WARNINGS: Graphic depiction of violence

CULLEN

As I held my nephew, I explained to them why I had come and why they needed protection. All joy fizzled out as they came to understand that their lives were in danger. Because of me. That if not for what I fully believed to be divine providence, they would all be wounded, if not dead. They had no idea as to the severity of the danger they were in, the soldiers sent back by Isabela and Fenris only knowing that the pair had prevented an attack upon the farm.
This seemed to only stoke Rosalie's anger further. I could hardly blame her. I had put them in harm's way. Again. I had failed to protect them. Again. I told them the soldiers would remain permanently as I had arranged for coin and building materials to build barracks in order to house the soldiers.

"So why did this Samson seek to wound you this way?" Bran questioned from his spot against the wall. "This seems more like a personal vendetta."

I met his gaze. "I do not know if it was personal or simply brutal tactics. You hit the enemy where it hurts. It is the fastest way to break morale or end a fight." I clenched my jaw. "Apparently, orders were to only harm you, not kill you."

"Why?" Mia questioned, the light from the hearth dancing across her skin as her brow knit.

"I suppose to send the message that we are not unreachable," I shrugged. "Perhaps Samson thought it would impart some form of moral conduct on his part." I shifted Samuel, the babe limp in my hands as he slept, tightly swaddled. "He may have given those orders, but his men did not adhere to them. They intended to kill their target at Skyhold, despite Samson's orders. I suspect they would have done so here as well."

"Who was the target there?" Mia questioned, a curious look on her face. Had I imparted some feelings in my voice?

"My—our—Lieutent-Commander. A mage that leads our mixed military battalion comprised of templars and mages," I explained. Mia's gaze became penetrating, her lips lifting at the corners. I cleared my throat and looked away from her. "We thank the Maker that she was relatively unharmed."

"'She'?" Bran lifted a brow, laughter in his voice.

"You sound rather...fond of this Lieutenant-Commander," Mia probed, her brown eyes studying my face.

"We work together daily. She is a very talented mage, a hard worker and she is very passionate about our cause. I enjoy working with her," I stated, trying to keep any inflection out of my voice. The last thing I needed was them prying into my romantic life. Mia already had in letters. Subtly, but I had known what she was after.

"Will she be missing your...input while you're away?" Bran questioned. His voice had been flat, but the implication was there. Far more subtle than Rylen, but just as quick and observant. Mia's smirk deepened.

I could feel the heat rising in my face, but there was no escape as I held Samuel. "The Lieutenant-Commander is currently away and will be for some time."

Mia and Branson gave noncommittal noises, so I focused upon Samuel, hoping lowering my face would hide the redness I felt growing. I still did not know how to hold a babe in my arms, even with Fioren as practice. Fioren was bigger, stronger, but far more squirmy. My nephew, Samuel, was a tiny thing that felt so light and fragile, I was afraid I would break him.
Branson and the others had laughed at my nervousness, telling me he was stronger than he appeared. Mia began cackling at the look I gave when little Samuel began squalling. Enjoying my discomfort a moment longer, she rose and took the boy to carry him to his mother. Mia looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes alight with mischief, that same smirk I wore on her face, telling me he was hungry.
I looked to Branson, who was still leaning against the wall behind his wife, arms across his chest. He had a soft and bemused as he watched his wife discreetly nurse their son. The cries silenced immediately.

"He's got a pair of lungs on him to be sure," I chuckled.

"So did you," Mia teased. "I'll never forget your wailing."

"I do not hold a candle to Bran," I muttered.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Cul," Mia grinned like a cat, enjoying my embarrassment. "Mama always said you were the loudest of us."

"Only because she knew how much it embarrassed me," I grumbled again. When Mia was silent, I looked at her to find tears in her eyes. She was trying to smile through it, but I could see the grief she was holding back. An ache tore through my chest. "Mia, I...there is no excuse for my not...being here."

Mia wiped her eyes. "Sorry, I promised myself I would...hold it in until later. Deep down, I understood that you couldn't just leave your duties, but...surely they give templars leave for family matters?"

I shook my head. "No, not truly. The Order would prefer we all celibate and orphaned. Wholehearted devotion; duty above all else."

A frown pulled on her blotchy face. "Why?"

"So as not to be distracted," I stated.

"I hate that you became a templar," Rosalie hissed from where she stewed in anger. "I hate that you wanted that more than your own family." I looked to her, finding a familiar rage in her face. "And now you've left them, only to join another cause that demands duty and devotion."

"It's...not that, Rosalie," I rebutted. "The Inquisitor herself demanded I come to see to your safety. Gave me leave to do so. I made the vow to give no less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry."

"So if the Inquisitor had not demanded it, would you have come?" Rose demanded.

Shame washed over me and I looked away from her. "No."

I heard her shoot up from where she had been sitting, listened to her pounding footsteps and the slam of a door. I won't lie to them, not even if it hurts them.

"I thought you said you weren't going to hurt them?" Bran's wife barbed.

I looked up to her, catching Bran and Mia's hurt looks. "Would you prefer I lied to them?"

"No," Bran said firmly.

"But I would like to know why," Mia said softly. "Do you...care so little for us, Cullen?"

Pain twisted my gut. "No, Mia."

"Then why? Why did you stop writing? Why would you not have come?" Her eyes pleaded, begging to understand.

"I had to get away from everything. And...I was not ready to see you."

"Why?" Mia begged.

"Because of what happened at the tower," Bran stated, his eyes boring into mine when I looked at him. "Everything changed after that." I gave a nod, but said nothing. "What happened?"

"I will not speak of it," I growled, the memories rising so quickly, the room spun.

"We know only that mages rebelled, templars died and the Hero of Ferelden rescued the tower from utter destruction," Branson pressed. "You were there, Cullen. We know you were."

"I was," I nodded. "That is all you need know."

"Why do you shut us out?" Mia implored. "We are your family."

I gave her a level look. "And because you are my family, I will spare you that."

"Fine," she snarled, though it was half-hearted. "But at least help me understand your disappearing on us."

Lillian stood. "I think this is a conversation to be had amongst siblings." She went to Branson and shared a short kiss. "I will see Samuel to bed."

