do not need their blessing."

"But he wants it…and I…if it is what Cullen wants to do, then I feel I should respect his decision," I murmured.

"Do not misunderstand me," Ellana said softly, pulling my gaze to her. "I am impressed by your shem. That he had the boldness to ask in the first place and that he cares enough to for you to respect them this way. I'm sure it also stems from him respecting Ma—they seem to have bonded while you were asleep." Ellana gave a small smile. "I think Ma is rather taken with your templar and it's driving the rest of them mad."

"Ex-templar," I corrected.

"And I'm Mythal," Ellana snorted.

I chuckled. "He's trying."

"I know," Ellana smiled, eyes dancing. "He really is. I will be excited to see how the battalion and templars have progressed when we return."

"We are eager as well, Inquisitor," I gave a nod. "Now, if we could just find time to actually talk about things."

Ellana gave an apologetic look. "I do apologize for that. With me gone, Skyhold should be a little calmer, but whatever his duties were, they are increasing tenfold."

"We will do what we must." Ellana pulled me into a hug, causing me to jump. "Are you supposed to hug me?"

"I think it is perfectly acceptable for the Inquisitor to hug the person responsible for saving her life," Ellana chided. "I will miss you."

"And I you," I tightened my arms around her. "Be safe."

Ellana helped me back to the infirmary, but before she left, she asked Solana and I to work together to design her wardrobe and armor. She had temporary armor and weapons, Vivienne and Josephine had expressed the need for new attire for everyone, but she did not trust this to Vivienne or her tailor. She trusted me and loved what she had seen of Solana's work.
Expressing that she understood we had much on our plate, she entrusted the task to me while I was still mostly confined to bed rest. I told her I was more than happy to do so and at my agreement, she'd requested that I do the same for myself and Cullen.

The others had entrusted Vivienne with the task while Cullen had expressed an impressive display of obstinate refusal to be done up like some "blasted Orlesian twit". This had apparently earned him a thorough tongue-lashing by Madame de Fer, leaving him in a foul mood. I readily agreed as I was all too eager to have an excuse to draw him and save him from Vivienne.

Ellana expressed her thanks before leaving to see to last minute details before the vigil for those we'd lost later in the evening. Bethany and Asaala asleep, Solana and I spoke in hushed tones about Cullen. A smile broke on her beautiful face at the news that he'd finally told me.

Before offering solutions, she asked me how I took the news. Honest in my fear for him, I told her that I deeply respected his choice, but refused to sit by and let him intentionally endure the pain without help. Giving a nod of approval, she listed off what things could help him.

A salve comprised of elderflower, oakmoss and elfroot. Oakmoss and elfroot elixirs. She also instructed placing potted plants within his office with calming scents such as rosemary. He should regularly take warm baths to loosen tense muscles, followed by cold. Ensuring he had plenty of food and excessive amounts of water to help curb the thirst. To my embarrassment, she also encouraged that I massage his muscles to foster better sleep and that I teach him breathing techniques to try when he was particularly struggling.

"How do you know all of this, Sol?" I questioned, trying to distract myself from thoughts of massaging Cullen's muscles.

"I'll only give you the same answer I gave him—I knew a man that was an addict and couldn't let go. Everything I just listed off to you helped ease his symptoms, but...he was too addicted to the power it gave him; clung too tightly to the chains it bound him in." Solana murmured, closing her eyes to memories. When she opened them, there was a fire in her gaze. "I lost him. I will not lose Cullen. Cullen chose this. Now that he has told you and you've demanded he let us help, I will do everything I can."

I looked away from her, unsure if I should divulge Cullen's other struggle. "Did...did this man have nightmares?"

I sensed Solana stiffen. "Perhaps, why do you ask?"

"What did you do for him?"

"I'm assuming your beau is having nightmares, but you do not wish to betray his confidence and tell me?" When I did not answer, she huffed out a breath and tossed her long, buttery-blond braid over her shoulder. "There wasn't much that could be done medicinally speaking...or magically even. Couldn't you do something about nightmares?"

I looked away from her curious gaze. "I...have been asked not to."

Solana scoffed. "Honestly, is the man a masochist? Why?"

"Because he asked, Solana," I gritted my teeth. Because he's keeping secrets from you...still. "I will not betray his trust." He doesn't trust you. "Nor violate his privacy."

Solana's coffee eyes flicked over me. She let out a sigh. "Very well. The only thing I could suggest is the breathing techniques and massages. Perhaps putting some calming scents under his pillow or perfuming his bedding." Worrying on her full bottom lip, she continued. "Depending on the nature of the dreams—the roots—it may have no effect at all. Present the ideas to him, but do so with guarded hope."

"Thank you, Sol."

"Don't thank me yet," she warned. "The worst is still to come."

I cocked my head at her. "What do you—"

"—Is this the infirmary?" A chipper voice questioned from the door. "Sorry, interrupted didn't I? Had a bit of trouble on the road." Solana and I turned to find a dwarven woman standing in the doorway. She was young, with auburn hair and forest green eyes. Her clothing was in tatters and there were cuts all over her face. Her loud voice woke Asaala and Bethany. "Assassins. Soldiers trying to keep us from passing through. Why? Don't know. But I'm here now."

The way she spoke, her chipper voice and those eyes that held genius…"Dagna?!"

Dagna blinked and assessed me. "Do I know you?"

Oh, flames! Neria doesn't exist. Neria died. Trying to think of a way to cover my blunder, but stumbling with my words, Solana spoke:"Word has spread of the famous—or infamous—Arcanist Dagna."

"Oh," Dagna chuckled. "I didn't realize anyone knew besides Leliana. And the other advisors. And the Inquisitor. And the soldiers sent to protect me. Alright, so a lot of people knew."

"I was told to expect you by Sister Nightengale," Solana covered smoothly. "Talitha, our Mage Ambassador and Lieutenant-Commander of the Mage Battalion was…interested in your skills, to say the least. I must admit, I am as well."

"Isn't this the part where you say 'your reputation proceeds' you then? Instead of blurting my name out?" Dagna chuckled, teasing me. "Never mind. I'm glad to be so welcomed. I have been eager to be part of the organization everyone is talking about. The Inquisitor's Mark—Anchor. Red Lyrium. A corrupted dragon. Ancient darkspawn. Just to name a few things I want to study. Not to mention my numerous other talents the Inquisition can utilize."

"We look forward to it," Solana smiled. "Let's take a look at your injuries."

"Let's do that, but truthfully, I came here for her." Dagna nodded, but her eyes were on Bethany. "I want to take a look at her leg. Bethany, right? Sorry, that was probably a sodded way to go about that."

"What?" Bethany questioned, her hands drifting to her ruined limb. "Al-Already?"

"Leliana—and the Inquisitor—were…insistent that I find a solution for you as soon as possible," Dagna stated.

"Why?" Bethany quirked a dark brow.

"Didn't say," Dagna shrugged. "I can assure you, I will find a solution and quickly."

