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*

56. Complications

I apologize for this chapter being so late. It was giving me difficulties (thus the chapter title—in part) and life has been a little hectic. I probably won't post until late again next week and then, hopefully, I'll be back to my regular Monday updates. I wish FF had a way to post announcements or something on works, but alas...

Hopefully the length and the amount of plot advancement make up for the late post! Happy reading!

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MEIRA

Just as I was heading to Cullen's room to join him for dinner, word arrived that an urgent meeting in the War Room had been called, and I was to be included. Word had come from Leliana's agents that had been sent to scout ahead to the Western Approach. Evidence had been found of Red Templar activity in the Emerald Graves on their second sweep. Scout Harding and her team had also sent word of Venatori activity in the Approach, having tracked them to an oasis. Their interest seemed to be in an elven temple that lay within the heart of the oasis, though the Venatori seemed unable to enter it.
None of those were what necessitated the urgency, instead it was a response from Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven. Apparently, the Prince was readying an attack upon Kirkwall in search of Anders, but had agreed to a meeting with the Inquisitor to see if anything could be done to prevent a possible war as Guard-Captain Aveline had assured him in no uncertain terms that he would not take Kirkwall easily while she still drew breath.

"He requested the meeting take place as soon as possible," Josephine stated. "The soonest we could be in Val Royeaux would be the middle of next week, but I would advise pushing back your departure by a week to arrive there in two weeks' time."

"Why Val Royeaux?" Ellana questioned, brow furrowed.

"Prince Sebastian is very devout. He believes the city to be 'neutral territory' due to its tie to the Chantry," Josephine explained. "He asks that the Inquisitor and Captain Aveline be present to discuss the armistice. I would advise that I be present as well and possibly Master Tethras as he is well acquainted with both parties."

"Is this truly more important than what could be occurring within the Wardens?" Ellana probed. "Each moment wasted, Corypheus is growing more powerful and we are no more near finding out what he is doing than we were weeks ago."

"I know you are eager to meet our enemy, Inquisitor," Josephine stated, "but ignoring this will only bring its own complications. Corypheus, as you know, will be glad of the chaos. The more out of control the world is, the more he can accomplish in secrecy. We must quell what fighting we can in order to make finding him an easier task. When there is no chaos elsewhere, we can turn our full attention to finding him."

"In going to Val Royeaux, you would be able to solve another matter on our hands," Leliana added. "If you recall the merchant I mentioned that may have ties to Calpernia?" Ellana nodded.
"I was unable to find any sort of leverage on the man to get him to divulge what he knows. He is wealthy and well-connected. The last solution we are left with is sending you to meet with him. If word spreads that the Inquisitor is to meet with him, it would drive interest to his numerous enterprises. He is currently in Val Royeaux, staying at his second home."

Ellana seemed to think for a moment. "Does it need to be me meeting with them? Or can Talitha take my place?"

"I was going to suggest just that, Inquisitor," Leliana admitted. "However, we need a suitable cover for why the leader of the mage battalion will not be present if you are departing for the Approach and therefore cannot take her place."

"What about the situation in Kirkwall?" Cullen questioned. "Beyond the possible attack by Prince Sebastian? I have received no word from the templars in Kirkwall. However, my connection in the guard, Brennan, sent word. They'd been in regular contact, continuing to restore the city, but shortly before the Breach, all communication ceased." His face had turned grim.
"On a different note, Brennan also informed me that Magistrate Camring was found murdered in his home, the scene straight from Hard in Hightown, if you want to inform Varric." Cullen looked between us all. "We need to investigate Kirkwall, but we know from Dagna's research that our templars cannot be around red lyrium for any length of time without adverse reactions," Cullen clarified.
"We also know that the mages are able to lessen these effects with their magic. Our soldiers are soon to be spread thin in the Dales and I would not risk Skyhold being inadequately defended by sending out more to deal with the Red Templars and Venatori. Not to mention the fact that the troops do not have the advantages that the battalion possesses. I would rather send the battalion on such assignments, but they are not quite ready for the field."

"That's putting it mildly," I snorted.

"We need to investigate Kirkwall discreetly," Leliana mused. "I would recommend Elizabeth Trevelyan. She is a Seeker, therefore she will be unaffected by the red lyrium, but she would be able to interrogate any Red Templars she came across. She has been wanting to check in with her family; she informed me that she had not heard from them recently, which is unusual. This would provide her the opportunity and proximity to do so."

"We send a small team with Talitha under the guise of going to Kirkwall, but instead she travels to Val Royeaux while Trevelyan goes on to Kirkwall alone, keeping a low profile as to not draw attention," Cullen summarized. "What about the Inquisitor? She cannot be in two places at once."

"It takes a week on horseback to reach the Emerald Graves from here, but given the size of the platoon we are sending, some will have to travel on foot," Leliana calculated. "We can extend that travel time to create a limbo for where the Inquisitor is while Meira sees to business in Val Royeaux, but they would need to leave at the same time to reduce suspicion." Leliana looked to Ellana. "This would mean no contact for a time."

"Very well, but in the meantime, I want the battalion to be made ready," Ellana stated. "We need them. There is too much going on to keep spreading our troops and agents around. We wanted the battalion in order to handle these more dangerous situations, we cannot delay their deployment any longer. I want them ready to depart with us. Can you accomplish it Commander? Lieutenant-Commander?"

"I will have Rylen take over my duties while I assist in training the battalion." Cullen's eyes met mine. "We will see it done."

"What am I to do once finished in Val Royeaux?" I questioned.

"Meet us," Ellana stated. "If I recall correctly, distance from Val Royeaux to the Graves is about five days if you sail from Val Royeaux to the port town near Verchiel? Cullen is to send some troops there to march for a Red Jenny cause. They can bring an extra horse with them for you. If all works out, we should arrive in the Graves at the same time.
"You can resume your role as Lieutenant-Commander when you reach the Graves stating that your business in Kirkwall was concluded faster than expected. Elizabeth can send a detailed report so you will be fully briefed on what happened there." She looked between us all. "So our departure is delayed by a week," Ellana stated. "What needs to be done in this extra time we've been given?"

"First, you need to pass judgement upon Knight-Captain Denam, Alexius and…an Avvar chieftain," Josephine stated, looking slightly alarmed at mention of the last.

"'Avvar chieftain'?" Ellana questioned.

Josephine shook her head. "In response to those you defeated in the Fallow Mire. I will speak with you more about it later." Josephine lifted the top piece of paper on the board in her hand. "There is one other matter to address concerning the Winter Palace masquerade."

Cullen groaned audibly. "Please, not more etiquette lessons." Etiquette lessons? He never mentioned anything about them.

"As if you've gone to any of them, Commander," Josephine scolded.

"I do not understand why I am expected to go," Cullen hissed. "I lead our military. I am hardly needed at such an event."

"You are one of the Inquisitor's advisors. A part of her retinue. Much like the court of the Empress," Josephine shot back. "It is an unspoken requirement and we must arrive with a subtle show of power. Being the head of our military, in some ways, you are most important."

"Maker's breath," he pouted.

"If you're quite finished, Commander?" Ellana raised a brow. "You are going. That is the end of it." Cullen gave a nod, despite his fierce scowl. "Now, what did you have to say, Ambassador?"

"We've a date," Josephine stated. "The peace talks are to take place in six months' time."

"'Six months'?" Ellana questioned. "That hardly gives us enough time to deal with everything in the Dales, get to the Approach and back, let alone deal with the Wardens."

Josephine nodded. "And it is just as well. Whatever may come of the Wardens, we will not be allowed to march through Orlais with a larger force than we are already planning without earning an enemy in Empress Celene. Her rule is in question and turmoil, she will not permit the Inquisition to use her lands as it pleases," Josephine explained. "And if we do not wish to slight all the nobility and royalty in Thedas, we will not conduct ourselves as thugs."

"Corypheus needs to be stopped now," Ellana barked, "Not after we've cleaned up the soiled bed of the Court."

"I understand your frustration, Inquisitor," Josephine tried to appease Ellana, "But we must obey certain rules, unless you wish to risk the Inquisition being attacked from all sides. We are tolerated because we have remained amicable and yielding in our growing power. As you stated all those months ago, you wanted us to be a force to be reckoned with, but also one that could be reasoned with. It is because we toe that line that we have been tolerated. The world is recovering from the Breach. Yes, there is still chaos, yes, the Chantry is still hobbled, but in this state of uncertainty, the vies for power will not go unnoticed. Perceived or otherwise."

"If we do get to join in the peace talks," Cullen mused, "if we get to be part of deciding the fate of Orlais, we will have a much easier time mobilizing our troops in the area. Perhaps this is the very reason the Wardens have pulled back to the Approach? They know no one can reach them there without crossing through Orlais? And a force of any magnitude would need Celene's approval. Our hands are tied as we do not have the influence yet to demand such a thing. She'll allow us to clean up her and her cousin's mess, but anything beyond that will be perceived and painted as a move against the throne."

"Have I mentioned how much I hate nobility lately?" Ellana hissed. "Honestly, things would be so much easier if we did not constantly have to worry about trotting on some pompous twit's ego at every step."

"I cannot disagree with you there," Josephine acquiesced. "But if we want to be able to move about Orlais freely, perhaps even receive aid from the Empress, then we must first secure an invitation to the Winter Palace. We do that by bringing peace to the Dales. That is your priority, the Approach and the Wardens must be Serah Hawke's and Ser Stroud's."

"Then on that note, I want to add something," Ellana offered. "I want Talitha to take my place at the masquerade."

Cullen and I's heads snapped to Ellana at that. Leliana and Josephine shared a glance. "We were thinking the same thing."

"Though your etiquette lessons have been most...intriguing, Ambassador, I'm afraid I've no talent for charming courts," Ellana fought a smirk. "Especially if Madame de Fer's assessment is accurate. Talitha, however, has lived amongst humans most of her life and I know she is found quite charming." Ellana's eyes landed on me, mischief in them. "That said, it would also protect me if any assassination attempts were to be made on my life."

"Exactly," Leliana nodded. "And from what my agents have gathered, it sounds like that could be a possibility."

"So you're going to use her as bait, again?" Cullen growled.

"Only if she agrees," Ellana bit at him.

"Well, of course, but surely you must still be there in some capacity?" I probed.

"I will be. As you," Ellana grinned like a cat. "You are Lieutenant-Commander of the Mage Battalion. You are no less part of my retinue than the others. Plus, it will allow us to change roles if necessary. We must have a plan for every contingency in place."

"So...you request everyone be allowed to come?" Josephine inquired.

"Yes. We must be prepared for anything," Ellana stated, dropping her mischievous manner. "If there is an assassin in their midst, we have no idea what we could be walking into."

"Then everyone needs to be attending Josie and Lady Vivienne's lessons," Leliana stated before glaring at Cullen. "Including you, Commander."

Cullen was looking at me when I turned to look at him. "Does this mean...Talitha will be part of the etiquette lessons now?"

Leliana was fighting a smirk. "Yes. Is that the motivation you needed, Commander?"

Cullen turned a little pink, scratching his neck. "N-no. I..."

"I daresay it was," Leliana teased. "I've never seen you so flustered."

Cullen turned even redder. "I am not flustered. Can we focus, please?" Josephine, Leliana, Ellana and I all chuckled. He huffed out a breath.

"I wanted to propose the outfits I plan on us wearing to the palace," Josephine stated when she finished chuckling. Holding up a drawing, she had a broad smile on her face. "We would all be dressed in these. It would present us as a unified force, one focused on our military power."

Ellana looked horrified and I could not deny feeling the same way. Cullen and Cassandra were the only ones that would be able to pull of the formal military uniform drawn upon the page, the rest of us would look absolutely ridiculous, not to mention the outcry Vivienne and Dorian would have at what they would no doubt call a 'sorry' outfit.

"Josie, you know I love you," Leliana began, "But there is no way on the Maker's green earth that I am wearing that to a ball at the Winter Palace."

"What do you mean?" Josephine's smile faltered.

"I understand the idea, Josie, but...surely we can do better, yes?" Leliana questioned. "We can be unified without...committing social suicide."

"The Court would understand," Josephine argued. "We are a military organization. This would capture that."

"I have to agree with Leliana, Josephine," Ellana stated. "Those are hideous. I respect what you want to present, but...no, by the Dread Wolf, no."

Josephine huffed. "Then what would you suggest?"

"Unified in color scheme and everyone wears the Inquisition's symbol, but each outfit has personal flair to it," Ellana stated. "I want to wear something pretty. And we're going to a ball. At the Winter Palace. Forgive me if it's childish, but I want to look beautiful and intimidating. Work with Vivienne, Leliana, Solana, Dorian and Talitha."

"Very well," Josephine pouted.

"For what it's worth, I rather liked it," Cullen offered. Josephine gave him a small smile.

"Of course you did," Leliana chided. "Your fashion sense comes only from your lover. Left to your own devices, you'd consider your armor an appropriate outfit for any occasion." Cullen went red as Leliana looked him over. "That said, we apologize for interrupting your dinner plans, Commander. Lieutenant-Commander." Leliana was smirking as she gave a slight bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Cullen flushed deeper. "We-we were...that is...Maker's breath." The others left the room, giggling like young girls. Cullen met my eye and I blushed, looking away. "We...we can still have dinner, if you would like?"

I looked at him. "I would."

"I will get word to the kitchens," he nodded. "Come to my door in half an hour?"

"Half an hour," I nodded.

He looked at me for a few moments before coming around the large table. He took my hand, bowing slightly as he kissed my hand. Straightening, he scowled. "They all act as if I am some uncultured Dog Lord, incapable of manners...or fashion."

I kept myself from smiling. "You are Fereldan, Cullen. But you are also a knight and a gentleman; of simpler tastes, perhaps, than that of Orlais. You simply do not have time for Orlesian etiquette."

His face softened. "I am glad I have at least one person here who understands me."

"I try," I murmured as he bent to kiss my cheek. "I will see you shortly."

His lips still brushing my skin, causing a blush to rise at the heat of them. "Not soon enough, my beloved."

He swept from the room, leaving me slightly breathless before I collected myself enough to follow after him. Working my way from the War Room, out to the main hall and into the living quarters, I worked my way up the stairs, not believing Cullen had moved so fast that I caught no sight of him. Instead, I ran into Dorian. The man looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.

"Ah, Lady Talitha," he bowed. "Looking as lovely as ever."