Bran came over to place a hand on Mia's shoulder once his wife had left. "Mia, it is not our business."

"To the Void with that!"

"Mia—" Bran began again.

"—No," her eyes were blazing as she looked at me. "I forgive you, Cullen, truly I do. All I care about is the fact that you're alive and that you're here. But I know there is something wrong. You're too thin, too weary and there is a darkness about you that was never there before. I see both my brother and someone else sitting before me and it hurts me."

"And that is the very reason why I stayed away," I admitted. "I am not the brother you knew." I looked away from her. After a moment, I sighed. "This was a mistake."

I felt hands clasp my own. Surprised, I looked to find Mia on her knees before me, her brown eyes wide and glistening with tears. "No, Cullen. No." She lowered her head. "Forgive me. I will not ask you any more about it."

I grabbed her hands and pulled her up into a hug. "You do not need to beg me. I am here and I am glad of it. Perhaps in time I will be able to speak more about it, but presently...I cannot offer you more than I have." I chucked her chin as I pulled away, making her look at me. "Just know, I have many regrets, but how I treated you all, is one of my greatest. Even if my reasons for doing so were...well intended."

"Perhaps we would all feel better with a good night's rest?" Bran offered, cutting through the tension.

Mia collected herself. "Yes, of course. Will you stay with us or bunk with your soldiers?"

"I should see to my men, ensure that they've gotten things in place," I stated. I had no intention of sleeping in the house with them, not with my nightmares. In fact, I had no intention of sleeping at all while I was here.

"Alright," she nodded. "Will you join us for breakfast?"

I glanced to where Rosalie had stomped off. "Should I?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Rose is going to have to come to terms with things. She may be the sweetest thing to ever grace Ferelden, but she has a stubbornness to match yours. You all think I'm the stubborn one. No. I don't even come close to you or her."

I looked to Bran in question. "It's true," he shrugged. "I'd just warn you to keep your sword with you at all times."

"Wait, why?" I knit my brows.

His mouth tipped. "Your wooden sword and shield got plenty of use after you left."

My brows rose. "Rose?"

"Don't be fooled by her," Mia warned. "She may be gentle, but she is fierce when she needs to be."

"You never mentioned this in your letters?" I quirked a brow at Mia.

She shrugged before looking away. "It wasn't something I thought she'd want me to share. It was...her way to remember her brother."

It would have been better if Mia had punched me in the gut for the pain I felt at those words. Maker, is there no one I love whom I have not hurt? I cleared my throat and turned to leave. "I will see you in the morning."

...

I took the night patrol, needing to think. Mia's mabari followed me, and I was glad of the company. The other houses, much like Dennet's farm were the homes of the families that helped work the land. All humble, hardworking people that cared for each other like family according to Mia. They'd gained the land after several Free Holders died due to the Blight. South Reach needed farmers and my siblings had just enough coin to buy land.
I leaned against the fence and looked at the landscape in the moonlight, the fires glowing through the windows. I hate that you became a templar. I see both my brother and someone else sitting before me and it hurts me. What am I even doing here? All I've done is hurt them more. I should make sure everything is seen to and return. The longer I linger here, the more I'll hurt them.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder and I turned to find Bran. His expression was serious, his eyes pensive. "Mia says the first thing that comes to her mind, you know that. Rosalie has seen more death and hardship in her young life than any sweet soul should. I think she's so in shock by your actually being here, she's not allowing herself to accept it. She doesn't want to be hurt again, even though she knows its not truly your fault. Mia just wants us to be able to be a family. She's had such a burden to carry with Mother and Father's passing. She knows its her burden, being the eldest, but...it would have been easier with you here. She doesn't realize it's made her stronger, but...we all could have used your strength."
He came to stand next to me, leaning against the fence as I did, arms crossed. "So, you and this Lieutenant-Commander?"

"Bran," I warned.

"It was written all over your face!" He laughed. "I remember you only get red like that when you're trying to lie or hide something."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I grumbled, feeling that redness again.

"You don't have to tell me anything," he flashed a roguish smile, "but know that I am happy for you. I hope she is to you what Lillian is to me. And now Samuel."

"And what is that?"

"Everything," he stated simply. "She makes me a better man. I just pray I'm the husband she needs and that I'll be the father that child deserves."

I thought of Meira. She was one of the many reasons I wanted to be a better man. Had to be a better man. The memory of her clutching a fist over her chest, tears in her eyes as she confessed that she couldn't give me children came to mind. The conviction with which she had stated that I would make an excellent father. Of all we'd been through, of how she still loved me despite everything she'd witnessed, everything she knew. Because, Cullen...I love you.
 "She is," I murmured softly.

Bran barked a laugh. "I knew it."

"Oh, shut up," I growled, shoving him gently with my elbow.

"You can't help that you're a terrible liar," Bran put up his hands defensively. "I swear, I won't tell Mia. If I did...Maker, you'd be married within a month."

I snorted. "I think she would find it a tad more difficult than that."

"Why?" Bran cocked his head.

Knowing I could not tell them of Meira's true identity, I told him what I could. "She is...an elf. There are...certain rules."

Bran's brows rose. "Really?"

I gave a nod. "Does her being an elf...bother you?"

He thought it over a moment. "No. If she makes you happy, that's all that matters." He searched my face. "So when do we get to meet her?"

Heat poured into my face. "Why would you ask me that?"

"So we can warn her away," Bran smirked. "She needs to know exactly who she's with. And do I have stories to tell," he smiled wolfishly as he leaned his face towards me.

I shoved his face away and rolled my eyes. "Dolt."

He laughed. "Worried she'll run?"

"I'm going to resume my patrol now," I stalked off, but just as he did when we were kids, he followed me.

He slung an arm around my neck. "I'm just teasing you." He ruffled my hair and I shoved his arm off. "What is with your hair?"

"What do you mean?" I questioned, feigning ignorance. "It is my hair."

"That is not your hair," he chastised. "Your hair is as wildly curly as the rest of ours." He rubbed his fingers together, a horrified look on his face. "Is that wax?"

"Goodnight, Branson," I grumbled.

"The Commander of the Inquisition's Forces styles his hair!" Branson called, loud enough that his voice carried.