Bethany said nothing, but gave a nod. Her caramel-colored eyes dropped to her leg. Severed just below her hip, all that was left was a bit of her right thigh. Still bandaged, not because it hadn't healed, but because Bethany still felt pain in the limb. Solana bandaged pain relieving poultices to what remained of Bethany's leg to lessen the sensation, but we could all tell it took its toll on her.

Solana patched Dagna up quickly before the dwarf made her way to Bethany, Solana on her heels. Solana had become fiercely protective of her cousin since they had begun getting to know each other. They had in Haven, but with the arrival of Marian, they'd actually worked on building a connection.

I had yet to meet the eldest Hawke, shocked to learn that she had even been at Skyhold when Cullen had told me. He had seemed glad to know that we had not crossed paths, but when I asked him about it, he simply said Hawke could be a difficult person to be around. Marian had left for Crestwood before Bethany had moved into the infirmary. I hoped we would get a chance to meet upon her return.

I watched as Dagna looked over Bethany, pulling tools and instruments out of her pockets. She seemed to take measurements, taking mental notes as she peppered Bethany with questions. Solana explained what she could of the sudden amputation, the healing afterwards and prior experiences she'd had with amputee recoveries. Dagna listened to it all with patience, touching Bethany only when necessary. Having collected everything she needed, Dagna swept from the room to meet Leliana.

As she left, Solana and Bethany fell into conversation about Solana's techniques. It seemed that Solana was teaching Bethany everything she knew, assuring her that she would return to her duties as a healer. Asaala got herself out of bed, stretching somewhat before leaving the infirmary. I could tell the qunari was not only restless, but tired of being in the infirmary because it was a constant reminder of the loss of Minaeve. I, too, was ready to be free.
Biting back a sigh of frustration, I pulled my sketchbook to me and opened it. I looked over the first drawing that was Cullen in the room of the inn. I blushed, but knew I would have to honor his gift—and him—with a drawing more befitting of who he truly was and when I did, I feared I would be too embarrassed to actually show it to him. First, I needed to perform another task—outfitting him in something proper. Then an idea struck me.

"Sol," I said, causing her to turn to me with a quirked brow. "Can you send a runner to find my father? And Dagna when she's finished with Sister Nightengale?" I scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. "And have them deliver this to Josephine?"

…

Da had been the first to arrive after Josephine's response. He looked both guarded and confused, but also pleased that I had asked to see him. He took the stool by my cot. "You…wanted to see me?"

"I did," I nodded. "I…have two things I want to discuss with you."

He quirked a dark brow. "Very well."

"First," I swallowed. "I am…not pleased that you demanded Cullen go through the trials. I…did not argue because you said he agreed. I am not barring him from doing them as he has expressed that he wants to pay you respect this way, but…you should have paid me respect in not asking it of him in the first place." He opened his mouth to speak, but I put a hand up.
"Second, because you are a blacksmith of particular talent—and to make up for this—I am commissioning you to smith a new sword for him. And armor. I have been given the go ahead to spare no expense in the materials. I will design it all, but you are to smith it and give it to him when you give us your blessing. Also, you are to work with the Arcanist, Dagna. I want this armor and sword to be unlike anything he has ever owned."

Da was silent for a moment. "Do you know why I asked he perform the trials?"

I shook my head. "Cullen seems to understand and it is for him that I am respecting this decision."

"I asked him to perform the trials because I wanted a chance to get to know him," Da admitted, looking away. "Performing the tasks, planning out the exercises that will qualify as them…it allows me a chance to get to know him as both a leader and a man."

"Then why have you been so hostile to him? Why the questions to dissuade me? Putting this as an apparent attempt to bar us from being together?" I probed.

Da shifted on his seat, scratching the point of his ear that had gone slightly red. "I just got my daughter back and now I am to lose her to a man—a human—I do not even know? Possibly before I've had a chance to get to know her again?" He sighed and looked at me. "There is no doubt he loves you, da'len. And I know I have no right to demand anything of either of you, but…in this I can have time. Time with you, time with…him, time to…let go."

"'Let go'?" I murmured.

"All I ever heard growing up was how templars killed my father. How humans stole everything from the elves. As I've lived my life, I have seen evidence to support the hatred I was fed—but I have seen more evidence to contradict it." He seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say.

"M-Talitha, I…have seen the harvest that I have sown in my life. In you. In Mahanon. In Ellana. In Deshanna. What I forged in anger, clung to in ignorance, I wish nothing more than to break." He stood and began pacing.

"But I did not know where to begin with your—with him. Your mother was able to speak to him as a mother does a son. For her love of you—for his love of you—she already loves him." His dark eyes found mine.

"Your mother's beliefs of humans softened a long time ago. To be honest, I do not believe she ever really held them in the first place. But I…I hated humans. I reveled in that hatred. But…being the clan's smith, being forced to trade with them…bit by bit what I thought I knew—what I believed I hated—was chipped away. They were not so different from us—many, in fact, were far less fortunate than us. I saw love, saw selflessness, saw faith; I was treated well by many, my skills and goods praised." He continued to pace.

"I could not reconcile what I saw with what I believed, but still I clung. For the memory of a father I never knew. For the memory of a homeland I never walked upon. For wrongs that were never committed directly against me." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Then Ellana. Her first letter to us that talked about you was so focused on the fact that you had no vallaslin, that you had been branded by the Chantry, that you interacted with the humans with an ease and warmth. She could not believe it—it had angered her. Instead of being overjoyed with being reunited with her twin, her sister…she'd been angry with you." Anger colored his voice.

"It…tore at me. What was it you said? 'What hatred is worth such a price'? Do you know how many times I have had to ask myself that same question as I've witnessed the cost of my hatred?" He met my eyes again. I hardly knew what to say.
"Forgive me for asking it of him…truthfully I believed he would say no, but when he didn't…I knew I could not put him through the actual trials, but he was so…determined." He gave a wry smile.

"He is determined to woo you properly, da'len. I hope you are ready. That being said, I had to give him something. In that, I have a chance to get to know him. Will you allow me that?"

"I will, Da," I nodded. "Thank you for telling me."

"But know," he began, fighting a mischievous smirk, "I also agree to your terms and had no intention of denying you your bond. I would be honored to forge his armor and sword as it is him that we have to thank for your being here before me, though I will need to work with Harrit. Design what you want and I will see it done."

"Thank you, Da."

He gave me a nod. "Thank you, da'len, for being the light this old man needed."

I watched as he left. Waiting for Dagna to arrive, I began sketching what was slowly forming in my head for Cullen. I wanted to give him something that was beyond what he'd ever owned, but also something that reflected him. Not only how I saw him, but how everyone else did as well.

With a smirk pulling my mouth, I had my answer…and sincerely hoped Josephine meant what she said. Spare no expense. He deserves no less—both as our Commander and for all he has sacrificed. I would have to thank the Ambassador somehow as I felt she saw more of the man I loved than she let on.

"You asked for me?" Dagna questioned when she arrived.