"Thank you, Ser Dorian," I inclined my head.

"Am I to blame Cullen for your lack of time to speak with me?" The man lifted a groom brow.

I chuckled. "Perhaps. Forgive me, Ser Dorian. I have meant to speak with you, I just..." I shifted uncomfortably.

Dorian's demeanor changed to one of understanding. "I see, forgive me. You hardly know me or Solas and yet you are to speak with us about a situation that is no doubt very personal to you. In my eagerness to help you, I did not think how...intrusive it may be to speak with near perfect strangers about such private matters."

Relief flooded through me. "Yes, exactly. I mean no offense by it, Ser Dorian."

"Just Dorian, please," Dorian smiled softly. "I am not at all offended, my lady. I simply ask that you trust my motivations. I wish only to assist you. If you would speak with me after your plans with Cullen, I would be most honored to help you in this matter."

"'My plans with Cullen'?" I quirked a brow.

Dorian snorted a laugh. "The man was practically flying up the stairs, a look of fierce determination on that chiseled face of his. I tried to stop him for a friendly chat, reminding him that he owes me a game of chess and I saw my life flash before my eyes. I had to duck out of his way lest I be flattened beneath his stomping boots. We've all come to notice he has that demeanor only when it pertains to you. His normal ill humor increases tenfold when he's impatient to be with you." I blushed deeply. Dorian waved a hand.
"Oh, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, we all find it rather adorable. I daresay it drives most of us positively mad with jealousy. No matter how much he may try to hide his affection for you, he cannot. That is a rare thing indeed."

"Thank you, Dorian," I murmured.

Dorian smiled roguishly. "I wouldn't thank me just yet."

Confused, I furrowed my brow. "What do you-"

"-Sweet Maker!" I heard Cullen roar. "SERA!"

I heard a cackle before Sera wrenched the door open to take the stairs two at a time. "Oy, thanks for the distraction, Vinty! Shoulda seen the look on his face!" Dorian chuckled at her as she ran past, shouting over her shoulder, "Cooled him off for ya, Princess!"

Biting my lip to keep from laughing, I feigned a glare at Dorian. The man simply winked at me. "We may find it adorable, but that doesn't mean we'll refrain from making your lives a living hell."

I burst out laughing. "Then it must mean we're doing something right to earn everyone's scorn."

Dorian smiled broadly. "I knew there was something I liked about you. Clever girl."

"I will speak with you later, Dorian," I smiled.

Dorian waved a hand as he continued down to the main hall. Climbing the rest of the stairs quickly, I came to the hall of our floor to find Cullen standing in the frame of his door, soaking wet. Sera had rigged a bucket of water to spill when it opened. He was positively livid and looked like a drowned cat, his eyes glaring at everything. His hair was beginning to curl, water dripping off his fur mantle, a puddle of water at his feet.
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at him. His eyes met mine and his face softened a fraction, his lips twitching into a wry smile. I walked towards him, intent on drying him off, but found that summoning fire was even more difficult than before. Eventually, it came, but it was no more than a warming of my hands. Ignoring the worry that cropped up, I clasped my hands behind my back.

"Well, my lion," I stifled a laugh at the look he gave me. "I would dry you off, but I find you rather endearing like this."

Cullen snorted. "I knew it was only a matter of time. Sera seems to have an knack for pranks. I will have to...do something back."

I laughed. "That sounded very threatening, Commander."

He glared at me, half-heartedly. "You lack faith in my ability?"

"Hardly," I shook my head. "I'm sure if you put your mind to it, you'll find a way."

Calculations began occurring behind his eyes and a fiendish smile spread on his lips. "Oh yes, that I will."

"I hope Leliana is not rubbing off on you, Cullen," I quirked a brow, laughter in my voice.

Mischief danced in his eyes. "Not at all, but I know there are plenty who would happily assist me in getting her back. Getting them both back as I am sure Dorian was part of it."

I bit my lip. "Perhaps."

He bent to kiss my cheek, water flicking on my skin that was ice cold. "Let me get cleaned up."

"You mean you don't want to spend our dinner in wet breeches?" I cocked my head.

Cullen smirked before shaking his wet hair at me, causing me to yelp as more cold water flicked onto my skin. "It would not be my first choice, no," he chuckled.

I laughed before going through the door to my room. Climbing the stairs, I was again taken aback by the splendidness of the room that Ellana had gifted me. It was beautiful, cozy and I loved everything about it. I was eager to spend more time here.
Going to the armoire in the bathing room, I opened it to find all manner of clothing. Everything I had designed, but also some that Solana and Ellana had designed for me. All sorts of fabrics and looks, but none that did not suit me.
My eyes caught on a dress that looked to be made of liquid silver. Velvet, flowing, yet cut in a simple elegance. Removing the dress I had been wearing, I pulled this one over my head. A neckline that scooped just below my collarbone; long, voluminous sleeves; the fabric flowing yet wrapping against my figure. It was beautiful and soft as silk against my skin.
Dresses had been my outfit of choice since recovering as my skin was still sensitive, any tight fabric, particularly over the burn from the dragon causing my flesh to feel like it was on fire. Solana assumed it was from all the damage I had suffered and the subsequent magic. My body was still technically healing at a level we could not see and the sensitivity was its way of letting me know.
I slipped the matching shoes onto my feet, heeled to give me just a little more height. Going to the mirror, I checked my hair and makeup, Solana having taught me how to do both. Instead of the usual updo, I removed the pins and let the white-blonde waves tumble over my shoulders. Sweeping them to one side, I pinned them in place. Looking at my reflection again, I wanted to remove the wig, but knew I did not have time enough to fix my natural hair.
You know he's going to abandon you. He's going to use you like everyone else and abandon you. You're wrong.
Satisfied, I draped my fur trimmed cloak over my arm and left the room. Moving down the stairs, I headed for Cullen's door. Heart fluttering as I gave a gentle knock. I heard his footfalls on the other side, the hard soles of his new boots clapping against the stone floors. I felt nervous excitement twist my belly as the door opened.
My breath caught taking him in. He already had some stubble back, making him more rugged than outright beautiful, but as soon as his mouth twisted into that smug smirk, I went weak at the knees. Dressed in a cream, woolen tunic that he'd tucked into his dark leather trousers, he looked breathtakingly handsome. Wearing the fur-lined jacket and doeskin gloves, he looked regal.

"Hello, darling," he murmured, his eyes flicking over me.

"Hello," I breathed causing his smirk to deepen.

He leaned down, his lips grazing my cheek. "You look stunning."

"As do you," I chuckled.

He took my hand and led me into the room. "Thank you."
My heart was starting to pound in my chest as he continued to hold my hand, leading me out to the balcony where he'd set up a small table and chairs. Dinner was already laid upon it. Roast druffalo, boiled potatoes, roast root vegetables and fluffy bread. There was a glass of red wine for me and an ale for him. He pulled my chair back and gestured for me to sit. Once I did, I turned to find a single blue iris pinched between his fingers. I looked up into his eyes.
"I saw you admiring them the other day, drawing them in your sketchbook, and I know Varric has taken to calling you 'Iris'."

"They are my favorite flowers," I murmured. Cullen tucked the bloom over my left ear, which was exposed. "Why Varric calls me Iris, I've no idea. Not that I mind."

Cullen chuckled as he took his seat. "You know, I asked him, wanting to know if you'd told him they were your favorite or something. He laughed and said no. He uses nicknames for nearly everyone. He refused to tell me if there was any rhyme or reason behind them. All he would tell me was that some were obvious, others took observation to figure out."

My lips twitched at the mention of Varric. "Varric says you're like a doting parent with the troops. He even wonders if you carry portraits of them all in your pocket."

Cullen barked a laugh. "That would be a resolute 'no'." Leaning forward he laced his fingers through mine. "Though I wouldn't mind carrying your portrait in my pocket."

I blushed, my heart flipping, "Cullen."

"You are soon to be parted from me," he said softly. "I am...not looking forward to it. If I could, I would come with you, but I must trust Rylen to take care of you in my stead once you reach the Dales."

"I am not looking forward to being parted from you, either."

"But do not misunderstand me," he stated, his eyes fierce. "I know you must do this and I know you will perform wonderfully. I look forward to reading your reports."

As we ate, we talked about all manner of things. Cullen's troops, which as he spoke about them, I understood what Varric had meant. Cullen was proud of the men he commanded, even if they did bring their challenges. He cared about them, deeply, and took his role as their commanding officer seriously. He did not want to disappoint his men, but more over he did not want to fail them. He worked harder than any person I'd ever met. All to ensure he did not become like his forebears.
I asked him how his training with Cassandra was coming along and he frustratedly admitted he'd still made no progress on that front. I encouraged him to keep trying, that I believed he could do it. He asked about my Knight-Enchanter training, which caused me to get excited talking about it. I'd finally completed my spectral blade and had begun wielding it in practice. It was a beautiful weapon and I had begun a discussion with Dagna about the mechanics of the weapon, to see if it could be fashioned into other tools. Solana had begun training as well, even managing to impress Vivienne—who was also a Knight-Enchanter—though she would never admit it. Fiona was soon to join us, though she had admitted to a lack of desire to fight unless needed.
I told Cullen what the others seemed to think of Ellana becoming a Knight-Enchanter, most glad she had not chosen necromancy like Dorian or rift magic like Solas. The magic of the spectral blade was frightening to behold, especially when Ellana was the wielder as she was incredibly fierce in battle. Ellana had told me of the history lesson Solas had given her about where the magic of the Knight-Enchanters descended from: the Arcane Warriors of the elves, also known as Dirth'ena Enasalin or Ghilan'him Banal'vhen to those who disagreed with such use of magic.
Chuckling, I told Cullen that it seemed the two paths of my life were meeting in my becoming a Knight Enchanter. Techniques from the elves honed to serve the Maker. Cullen gave a wicked smile after a moment and made me promise to spar with him prior to my departure as he wanted to see this magic for himself. I met his challenge and demanded we have the spar in front of the battalion, my stomach fluttering at the look on his face when he agreed.
I asked if he'd received any more letters from his family, he said a few updating him about Branson's wife. I was eager for Blackwall to finish the rocker to surprise Cullen with, as I knew he'd probably have little time to think of a gift for the child, but also knew he'd want to have one. I prayed to the Maker that he would be able to visit the child and his family soon. When I'd asked if he'd received word from Rosalie, his face fell and he shook his head. I wove our fingers together.

"I can hardly blame her," he clenched his jaw. "I abandoned them."

"Have you tried writing specifically to her?" I questioned.

His amber eyes met mine, the sunrise beginning to appear over the mountains that were our view. "No. What would I even say to her?"

"Whatever you need to. Anything. Everything. Nothing. Something as simple as 'Forgive me'," I murmured.

"And if I still receive no answer?"

"You did everything you could, then," I advised. "It is up to her to continue withholding forgiveness." He looked away, but his fingers tightened their grip. "They...do not know what you went through, Cullen. They need never know if you do not wish them to, but you must look at it from their perspective. They know only that you left and lost touch with them after there was trouble at the Circle."
He met my eyes again. "You do not have to tell them what happened, but you can at least apologize for what you feel guilt over in your conduct towards them." I was quiet for a moment.
"I am not saying that you should feel guilt over anything that happened. I know you have regrets in how you handled yourself in the aftermath. I know you are trying to atone. I know you want to be better than the man you became. Apologize for the man you regret becoming, not for what led you to become him." He studied my face for a few moments and then nodded.
Abruptly, he stood from his chair and came around the table, my heart thundering in my chest. Gently, he stood me up, cupping the back of my head before he kissed me tenderly. Becoming increasingly more aware of it, I felt that entity recoil at his affection, even when I craved it. Pushing it away, I pressed my hands into the hard curve of his back doing my best not to cling to him. His kiss still lingering on my lips, I kept my eyes closed for a moment after he pulled away.
"But know, that I could not be more proud of the man you are now."

When he was silent, I opened my eyes. His gaze was smoldering as he looked at me before meeting my lips in a more fervent kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on tiptoes as even in heels he had to stoop to kiss me. Gentling once more, he pulled away before wrapping me in his arms.
The embrace was warm, strong, and in his arms, I felt safer than I ever had. As I encircled his waist, I could tell he'd put some weight back on since I'd taken it upon myself to ensure he ate regularly. I listened to the beating of his heart, his steady breathing and that storm that was constantly raging within me quieted. We were silent, the sun rising a bit more as we held each other until he chuckled.

"Are you going to be able to handle being beaten in front of your battalion?"

"Are you?" I challenged.

"How about we have a bet?"

"A bet?"

"I win, you must draw a portrait of yourself for me," he smiled roguishly.

"And if I win?" I probed.

"I hadn't planned that far ahead," his voice became husky as he spoke. "But name your price."

I tapped my chin, knowing exactly what I would request of him and knowing that I could not lose no matter what. "I'll have to think on it."

He caught my chin in his fingers. "Not that it matters, as you are going to lose, my darling."

"Such confidence, my knight," I narrowed my eyes as I bared my teeth in a smile. "Perhaps I've held back in our training sessions for this exact moment?"

He gave a breathy chuckle. "Show me what you've got, Lavellan."

"Oh, I shall, Rutherford."

He gave me a quick peck before walking me to his door. "Forgive me for depriving you of sleep."

I stood on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek. "I hope soon enough, my love, I'll be your wife and you'll be depriving me of sleep for a far more enjoyable reason." You think you'll enjoy it? After what you've been through? He went pale and then scarlet, dumbstruck as I walked out his door. "Though I did enjoy dinner, very much, my lion."