I whipped around. "I do not!" Branson began laughing so loudly and heartily that he fell to the ground. Mia's mabari began licking his face, barking and dancing around him. One flopped onto his belly and Bran's laughter cut short as he let out a whoosh of air and a groan. "Serves you right."

He chuckled again as he got up. "Aw, Cul, I've missed you. It was always so easy to push your buttons." He brushed himself off and met my eyes. "You think the brother we knew is gone? No, Cullen, I see him plain as day." At that, Bran turned and went to join his wife and child.

...

The week saw me slowly reconnecting my family, fears of them not being happy to see me falling away little by little. Rosalie avoided me, but with Bran and Mia it was as if I'd never left. In that, I found a great deal of peace. I knew the man I was, knew—despite Bran's words—I was a different person, but being with them, I felt a part of me restored and renewed. I felt a bit of hope.

I knew I could never be the boy I'd been when I'd left them. Could never be the man before Uldred's revolt. The man that didn't do the things I'd done—and not done—in Kirkwall, but amongst them...I saw the silhouette of a future that could be. A future not yet fully formed in my mind, but a seed of something had been planted and I knew in my gut that I would not be able to ignore it. A seed born of the serenity, the community, and the simple pride found in a hard day of honest work that I saw in not only my family, but the people that worked alongside them.

Over a few days, I'd found Rosalie at my side as I helped around the farm and helped Bran build the barracks for the soldiers, nearly all of whom were smitten with my sisters. This had led to several headaches and disciplinary actions against those that fancied themselves flirts, but my inner self could hardly blame them. They were beautiful, hardworking, confident women. How neither had been wed already were beyond me and when I'd asked Mia about it, her face had turned hard, stating simply that she'd never met a man worthy of her—a man that saw her as an equal. I'd asked no more on the subject as I could tell it caused Mia pain. Bran had offered only a little more light by stating that Mia had been betrayed and a young man that Rosalie had been growing close to was killed in the fighting between the mages and templars.

From that, I understood her anger towards me even more. In me—in the templars—she saw the reason why the object of her infatuation had died. She worked next to me, but never said a word and anytime I tried to speak with her, she turned her back and walked away. Bewildered, but striving to trust the Maker, I stopped trying to speak with her and instead worked quietly at her side.

Mia, Rosalie, Bran and Lillian joined the soldiers and I at meal times, where I sat in embarrassment as my men shard stories of not only their antics, but of my leadership. Recruit Jim was all too eager to share about my so-called heroics after Haven, in the wilderness and when we'd arrived at Skyhold. A few times, I stumbled upon my family being amongst them without me only to hear the men happily retelling details of Meira and I's relationship, such as our kiss on the battlements, my apparent "unbridled passion" towards her and our "nauseating" sweetness. This caused my men to earn a murderous glare from me before they averted their eyes and began to shovel food in their mouths or scatter to the wind. I'd look to find a smug grin on Bran's face, indignation on Mia's for not knowing and an enigmatic look on Rosalie's face as she kept her gaze on her uneaten meal.
We were in the middle of finishing the last wall of the barracks when I heard a noise behind us.

"Commander," a recruit called and I turned. There were a few soldiers, dragging with them two terrified and starving mages. The mages' robes were rags, dirty and torn. They were gaunt, eyes haunted. "We found them hiding in the barn as we did our rounds."

One of the mage's eyes shifted to me and widened. "You!" I looked him over, trying to place his face, but coming up short despite it's familiarity. His thin face stretched and twisted with rage. "You!"

I felt his mana shift, it was faint compared to Meira as I seemed more attuned to her, but I could still feel it. My hand went to my sword hilt, unease and worry writhing in my gut. The mage did not miss my action, his eyes flicking to where my hand had gone.
Magic lit in his hands in response. Taking a deep breath, I slowly released my sword putting my hand out in a display of neutrality. It surprised him, but only for a moment. "Why were you hiding in the barn?"

"Why do you think, Knight-Commander?" The mage spat. His dark eyes were filled with rage. Every inch of his body taut with the want to strike, but he hadn't. He was angry, but not stupid. "No matter what has happened, we are still mages. Still hated and feared by everyone." He bared his teeth. "We're lucky to even be alive, no thanks to you. Not months after you left, the templars you left behind with those of us who did not wish to leave, turned on us; butchering nearly all of us."

"What?"

"Don't act all surprised," he growled. "All it took was one templar talking about how we were the reason the city was destroyed, that their loved ones were suffering or dead, that they were stuck at the Gallows. Whispers spread through the tower that they were planning on annulling those of us who remained. When they started cutting their way through us, their eyes were glowing red, like abominations out of our nightmares. But it was you templars that had fallen, not us."

"Ruvena. What happened to Ruvena?" I questioned.

"They killed her."

"Maker, no," I sucked in a breath.

"You were so eager to abandon us, you didn't even think to make sure the jailers you left us with weren't eager to put us to the sword."

"I trusted Ruvena. Trusted she would keep the others in check if that were to happen."

"Ruvena was a good woman, but alone in her convictions."

"Why didn't she reach out to me?"

"What difference would that have made?" He demanded. "It's not like you would have come back."

"No, but I would have sent aid or requested she bring you all to join the Inquisition."

"A fancy name for a Circle. A Circle in all but name."

I shook my head. "No. It's a refuge. Mages are free within, assisting the Inquisition in any way they can, including using magic. We've begun a mixed military battalion where mages and templars are truly working together."

The mage scoffed. "As if we would believe you. The blind Knight-Captain that saw only the corruption in us and not the corruption all around him. Meredith. Alrik. Karras." The other mage flinched at Alrik's name, a woman, as the man spit Karras' name. "Since your first instinct was to draw your sword on me, I doubt anything has changed."

"Forgive me," I offered. "You are upon my family's farmland. My first instinct is to protect them."

"Your…family?" The mage's brows lifted in surprise as he dared a glance around.

"Cullen?" Rosalie's voice sounded and my gut dropped to my feet as she returned. The mage was hardly relaxed. His mana shifted again at the sound of Rose's voice. She was beautiful as she approached us, worry on her face. Her amber eyes flicked between us all, landing on the mages last. I sensed the mages' mana building, but it stilled as Rose offered a smile to them. "You both look hungry. Would you join us for lunch?"

