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*

55. Of Metal and Magic

CULLEN

"What do you mean he's 'ensnared' them?" I questioned, my eyes shifting between Ellana, Hawke and the Grey Warden.

"My name is Jean-Marc Stroud," the Grey Warden introduced himself, "and I assume you are Commander Cullen."

"Yes," I inclined my head. "We thank you for your assistance…and service Warden Stroud."

Stroud gave a nod of appreciation. He was older, grey streaks in his otherwise cropped black hair. He had kind, if sharp, eyes and a rather large mustache. Clearly Orlesian in the thick accent of his voice, but he seemed far less frilly than his other countrymen—no doubt due to his life as a Warden.

"Hawke and I first met briefly in the Deep Roads near Kirkwall," Stroud began to explain, "Meeting again during the Qunari invasion some years later." Memories of Kirkwall flashed before my eyes. For a moment, I swore I saw Meredith standing in the corner of the War Room. Blinking, she disappeared. "Hawke…" Stroud seemed unsure how to word the next part.

"My father's blood was used in a ritual by the Grey Wardens to imprison Corypheus within a tower located in the Vimmarks. I discovered this after some…possessed Carta tried to kill me," Hawke explained. Marian's eyes fell to me, "You…may recall, Commander, when some of them tried to sneak into the Gallows and attack Bethany?"

At her mentioning the Gallows, I was taken back there for a few moments. Having to push away the memories and the thirst as it sprung up, I sifted through everything until I remembered the strange encounter. They'd been cut down with relative ease, but the templars that had been on patrol and had dealt with the threat described them as acting very strange.
Bethany had been beside herself and when word came from Marian that she had been targeted as well, I requested of Meredith that Bethany be given temporary leave when Marian requested. Marian wanted her sister with her as all they knew was that the Hawke family was in danger as the "blood of the Hawke" was what they were after. When Bethany returned, she did not elaborate on what had occurred beyond stating something about the evilness of blood magic.
"Yes, I recall."

Hawke's stare lingered for a moment before she continued.
"The Grey Wardens had enlisted my father's help with containing this new threat. Only my father's blood could undo the spell that was utilized." Hawke rolled her shoulders back.
"When we went to investigate, the spell my father had been used to strengthened had maintained the seal upon Corypheus placed thousands of years ago. My mother's life was threatened by the Wardens—she'd be spared in exchange for my father's cooperation. Despite the magic, Corypheus was still able to reach out an influence the wardens guarding his prison, one of them sent the Carta after me. I released Corypheus in order to kill him and keep my family safe.
"Upon his release, he was…confused—he had no idea that over two thousand years had passed. He mentioned the Golden City. Cried out to Dumat. Believed me and the others to be from Tevinter. He kept saying that he 'seeks the light'. He was powerful, but we killed him," Hawke swore.

"Then Hawke reached out to me when Varric sent word of what happened in Haven. It is only by the Maker's grace that it reached me when it did," Stroud interjected.
"Weisshaupt was happy to put the matter to rest when word had reached us of what Hawke had done, but an archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal. I feared Corypheus might possess the same power—why else would the ancestral Wardens have imprisoned him instead of slaying him? So I began to investigate, but I uncovered only clues, no proof. Then, not long after, every Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling."

"The Calling?" Leliana questioned, her voice alarmed.

"What is the Calling?" I questioned.

"The Calling tells a Warden that the Blight will soon claim him. Starts with dreams. Then come whispers in his head," Stroud explained, his voice heavy. "The warden says his farewells and goes to the Deep Roads to meet his death in combat."

"And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now," Ellana growled. "Because of Corypheus."

"We do not know for certain, but that is my suspicion," Stroud corrected.
"Even as a senior warden, I heard only the vaguest whispers of Corypheus. He is a magister as well as a darkspawn—and speaks with the voice of the Blight. That lets him affect the minds of Wardens, since we are tied to the Blight ourselves.
"So it is possible, but wether he is truly behind it or not does not matter. The danger is that the Wardens believe this Calling is real, and they will act accordingly."

"'Act accordingly' meaning what exactly?" I probed.

"We are the only ones who can slay archdemons," Stroud stated.
"Without us, the next Blight will consume the world." Stroud stood tall and took a deep breath in. Hawke's face had gone hard, rage in her eyes.
"Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights before we all perished. When I protested the plan as madness—when I suggested that Corypheus might have something to do with the Calling we were all hearing—my own comrades turned against me. The Warden mages in particular; I trained some of those Wardens myself."

"How much blood must be shed by good men following bad orders?" Hawke bit out, her eyes flashing to me.

"Maker!" I swore at the same time. Blood magic ritual? What in the Maker's name will it be? That doubt creeped up again if I was doing the right thing not taking lyrium. Cassandra and I had been unsuccessful thus far in drawing out my abilities; few could triumph over maleficars, templars being the most capable.

"Grey Wardens are gathering in the Western Approach," Stroud announced, "at an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. It is there we will find answers."

"Ser Stroud," Leliana spoke. "Is there any chance you know where Warden-Commander Evelyn Cousland is? I fear that Corypheus's influence may reach beyond Orlais."

"I fear I do not," Stroud shook his head. "She disappeared some time ago. It is possible she joined the rest of the Wardens, although I cannot say for certain."

"Thank you, Warden Stroud," Ellana nodded to the man who gave a slight bow in response. "If you would, I wish to speak privately with my advisors. Please, both of you, get a decent meal and some rest. I will speak with you in the morning."

"We should head for the Western Approach as soon as possible, Your Worship," Stroud rebutted.

"I understand, but there are preparations and plans that need to be made before I depart again for what I'm sure will be a long period of time," Ellana stated.

"Of course," the man nodded.

"We'll see you in the morning," Hawke waved a goodbye.

Ellana waited until they had exited the room before letting out a deep breath and running a hand over her face. "Fenedhis! Is there anyone on this blighted world that he hasn't corrupted?!"

"The Inquisition," I straightened, my voice adamant. "Now is not the time to lose hope, Inquisitor. We do not yet know if they are truly subject to his will. We have Blackwall and now Stroud; we brought most of the templars over, even if we were too late for some. Corypheus's grasp is not inescapable."

"I know, Cullen," Ellana clenched her jaw.

"We must keep this quiet for now," Leliana advised. "Until we know for certain what is happening within the Wardens."

"How do you suggest we do that? People will question why the Inquisitor is leaving for the Western Approach so soon after returning," Ellana pointed out.

"I may have the solution there," Josephine stated.
"Empress Celene has announced a Grand Masquerade to be held at the Winter Palace in a few months' time—this is to serve as an auspices for peace talks between herself, the Grand Duke and Ambassador Brialla. Leliana and I suspect this will be the most opportune time for the assassin to strike—not only for the ease of cover such a situation provides, but also due to the limits the Grand Game sets." Josephine let out a sigh.
"This announcement was not received well, as with it a ceasefire has also been called between her and Gaspard's soldiers across Orlais. It has only tipped the scales further—the political situation in the Empire is dangerously unstable. It has complicated matters further."

"Everything in the Empire complicates matters," I growled. Orlesians. "It's the Orlesian national pastime."

"Turn your nose up at the Grand Game if you like, Commander," Leliana scoffed. "But we play for the higher stakes and to the death."

"The Court's disapproval can be as great a threat as any of our adversaries," Josephine interjected. "We must be vigilant to avoid disaster."

"What are you suggesting, Ambassador?" Ellana sighed.

"Communications between the troops and Val Royeaux have ceased," Leliana informed her as she handed me the report.
"I received word shortly before your return as I had sent spies into the area on Josephine's suggestion. The troops agreed to cease hostilities, then retreated to their camps to await the outcome of the peace talks. Gaspard's marshal sent a final communiqué reporting a rash of desertions due to the Empress's announcement and Gaspard's agreement to the peace talks, but since then nothing has been heard from the marshal. My spies are unable to locate the soldiers as undead and demonic activity have steadily increased in the area for unknown reasons. There are rifts, but not enough to warrant what they have seen."

"If we are able to bring stability to the area," I theorized as I read over what had been observed.
"We could garner the Court's approval, thus facilitating an invite to the peace talks. Perhaps even one extended from the Duke himself as he'd most benefit." I looked up from the report to meet Ellana's gaze.
"You will need a decent contingent of soldiers to accompany you as we do not know all that is occurring there, we will need to be prepared for anything."

"Exactly, Commander," Josephine nodded.

"However, a direct route for our soldiers from Skyhold to the Plains will be difficult," I warned. "We cannot pass through the mountains as we do not have the mounts or equipment to equip the troops for such an excursion. What about the Emerald Graves?"

"My spies were able to cut through the forest, but not without difficulty," Leliana's blue eyes met mine.
"Not only due to the terrain, but also having to avoid a group calling themselves the 'Freemen of the Dales'. These men seem to be targeting both armies in the civil war that are stationed in the area. Luckily, we've been contacted by a man calling himself 'Fairbanks'. He claims to have information of value to the Inquisition.
"This information is considered so valuable to him that he has requested our aid in rooting out these Freemen from the Emerald Graves—thus protecting the common folk he's taken in—in exchange for it. From what my spies have observed of the man, he is well acquainted with the area and its terrain; if we help him, he could guide our troops through to the Plains."

"We would benefit the most from this, Inquisitor," I advised.
"We would establish a fast route through Southern Orlais; provide stability in the area, thus bolstering the Inquisition's legitimacy and influence and be able to establish outposts all throughout the area as you pass through to the Approach."

"It is up to you, of course," Leliana interjected, "If you would prefer, I could assign scouts to Hawke and Stroud to sneak them through to the Approach to more quickly discover what the Wardens are doing."

"Why not both?" Ellana suggested.
"Sneak them through so we can obtain that information faster, while we march through the Dales? Creating a distraction to better hide Hawke and Stroud and keep our enemy aloof of what we know?" Ellana glanced between us all.
"Either way we need to secure an invitation to the Winter Palace, but we must know what has happened to the Wardens as soon as possible. I do not need to be present in the Approach for them to discover what the Wardens are up to. Would this not be the best solution?"

Maker, she is clever. It is no wonder she should lead us. "Yes, it would be, Inquisitor."