He was still silent, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak. I laughed as I returned to my room. Changing out of the dress, I donned my new armor. Dagna had not finished it until the day before, adding runes and enchantments to add to its defensiveness.
At it's base was a short, sleeveless chemise of black leather that was slit up the sides to my hips, causing it to fall between my legs to my mid-thigh. The neckline fell in a deep 'v' shape, revealing more of my chest than I was comfortable with—especially when the boned, corseted bodice overlayed with silverite—was laced into place over my breasts. From the bodice fell a skirt of darkened samite, hiding the silverite chainmail that lined it. On my legs, I wore stockings that ended above my knees, held in place by silverite garters. Dagna had enchanted the garters to provide protection over the entirety of my legs so I could keep my sensitive burn exposed without compromising defensiveness. Over the stockings, she'd crafted greaves and sabatons that resembled scales made of silverite. On my arms, I wore fingerless, darkened samite gloves that hooked around my middle fingers. Buckled over the gloves, Dagna had crafted vambraces that mimicked the look of the greaves upon my legs. Gracing my shoulders, a fur pauldron on one side, while I had a silverite gardbrace on the other, rerebraces of hardened leather buckled below them. A gorget of silverite fell to my chest—thankfully covering my clevage—curved to complete the corset and buckling to it. A scarf of black silk wrapped around my neck to double as a hood, enchanted to increase my mana and provide some protection.
Cullen had commissioned another staff and pair of metal swords for me, both the same as I'd had before, but of finer materials. I tied the swords to the belt slung around my waist that bore the Inquisition's symbol and slid the staff through it's holder at my back. The hilt that I'd had Dagna craft specially for me folded like Varric's crossbow to be slid up my right vambrace, a flick of my wrist causing it to slide out into my palm, unfolding as it did. When I'd drawn the armor, I had not realized how it mirrored Cullen's armor and now looking at myself in the mirror, I blushed. It was subtle, but it was there. I wondered if he would notice.
Leaving my room, my eyes flicked to Cullen's door, but I knew he'd already be going about his duties. Foregoing our usual training, I was to meet with Solas in the rotunda. Working my way down the stairs, I eventually came to the main hall. It was already bustling with activity, but I made my way to the door near where Varric seemed to have staked his territory. A fireplace with what had become his workspace sat before it the entirety of it. I spotted the dwarf hard at work already, a pair of spectacles on his squash nose. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up and gave me a knowing grin as I approached.

"No wonder Cullen was looking so smug when he passed through," he chuckled.

"He looked smug?" I questioned.

Varric scowled. "Ugh. He's been insufferably smug lately. You might want to tell him to watch his back. I think Leliana might shiv him."

I chuckled. "I'll be sure to warn him."

"You do that and while you're at it, Iris," Varric warned, "Be careful with him."

I raised a brow. "You fear I won't be?"

"I fear he's head over heels for you and you don't realize it," he advised. "You don't realize how deep in he really is."

"What makes you say that?" I questioned.

Varric put down his quill. "I've known Cullen awhile. Granted, from more of distance than you, but I've never seen him like this. He's usually so…disciplined. He…how do I put this? He can't think straight when you're around. He can't talk about anything, but you and his troops. It's like a man talking about his wife and kids." The dwarf chuckled.

"And the problem?"

"You don't act that way," Varric's russet eyes looked me over. "Of the two of you, I expected him to be the hard to read one, not you."

My lips twitched. "Which just goes to show you, Master Dwarf, that you do not know him as well as you think you do."

Varric put his hands up and laughed. "True enough. As a writer, you come to a place where you can read people because you write them. I don't normally get people wrong, but you…the Inquisitor…I can't get a good read on either one of you."

"Well, I assure you, Varric, I know what he means to me," I smiled softly. "And I'm beginning to understand what I mean to him."

Varric looked me over once more. "That's all we can ask for then." He picked up his quill again and was going to return to writing.

"Varric?" I questioned, causing him to pause once more. "Out of curiosity, why do you care?"

"He's a good kid, I'd just like to see him have a happy ending," he stated. "I'd like to see you both have a happy ending."

"You know, I never did thank you for what you did while I was injured," I smiled.

Varric flashed a roguish smile. "I've no idea what you're talking about. But if I did, I'd say no problem." I chuckled. "Also, once that big surprise is unveiled in the upper courtyard, you need to start joining in on the weekly games of Wicked Grace I play with the others."

"I look forward to it," I nodded.

Letting him resume his work, I opened the door to the rotunda, finding Solas bent over his desk. Books surrounded him, one of the shards glowing nearby. He straightened as I entered, his face unreadable. "Lieutenant-Commander."

"Solas," I nodded. "The materials you requested have been approved. What did you wish to speak with me about?"

Solas waved me over before pointing a slender finger at the shard on his desk. "Pick it up."

"Why?" I questioned.

"You are still my pupil, da'len," Solas reprimanded. "Do as I ask."

"Very well," I ground out.

As I extended my hand towards the shard, I felt an odd stirring. As my fingers closed around it, the strange shard warm to the touch, I gasped. Feeling as the Fade opened, I was pulled in. Looking all around, I was surrounded by red rock, waterfalls, trees and crystalline pools of water. Strange creatures ran around at my feet, the remnants of hewn pillars dotted around. I was pulled out of the bottom of the crystal pool, ruined stone steps beneath my feet.
Before me appeared a bizarre door that seemed strangely familiar, braziers of ethereal fire on either side and etched columns beyond the braziers. The door beckoned and warned at the same time as alien writing danced before my eyes. The calling, the warning was in elven, but I could not understand it. I watched myself place the shard in a slot in the door, but the empty slots shone indicating that the other shards were needed. As suddenly as it had happened, I was pulled back out of the Fade. Solas's hand was wrapped around my arm, his eyes opening at the same time mine had.

"You saw it, yes?" His eyes were intense.

"What…what was that?" I questioned. "We were in the Fade, but..."

"Did you understand it? Get a location?"

"I understood that it was a door and that the shards are the keys, but beyond that…" I thought for a moment. "The door was calling to me, but warning at the same time. It was in elven. Then…writing danced before my eyes. I assume that was elven as well. I…cannot speak it and I know no one who can write or read elven."

"Ancient elven," Solas corrected. "There are most likely none alive who can read and write ancient elven perfectly, but from my studies in the Fade, I could make out some of what was written. I, however, was not beckoned by the door. I was only given a warning to stay away." Solas studied the shard as it lay upon his desk.
"I've had others hold the shard. Humans, elves, mages, non-mages, but none were able to experience what you just did." His eyes met mine. "I believe this…temple is tied to mages like us. To dreamers. That is why only you and I are able to use the crystal to enter the Fade, even if for a moment."

"How is that possible?" I questioned.

"The ancient elves possessed powers and relics far beyond our imaginings," Solas explained. "So much has been lost. Yet, this temple seems intact, untouched, at least in the vision we were granted." His brow furrowed. "You said it was 'calling to you'?"

I nodded. "That is what I felt, but I could not understand what was being said."

"Even as I held onto you, entered the Fade with you, I still heard only a warning," Solas muttered.

He began to pace around the room, silent as he thought. I knew better than to interrupt when he was like this, so I remained quiet and studied the frescos he had painted on the walls. Each told Ellana's story as it had unfolded thus far. The opening of the Breach, the destruction of the temple, assembling the Inquisition. The recruitment of the mages. The destruction of Haven. Finding Skyhold.
The frescos were stunning to look at, Solas's artistry the skill of a master. Ellana had sat with him as he painted, him telling her stories of seeing elven frescoes in the Fade at ancient ruins. He'd even met a spirit of knowledge at one of the ruins that had held onto some of the techniques, teaching Solas what it knew.
Solas had told Ellana several stories of his travels in the Fade; some beautiful, some terrifying. When Ellana recounted them to me, I could tell how enamored with the elf male she was becoming. I tried to warn her to be careful, that his nomadic life lent credence that he was used to and preferred to live life alone. Yet, he'd joined and stayed amongst the Inquisition, he even seemed to welcome Ellana's affection, so perhaps he was tired of being alone.
I glanced up to find Dorian looking down at us as he leaned over the railing of the library. He gave me a wink and I sent him a wave before he turned back to the library. He'd been in the middle of a rage about how little the library had to offer, having hoarded everything 'interesting' in his little corner. He'd requested several volumes and series to be added to the library to help further his research and 'broaden the minds of the barbaric south'. I was in support of the expansion, but Josephine asked that we wait to see what was gifted to the Inquisition as time went on.

"I would have you learn to speak elven, Talitha," Solas stated, pulling me back to the matter at hand. "It is the only way we'll know what the calling you are hearing is trying to tell you. That aside, I was able to glean two things: It is in a desert location and bears the name Solasan."

"'Solasan'?" I questioned.

"It means 'a place of pride' or 'a prideful place' depending on the intention," Solas informed me.

"That doesn't sound ominous or anything," I huffed. "Why couldn't be it 'the place of peace' or something?"

Solas's lips twisted into a smirk. "Perhaps it is a joke lost to time?"

"That would be nice, but with my luck, I seriously doubt it," I groaned. "So, what is your plan with this, Solas?"

"First, we need to figure out the location of this temple. I have wandered the Fade and found nothing," Solas looked pointedly at me. "I theorized the temple was somehow connected to dreamers, obviously, I was correct. On that theory alone I was planning on asking you to accompany me to study it.
"However, I did not foresee it calling to you. That tells me you must accompany me. Unfortunately, I fear taking you there while you are still…in danger of entering the Fade. Have you spoken with the Tevinter yet?"

"No, I was going to once our meeting was concluded," I replied.

Solas gave a nod. "Do that. I would converse with you on the matter, but…Ser Dorian believes he is better suited." Solas gave a slight scowl. "Once you have spoken with him, I would speak with you once more."

I turned to leave, but then recalled the meeting with the others. "Solas, speak with Leliana. Scout Harding and her team tracked the Venatori across the Approach to an oasis in the middle of the desert. At the heart of the oasis, they uncovered an elven temple. The Venatori are unable to enter it. Perhaps that temple and this one are the same?"

Solas's head snapped up from where he'd been reading a page in a book. "I shall. Thank you."

I climbed the rounded stairs up to the library, finding Dorian searching through the titles. "Finished with the special snowflake?"

"I am no snowflake!" Solas shot back.

"Oh, dear me, I forgot you were down there!" Dorian hollered, causing Solas to swear up at him in elven.

"As entertaining as this is," I interrupted. "There was something of importance we need to discuss?"

"Ah, yes," Dorian's face turned serious. "If you would." He gestured for me to follow him. "I thought perhaps you would prefer if your strapping young templar were part of the conversation? I sent a messenger to him asking that he be in his office. The Inquisitor as well."

"Well, I…" I began.

"It would be best to have those you most trust with you," Dorian stated as we headed back down the stairs and out the door that led to the bridge connecting Cullen's office to the main keep.

"You are beginning to worry me, Ser Dorian," I murmured.

"You'll have to forgive me for that," he offered. "What I have to tell you is not going to be easy—if what the Inquisitor tells me is true. You'll have to forgive me, also, that I did not disclose the whole of it to her as I felt that you should be the first to know." He stopped us in front of the door, his face more serious than I had ever seen it. "Know, too, that if you ever have need to talk about it, I am willing to lend an understanding ear."

I furrowed my brow at him, but he entered Cullen's office. "Ah, Commander, you're here. Good!"

"The messenger said it was urgent Ser—M—Talitha?" Cullen questioned, his eyes landing on me. I did not miss the widening of his eyes as they traveled over my armor. Collecting himself, but not losing his look of surprise. "Wh-What is this about, Ser Dorian?"

"Just a moment, we have to await the Inquisitor," Dorian hushed Cullen. Dorian took my hand and looped it through his arm, leading me to Cullen's couch. "Why don't you have a seat, my dear?"

"What is going on, Dorian? Talitha?" Cullen was growing impatient, worry in his voice as his eyes stayed on me.

"Commander?" Ellana's voice called as she strode through the door, in her new armor as well. It was fashioned after the armor she'd worn previously that had been destroyed during Haven. She looked fierce in it, but concern was on her face. "The message says it's—Oh, Dorian? Talitha?"

"Now that everyone is here," Dorian began, "Let's get to business." Dorian's grey eyes fell to me. "As you all know, something reprehensible was done to Talitha. A blood magic ritual was performed on her when she was a child in an attempt to seal away her dreamer abilities."
His gaze flicked to Ellana. "Your Keeper was successful in this, but I believe her ritual had an additional effect that explains why Talitha still has had such difficulty with her magic, particularly her mana. The results of this ritual bear too striking a resemblance to a ritual performed only here in the south and only in uttermost secrecy. Here, magic and mage children are considered curses so, naturally, magic and mages were used to create a way to remove magic. Of course, there's far more barbaric ways that are tried such as drowning your children and such, but I digress."
Dorian looked to Cullen. "The ritual performed on Talitha, I believe, sundered her mana pool. Upon breaking the Rite of Tranquility, the spirit now tied to her essence overrode the ritual that sealed away her dreamer abilities only because it is a spirit of the Fade. I believe without this spirit, Talitha would still be unable to use her dreamer abilities, thus why her mana pool remains unchanged. The mana pool of a mage is both a physical and Fade-born gift. Whereas, her dreamer abilities are purely Fade-born and tied to her emotions."

"So…how do we restore it?" I questioned.

Dorian's eyes found mine. "Why don't you save that question for last? Ask the others first."

Fear pooling in my gut at his words, the subtle warning in them, I did as he asked. "Why do you describe it as a 'pool'?"

"As you know, mana is an extension of the Fade, its energy, made manifest in the physical world by those of us who can wield it as magic," Dorian began. "All men, elves and even qunari are connected to the Fade, evidenced by the fact that we all dream, dwarves being the exception. That said, not all have the ability to draw power from the Fade, that is what distinguishes us as mages. However, this ability has limits. Just like our Commander and Bull can lift varying amounts of weights, each mage has their own limit of how much mana they can wield.
"Mana is similar to a muscle, just as Cullen's rather toned arms, and like a muscle can be trained and strengthened, but it will always have a limit. A stronger body and a stronger mind can increase a mage's willpower, thus enabling them to possibly wield more or sustain their magic for longer periods of time. But just as Cullen could never train himself to lift as much as Bull due to the physical limitations of his human body, each mage has their own unique limit.
"The difference here and why it is better described as a pool versus a muscle is that our mana can replenish in a short amount of time or be refilled and even bolstered with lyrium potions. Whereas, Cullen must rest and feed his physical body in order for it to recuperate. Our mana pool acts as a vessel to hold the ever-flowing energy of the Fade, emptying and refilling rather speedily because the Fade never empties, whereas the physical body is limited and takes far longer to recover from the expensing of energy because the source of its energy comes from itself. The similarity in both, thus showing the connection of mana to the physical body, is that over-exertion, reaching beyond our mana limit, can lead to injury or death."

"What makes you suspect that my...'pool' has been sundered?" I probed.