The mages glanced between themselves, utterly bewildered; of all things, the offer of a meal was not what they had expected. "What?"

"Are you hungry?" Rose offered again. "We've plenty of food and beds for you to rest."

"But…we're mages," the man stated.

Rose cocked her head as if confused. "And?"

"Aren't you…afraid of us?"

"Should I be?"

"Well, um, no," he acquiesced.

"Good, then please follow me," Rosalie turned. "Commander. Soldiers. You will join us."

"Yes, ma'am," a few of the recruits stated, quickly moving to follow her order.

We all sat together in the small house and all I could think about was if things turned ugly how this house would be utterly destroyed in a matter of moments. The mages were indeed starving as they shoveled food in and chugged down water. Mia and Rosalie served us all, kind and patient as they did so. The other mage, the woman, took a liking to Rose, the two talking in hushed whispers once the meal was served.

The man and I kept meeting each other's eye, but not speaking. I could still not place his name, though he was familiar. Then it clicked: Alain. It was Alain. The boy Hawke had rescued time and again in Kirkwall. An unwilling participant in a group of apostates that had fled Starkhaven. He'd been a decent enough charge, but had fallen victim to peer pressure time and again.

"Alain," he murmured.

"I remember," I stated.

"I'm surprised," he met my gaze, his voice softer, but his dark gaze still cold. "I thought we no more than nameless monsters in your eyes."

I felt Rosalie and Mia's eyes flick towards me. "I have no excuse for how I conducted myself, Alain, but you were never nameless."

"Lies," the woman that had flinched earlier spit.

"Ella," Alain warned.

"You know it's true, Alain!" Ella yelled. "He was so blinded by hate and fear, he was unwilling to see what his fellow templars were doing! We knew he was harmless, but he was no help either!"

"He's the only reason Meredith didn't kill me on the spot after that whole incident with Grace! I have my grievances, you know I have, but don't dismiss what good he did."

"'Good'? What 'good' did he do?" Ella demanded. "You know what I suffered! I know what you suffered, Alain! All he did was bury his head in the sand and when he couldn't any longer, he abandoned us!"

"He offered for us all to join him," Alain argued. "We chose not to."

Ella threw her utensils down. "So now it's our fault?" She stabbed a finger at me. "He was the Knight-Commander. I dared to hope while he remained, seeing how he'd finally opened his eyes after Meredith's deranged meltdown. Thought maybe things would finally change. Then he up and left."

I recalled Ella being a close friend to Bethany and she being hurt and confused as to why she had not come with us. "You were friends with Bethany Hawke, were you not?"

Ella turned her brown eyes to me. "I was. What of it? She abandoned us too."

"She did not," Alain argued. "She chose to leave."

"She's the chief healer amongst the Inquisition," I stated. "If you'd like to join us, I'm sure she'd be happy to see you both again."

"Why would we join you?" Ella questioned. "We are free now. I would prefer to remain that way."

"You would be no less free there," I assured.

"Right," she snorted. "With you there? Are you serious? You may not have been a threat, but you wanted us locked away like good little monsters. Stayed blind and deaf to what was going on around you." I looked away, ashamed.

"Actually, the Com—my brother has been working quite closely with a mage he trusts implicitly," Rosalie's voice spoke softly. "The two have built a battalion comprised of mages and templars. His only input and dealings with the mages is in helping to train them to fight for the Inquisition—of course, only those who wish to; beyond that, he is completely uninvolved with the mages. This mage, Talitha, is in charge of the dealings with the mages. Cullen takes only an advisory role when his counsel is sought by either Talitha or the templars there."

"Not to mention that you would be safe there," Mia stated. "With regular access to food and a bed. The Inquisition is probably the safest place you could be."

They were still skeptical, so I added, "Former Grand-Enchanter Fiona is there. She is the attaché to the Lieutenant-Commander of the battalion. She oversees much of the mages day to day at the behest of the Lieutenant-Commander."

This caught their attention. "And she came…willingly?"

"She was offered an alliance," I nodded. They exchanged a glance. "Mages from all over Thedas have found their way to us, finding freedom, refuge and purpose. I do not know what the future may bring for mages or the Circles, but for now, there is no Circle, there is no Order—beyond seeing to actual threats—and the Inquisition welcomes the remnants of both. The Lieutenant-Commander demands that the two work together."

"But we would be free to leave?" Ella questioned.

"Yes," I gave a nod. "You are not prisoners."

"And you will not take us by force, Knight-Commander?" Alain probed.

I met his dark eyes and answered after a moment's hesitation. "I am no longer a templar, therefore I am not bound by the Order."

They furrowed their brows. "'No longer'?"

I shook my head. "When I left, I left it all. I am the Commander of the Inquisition's Forces. No more, no less. I serve the Maker and the Inquisition. Not the Chantry or the Order."

They were silent as they looked at each other, sharing a nod as they communicated. It was Ella who spoke. "We would see what this Inquisition is about, but we make no promises that we will stay."

"That's all I can ask," I gave a nod. "Now, if you would, tell me everything that happened after I left Kirkwall."

…

My heart sinking in my chest, I bade my family goodbye. Hugging my sisters, utterly shocked when Rosalie embraced me, clasping arms with Branson and having one last look at little Samuel, I swung my leg up as I mounted my horse. The soldiers saluted and I returned it, before turning my horse and my back on them all. A few soldiers were returning with me, Alain and Ella among us, as we headed towards Skyhold.

We were silent on the road, my mind straying often to Meira and to this idea that had begun to take shape in my mind. Earlier that morning, Mia had tried to pry more out of me about Meira. Despite my efforts to downplay the seriousness of our relationship and to avoid giving her details I was not ready to share, she produced a little ring box that was open as she held it out to me. It was Mother's ring. I'd looked at her in disbelief. Tears had been in her eyes as she recounted how Mother had made her take it when they'd had to leave them behind. She'd offered it to Bran, but he refused.

When I asked why, she said for the same reason she and Rosalie refused to take it: they'd hoped for the day when I would return and need it. I'd been speechless, but reached for the box. Mia pulled it away, an impish grin on her face as she told me I'd get it when I brought Talitha to meet them. I swallowed down my argument and simply nodded my head before she tackled me in a hug.