"Yes," I nodded to the quizzical look she was giving me. "Tell me everything about runecrafting. I want to know what you can do."

…

CULLEN

"Dear Mia, I'm still alive. Your loving brother, Cullen"

Honestly, is it so difficult? We thought you were dead. Again. If the Inquisition was not on everyone's lips, we would never have heard that their fine commander survived Haven.

We've been hearing strange things about the templars lately. I am not sorry you left them. I thought your resignation was implied when you joined the Inquisition, but you meant something more, didn't you?

It's a fool's errand asking you to stay safe, but please try.

Your loving sister, (see how easy this is?)

Mia

Despite her chastising, I was glad of her letter. Knowing hope was not lost, knowing she still cared, I was glad I would have the chance to make things right. It had brought a little joy after the vigil for all those we had lost. Mourning, feeling guilt at being responsible, but swearing I would do everything in my power to care properly for my men, it had been a brief respite to see her familiar neat scrawl sitting atop my desk. It was a short letter, but still a response. To my surprise, another had sat below it, postmarked only a few days later. Chuckling, I figured she must have felt regret at the shortness of the prior letter.

The second letter had contained more of her usual content: questions about what I was doing, prompting me to look after myself, questions about the Inquisition; she described the farm they lived on, shared with Bran and his wife, what goods they traded; then updates on Bran and Rosalie. As she wrote about Bran, there was a line I had to reread a couple of times. His wife was with child and due to give birth any time. I was to be an uncle. Sitting back in my chair, a folded piece of parchment fell out from between the pages. Reaching down to scoop it off the floor, I unfolded it to read a messy hand. Glancing over it, I saw Bran had written it. Heart twisting, I was surprised. Neither he nor Rosalie had written to me in years.

My brother Cul Cullen,

I know it's most likely foolish to ask this of you, especially with your being a commander now and all the Inquisition is being called to do, but I'm going to anyway: I would love appreciate nothing more than for you to meet your little nephew or niece when the time comes.

I'm sorry that I gave stopped writing. I hope your reaching out I hope your last letter means I was glad to hear of your last letter and it brought me pride when Mia read it out to us. I, too, am glad you left the Order, especially given what we've heard of them. We hope We look forward to hearing more from you. Give Rosalie time. Maker, Mia probably didn't say anything and will murder me if she finds out that I did.

I hope you understand that we cannot travel—as much as we may wish to visit you (now that we know where you are)—with Lillian in her current state. Mia and Rose will be acting as her midwives. Maker, that's something I never thought I'd be putting in a letter. I can hardly believe I am about to be a father. I'm sure you'd crack some dry joke about how you can't either as I'm hardly fatherhood material (and I'd agree with you).

There was a large ink splotch where it seemed he had been thinking—or debating—over the next line.

Cullen. Brother—come home.

Bran

I chuckled at his humor and appreciated what he was saying without saying it. He meant home in both a literal and figurative sense. It was an invitation, a sign that he had not given up, not truly. I thought of how we'd grown, our lives changing. I, an uncle, and he, a father. We were men, no longer boys—a truth I knew but now it fully resonated. Despite his teasing, I believed Bran would be a great father. All the letters over the years, how Mia had described he and Rosalie's maturing. I'd burned with pride to hear of the man and woman they'd become.

Bran, quick-witted, kindhearted, and hardworking as he'd pulled equal weight with Mia in pulling them out of complete poverty with the help of the money I had occasionally sent to them. Together, with Rosalie's help, they'd established a farm, becoming Freeholders over the last decade. Raising animals and crops that supplied most of South Reach. Mia had taken to breeding mabari, hers being some of the most sought after in southern Ferelden. Bran had picked up Father's gift of carpentry, building homes and goods to sell. It was through this that he'd met Lilian, having built a home for her family. They'd been married a few years already and now had their first child on the way.

Rosalie had grown into a beauty according to Mia with no end of suitors, but she refused them all. A lover of gardening and baking she'd become quite popular for the confections she made in the small village where they lived. My gut twisted at Bran's words about giving her time. Did that mean she was angry with me? I could hardly blame her—blame any of them—but still it nagged at me. I was glad of their letters and set about writing them back.

I kept my responses short, but assured them of my safety and promised to write again soon. I wanted to promise that I would visit when able. We will have to be intentional about our time. I knew I would be in control of wether I saw them or not, but…I looked to my shaking hand as I stilled the quill. I could not see them in this state. If Mia was still as observant as ever, she would sense that there was something wrong within moments.

I thought of them, of seeing them. What would they think of me? If I took Meira with me, what would they think of her? Of us? Would they support us?
I thought of us going to join them when this was all over. Could we live amongst them? Would she want to? I was run away with imaginings of us living and working the farm alongside my family—a simple, quiet life. What I'd had once—had resented once—and now, ironically, longed for again; at least, a part of me did. A part of me knew, too, that such a life could bring about a restlessness as well and I would need to do something.

Yet, I still found my mind returning to that image of us, married, working side by side. I thought of what our home could look like. Thought of all we would do once free to do it. Reading together, Meira drawing, I doing honest work to give her a comfortable life.

Feeling heat pool in my gut, I allowed myself to think of the physical pleasures. What would it be like? My mind filled with a vision of us making love in a field; tall grass all around, a bubbling brook nearby, the sky blue above us. Filled with a tender love and smoldering desire, I began to imagine her in my arms.

Sensing someone's stare, I glanced up and as if she'd heard me thinking of her, she'd appeared at my door. I went scarlet, feeling like a boy caught stealing sweets. "M-Talitha?" She gave me a shy smile, a blush on her cheeks. "Wh-How did you get up here?"

Not saying anything, she slowly padded to me, her feet bare. She was still in that simple shift, her moon-white hair atop her head. Coming towards me, I turned my chair out and began to stand, but with a gentle hand, she pushed me back down to sit on the chair.

My heart began to pound as I watched her reach up and remove the pins that held her hair. The thick waves tumbling over her shoulders, framing her beautiful face as her eyes stared longingly at me. I swallowed thickly, my entire body freezing as she came closer. And closer.

She climbed atop my lap, her legs straddling mine. Heart pounding, fire burning in my blood, gut fluttering with nerves, I knit my brow. "Meira? What are you—"

She placed a finger on my lips to hush me before leaning forward. Her hands traveled over me, looking for purchase as her lips met mine. Hesitant at first, and then growing hungry. I had wanted to give her some time before resuming our previous affection—allowing time for her to heal and to maintain a slower pace—but it seemed her patience had run out.
I answered her and as I did, she seemed to grow only hungrier. Desire growing in my gut and beginning to overwhelm my rational mind, I lifted her to splay her on the desk before finding her lips again. Something prickled the back of my neck, a warning.

This was wrong…this was too soon. Meira was not ready for such heated affection. I was not ready for such affection—not truly. I pulled away from her, eyes shut tight and heaving in breaths in an effort to cool my blood.

"Meira," I panted. "I…we can't do this…not yet."