"That is how this ritual works from what I understand," Dorian began to pace. "Despite the Templar Order's beliefs, you cannot remove mana from within a mage, not fully. We all possess it, even Cullen, as it is what connects us to the Fade. Cullen cannot wield his mana in his waking state because he is not a mage, but he does so unconsciously when he visits the Fade in his dreams, or that is at least the theory. Tranquil have had their mana pool magically blocked, but as evidenced by yourself, it is not removed.
"The ritual performed on you, essentially acts the same way, but your Keeper did not block the entirety of your mana pool, only that which allows you to wield your dreamer abilities. This, I theorize, she only accomplished because she too is a dreamer. She was able to enter your very self and put a dam up so to speak. It blocked your flow, but did not wholly stop it."

"If it is like the Rite, how was I not blocked from entering the Fade? Made emotionless like when I was Tranquil?" I questioned.

"That, I honestly do not know," Dorian frowned. "The children that have been subjected to this ritual either became like the Tranquil, became possessed or died, but their ritual was not being performed by a dreamer."

"If we are able to restore this 'pool', what will that mean?"

"You will be able to wield your magic without hindrance," Dorian explained. "I do not know how deep your pool may be, but you should tire far more slowly and be able to wield spells that require a sustaining output of mana with far more ease. From what I have observed of your magic, you have mastered the pool you currently possess, but instinctively use spells that require only minimal mana. Such as your ice weapons: when you conjure them, they are willed into being and become a part of the physical world. You no longer have to keep pouring mana into them because they are a physical creation, but just like with all magic, blood magic being the exception, when your mana runs out or if you died, they would cease to exist because their existence is tied to yours.
"When you try more advanced spells that require mana to be poured into them constantly to sustain them, such as what you did with the templar the other day, you tire quickly. You've improved from where you were, according to Ellana, but upon speaking with your family, you were of far more sustained skill prior to this ritual being performed."

"She could sustain spells far easier when we were both in the Circle as well," Cullen murmured. "Since breaking the Rite, her magic has been different from what I remember."

"Really?" Dorian paused his pacing to meet Cullen's gaze. Then his brow furrowed and he looked between us. "You knew each other...?" Understanding dawned on his face. "Yet, another piece of the puzzle."

Cullen blushed, realizing he should not have said anything, "Dorian, that is not common knowledge-"

"-Oh fret not, Commander," Dorian waved a hand. "I may be a penchant for gossip, but not that kind of gossip. I would never do anything to betray the Inquisition's secrets. I trade in gossip that is fun, not life-threatening. I am not a bard." Cullen gave a nod after a moment's hesitation and Dorian began pacing again.
"Back to the matter at hand. Perhaps the difference in your magic now stems from all that has occurred in your life. This ritual, being made Tranquil, breaking the Rite of Tranquility..." Dorian thought for a moment.
"There was a magister that studied different manifestations of mana. In his studies, he came to the conclusion that when mana manifests, but is not properly trained, it can shift into something unexpected. Perhaps this is akin to that? That because of all the violations to your mana, you cannot properly wield it? You have more ease with your dreamer abilities because they are less tied to your mana, but you lack the ability to properly control them-not only because you never learned, but also because they are not yet fully restored to what you were born with?"

"What do you mean?" I breathed.

"I mean that the magic you now wield is not fully yours," Dorian proposed. "Because of the ritual and everything else, your mana is in such disarray you're only wielding bits and pieces of what you were originally born with."

I began breathing quickly, my heart pounding. "The...The Keeper said as much. When...when my mana first manifested, the only abilities I had were my dreamer abilities. I did not wield elemental magic. Once my dreamer abilities were sealed away, elemental magic took its place." I closed my eyes.
"In Haven...Purpose, the spirit that now shares my essence, opened the Fade to me. When he did...I was capable of things I had not been before. I wielded magic...it was beyond anything I thought myself capable of, but I credited it to Purpose because he is a spirit. Was it...was it actually...me?" Maker...Andraste...what am I?

Dorian stopped, stunned. "Then your Keeper did not merely block your pool, but redirected the flow. Perhaps that is why you were not like the Tranquil, she still gave your mana an outlet, just a different one. But you were not as talented in it, still are not because it is like a square peg being forced into a round hole." He put a hand to his chin. "That makes far more sense, but how did she do it?"

"I don't care how she did it, Dorian," I snarled. "She...she...Andraste, preserve me, what did she do to me?" I gasped out. "Maker, have mercy, what did she do to me?" I heard Cullen move, but it was Ellana that came and wrapped her arm around me. I took a deep breath and kept going. "Then, will this change how my magic functions?"

Dorian shook his head. "It should not change the magic you wield. Whatever has been manifested through your metamorphoses, I do not foresee being undone. All mages can wield elemental magic, perhaps you did not when you were younger because your dreamer gifts are of far more power than your elemental gifts. The only difference in function you should see is in the wear using your magic has on you as this will, hopefully, realign your mana as it was originally manifested."

"Will this change anything about me?" I murmured, Ellana squeezing me closer. "I...have trouble with memories and I believe it's due to the blood magic."

"That is a more difficult question to answer," Dorian admitted. "I would wager you've already undergone the most significant change that you will by having your abilities restored, albeit disjointedly, but unfortunately, we will not have a clear answer until the ritual is undone."

"And how is it undone?" Ellana demanded.

Dorian's eyes did not leave mine. "Only the one who performed the ritual can undo it. It is blood magic. Only blood can undo it."

"NO!" Ellana shouted as she snapped up from the couch. "No! That…that harellan is not allowed near her. Not ever again!"

Maker, please. Please, no. "There is no other way?" I questioned, my voice shaky. "I abhor blood magic and I vowed never to see her again."

"I understand, truly I do," Dorian said softly, "but I am afraid there is no other way. Believe me when I say I tried to find any other solution."

Rage and sorrow were writhing in my chest. I felt sick, gutted. "I have to think about this. Perhaps a hampered mana pool is worth not having to be put through anything like that again?"

"It is your decision of course, but this is where Solas had valuable input—and knowledge I clearly do not," Dorian went on. "He knows you experienced a change of some sort following Haven. He believes undoing this ritual may allow ease in dealing with whatever else is going on, perhaps even solving that mystery, but you have to speak more with him on that front."

So what will it be? Me or her? I clenched my jaw, but gave a nod. "Thank you, Dorian."

"If you require anything further, I am at your disposal," he offered before sweeping from the room.

"Fenedhis lasa!" Ellana swore, the torches and candles around the room guttering. She came to kneel before me. "I am so sorry."

No, she isn't. It's her fault this happened. Everything that's happened to you is because of her.No! That isn't true. "You've nothing to apologize for da'len. It is Deshanna."

"You don't have to do this if you do not wish to," Ellana urged. "We'll find another way."

My eyes flicked up to Cullen, his gaze intent upon me. "I fear I am running out of time."

"What do you mean?" Cullen questioned.

"Whatever is…different about me…it is getting more difficult to…suppress," I admitted.

Ellana took my hands in hers. "Tell us. Tell us what's happening."

She's lying. She doesn't care. "I…I can't explain it, but I just know it's getting worse."

"But you're sure it's not a demon?" Ellana probed.

"I'm sure," I assured.

"Then what is it?" Cullen asked, I could tell he was upset.

"We're not sure," I admitted. "Solas believes it has a spiritual implication, but believes it is more."

"'More' meaning what?" His jaw was clenched, his eyes flashing.

Anger rising, I looked to Ellana. "Ellana, perhaps you should give us a moment."

Ellana stood, rising to her full height before she charged Cullen. "Commander. I do not care about your prior grievances. Whatever has happened to my sister was entirely out of her control."

"I know, Inquisitor," Cullen growled. "My anger is for her, not at her."

"Remember that." Ellana looked at me. "I must leave you. The dragon carcass from the Hinterlands is being brought in and I am to judge our prisoners later." Ellana left Cullen's office.

We simply stood staring at each other. Cullen closed the distance between us, but made no move to touch me. "What are you thinking, my love?"

"I'm thinking that I would really like to hit something right now," I growled.

Cullen smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I think I can help with that. It's about time for training and you do have a bet to lose."

I bared my teeth. "There's no way I'm losing, not now."

"Good," he nodded. "Unleash it all upon me, Meira. All your rage, all your sorrow. Let it all out. Don't hold back. I can take it."

"You may regret those words," I warned as I felt that rage burning in my gut.

He gave me a feral grin. "I honestly doubt it."

Together, we made our way to the training yard outside the armory. The battalion members were already there, Barris and Henry Trevelyan running them through drills. I'd delegated to Fiona the overseeing of the internal affairs of the mages: education, research, necessities and the like while Solana had taken over all the duties for the battalion. She stood next to Barris, leading the mages. At our approach, Barris called for a halt and salute.

"Commander. Lieutenant-Commander." He greeted.

"Ser Barris. Ser Trevelyan. Ser Amell." I nodded to each of them. "Commander Cullen will be joining us. We have our first assignments. The Commander and I are to ready the battalion before departure."

"What do you recommend?" Barris questioned.

"Today, nothing more than observation," Cullen stated, his hands on the pommel of his sword. "The Lieutenant-Commander and I are to spar. You are to observe. Barris, Trevelyan, take note of my techniques and implement them into off-time training. Mages, study the Lieutenant-Commander; her battle magic is what you are to aspire to. Study and learn. We will begin physical training tomorrow."Cullen's golden eyes landed on Solana. "Amell, you are to call the outcome of the match." He turned to Barris. "Before we begin, how are Asaala, Laren and Amelia doing?"

"Ser is preparing them, but they have not been given their first drought. They…hoped to speak with you before they do," Barris informed Cullen.

Cullen was strapping his shield into place, having removed his fur cloak so he was in only the vest, revealing more of his armor. I loved the obsidian on him, the dark metal and gold accents causing his eyes to look like liquid bronze. "Very good. I will speak with them after Denam is judged. Join us, Ser Barris."

"I will, Commander," Barris nodded.

His serious demeanor shifted as he smirked at me, dropping into his defensive stance. "Are you ready for this, Lieutenant?"

Let it all out. I can take it. "Are you, Commander?" I challenged, taking my own stance.

He smiled at me, baring his teeth. I ordered Ghilani to stay with Solana before taking a deep breath. Not hesitating a moment, Cullen sprint for me. He's so fast. Summoning my shield, I met his blows. Each quicker than a snake's strike and powerful enough that they sent shockwaves up my arm.
I jumped backwards shifting the Fade to send me further. I could not be in his immediate reach or he'd end this quickly.
No. Lead from the front. You are a Knight-Enchanter. You do not run.
Gritting my teeth, I planted my feet. Breathing deep as Solas had taught me, I centered myself and felt my mana stir within me. I had to focus. Another deep breath, I closed my eyes, reaching out through the Fade. I could sense him then, the tightness of his muscles, the thrumming of his heart, his measured breaths. I felt him shift, his body tightening as he pushed himself forward. He was so powerful and fast.
I waited until the last second before flicking my wrist and summoning my spectral blade, meeting his swing with my own. We met swing for swing, my own runes and enchantments working to boost my speed and strength just as his were doing for him. Metal and magic met, blow for blow, neither giving ground or dropping guard, but I knew this would not be enough to beat him. Waiting for him to swing his blade again, when he did, I phased out of reality and into the Fade. His eyes followed me as if he could sense me as well.
Faster. I began to dance around him, phasing in and out of reality. Each time he met my blade, his eyes shining with pride and adrenaline. Faster. I have to push faster. Grinding my teeth, I pushed harder, phasing in and out faster than I'd ever done, soon he lost track of me as I nearly flew around him.
Blade and shield met my swings, but he was a second late and I was gaining until he did what I had not expected. He hit me square in the chest with his shield as he thrust it into where he calculated I would appear next, causing me to stumble back. Dropping his weapons, he grabbed me with his hands and tackled me to the ground, the hilt of my blade getting knocked out of my hand. He pinned my arms to the ground with his hands as he straddled me. I couldn't phase this way, the possibility of getting stuck in the ground a reality or stuck in him.

"I told you, you were going to lose," he mocked before bending closer to me. "I rather like your armor, by the way."

"Thank you, but this is far from over, Commander," I promised.

Looking smug, he believed he had me pinned as he had all those months ago at Dennet's farm, but if he was going to fight dirty, so was I. Flashing him a grin, I thrust my hips into his with enough force he would feel it. I saw him turn red, his grip on my wrists loosening just enough that I yanked free, kicking him off me before I rolled backwards and Fade-stepped to my dropped hilt. I summoned my blade before Fade-stepping back to him.
He drew his dagger and I, amazed, watched as he met my blade with it. Swing for swing, dagger met blade until he hooked the hilt of his weapon around my wrist, trying to send my blade flying again, but I phased, causing his hand to drop. We kept going, neither gaining ground until his free hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me to his chest.

"Come on, Lieutenant," Cullen murmured, his eyes smoldering as I felt a hand go along my curves until it grasped one the hilt of my metal swords. He unsheathed it as he shoved me back. "Stop holding back. I can handle this in my sleep."

Growling in frustration, I summoned my ice blades and again we danced. I had to get through his guard somehow as I was already tiring. Thinking, I began Fade-stepping around him, going so fast, that I did not know how he was keeping pace with me. Eventually, we'd knocked each other's weapons from our hands. I was spent magically, he was heaving in breaths. I'd kept him from retrieving his shield or weapons, but he'd done the same for me.
I had only his dagger left, strapped at my back where it always was; I calculated he had one dagger left somewhere, but I was unsure where he could have hidden it. We were circling each other, but all it would take is him lunging at me and getting me to the ground and it would be over. Then I had an idea, to let him come. I waited for him to lunge. When he did, I turned using his momentum to slam him onto the ground, but he pulled me with him. Landing in a tangle of limbs and metal, I drew his dagger to his throat as I felt steel against my flesh.

"Draw!" Solana shouted. "It's a draw!"

We stayed tangled up, both of us panting and sweating as we looked into each other's eyes. Heart pounding, I wanted to kiss him, but was brought back to reality with the shouts and clapping that filled my ears. Cullen blinked as well, his pupils constricting. Both of us pulling our weapons from the other, Cullen stood and offered his hand. Taking it, he pulled me to his chest.

"You performed beautifully," he murmured. "I am proud to have you as my Lieutenant-Commander." Stepping away, he flashed a smirk. "I suppose this means we must both fulfill our ends of the bargain?"

"Fair enough," I nodded. "I owe you a portrait."

"And I owe you…?" He quirked a brow.

"I'm still thinking on it, Commander," I stated. "Besides, I believe you are needed by the Inquisitor." I nodded towards Cullen's legate, Sela, who was approaching in our peripheral.