"Then it is settled," Ellana stated.
"Spymaster, gather a team to escort Hawke and Stroud. It is to be of the utmost secrecy—only your most trusted agents. I want you to also send scouts ahead of us to gather what information they can—I do not want us walking in blindly. Scout Harding and her team preferably.
"Commander, gather troops enough to march us through the Dales. Not too large, lest we be considered a threat to the Empire, but large enough to get us through safely and establish posts along the way as well as seeing to any relief efforts that may need to occur. You can send more once our foothold is thoroughly established.
"Ambassador, send communications to the Duke and the Empress of what we intend; keep it polite, but let them make no mistake that this will happen. I want us to be on the move within a fortnight."

"And if Hawke and the Warden find something far worse than anticipated?" I questioned.

"They are to wait and observe until I get there. We must not alert our enemy," she ordered.

"Very good, Inquisitor," I nodded.

"Will you tell us what occurred in Crestwood?" Leliana probed.

Ellana quickly recounted the details of what their time had entailed in trying to reach Stroud. Undead, a giant rift in the lake, a mayor that had drowned his own people to prevent the spread of the Blight and the bandits that had been attacking the area. They'd snuck into their keep and taken down the force holding it.

"There now sits a strategically placed keep waiting for troops to occupy it," Ellana offered.

"And I will gladly take it," Leliana gave a small smile. "It's location will be invaluable for collecting information and moving my agents."

"I am in desperate need of a decent night's sleep," Ellana grumbled. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

We informed her of all that had occurred while she was away. She was pleased with the progress of the reconstruction and glad to know that we had gained leads on Samson and Calpernia. She asked for a report on how the mage battalion and the templars were faring and I reported that progress was slow, but promising thus far.
We told her of Cassandra's suggestion of the mages being trained as Knight Enchanters and Meira's subsequent suggestion of seeking out other masters not only to train the Inquisitor, but her inner circle as well. Ellana seemed excited at the idea. She inquired after her sister and Barris as to how they were handling their roles and seemed pleased with the report.

"How is Dagna settling in?" Ellana questioned. "Has she found a solution for Bethany?"

"I believe she's settled in well. She's certainly very…cheerful," I observed. The dwarf never seemed to have a bad day, even as she caused small explosions and mishaps in the undercroft. This usually resulted in Harrit dragging himself away from his beloved forge and moodily grumbling through the main hall to go sulk in the armory. She had claimed she was close to creating something for Bethany, but had not succeeded as of yet.

A smirk pulled on Ellana's lips. "Is that a bad thing?"

"I'm concerned she'll cheerfully blow up Skyhold with one of her experiments," I deadpanned. "But the risk is small at present."

Ellana chuckled. "Ever the optimist, Commander."

"I try, Inquisitor," I said as I fought a smirk.

"If I may, Inquisitor," Josephine began, "There are several political negotiations I need your opinion on. I promise to keep this as brief as possible, but they do require rather speedy responses."

"Of course, Josephine," Ellana sighed. "Commander. Leliana." She gave a nod to each of us in dismissal.

Leliana and I headed out the doors of the War Room. To my surprise—and lack of—Hawke was perched atop one of the intact stone benches of the hallway. Maker, I do not have time for this. I need to find Meira.

"Commander," Leliana called and biting back a growl I turned to her.

"Yes?" I quirked a brow.

"Word arrived from our party sent to Therinfal as I was en route to this meeting," Leliana informed me.

"Good. I would have a copy of your report delivered without delay," I stated.

"As you say, Commander." Leliana gave a slight bow. "Good evening."

"Good evening." Though it was far closer to morning than evening at this point. I turned to Hawke who was studying me curiously. "Is there something you needed, Hawke? I'm afraid I have rather pressing matters to attend to."

"I'll be brief, then," she promised as she stood. "Before I left Kirkwall, the templars there had begun using red lyrium."

"Maker, no," I swore. "I left them in Ruvena's hands. I trusted her to lead them well. How could she be so foolish? She was there the night Meredith went mad."

"Perhaps someone convinced them that the two were separate issues from each other? That Meredith was simply mad and the lyrium was not the problem."

"Who?"

"That I couldn't say, Cullen," Hawke shook her head.
"I just thought you should know. Aveline said she would keep an eye on the situation, but her hands are so full at the moment…" Hawke let out a breath.
"Sebastian is threatening to invade the city to bring it back under control, but its just a guise so he can raze the city looking for Anders. I was the only thing keeping him at bay. He didn't agree with my decision, but he respected me enough to leave Anders be."

"Then is this not your doing, Hawke?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "You spared Anders." I did not hide my anger at this. I could not believe she had spared the man after what he had done.

Hawke's eyes burned with rage. "I spared my friend in hopes he would find his way again. You did not see the broken man I did after he saw the fruit of his labor. He was sick, Cullen."

"Then you should have put him down like the mad dog that he is," I spit.

"Like you did for your little Neria?" Hawke bared her teeth. "Last I knew, you'd burned her flesh with the brand instead of killing her."

If I were a lesser man, I would have slapped her. "You were the one that suggested I use the brand in the first place!"

"Exactly!" Hawke got in my face. "Because death is not always the answer. Why did she deserve to be spared and not Anders?"

"Because Anders decimated half a city in the name of mage rights! She was tortured until she went mad—she never hurt anyone."

"And if Anders saw the error of his ways? If he wanted a chance to redeem himself? Who are you to deny him that?" Hawke argued.

"He could have chosen to walk away numerous times before he set off that explosion," I growled. "It's so convenient to have a change of heart after you've already wrought your sin upon the world."

Hawke scoffed. "You're one to talk."

I blinked and looked away. Touché, Hawke. "I do not deny the man I am."

"And you believe Anders does?" Hawke quirked a brow.

"Where is he?" I spread my arms. "I do not see him trying to fix his mistakes. I do not see him doing anything but hiding from what he brought about."

"He was not solely responsible. Do not even try to pull that, Cullen," Hawke bit.
"You and Meredith. Orsino. The Viscount. The Guard. Elthinia. Everyone in that bloody city was responsible." She raged before looking away. "Even me."
Meeting my eyes once more, she admitted, "I knew what he was planning…I hoped he would walk away from it. Even believed he had chosen to, but…instead of telling anyone, I…did nothing."

I breathed out through my nose. "You are not alone in that sin, Hawke."

"I know, Cullen." Her blue eyes were full of emotion as she met my gaze. "I…I'm sorry, much of that was undeserved. I am just…so fed up with it all. Every decision I have made in my life over the last decade has only wrought more and more destruction."

"No," I shook my head. "It wasn't. You are right on all counts. It is easy to blame it all on Anders, but even if he is not solely to blame, I will not relent in my anger towards him for what he did. But without his actions…" I sighed heavily, hating to admit the next words, "I would not be here."

"If I told you he rejoined the Hero of Ferelden as a Grey Warden, what would you say?" Hawke questioned. "That I demanded it of him in exchange for his life?"

"I would say that I hope he proves himself at her side and that wherever they are, he is protecting her," I stated.

Hawke gave a smirk, eyes alight with mischief. "That is a hypothetical situation, of course. I have no idea where Anders is."

My lips twitched. "Of course."

"Did…did you find your elf in the midst of this?" Her question was hesitant.

Uncertainty pulled at me if I should tell Hawke. I figured I shouldn't; even if we could trust her, the fewer who knew, the better. "I learned only that she perished in the fighting."

Hawke's eyes narrowed and I feared she saw through me, but instead of saying as much she simply said, "I am sorry, Cullen."

"As am I," I murmured.

"I've taken up enough of your time," she began to turn. "I apologize for growing angry with you. If there's anything you can do about Sebastian or the templars, please bring it up with the Inquisitor."

"I will, Hawke."

…

"What do you mean she hasn't returned?" I questioned Solana.

"I mean she left to speak with you and has not returned," she repeated, her words slower as if speaking to a petulant child, which only grated further on my nerves.

"Do you have any idea where she would be then?" I ground out.

"This is a rather large castle, Cullen," Solana sighed. "There is any number of places she could be."

"It's not that large," I bit.

She smirked, clearly pleased that she was irritating me. "Besides, I thought you of all people would know where she would go."

I scowled at her. "Fine, I will find her myself."

"Good luck, Commander," Solana sing-songed.

I stalked out the door of the infirmary and headed towards the tower I had claimed. Last I saw of her, she had been headed there before I'd been called away. Maybe she had decided to return and wait within? Working my way up the stairs, my body tired and aching, a headache pounding behind my eyes, I opened the door to the tower.
Glancing around, I found it empty. The library? I crossed through the office and headed across the newly finished walkway. Cutting through the rotunda, I climbed up the steps to the library.

"Commander?" Dorian's voice called from behind me. I turned to find the mage occupying a rather cushy looking chair, surrounded by books, a mug of something hot in his hand.

"Ser Dorian," I inclined my head.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" He raised a groomed brow in question.

"N—no," I shook my head. "I…was looking for someone."

"Ah, I see," Dorian snapped his book closed and set it atop the pile closest to him. Standing, he came towards me. "How fares our lovely Lieutenant-Commander?"

"I…" I was not going to discuss personal matters with this man whom I hardly knew. "She wanted to speak with me, but I had to attend a meeting with the Inquisitor."

"I'm afraid she has not entered the library since I arrived," Dorian's mustache pulled as he frowned. "If she had, I would have spoken with her. There is something she and I need to discuss."

I quirked a brow at him. "Oh?"

"During our attempt to discover any lead in finding a cure for Felix, I stumbled across a tome that spoke heavily on blood magic," Dorian explained.
"It held a bit of information that could pertain to her situation. I spoke with the Inquisitor about it, but she thought I or Solas better suited to explaining it to her. Of course, I had to disagree. That vagabond would be far too clinical, he'd frighten the poor girl."

"I will tell her you wish to speak with her," I offered.

"Good man!" Dorian smiled broadly. "By the by, I understand you're a lover of chess?"

I shifted on my feet. "I am fond of it, yes. Why do you ask?"

"It just so happens that I am as well," Dorian whispered conspiratorially. "I would thoroughly enjoy the opportunity to give you a proper thrashing in the game."

I snorted. "You're welcome to try."

Dorian laughed. "So confident in your skill. It will make my victory that much sweeter."

We start with building a rapport. "At the first opportunity, mage," I challenged.