"Commander!" One of the soldiers shouted as arrows flew from the trees, startling me out of my thoughts.

Alain and Ella cast shields over us before the arrows met their marks, a group of Red Templars spilling from the forest in response. I shouted orders as I jumped off my horse, rushing to put myself in front of the mages as the Red Templars barreled towards us. Alain and Ella fought on either side of me, freezing, burning and electrocuting the templars.

One of the soldiers was cut down before I could do anything, drawing a roar from my lips as I charged the monstrosity that had killed them. I shield bashed the creature, earning a cutting laugh before it swung an arm at me. I jumped back just in time, slicing my sword in an arc, severing the creature's arm from it's elbow. It wailed in pain, blood spewing for a moment before red lyrium grew in it's place.

"You should've joined us, Knight-Commander," the creature spoke. "You'd know real power if you had. You'd finally feel that hunger, that thirst, slaked."

"Only for it to be reawakened into some new horror," I growled.

Despite my words, hunger for lyrium clenched on my throat as I smelled the red lyrium and I nearly lost my footing. Another swing from the twisted thing, connecting with my shield this time, causing my arm to vibrate at the force and go numb. I was breathing hard, my legs shaking. Not now. Maker, please, not now. Fire and ice flew past me, pushing the creature back as it growled in frustration. The mages stood before me, distracting the creature.

Shaking my head to refocus, I ran it's left flank, punching my blade through it's rib cage and into it's heart. Blood ran down the fuller, the creature seizing. I yanked the blade out as red lyrium began to grow and sliced it's head from it's shoulders. Heaving in breaths as it's body fell to the ground, I shook the blood from my blade before wiping the remnants off. I could smell the lyrium in the blood, mingled with the salt and metal scent. My stomach flipping, I sheathed my blade, knowing I would need to oil it down when we stopped for the night.

Turning to Alain and Ella, I checked them over. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Ella answered before turning to mount her horse.

"Well enough," Alain answered, starting to turn but stopping to look at me. "Thank you."

I gave a nod. Sparing a final glance at the creature before I helped the others gather the carcasses of the Red Templars to burn them. We built a modest pyre for the soldier that had fallen, I writing their name on the ever growing list that I kept on my person. The list both to serve as remembrance to write their families, but also to remind me why I could not fail. Why I could not give less to this than I did the Chantry.

With every loss, I wondered if I would serve them better with lyrium coursing through my veins. I knew that I didn't want that-not for myself, not for Meira-but I couldn't help wondering if I was being selfish; if I was putting myself and my desires above my men like Meredith had, like Greagoir had. I couldn't be that, couldn't be them, but who—what—would I be if I did take lyrium again? I would be faster, stronger, clearer-headed, but...empty, brutal, and broken.

I stared into the flames, seeing the eyes of the demon and her cruel smile the longer I looked. I closed my eyes, the world beginning to spin, sweat dripping down my back, nausea rolling in my gut as I felt her claws rake against my skull. Her claws turned to the tendrils of blood magic as Uldred and the others took turns trying to break my mind and will to be used as a puppet.

I opened my eyes to find myself in Kinloch Hold. I closed them again, smelling the pyre, feeling the soft ground beneath my booted feet, the breeze on my face. I breathed in and out through my mouth before opening my eyes again. Finding the world righted, I gave a salute to the soldier, turned and mounted my horse. I set a brutal pace, putting as much distance between the song of the red lyrium and myself as possible, but unable to fully drown out its call.

We arrived at Skyhold a week later. I was exhausted, sore and in desperate need of a bath, the others no doubt feeling the same. Riding the platform up to the neck of the castle, I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders as I took in the familiar towers. The flags bearing the Inquisition's symbol unfurling in the breeze, the bustle of our people along the walkway, soldiers saluting as we passed.

The village below had been alive with people, taking shape as a true place to live and I'd felt a sense of joy and pride at the sight. Children running to their parents who'd been absent as they served the Inquisition, loved ones reunited, families made whole once more. As we passed under the main gate, my mind went back to the day I'd watched Meira leave from the battlements. She'd turned to find me before she'd raised a hand in salute.
Already missing her, the gesture had filled me with an odd sensation, nearly as much as her passionate goodbye. The way she'd shouted my name, leapt into my arms and kissed me breathless...it made my arms ache to hold her as I thought of it.

"Commander," Sela's voice called almost as soon as I'd dismounted my stallion. The ground nearly rose to meet me as the world spun, causing me to grab onto the saddle to keep from stumbling over.

"Yes?" I bit out.

"Sister Nightingale requests your presence in the dungeons immediately, ser," Sela said grimly.

"Very well," I sighed once the spinning stopped.

"It's good to see you back, ser," she added.

"I'm glad to be back," I replied. "If you would, Sela, show these mages to Bethany." I waved a hand at Alain and Ella.

"Yes, ser."

Wanting nothing more than to escape to my tower, I made my way to the dungeons. Descending the many stairs, the roar of the waterfall growing louder and louder. I came to the main room to find someone on their knees before Leliana, chained to the floor. Red hair spilled about them, their face lowered.

"Ah, Commander," Leliana greeted as if this were a normal occurrence. "Would you like to meet our spy?"

My eyes went to the prisoner once more. No. "Trevelyan?"

Elizabeth raised her head, a haughty look in her eyes and a feline smile on her mouth as her sapphire eyes met my gaze. "Hello, Chantry Boy."

I was dumbfounded. My eyes flicking between her and Leliana in disbelief. "Tell me it's not true."

"I'm afraid it is true," Elizabeth sighed. Then her gaze returned to me. "How are you going to punish me? I've been a naughty girl."

"Drop the act, Elizabeth," Leliana ordered. "You spied and leaked information because Lucien Corin threatened your family. I suspected you from the beginning. The way you just happened to be working on an investigation away from the Conclave. That you just happened to be in Ferelden, in the Hinterlands? It was all too convenient. The true red flag was that Cassandra had no knowledge of you being here. Then how seamlessly you meshed into the Inquisition, how you tried to seduce the Commander, then his second-in-command. The only thing that kept me from fully suspecting you was Henry's complete obliviousness to it all. Tell me, is he involved?"