"You are earning my impatience, Ambassador," Cullen growled.

I gave him a small smile, but said nothing as I turned to the battalion. "You are dismissed for today. Make the most of the extra time."

Salutes were awarded all around. Solana came to my side, pulling me in for a hug. "Are you alright?"

"Not particularly, but I'm not quite ready to talk about it and…there's someone I need to speak with," I murmured as I watched Cullen's back.

"I'm here when you need me," Solana assured. "I must meet with Dagna. The dragon's carcass is being delivered."

"I know, Helisma is to study it with the two of you."

"We'll let you know what we discover," Solana stated, a smile on her face. "I am ecstatic!"

"I'm sure you are. How is your family doing?"

Her coffee eyes met mine. "Well. We're having our difficulties, but…we've finally found each other. I…I cannot thank the Maker enough."

While she gets everything she's ever hoped for, your Maker only punishes you. "I am happy for you, Sol."

Solana hugged me tighter. "Do not lose hope, Talitha. The Maker is still working in your life. Your blessings will come in time."

I nodded before releasing her and heading up the stairs to the main hall. All were gathering inside, looking towards the throne Ellana would occupy as she sat in judgment over Denam, Alexius and the chieftain. I worked my way through the growing crowd to the garden. Vastly improved from what it had been, Ma had turned the untamed space into a garden to rival any noble's. Flowers bloomed everywhere, the trees lush as dappled light filtered through the canopies. Medicinal herbs grew everywhere, but only added to the beauty instead of distracting from it. The fountain in the middle had been difficult to install, but worth it as it trickled, the sound like soft bells.
Ma was not in her usual spot tending to the herbs, but I found Mahanon leaning against a column. He was glowering, obviously in thought, as he observed Camlen playing with the fledgling mages, their teacher and Fiona conversing not far from them. I had demanded that the children be given a couple hours to play outside during their lessons. They seemed to flourish because of it.
I came to stand next to Mahanon. Cullen had told me of his apology as Da had demanded Mahanon extend. Cullen knew the male was still angry with him, but his apology had seemed sincere. Since apologizing and deciding to stay, Mahanon had taken to sulking on his own all around the fortress, only visible when he was needed to look after Camlen. He knew I was at his side, his posture shifting subtly, but he said nothing.

"I…need you to do something for me, cousin," I breathed.

His harsh demeanor dropped as his hazel eyes met mine, the beads in his hair tinkling as his head turned. "What is it?"

"I need you to track down the clan and bring them here. If not the whole clan, then just the Keeper," I ordered.

His gaze flicked between mine. "Why?"

I clenched my jaw. "I need her to undo the blood magic she performed on me. Only she can undo it."

His lips pursed. "I will see it done."

"Mahanon," I murmured. "Swiftly, please."

He nodded. "As soon as Auntie returns, I will leave," he assured. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist. I looked back at him.
"I know I…have things to work through, but…please do not doubt that I care deeply for you, for Ellana, for our family. I am not in the place Uncle is, but…there is truth in what he says. Truth in what you said."
Mahanon glanced to Ghilani at my hip. "Fen'Harel has blessed you. He has been the god I've worshipped in secret for years. I believe there is more to him than we've come to believe. This wolf becoming your companion is a sign to me that I should heed your wisdom." His eyes met mine again. "Ir abelas, cousin. Forgive my fumbling. I will see this done."

"Thank you, Mahanon."

Returning to the main hall, I stood amongst the crowd as Denam was dragged through the room in chains. I watched as Cullen approached Ellana who looked positively terrifying as she sat upon the dais. Dressed in her armor, her makeup a little heavier, her fierce eyes glaring at Denam as he was brought forth, Cullen spoke.

"Knight-Captain Denam, Inquisitor," his voice practically spat. "He awaits judgment for serving the Lord Seeker at Therinfal Redoubt. I knew some of the knights who died there. I asked to oversee his sentencing." Ellana gave a nod of approval as Denam was thrown forward by the soldiers that had been holding him. "Denam knew the dangers of red lyrium. He murdered the Knight-Vigilant and corrupted his brothers and sisters."

Whispers and gasps emanated around the room. Denam kept his head up in a show of rebellion, Ellana's gaze unwavering. "I hope the Knight-Captain is lucid enough to understand what he's done." Ellana crossed an ankle over her knee, her fingers steepled as she balanced her elbows on the arms of her throne.

"I only did as I was told!" Denam growled.

"Enough with the lies!" Cullen silenced him, a hand cutting through the air. "We found everything while we were there. The corpse of the Knight-Vigilant, even papers proving you knew red lyrium was poison. In your time here, however, you have been cooperative—if reluctantly so—in aiding our hunt for your leader."

"As if I were given a choice," Denam sneered. "It was aid you or face pain beyond imagining. I said only what I needed to in order to survive."

More whispers passed through the hall. Cullen curled his lip. "Your want of lyrium is what loosened your tongue, nothing more."

Denam cackled. "And your want of your harlot is what keeps you here, obeying commands like a good dog." Cullen's hand went to his sword.

"Be silent, you foul man," Ellana hissed. "Everything you've revealed to us in your time here has been the truth. It is time you receive your due punishment."

"No!" Denam spit at her. "I demand justice! This is nothing, but a farce! You, your Inquisition, him—it means nothing! You have no authority here!"

"If you believe that, then the Order can judge you. They're the ones that suffered at your hands. They are the ones you betrayed," Ellana stated. "Let the remaining templars judge the man who failed them."

Denam began to look around the room, eyes wild as he searched for an escape. The soldiers grabbed him by the arms and began to drag him away. "The penalty will be death!"

"You demanded justice," Ellana called. "Now you shall have it. Wether that is death or exile is entirely up to your former brothers and sisters."

Denam thrashed against his restrainers. "I should have turned them all! Killed you when I had the chance you stupid b—"

The doors to the main hall slammed as he was dragged back to the dungeon. Murmuring broke out among the crowd as Cullen gave a nod to Ellana, stepping down to meet Barris, Henry and the other templars before they left the hall to follow after Denam. I did not know if they would truly kill the man, but the looks on several of their faces told me whatever they had in mind would not be pleasant. Next, we watched as Alexius was walked forward. He was not treated as roughly as he seemed willing to take whatever judgment Ellana passed. Josephine stepped up to the dais this time.

"Gereon Alexius of Tevinter," Josephine introduced the man. "Ferelden has given him to us as acknowledgment of your aid." Ellana gave a nod. Josephine turned to where Alexius was being brought forward. "The formal charges are apostasy, attempted enslavement, and attempted assassination—on your own life, no less." Ellana's eyes fell to Alexius, who kept his head lowered. "Tevinter has disowned him and stripped him of his rank. You may judge the former magister as you see fit. Though, I will remind Your Worship of his willingness to aid us in the pursuit of our enemy."

"Nearly ripping apart time is no small crime," Ellana stated. Murmuring broke out.

"All I care about is my son. I will do whatever you ask if only you allow me the chance to find a way to save him," Alexius pleaded. "Render your judgment, Inquisitor."

"The man I saw in the future you nearly brought about demanded the same thing before he gave his life to send me back to the present," Ellana admitted.

Alexius's head rose at those words. "You mean…it worked?"

"It did," Ellana nodded. "But in so doing, your son was corrupted beyond comprehension. The master you served used your love for your son to manipulate you. The 'cure' he offered was of a cruelty capable only by that of a monster." Alexius's head dropped. "The world he promised to restore was comprised of nightmares. There was no glory in any of it."

"I am sorry about what Denam said, my love," Cullen whispered in my ear, causing me to jump as I had not felt him beside me.

"It's alright," I whispered back. "He's a vile man. He made that clear enough by his display. Everyone will disregard what he said." Cullen laced his fingers through mine and squeezed my hand as we turned our attention back to Ellana.

Ellana seemed to contemplate her next words as she studied Alexius. "You swore to the mages you'd help them. I will have you uphold that promise," she stated.
"Ambassador Talitha and her attaché, Fiona, will take charge of you. Any knowledge, favor or coin you own will go towards the mages' future." Ellana rested her cheek on a fist as she leaned back.
"Beyond that, your magic was theoretically impossible, Alexius. As you serve the mages, you will also serve the Inquisition as a researcher on all things magical."

"Very well," Alexius gave a nod. Instead of the maddened thrashing Denam had given himself over to, Alexius walked willingly with his guards back out the main hall, the doors closing behind him.

The last prisoner was brought forth. Murmuring and gasps sounded as the Avvar chieftain passed through their midst. He looked around the room, a feral smirk on his bearded face through the paint that decorated his body.
He was a mountain of a man, standing head and shoulders above all the other humans in the room, his height nearing Bull and Asaala's. He wore a horned hood atop his head and nothing but a loincloth, fur vambraces and boots. He radiated a wildness, unpredictability, pride and power as he approached Ellana, unintimidated.

Josephine seemed ruffled by the man as he neared. "This was a surprise," she began as she turned to Ellana. "After you returned from the bogs of the Fallow Mire, we discovered this man attacking." Josephine gestured to the chieftain. "The building. With a…goat." Cullen let out a snort before covering it with a cough. I looked at him, a brow quirked.

He leaned to whisper in my ear. "You should have seen her face when I told her. He was literally throwing goats at the main gate."

"Goats? Whole goats?" I murmured.

Cullen chuckled, his breath tickling my ear, causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin. "He picked them up and threw them, shouting something in Avvar as he did. The animals were completely unfazed by it all."

"What in the Maker's name?" I questioned exasperatedly.

"Chief Movran the Under," Josephine introduced the man. "He feels slighted by the killing of his Avvar tribesman. Who repeatedly attacked you first. What should we do with him? Where…should he go?"

Ellana studied the man, her fierce mask had dropped just a bit at Josephine's explanation of his crime. "You answered the death of your clansmen…with a goat?"

Movran stalked towards the dais, laughing menacingly. His voice was deep and rich, speaking Common perfectly if accented. "A courtroom? Unnecessary. You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as is my custom, by smacking your holdings with goat's blood." Movran stepped back, looking about the room as if simultaneously fascinated and unimpressed by it all.

Ellana looked to Josephine who shook her head. "Don't look at me."

Movran spoke again. "No foul," he assured. "He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with your Inquisition. A redheaded mother guarantees a brat!" Movran took a single step forward.
"Do as you've earned, Inquisitor. My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads!" Movran issued a booming laugh.

Ellana's lips twisted into a smirk. "Chief Movran, I believe we've the beginnings of a cultural exchange in this accidental conflict. I know just the envoy. In recompense for this unintended slight, I demand you educate one of our lords in your ways.
"His name is Abernache. He will struggle, but he could use someone like you to teach him the meaning of honor and dignity, while we could use more knowledge and a possible alliance with your people."

"Inquisitor?!" Abernache's voice called from within the room. "Surely, you jest!"

"I do not," Ellana shook her head, her eyes finding the man in the crowd. "I have not forgotten the way you coward in a corner at Therinfal after attempting to throw around your title and power to subject the templars to your rule. Yet, you acknowledged your poor conduct and wished to keep our accord. I allowed it, but this is my price.
"You are a man of nobility, yet you do not seem to understand what that privilege should entail. This man has honored his people despite knowing his son was in the wrong. You both could learn something of the other and in so doing, you will make up for your poor beginnings Lord Abernache."

"I…yes, Inquisitor," Abernache bowed.

Movran boomed another laugh. "I'm renaming my youngest 'Herald'. He's another redhead!" Movran's guard unlocked his chains before leading him out the main hall, Movran laughing the whole way. "We should join the lowlanders more often!"

As the judgements ended, the people began to disperse, but Cullen kept his hand entwined with mine as we watched the others file out. "I've something to show you," he whispered.

"I told Mahanon to find the clan and bring Deshanna here," I murmured.

Cullen's face turned serious. "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded. "In my spar with you, I ran out of mana so quickly. How am I to lead my troops when I can barely wield my magic?"

"You give yourself too little credit. You wield your magic wonderfully, but you know I will support you, whatever you decide," Cullen assured, his eyes finding mine briefly. "I just want you to be sure you are doing this for you. It is you she betrayed. We can find another way."

"We can't, Cullen," I shook my head. "I have to do this."

Cullen pulled me out the door leading to the garden, pressing me against it once it was closed. I met his eyes, they were fierce and held worry. "You do not have to put on a brave face for me, Meira. Ever."

Tears welled in my eyes. "Why does the Maker keep asking this of me? With each challenge I overcome, there awaits another one." I let out a shaky breath. "I do not doubt the love of the Maker. I do not doubt that this is happening for a reason, but..." You're wrong. There is no reason."I'm so tired, Cullen."

He put a hand on my cheek. "'I have faced armies with You as my shield, and though I bear scars beyond counting, nothing can break me except Your absence'." He kissed my nose. "Faith untested is nothing."

I leaned into his touch. "I know, Cullen. I just think the Maker believes me capable of more than I am."

Cullen chuckled. "I think I know how you feel." At his sarcasm, I laughed. He laughed too before peppering my face with kisses.
"It will be alright, love. You are stronger than you realize and I have no doubt you can rise to every challenge that comes your way—ordained and not."

"As can you, my lion," I murmured as he kissed the corner of my mouth.

Taking my hand again, he led me back through the hall, through the rotunda and to his office. We stopped briefly, he attacking me with affections as I laughed before he led me out the side door and down the stone steps to the stable. Walking me inside, we found Dennet checking over the animals in the now full stalls.

"Our mounts arrived," Cullen explained. "I…took the liberty of selecting one for you." Leading me to where Dennet stood, his mabari standing with him, I found a beautiful horse standing within the stall.
"Beautiful, isn't she? Dappled grey, fourteen hands and as sweet tempered as can be, but Dennet has proven her brave in the face of danger. I thought you would appreciate something on the smaller side and she's got a gait as smooth as silk. She'll suit you well for travel and won't throw you."

"What do ya think?" Dennet questioned.

"She's beautiful," I murmured as I reached out to her. Her velvety nose nuzzled my palm, sniffing in search of treats. Cullen took my hand and placed a sugar cube in my palm. The mare greedily took the cube.

"Your man's got a good eye, woulda made a fine stablehand in another life."

"Could you imagine that, Commander? Working with Dennet instead of with the troops?" I questioned.