"Oh, Cullen," a voice that was not Meira's huffed. My blood went cold. "After all this time, you still fell for an imposter? And still resist?"

I snapped my eyes open to find a—the—desire demon atop my desk, provocatively awaiting me. No. No. No. "This isn't real."

Laughing huskily she leaned up on her elbows, a foot running along my leg. "Are you sure?"

Like a sword through my skull, her question fractured through me, bringing me back to that cage. "Be gone! You are not real. You are dead."

She rose, pressing up against me. "As long as your desire is real, so am I."

"No!" I shouted. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew I had to fight, to get away from her.

She put a hand to my cheek. "How do you know you're not still in that cage right now? That this isn't all some elaborate illusion I've conjured just for you? Just for you, my sweet templar." I shivered at the pet name. She circled me, a finger following my shoulders before coming to my back. The scars itched as she ran a finger down my spine. "You left them? Oh, my sweet templar. You wanted to remember me?"

"Be gone. Demon!" I snarled.

She merely laughed. "You're weak, little templar. No lyrium to save you this time." Coming to face me again, she held up a philter. "You could drink it, you know. Then you'd be able to resist me. To fight me. Without it, you know I'll win."

I grabbed her by the throat. "You. Are. Not. Real." She hissed and clawed at my arm, but I would not let go, only holding her throat tighter.

"That's not playing fair," another voice whispered, her lips against my ear.

I released the first and stumbled back, chair turning over. The one I'd choked furious, the other giving me a feline grin. Maker, help me. As they pounced to attack, I went for my sword. Talons sharp, fire blazing in their eyes, I yelled in defiance.

Instead of attacking me, they attacked Meira. Chained to the floor, weeping and calling out my name, they laughed as they tortured her—tortured her the way they'd tortured me long before the demons ever came. Blood magic made her cry out in agony as she felt whatever they were projecting in her mind. Breaking limbs, evisceration, burning flesh—every pain imaginable. On and on her screams went, raking across my mind, testing those mended places.

The demons laughed at her pain, goading her. I roared for her, straining against the chains that held me down. Out of the shadows, someone stepped into the light—glowing red, a cruel smile on his face as he bent over Meira.
Screaming in agony as red lyrium was dragged across her skin, crystals erupting in the wake of the furrows carved into her flesh. Her cries ceased, her blood pouring out and lapping against my knees. Looking up, I locked eyes with the monster that had killed her. It was me.

With a cry, I jerked awake, wrenching off my desk. Sweat pouring down my face, heart pounding in my chest, eyes darting around the room. My throat burned with the thirst, my entire body shaking with want of lyrium. My stomach lurched as I remembered the last image and I ran out the door to be sick over the battlements.

It kept coming and coming until there was nothing left but to dry heave. Finished, I grasped the crenellations to keep me steady as I trembled in the aftermath. Maker. Maker! Panting for breath, gulping down the cold night air, I ran a shaky hand through my hair. What in the Void was that?

I had always known when I was dreaming. Always been able to hold on to that truth even as I was dragged through my nightmares. But that…Maker. Sweet Maker. Sweet blood of Andraste. I could have sworn I heard the demon laughing. Rage burning in my chest, I made a vow. You will not taint this. Not again. I love Meira. There is nothing wrong in that. And I would never hurt her.

"Cullen?" Cassandra's voice came from behind me. I snapped my back straight my muscles screaming, the scars burning, but did not turn to her. "Cullen, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I barked, but my voice was raw and gave me away.

"You are not," Cassandra growled. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," I snapped. "I am fine."

"Cullen. You are trembling. It smells of vomit."

I whirled to her. "It's nothing!"

Cassandra shoved me back into my office and into the stone wall. "Do not lie to me."

Snarling, I threw her off of me. "I had a nightmare, alright! It made me crave the lyrium and then I vomited. Satisfied?"

Her dark eyes simmering with anger, she gave a nod. "Have your symptoms worsened?"

"No." I sighed. "It…simply surfaced questions I…have asked myself."

"Such as?" Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest.

I was quiet a long moment. Cassandra huffed and began to turn. I stared down at my shaking hands before clenching them into fists. "Am I doing the right thing?" I murmured.

She turned, a dark brow raised before her face softened. "Yes."

"How can you say that with such certainty?" I gave her a hard look.

"Because, Cullen, I have seen you rise to every challenge, every task with confidence, with integrity and succeed beyond our expectations," Cassandra stated, crossing her arms over her chest once more. "You are serving the Inquisition—and its people—with all that you have. Leading our men with wisdom and fairness while calling them to be better than they are—both in your leading and in the example you set. In so doing, they have protected the innocent."

"What of Haven? Does all your flattery apply there?" I growled, earning a dark look from her.

"I am no flatterer, you stubborn fool," she bared her teeth. "If I believed you were failing or incapable of this, I would replace you. I believe neither." She sighed. "You did—we all did—the best we could at Haven. Our enemy had forces we did not foresee."

"I should have foreseen. I should have been able to meet them. I would have been able to with lyrium."

"Cullen," she barked, getting into my face. "Those are all lies. You could not have foreseen it. You did meet them—having this conversation is proof of that. Lyrium is not the answer to your problems."

"Then what is?!" I begged.

"Perseverance."

"What?" I looked at her in bewilderment.

"Do not give up," Cassandra stared me down.

"I'm not giving up. I'm questioning wether I should have done this in the first place," I muttered. Rubbing the back of my head, I sighed. "Perhaps the Inquisitor was right."

"What would become of you if you began using it again?" Cassandra probed. "Would you have a passion for this cause? Would you care for your men as you do now—as we all see? Would you be you?" I looked into her dark eyes. "Would you love her?"

Closing my eyes tight to shut out what I had seen, I clenched my jaw. "No—at least…not as I would want. And how long would it last?"

"Then do not let this win," she growled.

"How do I fight…this?" I breathed, unable to confess that I was fighting my own mind.

"Have you spoken with Meira? With Solana?"

"Not yet," I gritted my teeth.

"So, you are questioning if this is the right thing to do because of the symptoms you are having without even having tried anything to help?" I could here the condescension in her voice.

"It is not because of the symptoms," I growled. "It is because I wish to fulfill my duty. To give this my all."

Her face softened again. "What ever made you think you weren't?"

Her question was quiet, but it hit me square in the chest. "My own doubt."

"Then put it before the Maker and Andraste. Continue to pray for strength. I will pray for assurance for you," Cassandra promised. What did I do to deserve such a friend? She put a hand on my shoulder. "And Cullen, do as your beloved commanded." My lips twitching, I gave her a nod. "Take care while we are gone."

"And you, Cassandra." As she turned to leave, a thought came to mind. "Cassandra?"

"Yes?"

"The Inquisitor demanded that we find a way for the templars to have no need of lyrium back in Haven." I let out a deep sigh. "I wish nothing to do with that life, but as I am the only templar that does not use lyrium, I am the only one who can try to learn to use my abilities without it. I need you to teach me."