Elizabeth only smiled wider. "You're the Spymaster, you tell me."

"I suppose I could bring the boy back from the Dales, have him tortured in front of you," Leliana said as evenly as if she were describing the weather. "Pull him taut on a rack, slice his abdomen open, pluck out those lovely eyes of his, maybe even those perfect teeth…"

Elizabeth, to her credit, remained composed. "It wouldn't do you much good. He doesn't know anything."

Leliana remained indifferent as she leaned towards Elizabeth. "Or I could just send word to Bull to kill him as I requested before they left?"

Elizabeth made a face as if she were thinking, but unshaken. "How about a deal?"

"A deal?"

"You can't be serious!" I spit. "You should be—"

"—What Cullen? What should I be?" Elizabeth flashed a glare at me. "What choice did I have? The Lord Seeker threatened my family, a group of Red Templars on standby to tear them apart if I did not do exactly what he asked. And I did, but all the while I have protected the Inquisition as much as I have been able."

"And my family? How did you protect them?" I demanded.

"I didn't know about your family," she murmured. "If I had…I would have done something."

"And why in the Maker's name should we believe you?"

"Because I can give you Samson and the Red Templars. And I can give Cassandra, Lucien." Her face was completely serious.

"That would certainly be worth something, if it is true," Leliana cooed. "But what reason have we to believe you?"

"I'll give you one location, free of charge, to check that I am correct," Elizabeth shrugged. "They made a mistake when they went after my family. I would see them all burn for it. If you can guarantee my family's safety, I will stop at nothing to wipe them off the face of Thedas."

"And how would we do that without compromising your position amongst them?" Leliana questioned. "If you are to remain of value to us, you must maintain your status as their agent for as long as possible."

"You are not seriously considering this?" I demanded. "She may know one location, but that does not guarantee she knows anything beyond that."

"This is my area of expertise, Commander," Leliana stated, cooly. "Are you finding fault with my decisions?"

"Only your decision to trust her."

Leliana's mouth curved sardonically. "I am not trusting her. I do not trust anyone, not fully. I am using her—and she full well knows it. If she does not prove useful, her life—and the lives of her family—are forfeit. She has nothing to gain in betraying us, beyond ash. In aiding us, she stands to gain everything. Is that not right, Trevelyan?"

Elizabeth hung her head. "You are right. I meant to come to you on several occasions, Leliana. I could never find the words, and feared the repercussions—more for Henry than myself."

"That is not an excuse for cowardice," I growled. "Your inaction—and actions—have cost lives! Would have cost several more if not for divine intervention."

Elizabeth snorted. "Well, you would know, wouldn't you, Knight-Captain?"

Rage boiled in my gut. "Did I claim to speak in righteous, guiltless judgment? I speak from experience." I turned to Leliana. "I will have no part in this. I suggest seeking the Inquisitor's counsel; if she agrees, then I will concede. Until then, I want nothing to do with her or her supposed information."

"The Inquisitor already asked that I make use of her, if she has useful information." I clenched my jaw. "The Inquisitor is shrewd. You've said this yourself. She knows the value of Elizabeth's information—if it pans out—is worth more than the slaking of personal vengeance." Leliana looked pointedly at me as she said those words.

I looked to Elizabeth, a final question on my mind. "Are you to blame for Haven?"

Her demeanor faltered, and I knew I had my answer. "In part. I sent word to Lucius as to your plans, but no definitive details. But I am privy to only so much. I did not know their plans." She lowered her head. "Lucius. Samson. Calpernia. Corypheus. They are not foolish enough to completely trust anyone. Not me. Not each other." She looked up once more. "Perhaps the Inquisition could learn something from that."

"If we do not have trust, we have nothing." Rage boiled anew and I jerked my head to Leliana. "Get what information you want, whatever she has on the Red Templars I will use, but I will not deal with her personally." I looked at her once more. "Maker have mercy on you, for I have none."

…

Anger coursing through me, I stalked my way to my tower, anyone that crossed my path quickly dodging out of the way. A part of me felt guilty, but I couldn't rein in my rage. I had trusted Elizabeth, had fallen for her ploy of a wounded heart, believed her care for the Inquisition to be genuine. Then to learn that she was party to what had occurred in Haven?

I clenched my hands into fists. Kicking my door open and slamming it closed behind me, I heaved in breaths. I stared down the practice dummy that sat in the corner diagonal from me. Grabbing my dagger from my belt, I threw it, hitting the dummy in the forehead. Stripping my armor off, I stalked towards the dummy and began punching it.

Eventually, I'd shed my shirt due to the sweat. My anger had calmed, clarity coming with the release. I understood Ellana and Leliana's thinking. I even dared to understand the predicament Elizabeth had been in, though it did not excuse her inaction—anymore than my own circumstances had excused mine. Or did it? Her family had a boot to their throat and Elizabeth had the ultimatum of either protecting her family by doing what they had demanded or to risk their lives by warning us.

What essentially angered me was her lack of trust and faith in us: we'd taken her and Henry in, valued them, and trusted them. What had made her believe we would not help her? That we would not protect her family?

"Ser," Sela's voice spoke as she entered the tower, carrying a dinner tray which she sat upon the desk before her eyes came to rest on me. They went a bit red and her cheeks pinked.

Swallowing down a growl of frustration at her just barging in, I quickly donned my shirt at her reddened face. "Yes?"

She held out a small bundle of letters. "For you, ser. From Lady Talitha."

I met her blue eyes. "Why were these not sent on to South Reach?"

"They just arrived the day before, ser. Guess the birds got caught up in a storm."

"Right. Thank you," I nodded as I took the bundle.

"Are you alright, ser?" Sela questioned, her eyes flicking between my bruised hands and the dummy.

"Just needed to clear my head," I stated.

"Let me know if you need anything else, Commander."

"I will. That will be all for now, Sela," I inclined my head.

"Ser."

Collapsing into my desk chair, I opened the oldest letter first:

Cullen,

I miss you terribly and think of you often. Far more than I should admit, to be honest. I hope you are well and taking care of yourself—or Sela is doing so in my stead. These next months will be long indeed, and I pray the Maker brings us together sooner rather than later as only He knows how hard being parted from you has been. My heart feels empty without you and I find you a constant on my mind. I hope that this is of comfort to you. I find myself uneasy at times and I want nothing more than to be in your arms once again, both of us safe. I hope it is not selfish to feel thus.