Cullen snorted. "It'd probably be far less troublesome, but I'll stick with the two-legged headaches." I chuckled, continuing to pet the mare. I could feel Cullen's gaze on me, a light pressure on my low back where his hand rested.

"Buckling under the weight of all that is on her mind. Maker, what can I do for her?" Cole's voice spoke as he appeared, his eyes on me. Dennet swore under his breath and nearly ran out the stable.
"Soon to be gone. Heart twisting, gut clenching, hands already aching to hold her. Please, please be safe. The wolf will protect her. They will protect her. Maker, please bring her back to me. How do I make her happy?" I looked to Cullen who's ears had gone red.
Cole looked to Cullen. "Maker, watch over him while I'm away. Breath leaves her lungs when amber eyes meet jade; heart pounding, knees weak when he kisses her. Warm, strong, and steady in the midst of the ice storm raging in her chest. But fear trickles down her spine: 'I can endure it'. Andraste, give him the strength. He's so much stronger than he knows. Help him break his chains."
Cole looked back to me, his watery eyes meeting my gaze from beneath his wispy hair. "Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet. Stronger when you hold him." I looked to Cullen, who's eyes had gone incredibly soft despite the blush on his face. "The chains rattle, screams echoing, the song growing louder, but when you're in his arms, all else quiets as he listens to your song."
Cole began fiddling with a tiny, stuffed nug he held. "He wants to be free, but he's afraid to want. It was wanting that they wielded against him. Is it selfish? What am I without it?" Cole met my eyes again. "I'm glad you help him." At that, the boy disappeared.

We stared at each other for a moment before our lips crashed together. Fingers in his hair, his hands pulling me closer to him, all the armor between us irritating me. He pulled away, panting a little. "Perhaps…I've been too hard on the boy," he murmured as he caressed my nose.

I chuckled, a bit breathless. "He only wants to help, Cullen. He particularly wants to help you, but he's respected your wish for him to stay away."

"I know," Cullen sighed. "It is…hard to trust him."

I held his facd in my hands. "Then trust me."

His amber eyes met my gaze. "I do."

I pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "Thank you," I murmured, then chuckled, "For the horse."

He laughed. "You're welcome. Perhaps we could go for a ride?"

"I'm afraid not, Commander," Sela's voice spoke behind us. "You're not shirking etiquette lessons anymore. Lady Josephine will have me killed if I cover for you again."

Cullen groaned. "Maker's breath."

"Come on, Commander," I took his hand. "It'll be fun."

"I can guarantee that it will not be," he grumbled.

—

He was right, it truly wasn't. We were down below the main hall in a spacious room with stone columns and statues. Josephine and Vivienne were trying to cram so much knowledge into our heads, I thought mine would explode. All the ways you could offend an Orlesian made me fear the thought of even breathing in the Winter Palace. Then the rules for eating—why does one person need so many forks?
The only enjoyment I got out of the whole ordeal was watching Cullen get surlier and surlier through the whole thing until he was practically an overgrown mabari growling at everything and everyone. This seemed to earn Vivienne's special attention as she dug her claws into him.
Pulling him from his chosen spot where he was attempting to become one with the stone wall—Blackwall at his side—she demanded he come stand before us all. Fearing she'd turn him into something if he didn't, he stomped his way to stand before us all. Vivienne circled him like a vulture, picking him apart. His bad posture, poor grooming habits, and ill temper.

"My dear, you really must let my attendants have a look at you. They could work wonders," Vivienne chided.

"I second that idea," Dorian called. "I have numerous bits of advice I'd happily share."

"He's already pretty enough," Varric's gravelly voice spoke up. "Now that Iris got him a decent wardrobe, he'll be fine. Just have to convince him to wear clothes instead of armor."

"Will you all leave him be?" Cassandra growled. "He is fine."

"We know he's fine," Dorian grinned like a cat. "We just know he could be finer. We're only trying to help, poor Fereldan pup that he is. He simply doesn't know any better. We'd have him dazzle little Talitha."

"Oh, leave Cully-Wully alone. Pretty sure Princess doesn't care what he looks like when he's b—" Sera defended him.

"—That's quite enough, Sera," Vivienne cut her off.

"You're no fun," Sera pouted.

"Heads turn as he passes, eyes on the report in his hand, mind on his duty and the one he loves. Dozens cry out that he would notice them, but he only has eyes for her," Cole murmured as he played with the silverware. "And she wouldn't change a thing about him."

I blushed as all eyes fell on me. "Well…I wouldn't." My gaze flicked to Cullen.

"I fear we've gotten off course," Josephine called.

"That we have, my dear. Thank you for indulging us, Commander, you may resume your sulking," Vivienne dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
"I've made arrangements for us all to stay in the High Quarter of Halamshiral for the week prior to the masquerade at the Winter Palace. All of my attendants from the Ghislain Estate will come to assist me during that time to ensure you are all properly groomed, final fittings seen to and any last minute preparations completed. Let us hope it will be enough time to properly prepare you vulgarians."

"Did she just insult us?" Sera questioned. "I think she just insulted us."

"No, just you," Dorian stated. "One could hardly label me a 'vulgarian'. I thought we were better friends than that, Lady Vivienne."

Vivienne gave a cold smile. "While you far exceed our peers, my dear, you've still a long way to go to compare to me."

Dorian splayed his fingers over his heart. "You wound me!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're both pretty, we get it," Bull growled. "When are we going to get to see what we're wearing?"

"I'm afraid there's been a setback on that front," Josephine stated, her sweet face growing irritated.

"We'll have that ballroom eating out of the palms of our hands," Ellana assured.

"I must say, I'm rather looking forward to the affair," Solas stated. "Though it seems I am in the minority."

"I'd rather be anywhere, but a ballroom," Blackwall huffed. "Even the Deep Roads sounds more exciting than this."

"And perhaps less dangerous," Solas chuckled.

"Deep underground with thousands of bloodthirsty darkspawn? Give me a ball where a single glance could mean social suicide any day," Varric stated.

"Perhaps Blackwall and I should head up a party to search the Deep Roads?" Cullen offered. "We could hunt for Corypheus while you deal with the Empress."

"I rather like the sound of that," Blackwall nodded.

"Enough, gentlemen," Josephine scolded. "You are going and for your resistance, you two get to start off the dancing lessons."

"What?" Cullen paled at the same time Blackwall did.

"You heard me," Josephine warned. "Dance."

"To-together?" Cullen stammered.

"Dancing is hardly shared by only the different sexes, Commander," Vivienne chastised. I could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "Men dance with men. Women dance with women. Men and women dance together. This is Orlais."

Neither man made to move away from the wall. "I am telling you right now, I may be attending this masquerade, but I am not dancing with anyone." Cullen looked livid.

Vivienne flashed him a cruel smile. "If it means the difference between gaining and losing the Court's approval, my dear, I dare say you will. Now, gentlemen, front and center."

Cullen and Blackwall exchanged a glance. "If we don't do it, they'll find another way to punish us. Might as well die like men," Blackwall offered Cullen his hand.

"Maker's breath," Cullen swore as he put his hand in Blackwall's, his face as red as I'd ever seen it.

"Good boys," Vivienne goaded, earning a murderous glare from Cullen.

Vivienne instructed them in where to properly place their hands, earning a blush from both men and snickering from the rest of us. I tried not to laugh as I could tell this was humiliating for Cullen. Just as Blackwall had suggested, however, the two of them faced the challenge like soldiers charging into battle with nothing to lose. Both with grim faces of resignation as they went about the room.

"Now the rest of you, pair off," Vivienne instructed.

To my relief, Ellana took my hand so we could dance together. "You'll have to apologize to Cullen for me. That was a little cruel."

I chuckled. "I will."

"And know that I do not expect him to do anything he's uncomfortable with at the palace," she lowered her voice. "No matter what Josie or Vivienne say."

"Thank you, but you should tell him that," I whispered back.

"Don't worry, I will."

We continued to dance, Josephine and Vivienne checking our postures, hand placements and movements. Then they'd order us to switch. We switched partners every time, but Cullen and I were never partnered. When it seemed Cullen and I would finally be able to dance together, his hand reaching out to me, Vivienne called the lesson to an end. Her dark eyes on the two of us, I had no doubt that she'd done it on purpose. The others leaving, Dorian approached us.

"You promised me a game of chess after this, Commander," Dorian reminded Cullen.

"That I did," Cullen nodded. "While I'd rather hit something at the moment, chess may at least help me…never mind. I had the board setup on the pavilion in the garden."

"Very good, I will meet you there," Dorian bowed.

When Dorian left, Cullen gave me the most dramatic scowl I'd ever seen and I began laughing. "I'm so sorry."

"No, you're not," he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes, I am," I giggled. "You looked absolutely miserable."

"The last person I expected to dance with was Blackwall," he grumbled.

"I thought you complimented each other well," I offered.

"You are cruel, my darling," he mumbled.

"You did! You looked like two soldiers going into battle to die fighting," I smiled. "It was quite the sight to behold."

"Maker's breath," he swore. "I'm going to go decimate Dorian in chess now in an attempt to win back some dignity and pride."

"You do that," I kissed his cheek.

"Actually," he scratched the back of his neck. "Would you care for a game? We could play after I finish my game with Dorian."

"I would like that," I smiled. "I will meet you in the garden in a bit. I want to grab something first."

He gave a shy smile before I left him. I made my way up to my room to change out of my armor and collect the price of my side of the bet. Opening the door and ascending the stairs, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I found someone sitting at the desk.
Bearing a striking resemblance to Bethany in her full mouth and raven hair, the first difference I noticed was her catlike, blue eyes that were the same shade of blue as lyrium. Those eyes followed me like a predator watching its prey as I approached her. Her booted feet were propped up on my desk while she played with a dagger in her hands.

"So, it is true," she murmured.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Marian Hawke," she stated. "I've been keeping to myself to avoid a fuss, but when Varric let it slip...when Cullen tried to lie to me...I put the pieces together." Her boots hit the floor as she stood to her full height. Spinning her dagger in her hand as she came to stand before me, she looked me over.
"Hello, Neria." I said nothing. "No need to deny it. It was obvious once I put the pieces together. Besides the only thing different about you is the color of your hair and, of course, your missing brand. Now that is a mystery." She began to circle me.
"I saw your fight with Cullen in the courtyard. It was rather impressive, not to mention the sexual tension between the two of you was nearly palpable. Before that, your rather heated kiss on the battlements. I knew he couldn't have fallen so hard for just anyone. Not when he made it so clear how devoted to you he was when I tried to kiss him." She came to my front when she said this, watching for my reaction.

Unfazed by this revelation, I bared my teeth in a smile. "I gathered you and Cullen had a flirtatious relationship from Varric's book. Seeing the kind of man he is, I can hardly blame you for wanting him." I met her stare, unyielding. "Cullen admitted as much when we talked about his time in Kirkwall."

Hawke narrowed her eyes. "You're still trying to deny that you're her?"

"Her who?" I raised a brow.

Hawke's mouth twisted into a smirk. "You're a better liar than Cullen, I'll give you that. Why the secrecy? He tried to tell me you died." I crossed my arms over my chest, but said nothing. Hawke's icy demeanor dropped.
"Look, I'm happy for him, alright? For you as well. I'm just tired of getting crapped on by the Maker and I'd hoped...I don't know why you're hiding your true identity, but I would never reveal something like that, whatever the reason may be."

"I'm sorry you've had a difficult life, Hawke, truly. I pray the Maker brings you happiness," I offered.

Hawke snorted. "If happiness ever did find its way to me, I doubt it'd be from the Maker. I've offended him too much."

"That isn't true, Hawke. Andraste intercedes on our behalf, all we half to do is cry out to her," I stated.

Her eyes glanced over me. "No wonder he's head over heels for you. All you've been through and you're still a believer. If nothing else, Cullen is a man of faith, even with all he witnessed."

"Faith untested is nothing."

"That's what you think Alrik's torture was? A test?" Hawke raised a brow. "That was no test. That was cruelty of the utmost kind and evidence that the Maker does not care for his children." Finally, someone who speaks the truth.

"If that is what you believe of the Maker, then I am sorry you feel that way," I stated.

"You are convincing, but I am all the more assured you are Neria," Hawke shook her head. "For what it's worth, I am glad you are no longer Tranquil and that you two found each other again."

"For what it's worth, Hawke, I will pray for you," I inclined my head.

"I doubt it'll do any good, but thank you," she began to descend the stairs, but stopped. "Thank you also for being a friend to Bethany."

Watching as she disappeared, I quickly removed my armor. Donning a simple blouse and floor-length velvet skirt, I grabbed the boxes before hurrying to the garden. The sun was low in the sky when I exited the castle, evening soon to be upon us as I made my way through the garden to the pavilion that was tucked away behind some trees.

"Gloat all you like," Cullen's voice goaded. "I have this one."

I found the two men at it, the chess board between them. Cullen was leaning forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled, his eyes intense, but his face relaxed. Dorian looked as confident as ever, legs crossed as he awaited Cullen's move.

"Are you...sassing me, Commander?" Dorian questioned, laughter in his voice. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Cullen's face twisted into a scowl as he moved his next piece. "Why do I even—" He must have caught me in his peripheral as his head jerked my way before he began to rise from his chair. "—Talitha."

"Leaving, are you?" Dorian questioned. "Does this mean I win?"

Cullen sat back down, adjusting himself in the seat as I came to stand near them. "Are you two playing nice?"

Dorian winked at me. "I'm always nice."

Cullen steepled his fingers again. "Alright, your move."

Dorian shifted forward. "You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory." He picked up a piece and moved it. "You'll feel much better."

Cullen got a smug smirk on his face. "Really?" He sassed as he moved his own piece. "Because I just won. And I feel fine." He leaned back, most please with himself as he'd lured Dorian into an inescapable trap.

Dorian threw his hands up. "Don't get smug," he warned as he made to stand. "There will be no living with you." Dorian gave me a knowing smile at the words. "Same time tomorrow?"

Cullen nodded. "Perhaps try a different tactic from cheating?"

Dorian chuckled. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

Cullen's eyes met mine, taking in the boxes in my arms with a quirked brow. "What are those?"

"Beat me in chess and you'll find out," I challenged.

He smirked. "Very well."

Quickly, he reset the pieces and I took Dorian's seat. We made our first moves. "Hawke came to see me."

His head snapped up. "What?"

"She was...in my room when I went to change," I explained. "She seems the sort that can become invisible when she wants to."

I saw his jaw clench. "What did she say?"