"I look forward to it, templar," Dorian gave a slight bow. "Good luck with Talitha. Might I suggest the battlements? I have heard her mention that she rather enjoys the view of the mountains from atop them."

"Thank you, Ser Dorian."

"Ser Cullen," Dorian waved me off as he returned to his books.

I headed back down the stairs and passed through the door that opened to the walkway connecting my tower to the inner keep. Day was breaking overhead and I knew soon enough she'd be with Solas to train. Having to keep myself from running across as there were soldiers patrolling, I made it to my office and out the side door.
My heart pounded with each moment I didn't find her, turning Bran's coin over in my pocket as a nervous habit. Maker, please. Distracted, I nearly crashed into her again as I exited the tower opening to the battlements over the upper bailey.
"Sweet Maker," I swore as I caught her. "We have to stop meeting like this."

She straightened and took a step away from me. Ghilani was watching her. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I stated, reaching towards her, but she stepped back again, placing her hands behind her back. She was in a simple gown, not the shift she'd been wearing. Made of a soft, but fine material that flowed around her. She had a cloak hanging over her shoulders. Despite the sadness she exuded, she looked beautiful. Fear gripped my spine. The wolf let out a whimper. "Darling, what's wrong?"

"Cullen," she breathed, not meeting my eyes. "I…I think we need to end this. Th-there's no future in it."

I felt my heart cleave in two as my throat closed. Maker, why? What happened? "Why? Did I…did I do something wrong?"

She snapped her head up. "No, of course not."

"Then why?" I begged.

Tears swam in her eyes and I wanted nothing more than to hold her. "Cullen…I-I…I can't…I," she was trembling.

Something was tearing at her and my heart was breaking for her. "Tell me, love. Tell me so I can make it right."

A sob tore out of her. "You can't make it right."

"Let me try," I pleaded.

"Cullen," she whimpered. "I can't give you children."
I was taken aback, that being the last thing I thought she'd be fretting over. She drew in a shaky breath, so I stayed silent.
"I…I see how you are with them. With Fioren, with the fledglings. How elated you were about the news of your becoming an uncle. I…I cannot ask you to stay with me when I cannot give you something that you so obviously long for...it is selfish." Her beautiful eyes met mine. She wanted to end this for me, not herself. Maker, I do not deserve her.

I stood silent for a moment as the patrol passed. I took a step towards her, lowering my voice. Ghilani trotted off then. "Meira, I already knew…or suspected that could be the case. Not only because of…the past, but because you are elven. I am human. Children are…rare between such a pairing."

She looked at me in surprise. "Then why are you still going through with…with your plan to marry me?"

I took another step towards her. "I am not sure I would make a good father. Not with…all the mistakes I've made." I stepped towards her again.

"You would make an excellent father, Cullen," she said with such vehemence I wanted to believe her. Then she dropped her head and shook it.
"And it is for that reason you will come to resent me in time. You will want children. For Andraste's sake, I want children. I want to have your children." She clutched the front of her dress over her chest as if trying to keep her breaking heart together.
"I want it so much, Cullen, it hurts."

I took a final step, entering her space.
"Meira, I love you." Placing a hand firmly on her hip, I tilted her chin up with the other.
"And loving you means shouldering your every burden, your every pain, your every fear," I began to quote what she had said to me back to her. Tears filled her eyes along with a loving tenderness as her lips trembled.
"Loving you means holding your hand through every failure, every success. Loving you means praying for your every dream, your every hope. Loving you means challenging you, supporting you, caring for you, comforting you and seeking only that which is best for you."
I had never heard truer words and the more I had pondered them, the more they had come to mean to me. They had reflected what I thought loving someone meant, but I could never have put it so eloquently into words.

"Cullen," she sobbed. There was so much love in her voice as she spoke my name. I leaned forward, intent on kissing her with everything I'd held back all these weeks. I could feel her want, but she stayed still. I could feel her breath on my lips—

"—Commander!" A voice called and we jerked our heads apart. Rage, hot and unchecked burned in my blood, red in my vision. Can we not have one second of bloody peace? Meira closed her eyes tight, agitation plain on her face before she lowered it. I tightened my grip on her hip instead of turning to strangle whomever had interrupted us.
"You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report."

If this was one of Leliana's men, they had the worst observational skills in history. They would also have a very short life span as I seriously considered throwing them over the crenellations. I turned, finding his nose stuck in the report he was speaking of. It was James.
I boiled inside even more. The man had interrupted Meira and I so many times it was now becoming a running joke between us. I tolerated the man for his actions during Haven, having rescued several civilians and acting with more bravery than I would have thought possible from him. But at this moment, the inside joke was not humorous and I was in no mood for him. With my rage unbridled, I addressed him.
"What?"

He startled and finally looked up. "S-Sister Leliana's report. You wanted it delivered 'without delay'." I swore I could hear the Spymaster laughing from her dovecote as the man repeated my words that had cursed me.

As he extended the board the report was on towards me, I stepped into his space, ignoring the report, and stared him down with all the rage I could muster. A promise of death, punishment and damnation in my face. He had the gall to stand there looking confused in response. His blue eyes flicked between my face and where I could hear Meira shifting uncomfortably. I stepped even closer to him as he still had not moved.
Another glance into my eyes and he paled before he began slowly backing away. "Or…to your office…right…" He kept backing away, not daring to take his eyes off of me in case I decided to run him through with my sword right then and there. It was tempting. As he finally turned tail and ran, I nodded. Serves you right, you fool.

I heard Meira let out a sigh of defeat. "If you need to—"

No. No more. The Inquisition will not come first. Not between us. Her words still on her tongue, I turned so swiftly, grabbing her face with as much gentleness as I could allow, before I slanted my mouth over hers. I swallowed her gasp, the vibration of her surprise tingling down my spine and heating my blood. She seemed stunned, her lips rigid, but I did not relent. It was only a moment before she melted against my chest, her mouth softening as she clung to me. I felt her shaking, tasted her tears, but still I did not relent.
Finally, she met my kiss, letting that want show just enough that I parted her trembling lips with my own as I pulled her mouth harder to mine. I lost myself wholly in her, wanting her to understand that there was nothing more in this world that I cared about than her. I am yours, Meira. All of me. I kept my mouth slanted over hers until the world began to spin, until it narrowed to only her starving lips moving with mine; until she stilled, content.

Only then did I break away. I kept her face in my hands, our lips still brushing, as I caressed her nose with my own. "Meira. I am yours. No matter what."

"I love you, Cullen," she breathed, her eyes still closed. "With all that I am."

We were silent, simply breathing each other in. Then we heard a great ruckus in the bailey below. Whoops and hollers sounded along with ribald shouts about us. I growled before I began to turn to roar at them, but Meira pulled me back for another kiss, her fingers fisting in my hair as she threw caution to the wind. Thrown for only a second by her sudden passion before I answered her. The shouts only increased, making me blush to the tips of my ears, but I felt Meira laugh against my lips before pulling away.

"Have breakfast with me," I murmured as I pressed my forehead to hers.

She blinked, surprised. "What?"

"I mean…W-Would you like to have breakfast with me?" I asked.

A broad smile spread across her face and it was so beautiful, it stole my breath away. "I would love to."

I pulled her in for a gentle kiss. "I am sorry that I left you alone in your worry. Forgive me for not making you more of a priority these last few weeks."

She kept her eyes closed, as if perfectly content. "It's alright."

"No, it isn't." I challenged. "But I will do my utmost to correct it."

"Breakfast seems a good place to start," she teased.

…

I had cleared a space on my desk so that we could sit and enjoy breakfast together. It was a meager meal, but still...we were together and Meira looked far happier than I had seen her in weeks. She kept blushing as our eyes met and it took all I had not to simply attack her with kisses.
I want to have your children. I want it so much it hurts. My heart ached for her, for what it must have meant—what it must have taken—for her to admit that to me. It had meant so much to her that she felt there had been no other solution than to end our relationship. She believed it was selfish to ask me to commit to her knowing that we would never have children. Did she not realize it was her that I wanted? In whatever form that took, whatever future was shaped? So long as her hand was in mine, that was all that mattered to me. I made a mental note to bring up adoption with her in future: Ferelden had no shortage of orphans that could use a loving home.

I glanced to her once more, finding it difficult to read over the report in my hand as she sat perched atop my desk. An image of the desire demon flashed in my mind, of it being Meira as I pinned her to it. I pushed the image away. I found her studying me again and she looked away, blushing. "What is it, my darling?"

Her lips twitched. "I just...sometimes I wonder if this is really happening," she admitted. "You are...everything I imagined you would be, but...so much more too."

My heart flipped. "What do you mean?"

She looked away from me again, glancing to where Ghilani lay dozing in the sun. "You...make me very happy, Cullen. That's all I'm trying to say."

A warmth filled my chest. "As you make me, love."

She sighed as she glanced out the window. "I suppose we must face the day. As much as I would prefer to stay cooped up in here with you."

"I swear to you," I vowed, "We will make this a priority. The Inquisition and it's army are my duty, but you will come first."

"You can't do that, Cullen," she shook her head before meeting my eyes. "We must simply prioritize time together when we can and make the most of it."

"Then it will be a standing appointment," I stated. "Breakfast together. I-I want to start each day off with you."

She smiled at that. "It is a start, but you know there will be times you have unexpected meetings or things to see to."

"Then we have dinner," I stood from my chair and came to stand before her. "We are to have at least one meal together daily."

She leaned towards me, not quite meeting my lips. "And what else, my knight?"

"Walks? Chess matches? Riding together?" I proposed, acting oblivious.

She leaned closer. "And what else?"

I smirked as her voice had turned husky. "Training? Reading over reports together?" She chuckled before pulling me in for a kiss. "I would not be opposed to more of this as well," I admitted as we broke apart.

"I thought not, my lion." Her fingers pressed into the skin at the back of my neck, the tips of them skimming my hair.

"Maker, I've missed you," I breathed.

"And I you," she murmured before our lips met.

Nothing my nightmares could conjure compared to actually kissing her, for it could not duplicate how she felt in my arms. Pliant, eager, but with just enough restraint to make my head spin. She made everything quiet in my mind, to where all I had to focus on was her. It brought such relief that I never wanted it to end and awaited when next we could be together. I cursed myself for having neglected her these past few weeks, even if it had not been intentional. Breaking away, kissing her gently and then pulling away once more, she let out a sigh.