…

Unable to sleep, I headed to the tasks Ellana had set before me while she was gone. The pile of rotted wood removed, I opened the trapdoor to descend the ladder to the level below. The dungeons still being worked on, we'd had to keep Denam within the guardhouse with the off-duty soldiers.

Alexius was being held in a different tower under guard to keep them from any conspiratorial efforts. Alexius had been a willing prisoner, but Denam preferred to mock and fight. Dismissing the off-duty soldiers within, with the exception of Denam's guard, the smell of lyrium filled my nostrils as I approached the man, the thirst licking at my throat. His pockmarked face twisted in a sneer as I approached his cell. I ordered the guard to unlock the door.

"Tell me what you know, Denam. Perhaps if you cooperate, the Inquisitor will be lenient when it comes time for your sentencing," I smirked.

"I was wondering when you'd show up, Knight-Commander," Denam mused.

"I am no longer a templar," I stated.

Denam let out a snort of disdain. "Yet, you stand in judgment of me with our emblem on your arms."

"You betrayed the men and women under your command. With full knowledge." Meredith flashed before my vision, my blind obedience to her with it. My compulsion to follow.

Denam's brown eyes rested on me, a knowing sneer on his mouth again. "Did you not do the same, Knight-Captain? In Kirkwall?"

With a snarl, I grabbed him by his shirt, wrenching him out of his cell as I brought him to my face. "I did not poison and corrupt my brothers and sisters!"

"No, but you did as you were told," Denam smiled, cruelly. "Just as I did."

"Until I didn't," I breathed.

"Do not act so self-righteous. As if you are some saint," Denam spit. "You abandoned the Order. Abandoned the men and women under your command, leaving Kirkwall to its fate." His face twisted in a sadistic smile. "All for what? Hmm? So you could screw a mage? Your soldiers whisper, Commander. From what I've heard, she's quite beautiful too. Wonder if she's just got an itch for Fereldan templars? Maybe she'd come entertain me for a bit?"

I saw red in my vision as I thought of this man harming Meira—a fierce need to protect roaring within me—and I nearly began beating him with my fists, but I restrained myself. He was taunting me, distracting me. I threw Denam back into his cell, earning a growl of frustration. I turned to his guard, one of Barris's men. "No food or water for the next three days. Withhold his lyrium as well. We'll see if that puts him in a more amenable mood."

"What?" Denam panicked. "No! I need the lyrium."

"Then are you willing to talk?" I questioned. I had allowed him to continue his rations for this exact moment. I knew it was every templar's worst fear, to endure the pain of withdrawal.

Denam glared at me. "I was only doing what I was told! The other officers—they're to blame!"

I scowled at him. "We found everything, Denam. You murdered the Knight-Vigilant. You knew red lyrium was poison!" He was silent. I turned away. "No lyrium."

"Wait!" He screeched. I kept walking. I heard him banging on the bars of his cell. "Wait!" I went to the door. "There is a greater power walking this world! I wasn't fool enough to deny it. You wouldn't have. I demand justice!"

I leveled a flat look at him as I turned back. "You are a disgrace. I would have died rather than serve a demon—than serve Corypheus. You paved the way for a demon to walk right in and destroy the Order."

"I listened to the Lord Seeker," Denam pleaded. "I did not know he was a demon. Yes, I knew about the red lyrium, but…everything was gone. Everything we knew was gone. We only wanted to serve. To see the mage threat ended. The Lord Seeker—the demon—seemed so righteous, so certain. Everything he said sounded…right."

"Do you feel no regret at your actions?" I questioned, feeling his words as my own when I had come under Meredith's command. "No remorse?"

Denam gritted his teeth. "The mages need to be put back in their place. Need to be culled like bad stock. Red lyrium was going to grant us the power to do that. To fight back…not only against the mages, but the Chantry as well. They used us. We were going to tear it down and rebuild. Rebuild something that truly served the people."

I shook my head. "And what was that? Worshipping the Elder One?"

"Yes," Denam murmured. "We would be his knights."

"Do you realize you exchanged one leash for another?" I asked.

"At least with this leash, we would have chosen it." Denam argued. "The Chantry leashes you—chains you—before you even realize you're captured. With the Elder One, it was my choice."

"Your choice, but not the knights beneath you. You chained them with lies."

Denam closed his eyes. "I will not explain myself to you."

"I understand more than you realize, but this was not the way," I offered.

"And what is? The Inquisition?" Denam laughed darkly. "What a farce. It is but the Chantry by another name. You are being used—you've exchanged one leash for another as well."

"Perhaps," I admitted. "But at least this leash grants me a clear conscience."

Denam looked at me. "What is it you would have of me, Commander? I cannot return, I would be killed—if I could even escape your stronghold. I will not endure the withdrawals. Ask your questions."

At his resignation, I began questioning him about the corrupted lyrium, the Red Templars, and the Lord Seeker. He knew little of where the red lyrium came from, but had gotten word that there were mining operations scattered around Thedas, but had no exact locations. The plan had been for the entirety of the templars within Therinfal to fall under the sway of red lyrium before Samson would step in to take command.

Denam had little information on Samson, but mentioned that he and the templars under his leadership had been camped a day or two away from the Redoubt. As to the Lord Seeker, the man—the demon—had kept mostly to his office except when needing to reassure the templars of the cause. Every time he spoke, Denam said the Seeker's words echoed the feel of every officer there. They wanted to serve, but the old ties were severed—the Order had been betrayed.

Disgusted with the man's excuses and having gathered all I believed I would, I made my way to Leliana. Light was beginning to show in the sky as I exited the guardhouse. Crossing the lower bailey, I made my way up the stone steps hugging the circular tower that housed the library and Leliana's dovecote—or crowcote in this case. I shook my head as I thought of the poor fools walking through the lower floor Solas had claimed during the day time—as well as the elf male himself; no doubt there would be falling excrement and feathers even with the cages. This castle needs to be reconfigured.

It was a defensible location—far more so than Haven, but there were things I would change of the structure if I could. Perhaps in time, such things could be accomplished, but for now we had to make do with what we'd been given. That said, I had recommended to Ellana that we begin constructing a village within the valley below that could not only become a home to castle staff, but house our mounts, our soldiers and any who desired to join the Inquisition.

A village would not only draw commerce and more income, but it would allow our people to have their families with them. A proper Chantry could be built for Mother Giselle, a tavern and inn, merchant shops, and whatever else we could have need of being in arm's reach instead of days away. A road up to Skyhold would need to be reestablished—evidence of one remained, but it would need to be sured up.

There was an ever growing list of occupations that were going to need to be filled. The chain of command for the domestic side of the castle and my own chain of command at the top of the priority list. I could not personally oversee all of the soldiers that were now under my command—as much as I wanted to do so.