"That she was happy for us," I murmured. That seemed to surprise him. I made another move. "She seems like a very sad woman, Cullen."

His face softened. He made his own move, seeming to be playing seriously this time. "Her time in Kirkwall was full of strife, misery and woe. Yet, through it all she remained optimistic. Now...I think her armor is finally cracking to reveal the Hawke that was underneath all along. I hope...I hope she can find happiness."

"As do I," I nodded agreement. We took several turns, each of us playing to win.

"I know I should not ask this," Cullen stated, "But...please be careful while you are away. I know the battalion will be ready, I know you are ready, but...the Red Templars are not an enemy to be taken lightly."

"Did you speak with Asaala and the others?" I questioned.

He grimaced. "I did."

"You seem unhappy with their decision," I observed.

"I do not understand why they are choosing this path, especially after all we've seen of the Order," Cullen sighed. "I understand their desire to protect people. To have the power to protect people from evil and to set an example. I cannot fault them for feeling as I did. As I still do, but...this is not decision for them to make lightly."

He took a few of my pieces. I took one of his. "But they wanted to speak with you before undertaking the ordeal, surely that shows they are not making the decision lightly. I am still...utterly shocked by Laren. We haven't spoken much, but...for her to become a templar—she is turning her back on everything she was ever raised to believe."

His amber eyes flicked up to me. "She said you were her inspiration for taking this path."

My brows shot up in surprise. "She...she said that?"

He nodded. "To know what you've suffered and to still believe in the Order...she wanted to become the kind of templar you envision. She wants to be able to serve under you in the hopes of getting to know you. She feels unworthy of being called your sister at the moment."

"I...don't know what to say to that," I murmured.

Cullen chuckled breathily. "She is surprisingly blunt and I didn't know what to say to it either, but I respect it."

"Tell me, what is it like to wield your abilities?" I questioned. "To take lyrium as you did?" I watched Cullen swallow thickly, his hand stopping in midair for just a moment, it shaking as it hovered over a piece. "I'm sorry...I should not have asked that."

He recovered after a moment. "No, it's...alright." He made his move before speaking. "It's...strange, but after a while...your abilities become instinct. You wield them as you would a sword. Without thought."

"That sounds rather like how I wield my magic," I stated, moving my own piece. He was going to win, but I was fine with that.

He looked at me at my words. "No. Templar abilities are not magic. You draw on the lyrium in your blood and your training—not some innate ability."

I cocked my head at him, smirking. "You're sure it feels different? How do you know?"

"I just...do," he muttered.

"Oh, you 'just do'?" I mocked, lightheartedly. "Tell me, Commander, have you ever wondered if we might not be so very different?"

Cullen clenched his jaw. "What would that mean, if it were true? Would that not be another sin I've committed, then? That I wielded magic to oppress magic? What kind of monster would that make me?"

"Cullen," I breathed. "Why would it make you a monster? Oppression is wrong no matter what form it takes."

"I know that M-Talitha, but can you not see the hypocrisy in that if that were the truth? I was a templar-sworn to serve the Maker and protect people from dark magic." His lip curled, his nose scrunching. "We are told from day one of our templar training that mages are the enemy-not just maleficars, all mages. That mages are dangerous. That magic is dangerous, a curse and affront to the Maker. They don't say it outright, but it's there.
"If we, in turn, used magic to fight magic...If I used magic to capture, to subdue, to render mages powerless, even mages who had done no real wrong beyond fleeing the Circle, justifying it in the name of the greater good...in the name of protecting the innocent...How is that not hypocrisy of the acutest kind? How is that not a sin?" He was silent for a long moment, glaring at the board. "How am I any different than any mage who has wielded magic against others in the name of their greater good?"

"Cullen, I do not know if your abilities are magic, I only meant that your description of how you wield your abilities sounded similar," I stated, causing him to look at me. "And is it your sin or the Order's? The Chantry's? You told me once that you believed the Maker created me-created mages-and blessed us with magic to serve. That the Maker did not mean for us to be feared just because we are born with magic. You believed it was man who twisted Andraste's words and chose to sow fear-fear because of what mages could be and because they do not understand us." I studied his face, his expression softening to one of shame and wistfulness.
"Then everything happened and you saw the evil side of magic. I can hardly blame you for believing in the Order all the more because of it. It is because I know what my fellow mages are capable of-those that willingly choose evil magic-that I believe in the Order, it just needs change."

After a few heartbeats he spoke again. "I always wanted to be a templar," he murmured, looking away, "to protect people. After Ferelden, I served out of fear...and because I was compelled. I thought if I removed the part that kept me chained, if I stopped taking lyrium, I would find my own purpose again. But...if what you say is true...if I truly did wield magic to..." He grew angry again.
"Once your sacrifices are made, is there no end to them? Are you leashed until the day you die? Forever haunted by what you did-and didn't do-in the name of duty?" He sounded defeated in the last question and my heart twisted with worry.

"Do you think templars should cease to exist?"

He hesitated in answering. "No," his voice adamant when he finally spoke. "I may have chosen to leave that life, but I respect those who remain. I respect those who remember what it is supposed to mean to be a templar. To serve and protect, but it should be to serve and protect everyone, even mages; not everyone from mages."

"Then why are you so opposed to Asaala, Laren and Amelia becoming templars?"

"I am not opposed to them becoming templars, I am opposed to their taking lyrium," he clarified as he returned to the game, moving a piece.

"Why?" I made my own move.

He sighed and scowled. "Templars can lose their memories to lyrium. Some call it a gift—to forget the failed Harrowings, the demons. Perhaps that is, in part, why some become addicted to it." He looked me straight in the eyes. "Some atrocities haunt me still. But to lose what good I can recall...It is no gift." I sat stunned.
Everything he's dealing with...would he be free of the suffering if he resumed taking lyrium? Would he be free of his nightmares? Is that the tradeoff-take lyrium and gain powers along with the ability to forget, but stop taking it and not only do you suffer physically, but possibly mentally as well? No wonder it is addictive. And how strong he must be to continue foregoing it.
"But I do not know how we have one without the other. My efforts to...prove it possible have been futile and magic ungoverned could tear the world apart. The Breach is evidence enough. Templars are trained and able to confront such dangers."

"Then you must keep trying," I prodded.

"It is why I still do, as frustrating as it is becoming," he growled. "I know the choice I've made, but there must be a safer way for templars to leave."

"If you don't mind my asking...why did you stop?"

"I...I felt I had no control over my own life anymore," he admitted. "I obeyed Meredith. Blindly. Not only because of my anger, which she encouraged, but also because I never thought to question her."

"Why?" I questioned.

"After the Ferelden Circle, I thought all mages were like...them; just waiting for the opportunity to rebel, to use blood magic," Cullen admitted. "Meredith's methods were harsh, but they kept people safe."

"You've said Meredith was unstable?"

"She was my Knight-Commander. I had no reason to distrust her beyond what I believed was baseless gossip. She wasn't wrong about the blood mages in Kirkwall either." He made his move before sighing deeply. "Meredith encouraged my anger towards the mages. But there was only so far I would go, and she knew that too. I was her second in command, but she kept decisions from me—those she knew I would question.
"How could I question orders I knew nothing about? Why would I doubt her when everything I witnessed told me she was serving the Maker and the city? That she was right? Why would I disobey when I was compelled not to by both lyrium and indoctrination? Why would I dig for answers at the risk of being cut off from lyrium and suffering the pain? So I did nothing. I didn't question. Not until it was too late."

"You can't control everything," I murmured. "You stood up to her in the end."

His eyes met mine. "And if I hadn't would I be like her now? I wanted mages locked away as much as she did." Oh, Cullen. "The way I saw mages...I'm not sure I would have cared about you and the thought of that...sickens me." He looked away, guilt on his face.
"I trusted they were treated reasonably well, but I should have done more. I should have looked into it." He sighed. "That is why I stopped taking it—at least, in part—but it is not yet enough. The Inquisition is my chance to atone. I will see it through."

"The Inquisition won't last forever," I murmured. "What will you do once this is over?"

His face went soft as he gazed at me. "To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought until recently. I'm not used to having so many...possibilities." I blushed. "Speaking of possibilities," he stated as he made his final move to win the game, "Could I possibly learn what is in those boxes as this game is mine?"

I threw my hands up. "It seems luck favored you today."

He gave me a smirk, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. "You wish it was only luck. My love, you are truly dreadful at this."

"Or perhaps I threw the game? Don't think I couldn't tell you were drawing it out," I chastised.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," he smirked, light coming back into his gaze. "Now enough stalling."

"Very well," I let out a breath, fighting down the laugh growing in my chest. "I know what I want for my end of the bargain." I scooped up the top box.

"What is that?" He quirked a brow.

I removed the lid and lifted out what was inside. "I want you to wear this for the next week whenever you're sporting your armor, my lion." Cullen's smugness evaporated as I held out the helm fashioned to look like a lion roaring. I'd commissioned it as a joke, his real helm in the other box.

"You cannot be serious," he gaped at the helm. "Lions are an Orlesian symbol. Not Fereldan."

I laughed. "Then be glad I'm not asking you to wear it to the Winter Palace."

"Maker's breath," he swore as he took the helm. "You know I will hear no end of this from the soldiers, yes?" He glared into the open maw. "I asked for something romantic and you ask me to humiliate myself." His eyes flashed up at me, a smirk pulling his mouth. "Next time, I will not be so kind."

I flashed him a wicked smile. "I look forward to it. But, my dear Commander, how do you know that this isn't romantic for me? After all, I do call you 'my lion'." He went scarlet before putting the helm on and I had to admit it was rather attractive on him, if intimidating. "It suits you."

I heard him huff out a breath. "And the other box?" His voice now sounded tinny as he spoke.

I smiled at him, producing the helm fashioned after a mabari. "Is this one more suitable?"

"Love, it's perfect," he grabbed it, turning to admire the fierceness Harrit had etched into it.

"I thought you'd like it."

—

The week passed in much the same fashion, though filled with teasing thrown at Cullen as he had to wear his new helm. True to his word, whenever he was in armor, he wore it. It was a source of joy for me, despite the affect it had on his already bad temper.
A much needed source of joy as I had begun dreaming about the temple I'd witnessed upon touching the shard on Solas's desk. He was certain it was the same temple Scout Harding and her team had found in the Approach and he was determined to go there, wanting me along once I met them in the Dales.
As I dreamt, that dark voice grew nearer and nearer, Purpose not too far behind, but I was able to force myself awake now with Solas's training. I never let either get too close, not ready to speak with Purpose and too afraid of the entity to face it again.
Cullen could tell something was bothering me and I could tell his symptoms were worsening. Yet, on we both fought in our fights. I tried to explain what was happening, but could not put it into words that allowed him to understand. I simply told him it was something that was both part of me and not. That it was weighing on me and stirring up doubt. The sooner I faced it the better, but until Deshanna arrived, I could do nothing.
Solas had an idea of how to provide temporary relief, but he did not want to attempt it until we knew what removing the blood magic would do. Instead, I focused on training the battalion and spending as much time with Cullen as possible before we were to be apart for Maker only knew how long.
We walked the battlements, ate meals, played chess and went on horseback rides to check the progress on the nearly completed village. We trained, met with Barris, Henry and Fiona, shared quick greetings when we passed each other as we went about our days. We'd even begun spending time with my family when we could, though Cullen usually stayed for only brief moments. I, however, began opening myself up to them little by little, finding the old wounds were finally beginning to heal as we worked through our issues.
Word arrived two days before we were set to leave that Mahanon would return with Deshanna in tow the following day, the clan to camp in the valley below at a distance from our troops. Nerves stirred in my gut along with anger at the thought of seeing her again. Ellana and Da swore they would stay at my side the entire time, as did Cullen, Solas and Dorian.
A distraction came in the form of the tavern finally being ready after several delays. I was in Cullen's tower, reading over requisitions when Sela announced that all were being called to the upper courtyard. I noticed Cullen wince as he stood, placing his hand on the top of his desk as he steadied himself a moment. He'd been working even harder to get the battalion and troops prepped to leave, fretting over every detail, even fussing over Rylen like a mother hen as he was to lead the platoon being sent with Ellana due to its size.

"Are you alright?" I questioned.

"It'll pass," he said through gritted teeth.

I stood and made my way over to him. He was pale, shaking and sweaty. I took my handkerchief from my pocket and blotted his brow. He'd gotten out of wearing the lion helm by ensuring that he was not always in his armor. He now stood in woolen trousers, a cotton shirt, and the fur-lined jacket he favored.
I'd had to help him shave again as his hands were even more unsteady, the only time they were still was when he held his sword and shield. Even writing had become difficult for him, so I helped when I could. I'd noticed more and more his hand stuck in his pocket, fiddling with something as it seemed to relax him.

"Thank you," he breathed.

"Of course," I murmured.

Suddenly, he pulled me into an embrace, his arms like a vice around me. "Maker, I don't want to let you go."

I encircled my arms around him. "I will be back before you know it."

"Each day until then will be agony," he murmured.

"Oh, come now, you'll have James to keep you company," I reminded him.

Cullen groaned. "That is not helping."

I pulled away from him to stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. He took my face in his hands and kissed me fervently before pulling away. That dark voice hissing. "Come on, or they'll be wondering where we are," he took my hand and we headed towards the tavern.

Coming to stand amongst the crowd, the sunset gleaming off the windows, we caught the end of Josephine's speech. The Ambassador then gestured to the traveling minstrel, Maryden, who held a plaque in her hands. "A place for all in service here, to rest, recoup, and persevere. Though weighs the heart, remember best, your saving grace, the Herald's Rest."

Cheers broke out as soldiers unveiled the tavern's sign depicting Ellana, the Anchor gleaming, held in Andraste's arms. That should be you. They should be cheering for you. Josephine handed Ellana the key and we all watched as Ellana unlocked and entered the tavern's main door.
A moment passed before she called for everyone to join her inside. We'd had the tavern stocked, a bartender hired, food prepared and Maryden, was already playing music beside the large fireplace. Room had been left to permit dancing, but all around the center and the floor above were tables for people to eat, drink and rest. People flooded in, grabbing tables, surrounding the bar, the tavern workers taking food orders. Cullen began to pull me up the stairs, but we were foiled from escaping the merriment.

"Curly! Iris! Come join us," Varric called from the largest table.

Cullen and I exchanged a glance. "You know he won't let us refuse," I murmured.