"What is the report that James was so desperate to get to you?" She questioned, laughter in her voice at the scowl I made at the man's name.

"It was a copy of Leliana's latest update from the team we sent to Therinfal," I explained.

"What did it say?" Her voice had turned serious.

"I...might have been distracted," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

"You?" She was incredulous.

"I believe you know it happens from time to time," I smirked before whispering in her ear. "You are usually the culprit."

"Why Commander, you seem to be accusing me of something," she seemed offended at the idea.

"Only of your being so very distracting," I hummed as I let my lips skim across her earlobe and a little ways down her neck. She leaned into the touch instead of pulling away.

"Oy love birds, comin' in, yeah? Better not see little Cully," Sera's nasally voice snapped as she waltzed through the door. Ghilani let out a huff as she moved spots. "Not saying he's little, but..." Sera laughed at her own joke.

Meira bit her lip as she looked at my face which was scarlet from both anger and embarrassment. "No need to worry about that, Sera, the Commander is a gentleman."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure he's quite gentle," Sera snored. "About as gentle as a—"

"—Sera," Meira warned.

"Right, right, sorry," Sera put her hands up before she leaned against the ladder up to my loft. "Forget you're not into that."

I cleared my throat. "What do you need?"

"A favor," Sera stated, her large eyes on me. "Just a little thing, really. A little march-around for some of your people. It's nothing for you, right?"

Though I found Sera far easier to understand than Cole, she was just as trying at times. "What favor?"

"It's a Red Jenny thing," she offered as if that explained. "I got a tip that some noble stiffs are arguing over Verchiel. Land squabble. They're getting little people beat up. So I need you to go to your big table and send some people to walk through town."

"Just 'walk through'?" I probed, skeptical.

"Just walk through," she nodded. "Easy, right?"

"Was this a tip from one of your 'friends'?" I crossed my arms over my chest. I still did not understand the network she was part of, but Leliana did and found it valuable. I was surprised she was coming to me over the spymaster.

"Not a Jenny," Sera clarified. "Just normal, angry people getting sick of being in the middle. I don't usually hear about things this far away, but having a friend like the Inky is like getting really big ears. Bigger ears, I guess." Meira chuckled at the joke. "Shut up."

"What?" Meira questioned. "Your ears are adorable and I'm rather fond of mine." Sera made a raspberry with her lips.

"So who is asking for this?" I ground out.

"I'm asking because I heard people complaining," Sera stated.
"See, when nobles fight, it's not them—it's their little people stuck in the middle. It's like a polite war, so no one pays attention. But if you march through, the people up top feel threatened too." She straightened.
"'Sides, I thought you of all people would appreciate something like this, Cully-Wully." She shifted on her feet.
"Stuff like this is always happening. Good sovereigns to be made if you're one of the few who notice."

"How will this benefit the Inquisition?" I questioned.

"Nobles think everyone is out to get them, so when your helmets march through both sides will think the other is out to get them." I had to admit there was sense in that.
"Both get scared. Both make deals. Worse case, the Inquisition gets a little bump from the people because they see it active. Can't promise anything, but... something will happen. Just like always."

"I will bring it before the Inquisitor," I nodded.

"It's fun, right?" A broad smile filled her face.
"Being important without doing a thing? Well, not much of a thing. Not everything has to be torn skies and ancient Coryphshpits. Every little thing makes a difference somewhere." At that, she headed for the door.
"Sorry for interruptin', but maybe doin' it on the desk isn't the best idea? May wanna lock the doors at least."

"Sera!" I growled. I heard her cackle before we watched her leap over the wall. "Maker's breath. Are we never to have a moment's peace?"

Meira was laughing heartily. I turned to find her dazzling in the sunlight streaming in. "Wh-What did you expect, Cullen? You can't kiss me like that on the battlements—in full view of everyone mind you—and not think we're going to be the punchline of numerous jokes from now on."

I felt heat flooding my face. "Well...I...I may have gotten a little...carried away."

Her eyes danced as she gave me an impish grin. "You should get carried away more often."

I closed the distance between us, her head in my elbow as I slanted my mouth over hers. She chuckled before returning the kiss. "How was that, my darling?"

"Better," she smiled. "But I daresay we won't get anything accomplished at this rate."

I glared at the desk. "No, I suppose not."

"I need to see to my own duties, anyway," she huffed before lowering herself to the floor. "I'll see you in a few hours, though? For training?"

I tilted her chin for a quick peck. "Yes."

"I love you," she murmured.

"And I love you."

I watched as she glided from the tower, the wolf on her heels, a final look back at me as she stood in the sunlight before she closed the door. With a groan, I wrenched Leliana's report off the desk and began to read over it. They'd found signs that someone had been within the Redoubt after we'd vacated it and a camp at the distance Denam had indicated. Only remnants remained, but from burnt fragments of communications that had been received at the camp, it was clear Samson had been there.
From what Leliana's people had been able to piece together from the found scraps, Samson had been intended to take over the templars once they all had succumbed to red lyrium. He was indeed Corypheus's general, leader of the Red Templars. And just as Denam had known red lyrium was poison, Samson had known that the "Lord Seeker" was a demon in disguise. My hand started shaking in rage. Samson had spewed his hatred of Meredith, questioning her leadership, cursing her name when she'd expelled him from the Order. Now?

"Raleigh Samson," the man extended his hand out to me, "but call me Samson." His voice was deep and gravelly, but he had a slight smile in greeting. "Hear you're gonna be bunking with me, lad."

I looked down at his offered hand, mind flashing to clawed hands reaching to grope. Sweat rolled down my spine, but I swallowed thickly before clasping arms with him. "Cullen Rutherford."

"Dog Lord, eh?" Samson astutely observed. "Heard there was some trouble at the Circle there. What got you sent here? Got on the bad side of your Commander?" Samson chuckled, brown eyes curious. I noticed that his pupils were dilated.

I felt that cage at his mention of Kinloch. Smelled the death. "No. I asked for a transfer. Kirkwall needed templars."

"Void right we do," Samson nodded. "You seem a little green—worried Kirkwall might be too much for you."

"I assure you," I clenched my jaw, eyes flashing, "I've faced enough for a lifetime. I will ensure the safety of all here—mage and templar. There will be no maleficarum, no abominations on my watch."

Samson blinked, his joking demeanor falling. "Maybe you'll fit right in here after all." I said nothing. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump. Samson looked at me, concerned. "Come on, lad. Let me show you around."

—

"You've got some skill, Dog Lord," Samson panted as his shield met my sword. "Granted, my days of youth are long behind me."

The man had done better than I'd expected, I tiring. "You're not too bad yourself...for an old man."

Samson grinned wolfishly. "Did the Dog Lord just crack a joke?"

"Hardly."

—

"Lad. Lad. Cullen. Rutherford!" Samson's worried voice cut through the haze of nightmares as he shook my shoulder.

I let out a cry as I woke. Wrenching myself out of my sweat drenched sheets. "I...Forgive me."

"You alright, lad?" Samson probed, brow furrowed.

"I'm fine," I growled.

"Cullen-"

"-I'm fine," I shouted, ripping away from his hand on my shoulder.

Samson drew back from me. "Alright."

—

"You seem...friendly with the mages, Samson." I stated.

Samson barked a laugh. "I wouldn't go so far as 'friendly', but they're not half bad. You stay friendly, you do favors here and there and they're willing to open up to you. You want to know what's happening in this tower? Stay civil."

"There is a difference between civil and cordial," I stated.

"A line you've learned to walk well, Rutherford," Samson observed. "No doubt it's what caught Meredith's eye. Hear you're gonna be promoted soon. Never heard a' so quick or so young a promotion."

"She's proven a willing mentor and I've learned much from her," I responded. "I did not ask for the promotion."

"Ah, but you've no doubt earned it," Samson slapped my back. "But be careful with her, Rutherford. She's crafty and...not all she seems."

"She's not what everyone whispers she is," I argued.

"Look around you," Samson argued. "You think this is the way to treat the people we're called to protect?"

"We're called to protect them and the common folk. Mages...mages cannot be treated like normal people. We must always be vigilant."

"You think they choose this?"

"No, but no matter the mage, they are a danger."

"I can't wholly argue with you there," Samson admitted. "Haven't met a mage that—when backed into a corner—hasn't chosen blood magic."

"Ser Cullen." Meredith's voice snapped. "Ser Raleigh."

—

"Samson?" I questioned as I pushed open the door.

My foot hit something, causing it to skid across the floor with a clink. Empty bottles littered the ground. Lyrium.

"Come to collect me have you, Knight-Captain?" Samson's voice drawled. "She already dragged Maddox away."

"The Knight-Commander did ask for you." I probed, my feet hitting more bottles. "Samson...how much...how much lyrium are you taking?"

I caught him a few times, taking more than his share. Usually after failed Harrowings or having to track down apostates, but this... My eyes fell on him, curled up in the corner of our room, pupils so dilated his eyes were almost black. He started laughing, malice in it.

"Had to have one last hurrah, didn't I? 'Corrupting the moral integrity of a templar'. What a load of rubbish. It was notes to his sweetheart! Letters!" Samson hurled an empty bottle against the wall, shattering it. "Maddox was a good lad. Wouldn't have hurt a fly!"

"Ser Cullen," Meredith appeared at the doorway, her blue eyes fierce. "Is he being resistant?"

"No, Knight-Commander."

"Raleigh Samson, you are hereby expelled from the Order," she barked as other templars entered the room, heading for Samson. Samson's eyes filled with such hatred as he looked at her when they dragged him to his feet.

"On what charges, Knight-Commander?" I questioned.

"Erratic behavior," Meredith snarled. "He's been sneaking around. Taking more than his rationed lyrium. Conspiring with the mages."

—

I watched as Samson was dragged out, shouting curses and profanity at Meredith as she watched with a cold gaze. I questioned if his actions deserved this severity of punishment. Questioned if Maddox had deserved the brand for what the crux of the matter had been.
Maddox had asked Samson to pass letters to his sweetheart. In exchange, Maddox had passed information to Samson from time to time. I listened to Samson's ravings, how he had been a great templar, how he despised Meredith. He vowed to make her pay.