I hope that you do not find this next part too embarrassing my love, but I wanted to list everything of you that I miss: Your smile, your laughter, your mischief and your sweet nothings. The comfort of your arms around me, your warmth, your fervent kisses, your fingers twined through mine. If I daresay, I miss your beauty my lion-your gold-flecked eyes, your handsome smirk, and broad shoulders. I miss our easy conversations, comfortable silences and everything in between.

Lest I come across as...strange (I fear I've already done so), I will stop myself there.

Yours,

T.

Chuckling at her self-deprecative humor and appreciative of her allowing me to peek inside her mind and heart in regards to me, I moved on to the next letter that was far longer:

Cullen,

Might I just mention that I died of embarrassment given the contents of my previous letter upon the Inquisitor informing me that our dear Spymaster reads all of our communications? Let this be a warning to you, my love, and I pray Sister Nightingale deals kindly with you (forgive me).

The Emerald Graves are beautiful, despite the somewhat haunting nature of them. These trees are so large and old, they seem to almost be alive. To hold memories.
I sometimes forget that if not for the events of the last few years, I may never have seen anything beyond the walls of a Circle. I am glad of the opportunity to see more of the Maker's creation, though these were not the circumstances in which I would've wish to have done so. Despite the beauty, evidence of war is everywhere: abandoned homes, refugees, and signs of our enemies.

You'd be pleased to know that the battalion has made great strides. Amell and Trevelyan did well in Barris and I's absences, but with our return, we've seen a renewed sense of camaraderie. We found a small Red Templar operation hidden within the forest. People had been kidnapped with the intention of being shipped to an unknown location on the order of the templar in charge of the area—make of that what you will.
Apparently, the Red Templars convinced these "Freemen of the Dales" (deserters of the Imperial Army) to smuggle red lyrium through the forest for them. Where it is intended to go, we've yet to conclude, but we're still searching. Currently, we're finalizing plans for tracking down the Lieutenant that leads the Red Templars in the area.
They know we're here, evidenced via communiqué between them and the deserters, but we've an idea to pose as Freemen to draw them out. Pray for our success and that we'll be able to gather more information for our hunt for their general.

I'm having Barris and a few of the teams focus on the Venatori that Leliana's agents have discovered in the area. There's an elven ruin they seem interested in, though why, we are unsure. There is a group of Dalish elves protecting the site, which has alleviated the feeling of urgency, but they're small in number and we'd lend them aid.
They're a break off from a larger clan that are currently in the Exalted Plains; if we didn't have the Lavellan clan with us, I doubt things would've gone as smoothly. I thank the Maker for His provision in this. I'll update you as we find out more. Pray for their success and safety.

Barris is a good man, Cullen. One whom I think would be supportive of your…situation. The other leaders of the battalion and I got into a long discussion about mages and templars the other evening—Solana included and (praise the Maker) she didn't completely lose her head—Rylen also joined us.
Barris is conflicted about the Order, as are the other templars that remain with us. He wants it to remain, knows the duties of the templars, but what he has seen it become, what he sees in the Red Templars, he knows it cannot remain what it was. Neither can the Circle.
While the Red Templars disgrace the Order, a part of him feels it is only a reflection of the corruption that has spread through it like a disease. Abuse, oppression, intimidation and evil. The Order, he believes, has betrayed itself and has been betrayed.
In the Red Templars, and red lyrium, he confessed that he sees himself, but sees himself as some of the mages in his charge claimed to see him. He knows it's not the truth, but he has a better understanding of how mages view templars. I told him that's not how all mages see templars, but both sides have changes to make. Then Rylen and Henry cracked jokes to ease the tension and we fell into swapping stories of our younger years. They are good men, ones I'm glad to work with, but even more glad for you to have as friends. Perhaps you need to lean more on them?

How did your visit to South Reach go as I assume you are back at Skyhold now? How goes your training? How are the templar initiates? The mages?

But most importantly, how are you?

I know I said as much in my last letter, but I miss you terribly.

On an additional note, Solas and Ellana have been teaching me how to speak the elven language. There is a phrase the Inquisitor's parents say it often, "ma sa'lath" but it was lost on me as to what it meant until they explained. I wanted to leave you with the phrase in Common as I found it most fitting to what you are to me:

"My one love".

It means you are the only one I will ever love. You always have been…and always will be.

Talitha

P.S. I attached several drawings for you. Did you stumble across my end of the bargain yet?

Rubbing at my eyes that had wet with tears, I looked at the drawings she'd attached. Drawings of the forest, of Rylen and Barris, the troops, the battalion, Ellana and the other companions.
She'd drawn wildlife they'd come across: nugs, giant bears, wild rams. She'd even attached some sketches of me and I blushed at the way she captured me. There was one more letter, which I quickly opened.

My love,

They tell me my last few letters may never have made it or may have been delayed in their arrival as there was a storm causing the birds to be sent off course. I hope they reached you and that this one finds you well. I was hoping by now that we would be on our way to the Exalted Plains (as did the Lavellan clan), but alas we've encountered a few setbacks.

Our plan to surprise the Red Templars and capture their lieutenant failed. They sniffed out our ruse and planned their own ambush in response. The lieutenant nowhere to be found. Thankfully, it was not a complete failure as we were able to capture one of the more stable Red Templars and question her.
Prepare yourself for what I am about to tell you. The lieutenant's name is Carroll, formerly stationed at Kinloch Hold. Perhaps you knew him? He has proven himself cunning in his manipulation of the Freemen and seems to be trusted by the Red Templar's general. They played upon the hopes of the Freemen and then exploited them. The terms of their arrangement kept shifting, every time the Freemen promised more and more compensation for any inconvenience.
We found the remains of the Freemen in the area within an abandoned villa, a lead given by our Red Templar informant. In some ways, I was saddened to put an end to them, though they gave us no choice. Finding the journals of their leader, Maliphant, only furthered my sorrow. He was tired of seeing his fellow soldiers die for another's war, a war they believed pointless, and longed for freedom. They sold their souls to the Red Templars to gain the supplies they needed, but Maliphant was suspicious from the beginning. Then slowly, he watched his cause (perhaps once noble in its intention) corrupt and malign before his eyes as they gave themselves over bit by bit to the Red Templars.