"Maker's breath, just when I thought...never mind," Cullen growled. "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, you never know, you may enjoy yourself," I purred.

"I was hoping to have you spend time with some of our people, not your sister's," Cullen whispered. "Perhaps we can make some excuse after polite conversation?"

Varric's russet eyes twinkled at us as we approached. The rest of the inner circle was present, including Henry and Elizabeth, only Vivienne and Solas were absent. We took our seats, forcibly separated as the only available chairs were apart from each other.
I was sat between Cole and Dorian while Cullen had to sit between Bull and Cassandra. An ale was passed to Cullen who scooped it up and began to drink. Stories were swapped, laughter earned, and even Cullen joined in here and there. Then Maryden began playing a slow song causing couples to stand and begin to dance with one another. I caught Cullen's eye, my heart fluttering.

"Find me still searching for someone to lead me. Can you guide me to the revolt inside me? Promise surviving the Breach. Promise surviving the Breach in the sky," Maryden sang.

Cullen stood, his eyes not leaving mine as he slowly made his way over to me. My heart began pounding in earnest at the virility exuding off of him.

"Templar igniting fire inside me."

I stood to meet him, but found another pair of arms sweeping me away. "Really? On 'templar igniting fire inside me' you were going to dance with him?" Solana's voice chided. "I think not."

"Sol? What are you doing here? I thought you were working with Dagna?"

"I was, but we knew there was a party going on and we didn't want to miss it, especially when we're all to be leaving shortly." Solana gave a wicked smile. "Then I saw your man looking so intent upon dancing with you that I had to ruin his moment."

I looked to where Cullen was standing, looking like a wounded pup. "That was a little cruel, Sol."

"Oh, he's all but hogged you these last few days," she rolled her eyes. "I've so much to tell you about what Dagna and I have found while studying the dragon."

We continued to dance, Cullen being dragged into a game of Wicked Grace, and Solana filled me in on some of their discoveries. Dragon hide could protect a person from fire of any kind. Dragon bone made for excellent staff material. Dragon's blood could be used to make all manner of magical items.
I listened as she spoke, naming off ideas she and Dagna had to implement into the army and battalion, but I was only half invested. My mind and eye kept traveling to where Cullen now sat, growing increasingly frustrated with the game he was being forced to play. Maryden continued to sing in the background.
Merriment went on all around and suddenly I found myself overwhelmed by it all. Sounds became too loud, the light too bright, the air too hot and my skin so sensitive I felt as if it were moving. I wanted to run, to scream, but I suddenly felt frozen in place. Solana noticed the change in me and let me go. I watched her mouth moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. My heart was pounding, my breathing becoming ragged and I knew I had to run.

"I need a minute," I breathed. I ran out to the courtyard, Ghilani stirring from where she had laid outside the tavern to follow me as I gulped in air. I went to the back of the tavern, nausea rising, and vomited upon the ground. You cannot ignore me forever. I will be free.

I gulped down more air, my body shaking as if terrified. Maker, help me. Then I felt an explosion of pain against my skull before I fell to the ground. I heard Ghilani growl. Someone crouched over me, grabbing me by the hair. "I'll teach you to make a fool of me, robe."

I tried to stand, arms shaking, head pounding. I tried to summon my magic, feeling the ice in my palms, but just as I did, a smite hit me. I tried to center myself, to keep hold of my connection to the Fade, but it slipped from me and I collapsed back upon the ground as fists and boots began raining down upon my body. I heard Ghilani snapping and snarling until I heard her yelp in pain, her body crumpling against mine.

"The Knight-Captain might've gone soft, but we remember. We remember what happened in Kirkwall," the templar that had hit me initially snarled in my ear. "I stayed quiet and watched for Samson, to keep him abreast of what was happening here, but your arrogance was a slight I could not let stand. We should have slaughtered you all while we had the chance or followed Alrik's plan, made you all Tranquil—at least that way we'd be able to still get something out of you."

Fear and rage boiled in my gut as I recognized that voice. Karras. He'd been an acolyte of Alrik's, occasionally visiting the cells, but never to do what Alrik did. Instead, the sadistic psychopath delighted in torturing us physically. Beating us, burning us, all the things Alrik took no real pleasure from, Karras did.
He'd visited me only once, early in my captivity to beat me into submission. Kill him. Kill him! Tear him apart. I wanted to, I wanted to rip him limb from limb. I fed that rage in my gut, fed it until I felt the Fade begin to open. Meira, don't! Don't! You'll let her out! It was Purpose.
I didn't care. Karras was as close to Alrik as I would ever get and I was going to rip his throat out with my teeth if I had to. I was going to drive Cullen's dagger into his—Cullen. Cullen could help. No. Handle this yourself. You don't need him. Kill this monster. Kill him! I began to rise, magic pulsing out from me, covering me in a barrier causing their hits to feel like no more than wind against my skin.

"What the—" My eyes found Karras, his face revealed as he'd removed his helmet.

Those empty, dark eyes stared hatefully at me. As did all the others as I looked around to find several of the templars that had been in the battalion, the ones that normally caused disputes, surrounding me. They'd removed their armor, no doubt to reduce the amount of noise they made as I saw Denam was with them.
I let that rage burn. They had been spies. For Samson. Right under our noses. How did we miss this?

"Hello, Lieutenant," Denam smiled. "Surprised to see me? Those idiot templars decided to let me live, intending to exile me. They should've killed me when they had the chance. I'm glad to see you're going to give us a challenge."

"Why are you taking the time to attack me instead of escaping?" I demanded, jaw hurting as I spoke. I kept my rage in check, I needed information.

"A message from Samson to Commander Cullen," Denam explained before his eyes traveled over me. "And maybe a bit of personal indulgence."

Kill him. Kill them all. For once, I agreed with the voice. These men were not worthy of life. Who are you to judge that? Purpose demanded. I gritted my teeth. As one, they smiled before lunging at me. Ghilani howled from where she lay crumpled on the ground.
I slammed a foot down, my magic pulsing out, sending them back from me, but not far enough as Karras's fist connected with my face. My lip split against my teeth, but I howled at him before incasing my own fist in ice and punching him. I felt bone crunch, his nose misaligned.
I fought like a cornered animal, punching, kicking, encasing my extremities in ice as I did. The others eventually tackled me to the ground, fists pummeling my torso. I began screaming in defiance, thrashing underneath of them. My mana went haywire. A blizzard erupting around us, the wind howling, cold biting, utter darkness enveloping us. I felt their grips weaken as they were swept around by the force of the storm.
Wrenching my arms free, my elven eyesight allowing me to see, I began to crawl. I felt a hand grab my ankle before dragging me towards them. They straddled me, hands at my throat.

"Oh, no you don't. Unfortunately, I'm out of time. If I can't enjoy you, I'll at least get to kill you," Denam's voice growled. "Too bad I don't have the red stuff as I'd pour it down your throat just to see what would happen. We knew they'd catch us if we brought it." His grip on my throat tightened, causing memories of that cell to surface, the blizzard dissipating with my air supply being cut off, terror rising in my chest, my legs flailing as my body tried to fight.

I saw a flash of blue light in my peripheral before hearing screams and a sickening squelching sound. Then I heard a roar, Cullen's roar, and a strange laugh. In my dimming sight, I watched as Cullen tore through the traitorous templars with his bare hands like a raging beast.
His eyes full of righteous fury. I'd never seen him so enraged. At his sides stood an elf male that was glowing blue, covered in blood and a woman that was strangely dressed wielding dual swords. Solana was behind him along with others streaming from the tavern.

"Just like old times, isn't it?" The woman's voice called as they threw themselves into the fray.

"What is? The blood? The magic? The templars? Us stuck in the middle?" A deep, rich voice called.

"I was going to say seeing you all lit up and in a murderous rage," the female called.

Cullen tackled Denam off of me, the two rolling across the ground. I gasped in air, my entire body aching as I watched Cullen beat Denam bloody before turning on Karras who was trying to get to me, pummeling him with his fists. Knowing I was safe, feeling Ghilani's warmth at my back as she dragged herself next to me, I slipped into unconsciousness.

—

I felt a cool cloth on my forehead. "That should do it," Solana's voice spoke. "She just needs to rest now."

"Cullen," Ellana's voice spoke, "Are you sure you don't want—"

"If I go anywhere near them, I will kill them before they can utter a single syllable. As it is, they're lucky to be alive," Cullen growled. "Cassandra, Leliana, and Elizabeth can interrogate them without me. Have them use whatever means they wish."

"What about your hands?" Solana's voice questioned.

"I'm fine," Cullen spit.

"We're just trying to help you," Solana chastised. "Do not take your anger out on us."

I heard Cullen breathe out his nose. "I know. Forgive me."

"Send word if you need me," Solana instructed.

"I will update you as soon as we know anything," Ellana promised.

"Promise me one thing, Inquisitor," Cullen demanded.

"What is it?" Ellana questioned.

"This time when you render judgment—execute them," Cullen growled.

"You have my word," Ellana replied, her voice dark.

I heard a door close after a moment and felt that damp cloth on my face again. I was laying on a bed, but where, I did not know. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Cullen's amber ones. Guilt, shame and rage were in them as he searched my face. I felt no injury, Solana having healed everything, but I felt tired. Cullen, however, was covered in cuts and bruises.
I blinked and realized we were in my room. From what I could tell, I was unclothed, assuming my clothes had been ruined. I sat up quickly, clutching my sheets to keep me covered as a blush seared across my face.

"Forgive me," Cullen murmured. "I…cannot bear the thought of being separated from you after that."

He stood and went to my chest of drawers. I watched him as he moved. His back was tight under his shirt, his hands clenched into fists. I noticed that his knuckles were a bloodied mess. He hadn't changed, blood and mud still all over him.
He wrenched open the drawers with such force he nearly pulled the whole thing over as he searched through them. Taking out one of my nightgowns, he slammed the drawer shut. His eyes met mine, burnished bronze in the light of the fire burning in the hearth. He handed me the nightgown before going to stand at the fireplace, one hand on the mantle, his fingers gripping it so hard I thought he'd break the wood.

I slipped the nightgown on quickly. "Where's Ghilani?"

He thrust a thumb to where Ghilani's bed was, the wolf asleep upon it. "Solana healed her after seeing to you. She had a few broken ribs and a broken leg from where they—" Cullen cut himself off and I saw his shoulders tense. He turned towards me, he seemed ready to rage at me, but instead, his shoulders slumped and he looked away.

"Why don't you get cleaned up?" I murmured, my throat sore.

"Your sister brought me some clothes," he stated. "Is it alright if I use your bath?"

"Yes."

He gave a nod, collected the bundle off my couch and headed into the bathing room. I listened to him undress before he slid into the bath. Listening to the sounds of him scrubbing and bathing, I blushed. As quickly as he'd gotten in, he was out, drying off before dressing.
I heard the pad of his feet on the stone floor before he was back in the main room. He was in linen breeches, his powerful calves on display, and a short-sleeved linen shirt. I saw the extent of his injuries, his hands swollen, bruised, open and still bleeding.

He came to kiss me on the forehead. "Rest, love." He grabbed a pillow and a blanket before going to make a bed of the couch.

Throwing the covers off myself, I stood. I grabbed the pitcher and basin of water that sat atop my chest of drawers, a clean cloth and went over to him. Setting everything down, I straightened. He didn't turn to look at me, but his hands clenched in the blanket, their strength on display despite the injuries.
I placed a gentle hand on his flexed forearm. He pulled away from me, refusing to look at me. Gently, I turned him and pushed him to sit on the couch. I sat beside him, setting the basin on my lap before pouring some water into the basin. I took one of his hands setting it in the basin and began gently cleaning it.

"Maker!" He swore. "Maker! Sweet Maker! Sweet Blood of Andraste!" Cullen raged, tearing his hands through his hair.
"Red Templars. Here. In Skyhold. And I didn't even realize. They must have been waiting for the opportunity to get Denam out. Samson targeted you." Cullen's breathing was ragged, his eyes glaring, his teeth bared.
"He targeted you! When I saw you all bloodied, Denam choking you…" Cullen's rage broke, his voice thick and face twisted in anguish. "I never wanted you to see me like that. To see me so angry." He pulled his hands from his hair and looked at them. They were shaking. "I swore to leave that man behind in Kirkwall."

"Cullen, look at me," I ordered as I set down the basin. His eyes, full of bitterness, self-loathing and shame met mine. I put a hand on his cheek.
"Your anger," I took his right hand and kissed each of his knuckles, "was righteous."
Healing magic and ice flowed from my lips, healing the cuts and reducing the swelling. "And that kind of anger," I took his left hand and kissed each of his knuckles, doing the same, "does not frighten me."
The other wounds healed.
"You, my lion," I kissed his cheek, healing a bruise there, "protected me. You, my knight," I kissed his other cheek, healing a cut, "stopped yourself." He was watching me intently.
"You, my love," I kissed his forehead, "rescued me."

His eyes flicked between mine. "This time." He looked away, his jaw clenching.

"You couldn't before, Cullen," I murmured.

"I could have," he growled. "If I had not been so blind. So consumed with my own anger."

"No, Cullen," I shook my head. "It was the path I was meant to walk. Just as you were meant to walk your's."

He looked at me then, anger in his face. "How can you say that? What good can come of what you endured?"

"What good has come of your pain?" I asked, quietly.

Anger dissipating as he full well knew the answer, he looked away. "Forgive me, that was…unkind."

"I understand the question," I said softly, "and I do not know the answer yet; but I do know that the Maker was there, every step of the way. Just as he is now."
Gently, slowly, I took his head in my hands and pulled him against my chest. Rigid at first and then he relaxed against me.
"'Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder'," I murmured to him, feeling him shiver.
"'Who knows me as You do? You have been there since before my first breath. You have seen me when no other would recognize my face. You composed the cadence of my heart'." I could feel him, clinging to me as he wept silently, burying his face further into my chest.
"'Through blinding mist, I climb a sheer cliff, the summit shrouded in fog, the base endlessly far beneath my feet the Maker is the rock to which I cling'." His breathing was calming as I ran my fingers through his hair in an effort to soothe him, holding him tenderly.
"'I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only abyss. Trembling, I step forward, in darkness enveloped. Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost. I am not alone. Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see the Light is here'," I whispered to him.

Feeling his breathing deepening as he surrendered to sleep, I clutched him to me. I wept silently, beseeching the Maker to help set us both free.

---

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