I shook my head at the memories. He'd wanted nothing more than Meredith gone. Believing her prejudice against mages being one of the major problems with the city. He'd wanted to be reinstated, wanted to be a templar again—or so he claimed. Upon leaving, he'd turned to smuggling out mages from the city in exchange for coin.
Every coin he had went to smuggled lyrium. He wanted back into the Order to have a free and steady supply of lyrium...I had doubted that it was for little else. Especially after Thrask's horrific attempt at trying to overthrow Meredith. Thrask had been a good man, had tried to warn me again and again what Meredith truly was, but I had not listened. I should have. If I had, perhaps the man would still be alive. Instead, Thrask had aided mages in trying to depose Meredith where they'd swiftly turned on him and killed him. Samson had been involved. Hawke had reported that the man came to view mages in the same light as Meredith by the end of the ordeal. How then had he come to serve alongside mages—mages who had no qualms about using blood magic?
My mind went back to that night in Haven. The sword—Meredith's sword. The templars in Kirkwall were using red lyrium. Maker! Had Samson convinced them to use it? I thought past the sword to him standing there. Not much could be made out, but he had been glowing red. As if red lyrium covered his whole being.
Was he one of those monsters, but with more thought? Or did he have armor with the red lyrium embedded within it somehow? If so, how had he not gone mad like the others? Like Meredith? And why? Why had he joined them? Just for lyrium or was it more? Was he already mad, but Corypheus was...sustaining him somehow? I could not believe the man I knew would subject others to the curse that was red lyrium...not willingly. I had to find out the truth. I wrote a letter to Ruvena to ask her about what was occurring in the city. Another to Guard Brennan in case Ruvena was unable to answer.
The team had found evidence as well as to red lyrium being smuggled along trade roads. I would need to speak with Ellana about what she wanted our next move to be, but first it seemed the soldiers had been able to bring some of the red lyrium back. Dagna would be my first suggestion to the Inquisitor; perhaps the dwarf would be able to conduct experiments on it, to find some sort of weakness or way to destroy it, as much as I did not want it at Skyhold.
Beyond that, Leliana's agents had uncovered little about this 'Calpernia' beyond that Calpernia was most likely not her real name as it was a name pulled from ancient Tevinter history. It was meant to assure the Venatori that followed her. Calpernia's own agents had been sent to investigate a man by the name of Vicinius in Val Royeaux. Leliana wanted Ellana's thoughts as to her next move as well. Thinking of the meeting that had occurred upon Ellana's return and talking with Hawke afterward, I sent word to Josephine about Prince Sebastian to see if the Ambassador could do anything.
Another report laid beneath Leliana's, also labeled urgent. It seemed Vale and his men were in adequate shape, but the dragon had become a nuisance. Attacking passersby, hunting further and further away from her chosen grounds. A headache threatening to form, I sighed. We would have to do something about the creature and soon.
I decided to ask Bull and the Chargers—with Ellana's leave—if they wanted the task of downing the creature. Going to the qunari and this second in command, I was slightly disturbed at the eagerness with which I was met at the offer. I had to admit I had never witnessed a company ready themselves for travel so fast as they left for the Hinterlands, escorting Helisma and a few other Tranquil with them to observe the creature and the battle.

...

Returning from inspecting the troops and progress on the village below, aching and exhausted, I heard a commotion as I passed through the main gate of Skyhold. Shouting, explosions, the ring of swords meeting shields. Clenching my jaw, I hurried towards the noise, finding an amalgamation of limbs, weapons, metal and magic.
The templars and the mages had descended into fighting. Curses and anger could be heard from within the mass as they fought. Just as I was about to roar at them to stop, magic pulsed between the, a great ice wall splitting as it pushed them apart.

"That is enough!" Meira's voice roared as she strode in between them. Ghilani shadowed her, silver eyes searching for threats. Meira's eyes were fierce, frost magic dancing off her skin as it had when she'd been furious with me all those months ago.

"Lieutenant-Commander," Barris addressed her as he came around from one side, Henry on his heels. "I apologize, I tried to quell the fighting, but..."

"This is not anyone's fault, Ser Barris, except these fools who believe this was the way to solve problems," Meira growled. Moving her hands, she willed the ice wall away.
"Mages. Templars. Separate." Looking confused, they hesitated.
Whirling on them, she shouted, "Separate!" Jumping a little, they did as she commanded. Mages on one side, templars on the other.
"So this is as it should be, right? Mages and templars. Metal and magic. Always together, always separate."

"We don't all have your talents, Lieutenant," a templar shouted.
"So skilled you turned the head of the Commander. Former Knight-Captain of Kirkwall. You must be truly amazing in the sack to have gained his favor. How else did you come to lead us, magicking knife-ear?"

Rage burning in my gut at their words, I stalked towards them, but kept my eyes on Meira. I watched as she stiffened. Then, she summoned her weapons—an ice sword and shield. Pointing the sword into the crowd she stared down the templar that had so insulted her.
"Why don't you show this 'knife-ear' how its done then?"

The templar chuckled menacingly before he squared his shoulders. "Alright. Not going to let some pointy-eared tramp whore her way to the top."

Keeping out of their line of vision, I came to stand next to Barris and Henry. I would not interfere unless needed. Meira simply stared him down. I prayed to the Maker she didn't kill him by accident. In our training together, she had improved greatly, now getting strikes in on me even when she wasn't using her magic. When she did use it...she would be an amazing warrior by the time this was over.

I put a hand out to stop Barris as he made to intervene. "She'll be fine."

"It's not her I'm worried about, Commander," Barris warned.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"She knew you wouldn't use your templar abilities in practice with her, so she asked Rylen, Henry and I to train with her. She wanted to see if she could learn to resist our abilities," Barris explained.

"She…what?"

"You didn't know?" Henry questioned. I shook my head. Henry cracked a smile. "Then you're in for a show. She's knocked us on our rears more than once."

I followed his gaze to the pair. The templar was in the standard defensive position: shield up, slightly bent, sword up. Meira was in the same stance. They circled each other. The templar's sword began brimming with light, indicating that he would wield his abilities. "What are you going to do without your magic?" He taunted.

"Try and take it from me," Meira challenged.

He unleashed a smite and I waited for her to crumple or for her weapons to melt away, but neither happened. Instead, she'd closed her eyes and seemed to be focused on her breathing. Once the smite was done, she remained standing, magic still flowing. Opening her eyes, she gave a wolfish grin.
"That all you got?"

The templar was taken aback. "What in the Maker's name?"

Then Meira moved. She disappeared only to reappear in front of him, blade swinging towards him. The templar had fast reflexes as he brought his shield up in time, but Meira stomped on the ground, causing ice to erupt, knocking the shield aside. She bashed him in the chest with her own, pouring magic behind her swing. He stumbled back a few steps, meeting her blade as she swung again. He tried to hit her with his shield, but she disappeared.
She was behind him and hit a joint in his armor with the pommel of her sword, hitting at the bundle of nerves causing him to drop his blade. He swung around to try and bash her with his shield again, but she phased out of existence, his shield freezing as it passed through where she had been standing. Letting out a frustrated noise, his shield began to blaze white the ice melting away. No doubt he was trying to use mana debilitation, but for it to work, he actually had to hit her. Thus far, she was proving the evasive enemy. He could try a cleanse or spell purge, but if she resisted the smite, I doubted they'd have much effect on her magic.
I could tell she was tiring though and knew she needed to end it. The templar got feeling back in his arm as he picked up his sword, it brimming with light. Rage fueling the templar, he began swinging at her with a vengeance. Unfazed, Meira kept dodging his swings, but tiring, she had to start taking his blows with her weapons. With each strike she took, she tired and it seemed the battle had turned. The templar became overconfident and I could predict what she was going to do. When he'd dropped his guard enough, she used what she had left of her mana to freeze his weapons in place. Before he could dispel her magic, she pulled out a dagger—my dagger—and held it to his throat.

"Do you yield, Ser Templar?" Meira's face was fierce, not giving away the exhaustion I could see in her body.

"I yield," he gritted out.

"I yield, Lieutenant-Commander," Meira stated.

"I yield, Lieutenant-Commander," he spit.

Meira gave a threatening smile.
"I earned my title, templar. Earned it with my blood and nothing else. Do not everinsult me or the Commander again." With a snap of her fingers, she released him from the ice.
"Mages. Templars. From this moment forward, you are going to be working in teams. No more Order. No more Magi. The battalion is one. You will be assigned to mixed military teams."

"What?" Some shouted. "That's not what we signed up for!"

"What did you think you were signing up for?" Meira retorted.
"A chance to dual it out? To have your war here?" Meira chuckled. "No. Those days are over. We are the Inquisition. There are no divides anymore. They are broken." She stared them all down.
"You will do this. There can never be change. There can never be order restored until this division is ended. You will not take the initiative, so I must."

They were silent in response, a few shaking their heads as they began to walk away. I walked towards them then. The templars straightened, the mages glowered.

"What have you to say about this, Commander?" a templar questioned.

"I support the Lieutenant-Commander wholeheartedly," I stated, hands behind my back. "We will create small strike teams comprised of mages and templars. You will learn to work together."

"Commander. Lieutenant-Commander," Asaala's deep voice spoke from behind us. We turned to find her, Laren, Amelia and Solana all standing together before a small crowd that had gathered. "We wish to join."

"What do you mean?" Meira questioned.

"We want to train to become templars," Asaala stated indicating her and Amelia. "To show these imbeciles what it is to be templars."

"As do I," Laren spoke. She rarely spoke. "I have seen those I care about suffer at the hands of templars who abuse their power. I have seen those I care about suffer because of magic. I will protect them from both. I will set an example."

A storm was thundering in my chest. They were going to choose the Order? In order to correct it? Asaala who had no qualms with mages, Laren who's family despised templars and Amelia who'd nearly died at the hands of Red Templars as she tried to help warn us when the attack in Haven had occurred.

"And I want to join the battalion," Solana growled, her eyes glaring at the templar that had challenged Meira. "It is time to break the old chains."

"But you are the resident healer," I ground out.

"No longer," Bethany's voice spoke as she approached. She was standing straight, walking normally. My eyes flicked to what had been her ruined leg. In it's place, a phantom limb now glowed out from beneath something akin to cuisse. "Dagna finished it an hour ago. A bit of armor and a rune. I have no idea how she made it, but it works. Solana has taught me everything she knows."