Cutting through the laughably-sized kitchens, the disgruntled cook shoving a couple of small loaves of fresh bread into my hands as I passed—which I happily ate one of—I cut through the lower hall up to the library and eventually to where Leliana spent her time. I found the Spymaster kneeling before the shrine she'd erected to Andraste, silent prayers on her lips. I stood silent and waited for her to finish. When she stood and turned, there was no surprise on her face at my presence. The squawking of her blasted birds no doubt giving me away.

"Commander," she greeted.

"Sister Nightengale," I nodded as I extended the other loaf of bread to her. Quirking a red brow, she accepted it. "I have just finished interrogating Knight-Captain Denam."

"What have you learned?" She questioned after swallowing a bite.

"We need to return to Therinfal," I stated, my voice grim.

As I explained all I had learned, Leliana's gaze became icier and icier. We agreed we needed to return to Therinfal as discreetly as possible. She would send scouts with a contingent of my men. Once properly established, we wanted these kinds of tasks handled by the mage battalion and the templars, but this called for quick action.

I named off the men within South Reach that would be best suited and Leliana agreed to send her fastest agents to them. I made a mental note to have the soldiers assure that my family was safe. A gnawing worry at the thought that Red Templars still sat so close to them, even if we had alerted the Arl of the potential threat.

That done, Leliana divulged that she'd had Alexius interrogated as well, but the man had proven more than willing to talk for the sake of aiding his son, Felix. He had revealed the leader of the Venatori to be a woman named Calpernia. He knew little of her as they had not interacted much prior to him being sent to Redcliffe, but he did know that she had been tasked with seeking out and plundering elven ruins.

Beyond that, he knew little. Corypheus had enticed him with promises of saving his son and restoring his homeland to former glory. Leliana believed the latter had far less sway over the former as to why he had submitted to the ancient magister but loyalty to his homeland was not absent.

When asked about the dragon, Alexius could offer only that he had not been part of the group that had procured the beast. He did not know wether it was an archedemon for certain, but did not doubt his former master's capability to control such a creature. To Leliana's ire, Alexius did not know where Calpernia, Samson or Corypheus were currently, stating that they had more than likely abandoned their old locations, but he gave her what he knew before she'd returned him to his cage, a brief visit with Felix allowed as a reward. Her agents were already at work trying to discover what they could.

Now it was just a matter of waiting for both of us. Leaving her, a headache already forming, I made my way back down and through the main hall. Scaffolding had been built to begin patching the roof and rehang the chandeliers. Workers were already bustling about: fires being laid, candles and torches being lit while masons and carpenters were resuming the construction efforts.

Passing through the doorway leading to the garden area, I was surprised to see two people within. Solas and Meira were in the middle, Solas leading Meira through stretching maneuvers that contorted her body. A blush creeping into my face, I watched as she gracefully arched her back, pushing her chest forward for a breath before pulling it in. She did this a few times and I began to approach them.

Before I could call out and ask what they were up to, Solas directed her to plant her hands on the ground before thrusting her hips into the air. I swallowed thickly, my blood heating, before turning on my heel and striding back towards the door, unable to recall why I'd gone to the garden in the first place.

"Commander?" Meira's voice called. Maker.

I stopped walking and turned back to her. Thankfully, she was now standing as she looked at me curiously. Ghilani sat next to her, her intelligent eyes studying me. I glanced to Solas who was fighting a knowing smile, causing me to scowl at him. He turned away chuckling, walking further into the overgrown space. "Good morning, Ambassador."

"Good morning, Cullen," she smiled. Her olive skin was glistening in the early light, the exercises clearly having taken their toll. She was dressed in a loose linen shirt and very loose linen breeches.

"Wh-what were you doing?" I questioned.

"Solas has begun training me in focusing techniques. These exercises are meant to help me learn to focus my breathing while also gently rebuilding my strength. A precursor to withstanding the physical pain demons cause." A blush grew on her cheeks. "I hope that you do not mind…"

"Of course not. You are with Solas to master your abilities. I trust you," I assured her.

She chuckled. "That's not what I meant, Cullen."

Puzzled, I knit my brow. "Then what did you mean?"

She blushed some more before pulling on the breeches she was wearing. "Th-these are yours."

I blinked and looked at her again. The tunic was far too big for her and the patch at the knee of the breeches, the wear… I blushed deeply. "H-how…wh…" I had to clear my throat, which had gone oddly tight.

"Cole," she kept her eyes on the ground, her lovely face blooming with color. "He knew I needed something else to wear for this, unless I wanted my smallclothes on display, so he helped."

Perhaps I need to give the boy a chance. "I-I…You…I hope the exercises help."

"They were tiring, but they helped me to feel a bit more at ease," she explained.

I glanced around and noticed a stone bench. "Would you like to sit down?" I asked, gesturing to the bench.

"That would be wonderful," she breathed. I offered my arm and she gratefully took it.

Leading her over to the bench, Ghilani on our heels, we sat. Ghilani nuzzled Meira's knee, causing Meira to smile gently and pet the wolf. Once she'd gotten her fill, Ghilani came to me. Her silver eyes studied me again, but she made no move to come nearer. Unsure what to do, I simply studied her. She was a magnificent animal.

I felt Meira take my hand, pulling my glove off, she offered it to the wolf—just as she had done when she had saved its life. Ghilani sniffed at my palm before placing her muzzle in it. Hesitantly, I began to pet her, earning a contented licking of her chops in response. We sat in silence for a time, enjoying each other's presence and the sun as it began to rise in earnest.

"Cullen," Meira murmured after a time.

I turned to look at her and found her blushing again. "Yes?"

Her jade eyes flicked up to me before she took my gloved hand in hers. "Cullen, I want…I wanted to tell you how…veryproud I am of you."

"I…thank you," I smiled gently at her.

"I…didn't want you to think that, because I asked you to do what you could for the pain, that I…do not appreciate what you are trying to do," she said softly. "I think it is…very brave, but I do not want you suffering…do not want you punishing yourself."

I glanced away from her. "I know. What you said is true. I atone through my actions, not through my pain."

"I spoke with Solana," she stated. "She gave me several things to discuss with you."

Turning my eyes back to her, she blushed again before she began to explain it all. I told her that I had previously used the salve Solana recommended as well as the elixirs, but it seemed Solana found a way to make them more potent. As she went on, I found no fault in anything she said, welcoming it all, until she mentioned a way to aid sleep. She was flustered speaking about it, I was doubly so thinking about it.

"If you believe it would help," she breathed, "I would be more than willing to do that for you."

"Th-that's not…necessary," I assured, clearing my tight throat again. "I shall try everything else you have recommended first." She gave a small nod, worrying on her lip. "I am…surprised you did not know some of these things yourself."

She quirked a brow. "Why?"

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. "It..is typically the Tranquil of a Circle that care for the templars who…are struggling. It prevents the likelihood of word spreading of…our addiction and weakness in it."

Looking confused for a moment before her eyes went wide. "That's it!"

"What is?" I questioned, bemused at the look on her face.

"Thank the Maker, that was going to drive me mad!" She chuckled. "I knew I recognized your symptoms. Knew I recognized the way you…" She blushed. "Th-the way you…smell."

"'Smell'?" I chuckled, quirking a brow.

"Y-yes," she glanced at me through her lashes.

"How do I smell?" I whispered as I leaned towards her.

She bit her lip and squirmed a little at the question. Heat simmered in my gut, my eyes going to her full lips as they parted. "Like a forest in the summer. Warm and comforting, but there was a subtle floral scent that…was different from…the tower." I kissed her cheek, thinking of that lake near my boyhood home. "Oakmoss and elderflower. Why did I not remember?"

"If you cared for any templars that were suffering while Tranquil…perhaps breaking the Rite made it difficult to remember?" I mused. "Are other memories difficult to recall?"

"Some, yes," she admitted. "This is why I am ready to be able to enter the Fade. To get answers to all of these…mysteries."

Something was bothering her, and though she did look more at ease, she was still thin and looked exhausted. I wanted to kiss her, to hold her in my arms, to comfort her. "M—"

"—Cullen? Talitha?" Elolora's voice came from our side. We both turned to find her entering the garden. Little Fioren was strapped to her, Camlen holding her hand.

"Hello, Elolora," I greeted. "Camlen."

The boy's eyes went wide before he hid behind his mother's legs. Elolora chuckled, tucking some of his hair behind his ear after petting his head. "I am glad you are here, Cullen. I wanted to speak with you about plans for the garden. It will be easier to have you here." Elolora looked to Meira. "You are more than welcome to join us, Talitha."

"I will," she smiled.

I stood and offered her a hand. Slipping her dainty one in my rather large hand by comparison, I helped her stand before looping her arm through mine. She blushed, but did not withdraw. We followed Elolora around the garden as she spoke of what she wanted done and where she believed beneficial plants could be placed without distracting from the ornamental look of it.

The ground was fertile and could host any number of plants, we only needed seeds. She expressed her want to prioritize an apothecary's garden. I agreed, divulging plans to begin construction on a village in the valley below. The ground was fertile there as well, promising a future of crops once the land was prepared and planted—and mages thawed it.
Wanting to take a look at the well in the middle of the garden, she handed Fioren to Meira. With a twinge of sadness for her, I watched a fleeting look of longing flit over her face before she schooled her features into an impassive mask. I went to her side, putting an arm around her waist as I leaned down to peer at the babe. She had grown, becoming more and more active with each day.

Fioren blinked open her eyes and as they fell on me, she smiled. I chuckled before squeezing her little fist and telling Meira that I had received word that I was to be an uncle soon. Straightening, I glanced at Meira who was studying me with a strange look. When I caught her looking a me, she shifted her gaze to the babe in her arms and congratulated me. Camlen studied his eldest sister curiously, unsure what to make of her.

I strode towards Elolora who told me that if it were possible, she wanted to turn the well into a fountain. Large enough at the base to hold a good amount of water, but with two tiers above. I told her I would make a note of it and consult with our builders. We discussed what kind of work and how many workers she would need before continuing on.

The columns needed to be patched, the roof more so. It seemed through the garden, however, much of the main keep could be reached via various stairwells. Several doors sat within the surrounding covered walkway. We investigated them, finding several rooms in disrepair that could be used for various things. There was a stone gazebo at the back of the garden that was in surprisingly decent shape. We spoke a little longer before we heard Fioren crying.

Elolora returned to the babe, and I did not miss the sadness in Meira's eyes before she looked away from me. Elolora assured her that Fioren was simply hungry before taking Camlen's hand to go and speak with Solana and Bethany about what they most wished planted. I went to Meira, who stared after her family. I wrapped her in my arms, pulling her back against my chest.

She leaned against me and I placed a kiss on her temple before dragging my lips down her skin to her cheek. "What is wrong, my darling?"

"It's nothing," she murmured. "I am simply tired. I should return to the infirmary. I will ensure Cole returns your clothing to you." She pulled out of my arms.

Hesitating a moment, I grabbed her by her hip and turned her into me. Pulling her into an embrace, I held the back of her head. "It is not nothing. Something is troubling you."

"You've enough troubles of your own, Cullen," she murmured. "You do not need to add mine to them."

I backed away and took her face in my hands. Her eyes closed for a moment, her features twisted in pain before she blinked to look at me. I pressed my nose to hers. "I have broad shoulders, my love. Give me your burdens."

She let out a shaky breath. "I love you, my lion."

I felt an odd twisting in my gut as she breathed those words. There was something to them that unsettled me, but I could not put my finger on what. "Meira," I whispered in her ear, "My love. You can tell me anything. You can talk to me about anything."

"I…I know," she murmured. "I will, but not yet."

I helped her back to the infirmary, worry dripping in the back of my mind for her. As we walked, we spoke of the battalion, the increasing interest from the mages. We discussed how we would test those interested, when and how we would train, how we would involve the templars.

Logistics would be difficult initially, but once we had a rhythm, I had no doubt it would grow into something beyond our hopes. I certainly prayed for such results. Leliana and I had high hopes for not only the templars and mages working together—as did Ellana—but also for how they could be utilized once fully trained.

At the thought, I suggested that she and I resume training together as practice. If we could learn how to properly spar—though I would not have my abilities—perhaps we could imitate it for the others. She agreed, though she apologized that she had lost not only the swords I had commissioned for her, but also the staff in the events of Haven. I told her not to worry, that I would take care of it. Delivering her back to Solana, I set about my tasks for the day.

…

The weeks passed in much the same fashion. More and more people arrived, the tent village in the valley below beginning to stretch as far as the eye could see beyond Skyhold's wall. Reconstruction continued, more of the castle being discovered and taking shape. Word came that the Inquisitor had rescued the missing soldiers from the Fallow Mire and they were on their way to Skyhold. Ellana and the others were now on their way to meet Hawke in Crestwood. I thanked the Maker in my nightly prayers and asked for their safe return.

I had selected soldiers in which to delegate leadership to in order to look over the ever growing recruits. As more people arrived, as more of the castle was revealed, the more I was responsible for and the more work our soldiers had beyond protecting the Inquisition. The village construction began, our people eager to have a place to call home that was not made of canvas. The stables within the keep were reconstructed, though too small to house all of the Inquisition's mounts, it would hold the leadership's and inner circle's steeds.

While all of this was good and slowly releasing some of the tension in my shoulders, Meira and I were getting less and less time together. We'd begun our training together though it was novice level as Meira was still recovering. This training occurring after her training with Solas, and as she was getting her strength back, she was now attending meetings and able to meet with me in my tower.

All the meetings were professional and brief as we were framing up the battalion, thus Barris, Fiona and Henry were in attendance. Our discussions pertained to training, to the types of magic that would be most beneficial for mages to learn in order to fight, how we would get the two factions to work jointly. Initially, it was decided that training would consist of the two groups sparring with each other, testing each other's abilities. Once both sides had an idea of what they were up against, then they could learn how to defend themselves against it.