"Why do you want to join, Sol?" Meira questioned.

"My family wishes to join," Solana explained. "I will not be separated from them again. Besides, it's time we teach these brats how to behave."

"And what do you have to offer the battalion that none of the others do?" I demanded.

Solana's coffee eyes met mine before she smirked. First, it was her eyes that shifted. No longer brown, but the color of molten flames. The flames spread from her eyes to her face, down her neck and consumed her entire body. No longer was she flesh, but flame.
"Tell me, Commander, have you ever seen a mage do this?" She burned and burned, the fire spreading out from her, but not burning anything. In her hands, two flame swords burned into existence, mimicking Meira's weapons.
"I can teach your mages magic they do not yet know...and I can teach your templars how to protect others against it."

"Sol," Meira gasped.

Solana's molten eyes fell to Meira and she smiled fondly. "You know I'm a fighter, Talitha. I'm tired of being a dampened fire."

...

Meira was ecstatic over Solana joining the battalion as she had never expected the mage to willingly work with the templars. When she'd asked Solana about it, Solana said the only way things would ever change was by doing something, by setting the example. If she wanted the templars to be different, she needed to be different. Hatred, prejudice and division would only lead us back to where we'd been before the Conclave.
At that, Meira had stated she wanted Solana as her second in command. At first, I wanted to protest, worried Solana was too volatile a choice, but when Meira expressed what it must have taken for Solana to willingly choose to work besides templars, I conceded. I was hardly one to speak on changes of heart and could relate all too well. A second established, a new tactic decided on, we began reformulating the battalion. No longer would it be teams of mages and teams of templars, it would be teams of both.
We had several templars and mages walk away at the idea of truly working together, but to our surprise, it was a minimal amount. When I asked her about what she thought of Asaala, Amelia and Laren becoming templars, she turned the question back on me. I was honest and said I did not think they should. Meira stated her own worry—and utter shock at Laren—but understood what they were wanting to do. The Order would never change until it had members willing to change it. Worried she'd hurt me with her words, she swiftly apologized and said she understood why I had chosen to leave. I'd chuckled at her worry before kissing her cheek, telling her I understood what she was saying.
She apologized as well for not telling me of her training with Barris, Rylen and Henry, but I told her that she had nothing to be sorry for. The battalion was her's and she had to train herself to lead it as she saw fit. I confessed to her that Cassandra and I had been training secretly to see if I could use my templar abilities without lyrium, but had been unsuccessful thus far. A sad look had flitted over her face at the news and she asked if that was something I truly wanted to do. I admitted to my reservations, but knew I had to try, for the sake of all those who wanted to leave the Order or lyrium behind. She told me she was proud of me and would pray for my success.
At the new path we'd taken, things with the battalion began to flow far smoother. Team building exercises were put into practice where the templars had to defend their mages—without stifling their magic—against opposing teams. It had proven difficult at first, templars used to wielding their abilities without care of who they affected, but to the surprise of us all, it was accomplished easily after a few tries and even seemed to have an odd effect.
Somehow, the templars empowered the mages with certain abilities they used. Meira and Solana were like excited children at the notion of what this could mean and began consulting Dagna about what all lyrium was capable of. Dagna, more than eager to study lyrium, poured herself into experimenting with the templars to see if there was more to their abilities than defending against magic. She'd begged the question if lyrium-granted abilities could also increase Fade-granted abilities as lyrium was the raw essence of magic itself. She posed the question of what if templars could support mages just as well as their own brethren, that all it could take was a change in mindset. The thought was dizzying to me. What did that mean if it were true?
Dagna also began studying red lyrium at both my suggestion to Ellana and to my worry. I was assured that every precaution was being taken. The first discovery that had been made was its weakness to cold, especially magical ice. Meira and Vivienne volunteered themselves to test the theory, their ice somehow causing the lyrium to "sleep". Dagna wanted to know if it was weak to any other kind of magic, finding fire was also efficient, but not as much as ice.
Though Solana seemed to have a particular ability to burn hotter than any mage I'd ever known and was able to damage it more with her fire. The two became thick as thieves as they began theorizing over lyrium and the templars. I worried even more that Skyhold would suddenly blow up one day with those two at work in the undercroft. In their experimenting, however, they discovered—much to Barris's, Henry's and Rylen's exhaustion—that red lyrium hindered templar abilities and had a particular weakening effect upon them.
Trying to suppress my worry at the thought, I headed to the stables to speak with Dennet about the progress of the new mounts he had purchased for us when I heard strange noises from the barn. Walking inside, I found Blackwall facing a workbench. He must have heard me as he turned.

His face looked alarmed as his eyes landed on me. I noticed what he was working on, the strange noises making sense. Like my father, the man was a carpenter—a skilled one at that as I noticed he was carving a wooden griffon. "This? This is just...it's something to keep the hands busy."

"What is it?" I questioned, curious.

The man shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Might've gotten word you're to be an uncle. Understand, too, you've got a great respect for the Wardens. Thought the little one could use a toy when they're older." I was stunned. I was the child's uncle and I hadn't even thought of a gift for the little one yet. Blackwall chuckled. "Don't look so miserable, Cullen. Your lady knew I had a hobby for carving—guessing Her Worship told her—she asked if I would do this for you."

My chest pooled with warmth at the thought. "Th-that was...thank you, Ser Blackwall."

"No need to thank me, Commander," Blackwall shook his head. "I'm only too happy to do it. Helps keep my mind off...whatever the Wardens are up to." He let out a sigh.
"I'm glad Her Worship found me when she did. As exciting as wandering the woodlands was, this is better." He smirked.
"Well not this in particular," he gestured to the carving, "but you know what I mean. It's good to be part of something so important, something that could change things."

"It is," I agreed.

"Isn't odd that we were both part of something "important" only to wind up here?" Blackwall chuckled.
"You a templar, I a warden. Our orders were meant to be the stalwarts against evil and now..." He scratched his beard.
"This, the Inquisition, is what matters now. And I'm grateful to be a part of it."

"As am I," I nodded.

Blackwall set his tools down and approached me. "'You are who you choose to follow'," he stated, his eyes boring into mine. "Someone told me that once. Took me years to understand what he meant."

"There's wisdom in that," I stated, unsure what he was trying to say as he turned away from me again and resumed working.

"It was a chevalier who said those words to me. A powerful man, but never without honor. A true knight," Blackwall explained.
"Much like yourself, if you'll allow me." I said nothing. "We met as competitors in the Grand Tourney. He left me with that advice before we parted. Put aside his own ambitions to help me win the melee. I don't think I ever thanked him."

"That was a monumental sacrifice," I observed. The Grand Tourney was a spectacle in the Free Marches. Any man—or woman—that proved themselves in the melee could set themselves up for life. Few were without knowledge of the Grand Tourney and its melee.
It was part of why I had suggested a melee for one of the trials I would face for Feldor. It would not only train the soldiers, but provide a morale boost through competition. The prize of the tournament we were planning: the winner got the boon of their choosing.
"How did he help you?"

"There were a hundred men on the field. Each one fighting for himself," the man got a wistful look on his face as he spoke.
"The knight and I had forged an alliance. It was just the two of us, and we took all comers." He smirked.
"The goal? Down as many opponents as possible. He always let me deliver the final blow."

"Surely he had more motivation than simple goodwill?" I probed.

"He sought a pupil. A squire. Someone to teach and to mold," Blackwall admitted.
"He saw my potential. When it was over, he offered to mentor me, to teach me to become a chevalier like him." Blackwall turned to face me, setting down his tools again.
"And I, young and stupid, turned him down flat. I'd just won the melee at the Grand Tourney. I didn't need him." He came to stand before me.
"I should've gone with him. Perhaps things could've been different."

"You're here now. A Grey Warden. It worked out," I offered.

Blackwall smirked, his eyes alight with mischief and I felt I was missing something.
"I suppose it did, didn't it? For both of us, Commander. Whatever our pasts, we're both older, hopefully wiser, and I think we've chosen the right person to walk with." Heat prickled on the back of my neck and I rubbed at it as Blackwall put a hand on my shoulder.
"You've been through a lot, lad, but it's shaped you for the better. Don't dwell on the past. All you can do is own up to it and focus on your future." Unable to say anything, I simply nodded, a deep respect for the man cropping up.
Blackwall looked at me seriously then. "You can't tell your lady I told you about the gift. It was meant to be a surprise."

I chuckled. "You have my word."

"Good lad," Blackwall nodded.