It was in my office or the War Room that Meira had to meet with the mages as well and I quickly realized that she would need her own workspace. Request after request came; demand after demand. Education, magical equipment, materials for studying and enchantment, Helisma presenting areas of creature study that needed to be addressed.

Not to mention the magic needed within the castle itself as Meira presented the idea of utilizing the mages to speed reconstruction as we were quickly outgrowing what limited space we had. I felt foolish for not having thought of it sooner and readily agreed. There was far less accidents, far more goals met within a day and far less restlessness in the mages as they helped.

We'd been in the lower bailey, overseeing the walkway that connected my tower to the main keep being completed when we all heard a great cry of joy. Turning, we saw Solana running towards a group of people from where she had been healing a soldier a moment ago—the amount of people coming to see her overwhelming the small room of the gatehouse and having to be spread out into the bailey.

Her cries could be heard throughout as she threw herself at the group—it was two young men and two young women. Varying shades of Solana's buttery blond hair among them—with exception of one with raven-black hair—along with looks of confusion until Solana must have told them who she was because soon enough they were rejoicing as well as they pulled her into a hug. I had looked to Meira to find tears spilling down her cheeks, a beautiful smile on her lips for her friend.

Solana pulled them over to Meira and introduced them. It was Solana's family. They had found each other as they'd fled during the rebellion, the circumstances of which could only be explained by the Maker. Word had reached them of Skyhold and they had traveled here seeking refuge. They were not the only ones. We'd received a number of new mages and templars seeking out their brethren and safety from the war that was still raging in places—but seemed to be quickly dying out in the wake of larger problems.

Soon, Meira was fully recovered and we began training the battalion. It began with testing those who wanted to join. It was going to be a limited group, at least in the beginning, to see if this could actually work. Meira and I agreed that we needed to be selective as to who would join. It needed to be mages that wanted to serve alongside the templars, not mages looking for an excuse to fight them. The test for the mages was to see with what kind of ease they could summon the types of weapons Meira could—each mage allowed to choose which weapon they wanted to attempt. After a few, we had a crowd of onlookers watching with interest.

Mage after mage tried, but few could do what she did and it became clear we would need to find another kind of battle magic that might be more easily learned. During my secret training with Cassandra, who had stayed behind from traveling with the Inquisitor as she was eager to begin training with me, she suggested seeking out a Knight Enchanter that could instruct capable members of the battalion. Knight Enchanters were some of the most elite and privileged mages—given sanction to fight in battle by the Chantry. I had heard of them, but never observed one fighting. Cassandra commented on their remarkable skill and said such magic could be very useful in a battalion meant to fight our enemies.

I agreed, presenting the idea before Leliana, Josephine and Meira. They readily agreed. Meira believed Ellana would also be interested in learning this particular magic, but recommended that we seek out other masters willing to teach her so that she could decide for herself. Her reasoning that Ellana, as Inquisitor, should have a particular magic to set her apart—her and her inner circle.

At that, she'd also made a recommendation for the mess hall that was still in disrepair. Ellana had requested that the main hall of the keep be made into a banquet hall where everyone was welcome to eat. While she wanted it clear that she was the leader of the Inquisition, she also wanted to make it clear that we were all the Inquisition. The dais would remain—a throne having been commissioned—but her people were allowed to be within her keep as it was not hers alone. Large banquet tables were being made, but for now meals were taken all over the place.

It was Meira's idea to turn the mess hall into a tavern named "The Herald's Rest". As a gift to Ellana and the Inquisition. People could eat, socialize and drink just as they had done at Flissa's tavern in Haven. It would be in remembrance of those we'd lost in Haven, of where we'd come from, and a look to the future where we'd eventually be able to rest. Josephine and I had eagerly accepted the idea and we quickly went to work on the building.

Letters were sent out seeking tutors for the Inquisitor and her inner circle. We hit a smooth rhythm within Skyhold, things well underway on all fronts. We were awaiting news of the tutors, of Therinfal and Samson, of Calpernia, and the Inquisitor. Meira was growing stronger and coming into her own in her titles. Skyhold and the village below were quickly taking shape. Mages and templars were training and working together.

I was proud of my soldiers, proud of this Inquisition, proud of its people. Yet, beneath it all, my symptoms wereworsening, my nightmares becoming more horrific. The salve and elixirs helped with the pain, but I barely had time to eat or drink, let alone bathe. Meira and I hardly saw each other outside of our responsibilities, so anything else was impossible.
I feared it was wearing on her that we rarely had time together that was not interrupted by multiple runners or spent with other people. Our affection was even less than it had been—stolen kisses on the cheek when we were passing if we could, words of love exchanged here and there. I could see her—sense her—slipping away from me. Not that her love for me had waned, nor had mine for her, but something was troubling her and drawing her further and further within herself.

I lay in bed one night, unable to give into the nightmares that awaited me. Instead, worry of Meira plagued me until I had no choice but to wrench the covers off myself and quickly dress before descending the ladder and hurrying from my office. She was still sleeping in the infirmary as she had no room or office to call her own yet, so I hurried down the stone steps below the tower, nearly running into her on the middle landing.

"M-Talitha?" I questioned as I had to grasp her elbows to keep her from falling. "Maker's breath, are you alright?"

"Y-yes…no," she admitted. "No, Cullen, I am not."

"What's wrong?" I worried.

She was silent for a time, tears pooling in her eyes. "Cullen…Cullen I…I think we should…I think we…" She was swallowing down tears. Anger, pain and sorrow on her face.

"What is it, my darling?" Worry was clenching my gut. I did not like the look on her face nor the words she had spoken. It was as if she were trying to tell me goodbye.

Her eyes met mine, silver in the starlight. "Cullen, I think we should—"

The horn announcing the Inquisitor's return tore through the quiet night just as I heard footsteps on the stairs below. "Commander! Commander!" It was a runner. I didn't want to turn from Meira, I wanted her to finish what she was going to say. "Commander! Urgent word from the Inquisitor, Commander! All advisors to the War Room, immediately!"

Meira's eyes shifted between mine. I lifted my hands to cradle her face, but she stopped me. "Go, Cullen. They need you."

"You need me," I growled.

"The Inquisition must come first," she stated, her voice frighteningly empty as she stepped away from me and descended the stairs.

"M-Talitha," I called, causing her to turn to me. Her eyes shone with tears. "As soon as this is done, I will speak with you."

"I know, Cullen," she whispered.

Tearing myself away from her and cursing everything, I ran up to my quarters and donned my armor before rushing to the War Room. Leliana, Josephine, Ellana, Hawke and a Grey Warden were all already within, turning to look at me as I entered. I apologized for my tardiness as I took my spot.

"What is the urgent news, Inquisitor?" Leliana probed. "Why did you not send word ahead?"

"We have a huge problem. A huge friggin' problem," Ellana spit.

"What?" I growled, hackles rising.

"Corypheus has ensnared the Wardens."

---

Thank you for reading! Faves, follows and reviews are always welcome and appreciated!