I spoke with Dennet upon leaving the barn, the man assuring the mounts—both for the Inquisition and the the inner circle—would arrive at the end of the following week. Good news continued the rest of the week, despite the cloud hanging over everything at the news of the Grey Wardens. The living quarters were finished, furniture on its way. The infirmary was also complete, Bethany grateful to move out of the cramped gatehouse and I grateful to have another space to house soldiers. The tavern would be complete before Ellana and the others left again, so we would be able to hold a ceremony for its opening to dedicate it to her. The village below was also nearing completion.
The trainers for Ellana and the others arrived at the end of the week. Ellana chose to train with the Knight Enchanter without hesitation, Meira joining her. The first step was procuring the components needed to craft the hilt that would hold a spectral blade. When Meira had explained it to me, I could think of no battle magic that would suit her better and was eager to see her wield it.
Surprised at my own eagerness, I smiled. Never before had I been eager to see magic used—not since before Uldred. Though I would never admit it, I was even eager to see Solana in action. Coating herself in flames...it was both terrifying and mesmerizing. It was like a rage demon all fire and claws, but without the hatred behind it.
In Meira's training with the Knight Enchanter, Helaine—the mage teaching her—had encouraged she have Ghilani join. Wether it was the wolf's nature or something more akin to magic, I did not know, but Ghilani soon became Meira's second self. In training with the battalion, Ghilani protected where Meira would leave herself open, downing enemies or alerting Meira to incoming blows with barks. It was like watching a mabari and its owner working together, but the wolf had chosen to protect Meira instead of being trained to do so.
I knew that mabari imprinted on their owners—choosing who they would belong to—but it still took training to have a mabari that guarded the way the wolf did. I suppose its wildness was a factor, used to fighting and defending a pack or pups. Meira had become Ghilani's pup and pack and the wolf acted accordingly, always at Meira's side, like a shadow. Watching and protecting, never far from her. I had a fondness for the beast as it could be there physically to protect her when I could not.
Yet, in the days following our kiss on the battlements, I had made every effort to care for Meira, even when I could not be with her. Seeming to share one mind, she had done the same. As it was she that requested that each morning when we could not be together, I was delivered oat mash.
I swore that Varric had to have both known the recipe of the Hanged Man's 'Pig Oat Mash' and given it to Skyhold's cook, as it tasted exactly the same from the few times I had eaten it. It was always accompanied by a cup of Antivan coffee: black. She also seemed to be behind the runners that brought meals to me when I was unable to take one in the main hall of the keep or with her, much to my embarrassment and gratefulness.
As time for the others to leave approached, Meira, Ellana and Josephine had taken over my tower while I'd been in the valley below. I'd returned to find the tower cleaned, organized, and decorated. Nothing overly fancy, but banners of the Inquisition's insignia had been hung from the walls, a cushy rug in front of the desk, a large couch in front of a fireplace they must have had built—connecting to the chimney from the guardhouse below. The broken bookcases had been replaced, an armor stand brought in along with weapon racks and a small table with two chairs. I'd noticed, too, that she'd had potted rosemary brought up to the tower, sitting on either side of the northernmost door, the calming scent filling the room.
I'd climbed the ladder up to the loft to find the roof had been patched, but a large window had been framed out to keep it open to the sky. Magic wards had been set to keep the weather from entering through the opening and falling upon my bed. The vining ivy had been cleared, the floor patched and rugs placed. A small bookcase had been brought up, a little table to replace the barrel that had acted as one, an additional chest, a copper tub and a washstand with a pitcher and basin on top.
Blushing, I'd noticed that the sheets had been changed, additional ones placed in the second chest. There was a note atop the bedside table from Meira assuring me that no one had been up in the loft except her. Realizing that she must have been the one to change the sheets of my bed, I knew she'd probably noticed the dampness and sour stench of sweat from my ever worsening nightmares. As if in answer, I got a whiff of embrium, oakmoss and elderflower coming from the sheets in an attempt to help with the nightmares. I was touched at the lengths she had gone to to care for me.
I, in turn, made an effort to send her notes of encouragement whenever I could. Meira sent notes in reply that made me blush like a boy in their sweetness. Embarrassed at first, but slowly coming to trust that Sela took her job seriously, realizing that she was my mouthpiece when I could not act in person, she delivered them without condescension or breaking of privacy.
I knew, too, that Meira needed a space of her own to work out of and was determined to surprise her with one. Meira and Barris had expressed interest in the idea, feeling that the factions needed places to convene with each other, but I kept it secret that they would also house spaces for the both of them to work out of; both in desperate need as their duties as representatives were only growing. Asking Ellana for permission to begin construction on towers for the mages and templars to occupy, I had the sappers that had been working on the living quarters get the towers underway.
I was studying the plans for the towers—and Meira's office—double checking that everything was as I wanted when Meira came through the door, breakfast in hand. She gave me a warm smile as my eyes met hers. She set the tray upon the table as I covertly covered the plans and came over to her. Turning her to me, I wrapped her in my arms as I kissed her soundly.

"Thank you," I murmured against her lips.

"For?"

"For everything you've done for me as of late," I stated.

"Of course, my love," she smiled.

"What do we have for breakfast this morning?" I inquired, hunger pulling at my gut. Our options kept expanding as more and more gold poured in; soon we'd hardly know what to do with it all.

"Hotcakes, poached eggs, and sausage," she listed, turning to lift the lid off the tray. "And because the cook fancies you, some sweet rolls."

I chuckled. "Trying to fatten me up?"

She snorted. "Not until you're retired, my knight."

I barked a laugh before weaving my arms around her waist. I kissed the exposed skin of the curve of her shoulder as I noticed she was wearing another dress, looking lovely. "Good morning, darling. You look lovely."

"Good morning," she breathed. "And thank you."

We sat and ate our meal, chatting about what our days held and everything that was happening. She discussed headaches she was facing with the mages and the battalion, but remained optimistic. She discribed her training with Solas and the Knight Enchanter. I told her of my own frustrations. She listened and offered advice where she could. I laced my fingers through hers.

The door to the tower swung open and we jumped apart. A couple of older women came inside, eyes trained on me. "Can I help you?"

"We need you to strip, young man," one of them ordered. Behind them were several recruits carrying various sized crates.

"W-What?" I stammered, utterly bewildered.

"Strip to your small clothes. No one can take seeing you in that half-burnt carcass hanging about your shoulders any longer," the other griped.

I looked to Meira, who was stifling a laugh. What in the Maker's name is going on? More crates kept coming, along with a large chest of drawers that Bull was lifting on his own. He and the Chargers had been successful in taking down the dragon, having returned only the day before.

"How's it going, Commander?" He smiled broadly before eyeing the ladder up to my loft.
He turned to Meira, "Not sure I can get this up there. Really doubt those boards will hold this either. Don't want you two falling through the top when you're going at it."

"Bull," Meira warned, but he just winked at her.

I went scarlet at his insinuation while Meira just snorted after looking at my face. The old crones were pecking at me, trying to rip my clothes off of me despite my wriggling out of their grip. Crates kept coming. Everyone else was acting as if this were all perfectly normal.
"Can someone please explain to me what in Andraste's name is going on?"

"A present for you," Meira explained.
"Ladies, if you would, I will help the Commander—I did design them after all, I can assist him. Bull, take the chest to the living quarters. I will show the Commander to his new chambers." New chambers? The older women huffed in frustration, grumbling about how they'd been so eager to see the Commander after witnessing all the other 'handsome' men's physiques. Bull gave a nod before ducking out the door and heading for the main keep.
"Thank you, everyone, for your help." As they filed out, Meira went over to the crates. "If you would, my love." She gestured to one on the top.

"Can you—" I growled.

"—Cullen," she scolded, "These are gifts. Come over here and open them."

Approaching the crates as if they contained assassins, I hesitantly opened one of the smaller ones. It was narrow, but long. As I pulled the lid away, I had to blink to register what I was seeing. It was a sword, similar in design to the one now strapped at my hip, but of far finer make and materials.
"M...Meira?"

"It was past time for our Commander to have new armor and weapons, not to mention a wardrobe beyond his heavy armor," Meira murmured.
"I know you'll still choose the armor over anything else, but...I may have gotten a little carried away." When I looked at her, a brow arched in question, she produced her sketchbook, pulling a rather large stack of papers out of it before she held it out to me.
"You can have a look. Vivienne's seamstresses and Harrit are very talented. What you see drawn is what lies within the crates."

Hesitantly, I took the papers from her and looked at them. First, I was struck by all the ways she had drawn me, had captured my facial expressions. Soft, angry, fierce, humored, stoic, even laughing. Each expression had a different set of clothing with it and I had never seen clothes that suited me better. Sturdy, understated, the cuts all militaristic, if fine. Pieces of material had been pinned to the pages along with color swatches.
She'd chosen everything from the maroon my ruined armor had been to shades of blue and brown; but gold was almost always the accenting metal, wether it was in the buttons or buckles. I noticed too that there were pieces that were black which had silver as the accent. Fur, leather, linen, wool, cotton and the occasional velvet had been her materials of choice. Everything mimicked the feel of the armor and the clothing underneath that she had seen me in for the last few months, but none of it matched. It was either softer or fiercer depending on what its use was for; and I noticed nothing had been made frivolously despite her claim, every piece had a purpose.
The last page held the armor she'd designed. It was the armor I now wore, but vastly improved upon with the option of scaling back the defensiveness of it for "everyday" use. The metal was a burnished obsidian trimmed in gold. Large pauldrons sat atop the fur trim of the new mantle: a gardbrace would be on my left shoulder, both extended into stop ribs over my shoulder blades.
Rerebraces protected my upper arms, couters at my elbows and vambraces over my forearms where I was shocked that she had kept the templar insignia, but she'd had the Inquistion's emblem sketched over top of it. A nod to where I had come from, but a reminder of where I was now. Instead of just gloves, she'd even protected my hands with gauntlets.
She'd retained the gorget, breastplate and plackart with the same buckle and hinged design, but she'd added a fauld engraved with the Inquisition's insignia. Tassets were attached to the fauld to be buckled around my thighs in the place of cuisses. Poleyns, greaves and sabatons protected my lower legs and feet.
Beneath the armor, but over the breastplate, I would have a surcoat that mimicked the vest I now wore, but fell between my legs, hiding a skirt of chainmail. Beneath all the armor, a short gambeson and chausses of chainmail would be worn with gussets of mail added to aid in giving me my full range of motion while adding another layer of protection. All the extra protection could be removed to scale it back to the armor I wore regularly, but when I would be on the field, I would be as protected as possible without restricting my movement.

"Of course, I had to speak with Harrit as to how it would work in practice, but he knew what I was after. I think he delivered beautifully," she murmured as she came to my side.

I hardly knew what to say. Then I noticed a very messy hand scribbled around the page and strange symbols. My voice was thick when I spoke. "What are these?"

"Dagna," she smiled warmly.
"I wanted to know what she could do and gave her free rein—well, almost free rein. They are wards and runes to bolster your strength, your speed and to protect you from magic."
Unable to speak, I went to open the crates. The armor was beautiful to behold, the sword and shield designed to match it even more so. I was almost afraid to touch them, hardly believing they were real. As I opened the last crate, I realized none of the clothing I had looked at were within. Meira held out her hand to me.
"I'll have the others unpack the armor and weapons to store them properly. For now, I want you to come with me."

I took her hand and followed her out the door. Embarrassed at the public affection as we entered the main keep, I started to release her hand, but her grip turned to a vice. Fighting a smirk at the silent order, I squeezed her fingers. We passed through the crowded main hall where the throne that had been commissioned for Ellana finally sat.
It was a huge thing, but elegant; setting a tone of power and justice, but also mercy. She led me to the door to the left behind the dais. Opening it, I found the other advisors and the inner circle standing within.

"Finally," Josephine sighed. "Now that everyone is here, follow me."

Josephine led us up a few flights of stairs, stating the lower floors were for visitors and the workers that were required to live within the castle walls. The third and second to the uppermost floor was for the advisors and inner circle while the top floor was for the Inquisitor. Our group dwindled as each was shown to their respective rooms until it was only us advisors, Ellana and Meira left. Leliana entered her room, decorated after Orlesian fashion from the glimpse I had caught.
Josephine and Ellana led us to what was supposed to be Meira's room, but the two had conspiratorial grins on their faces as they instead led her to another door. It opened to a flight of stone stairs leading up to a spacious room with two great balconies. It was a beautiful room and suited Meira exactly.
Light woods, soft fabrics, all in light colors. There was a small desk in the corner, bookcases sat behind it. A large fireplace sat between the openings out to the western balcony that was decorated with stained glass. Tapestries and paintings hung from the wall that depicted landscapes from all over Thedas. I noticed that they had taken some of her drawings and framed them as well. Soft rugs lined the floor.
Flushing, I looked at the bed that was...massive. A fourposter with sheer curtains hung between, pillows and bedding enough to look as if she'd be sleeping on a cloud. Ghilani was within, sleeping on a bed made for her in front of the desk. There was a chest of drawers on one wall, a large couch along the stair rail, a garderobe and a bathing room as well. I noticed a stone loft above the bed where I spotted another desk with supplies to draw and paint.

"Ellana," Meira breathed, her voice thick. "This was meant to be your room."

Ellana smiled wolfishly at her. "I will hardly be here to use it, my sister. I wanted you to have this gift for all that you've done for me—for all of us."

I watched as tears streamed down Meira's cheeks before she threw her arms around Josephine and Ellana. "I love it."

"If you are concerned about the servants getting suspicious," Josephine began to explain. "A team of Leliana's agents are the only people allowed up here to care for our rooms."

Meira nodded. Her jade eyes flicked to me. "I was not expecting this and I want nothing more than to explore every inch of it, but I want to show Cullen his room."

"I figured you'd be sharing this one before too long," Ellana winked at Meira who blushed almost as red as I did. "I'm just teasing. Of course, we will leave you."

Josephine and Ellana descended the stairs, the door closing with a soft click. "I am happy for you, Meira," I murmured.

Meira wiped the tears from her face. "I have never had any space that was mine. This is...this is more than I could have ever hoped for."

I pulled her in by her waist and kissed her cheek. "You deserve it," I murmured into her ear.

She gave me a light kiss before taking my hand and leading me down the stairs, a final glance at her room. Opening back to the hall where the advisor's rooms were, she led me to the door to the immediate right. Ellana was at the immediate left. Upon opening the door, I was overwhelmed by the Fereldan-ness of it.
There was fur everywhere, sturdy, dark woods, bulky furniture. Ferelden's heraldry hung from the walls. Bookcases, a small desk, a cushy armchair, the chest of drawers, and another massive bed comprised the furniture of the room. Fear pooled in my belly until I noticed that I, too, had a small balcony that was open, alleviating the worry that I would feel trapped within. A copper tub sat behind a screen and before it was another stack of crates.

"I...hope you like everything," Meira murmured. "I designed and picked it all. I worried Josephine or Vivienne would...get it wrong." I turned to look at her, a blush on her cheeks as she kept her eyes averted, her hands clasped in front of her. "I understand if you don't...we can change—"

I crashed my lips against hers, curving my body around her. I put my forehead to hers, "You will change nothing. It is perfect."

She smiled then, clearly happy. "I'm glad." She met my eyes. "Do you want to open your other gifts?"

Trying to hide my growing excitement, I simply said, "Yes."

She chuckled before following me to the pile of boxes as I pulled her by the hand. Everything was as she had drawn it and even more exquisite to behold. There wasn't a single piece I didn't admire. Pulling out a few of the pieces I was most eager to wear before making for the screen to change, her gentle hand stopped me.

"First, my love, a bath." My heart stopping, she reached up to pull the mantle off my shoulders. A blush on her cheeks, but determination in her eyes, she proceeded to remove all of my armor down to my tunic and pants. "Now, bathe while I take these to Harrit. I'll be back shortly."

I watched as she slipped from the room, using magic to carry my ruined armor, before quickly undressing. I found the tub full of hot water, soap and a towel on the lip. Slipping in, I bathed as quickly as possible. Even washing my hair as I was unsure when the last time had been. As I got out, wrapping the larger towel that had sat atop a stool around my hips, she knocked on the door. "I...am still undressed."

"Actually," she spoke through the door. "Would you...would you mind just putting on some breeches?"

My heart started pounding, my throat tightening. The scars itched. Was I ready for her to see them? Moreover, was I ready to reveal that she did not know all that had occurred within that magical cage? She'd seen what I considered the worst of it because of how they had used her, but…far worse things had happened.
My room disappearing, the cage taking its place, I felt as they tortured me. Blood magic lacerating my mind as I forgot what was real, what was true. Felt as the demon straddled my back, my armor gone. Groping and whispering things that I no longer knew if they were my thoughts or hers.
Twisting everything I had ever thought about Meira into something revolting instead of the innocent love I had held. I roared for her to leave me as her hands traveled, she hissed before hooking her claws into my flesh. One hand starting at my left shoulder, the other at my right hip. I screamed in agony as she tore deep furrows all the way up and down my back, cackling before she disappeared.
My room swam back into view, my body shaking, sweat running down my back. I longed for lyrium to drown out the memories, to make me feel strong. Maker. Andraste. Please, give me strength. Remembering that Meira was on the other side of the door, I went back to the tub and cleaned myself up. Letting out a shaky breath, I ran an even shakier hand through my damp hair.
It was getting too long as was the beard now covering my face. No one had said anything, but I had never been one to be unkempt. I shaved upon moving into my office, but it had been a painstaking endeavor leaving me with a heavy layer of stubble and several nicks. I had not had time since our kiss on the battlements to shave again. Shaking my head to dispel the lingering feel of the demon—and considering another bath—I determined I would let Meira see them. I had already seen all of her scars, it was time she saw mine.

"Cullen?" She questioned.

Clearing my throat, I spoke, "Why only breeches?"

I could almost hear her shift uncomfortably. "I...wanted to...help you shave and...cut your hair. I know the length of both are driving you mad."

I fought a smile. She was right, of course. "Alright."

"There are some new ones in the chest of drawers, at the top."

"Right," I stated as I strode over to the chest. Pulling new smallclothes and a pair of breeches on, I almost felt like a new human and found I was desperate for a haircut and shave. I went to the door, opening it to find her blushing. "Where would you have me?"

"Grab the stool by your tub and come out to the balcony," she instructed. Heart pounding, nerves in my gut I turned my bare back to her. Hearing her gasp, I stood still.
"Cul…Cullen. Your…your back." I heard the soft pad of her slippered feet on the floor, felt her breath on my spine.
I could have sworn she was going to reach out and touch them, but instead she came around to face me. Her eyes darted between mine, waiting for me to speak.

I looked out toward the balcony, "I said that you saw the worst of what happened at Kinloch, but I did not say you saw it all."

"Cullen," she breathed. "Oh, Cullen. My lion."

I turned back to her, a bitter smile twisting my lips. "I'm not sure I'm brave enough to be your lion."

Anger flashing in her eyes at my words, she put her hands to either side of my face. "Yes, Cullen, you are."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she silenced me with a kiss. Breaking away, she took my hand. "Now come on, let's tame your mane."

I chuckled, but followed her willingly.

—

I ran a hand along my now smooth face while looking at the haircut she had given me. Checking both in the mirror that hung above the chest of drawers. I looked ill to my own eyes, I could only guess what others saw when they looked at me.

"I prefer you with some stubble, but I figured a clean shave would be appreciated," she said as she watched me. "I didn't go too short on your hair did I?"

"No, not at all," I assured.

"Good. Now, come sit," she ordered.

Turning to her with a brow arched, I sat upon the stool again. "How did you learn to do that?"

She had a towel in her hands which she used to gently squeeze out the remaining water in my hair. I heard a jar open, smelled the heady sent of elfroot and elderflower before her hands were in my hair. I bit back the groan that nearly slipped out as she massaged whatever it was into my scalp, my headache easing and the tension in my shoulders lessening.

"Acting as a healer," she explained. "There have been times I've had to care for men unable to shave. Cutting hair isn't all that difficult, but I know you're…particular."

I chuckled, but inhaled sharply as she pulled from my forehead down to the base of my neck, her fingers gently untangling my curls and massaging as she went. Wanting to pout at the removal of her hands, she grabbed a comb made of bone and ran it through, straightening the ringlets. I heard another jar open, smelling oakmoss, my headache disappearing entirely as she pulled the contents through my hair. Lastly, another jar as I smelled the familiar wax as she pulled it through.

"Meira," I breathed as she walked around to face me.

"Shh, my knight," she murmured as she fussed with my hair. "I noticed you've been having more headaches. You pinch the bridge of your nose more, shutting your eyes tight. Solana recommended adding medicinal herbs to apply directly to your scalp to help. Is it any better?"

I pulled her to me and kissed her gently. "Yes." Blushing as she was close to my bare skin, I released her. "Thank you."

She glanced around the room. "I know you may not be able to use it often as your tower is more convenient, but I thought you would enjoy having a space you could escape to every now and then."

"I do, very much," I nodded.

"Let's get you dressed," she gestured to where the clothes were laid on the bed. "You've been gone too long I fear."

Standing, I came beside her, kissing her temple before scooping the garments off the bed and going behind the screen. "I want to have dinner with you tonight." I pulled on the dark leather chausses, shoving Bran's coin in my pocket and pulled on my new boots.

"I would like that," she murmured.

"In here, out on the balcony," I stated as I pulled the white cotton shirt over my head, doing up the buttons.

"O-Oh. That would be lovely," she breathed.

"I will take care of the arrangements," I informed her as I came around the screen, pulling on the brown leather, fur-lined jacket leaving the buttons undone.

Her eyes went a little wide as she took me in and I had to resist the urge to preen before her.
"You look handsome," she mumbled, blushing.

Tugging the dark doeskin gloves on, I went over to her and tipped her chin before giving her a light kiss. "Thank you. For everything, my beloved." I kissed her again, her eyes still closed when I pulled away. "I will see you this evening."

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