There is something at the heart of the Red Templars, Cullen, something truly heinous, but we've yet to find the answer. Carroll's communiqués to his soldiers in the area hint at something occurring in Emprise du Lion, hints at that possibly being their base of operations even. What's more is they were attempting to capture giants within the Graves for unknown reasons. I fear what they are doing, Cullen. I do not know Samson, but I stared into the eyes of Corypheus; have stared into the eyes of the Red Templars and know that their is nothing they would not do to see their goals met. That terrifies me. We have lines we will not cross, but them? I do not think such morality exists within them.

That aside, another setback, but also possible advantage to us. As we were ambushed by the Red Templars, our camp near the elven ruin was ambushed by the Venatori. Many of the Dalish lost their lives, though the Inquisitor's family all survived. A few injuries, but no more. Barris and I had the foresight to leave behind most of the templars as we faced the Red Templars, knowing the effect red lyrium has upon them. Barris suffered, but he was determined to meet his corrupted brethren in battle.
If we had not left behind some of the battalion, I fear what would have happened. In the midst of the battle, one of the Venatori opened the elven ruin allowing us access. Solas believes the place to be called "Din'an Hanin", the "place where glory ends". It is the resting place of the Emerald Knights, those from whom the techniques of the Knight Enchanter originated from. We are planning on entering the ruin on the morrow to investigate what the Venatori may have been after, but Solas doubts that the tomb held what they sought. I inquired of him what he believes they are searching for, but as per his usual demeanor he gave no straight answer instead supplying that he has an idea, but is not certain yet. I must admit to some excitement to explore the tomb.

Two more reasons our time here is being extended are this: a dragon and a mystery. Fairbanks has asked the Inquisitor to put an end to a dragon that has been spotted several times in the area, concerned for the people he has tasked himself with protecting. On Fairbanks, it seems there is more to the man than previously believed, but the Inquisitor must decide what she wants to do with the information she has discovered. I am sure Sister Nightingale will discuss it with you and the Ambassador when word reaches her.
As to the mystery, some soldiers stumbled upon the remains of a young woman within a ravine that had thrown herself from a cliff. The young woman seems to have resided in a nearby chateau to rest as they were trying to escape the war. The entries within her journal hint at something demonic. The battalion and I have been tasked with seeing to the chateau, I more than willing if there is indeed a demon (or demons) residing within—Barris agreeing that this is what "templars are meant to do". Pray for us, my love, for I fear this demon has had its hold upon the place for some time. The Inquisitor wants it seen to as she is interested in possibly utilizing the abandoned homes for the Inquisition and for the refugees in the area. These villas are far more defensible than the current location the refugees occupy and there is no doubt that their numbers will only grow.

My hand is cramping. Maker knows how I miss you and wish we could discuss this all in person.

Yours always,

Talitha

Sitting at my desk, I wrote to her well into the evening, missing the ability to speak with her about all that was on my mind. The mention of Carroll had opened a pit in my stomach. The man had been in the throngs of lyrium addiction and it's addling affects last I'd seen him and now he was a high ranking officer in Samson's army? Then all that Alain and Ella had told me of Kirkwall. I did not doubt that Samson had been involved there as well. How many of my former brothers and sisters in arms had fallen for this? Had been manipulated into this? We had to find them. Anyone that was left.

In my anxiousness and missing Meira's calming presence even more because of it, I'd considered sleeping in the room she'd furnished for me, wondering if it would help me to feel closer to her, but as soon as I'd stepped foot in the hall, my eyes had gone to her door. I'd passed through it, feeling embarrassed as I climbed the stairs.
Preserved as she'd left it, I felt an aching loneliness as I recalled the only time I'd spent within. Felt as she kissed my knuckles, heard her heartbeat as I rested against her chest, wept as she recited the Chant as if the Maker himself were speaking it to me in answer to my wrestling with my faith not moments before. Then all that had happened the next day.
Unable to bear it any longer, I left. I opened the door to my room, only to find myself further swallowed by that loneliness. I shook my head and returned to my tower, knowing that as long as she was absent, I would be unable to utilize the room. It was different from the nights where I'd simply been too exhausted to climb the stairs. It proved to be too much in this instance as it made me long for her all the more.

As I collapsed upon my bed in the tower, I thought over the words of her letter. My one love. You are the only one I will ever love. You always have been...and always will be. Surely, she knew that I felt the same? I recalled Mia holding the ring out to me. As soon as I was able, I would arrange for us to visit them. We would visit them and I'd take her to my boyhood home and the lake. I'd time it to be after the trials so I could ask for her hand.
Would I have the courage? Though I did not doubt her love, would she accept me? Staring out the open ceiling to the stars above, I was struck again by the impossible fact that she loved me. As broken, as shameful as I was, she loved me anyway. I thank you, my Maker. Closing my eyes, I imagined her in my arms as she had been all those months ago in the inn in South Reach. Felt her warmth, her steady breathing, smelled her citrus and floral scent. How I longed for when we'd share a bed every night! Sleep beckoning me, my imagination ran as I felt Meira's hand caress my face. My blood went cold when a voice spoke that was not hers.

"Are you sure you won't hurt her?" The demon's voice murmured. "We both know what you truly are, sweet templar. We both know what you truly desire."

My eyes snapped open to find the demon on her side next to me, her hand running along her curves. I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming. "Begone!"

Her plump lips spread in a wide smile, showing her fanged teeth. "Come now, sweet thing. You know I speak the truth. We both know the secret thoughts you hold, the dark appetites within you."

"NO!" I shouted and scrambled out of the bed, falling onto the floor. "You do not know me."

Her arms embraced me as she pressed against my back. Heart thundering in my chest, her lips grazing my ear as she whispered, "I know you better than anyone." Her hand peeled away from my chest, in her palm a philter of lyrium glowed. "And we both know what you're really longing for."

I swallowed thickly, saliva flooding my mouth. Her arms held me tighter, her lips trailing down my neck as she purred. Maker, please! Please! I shut my eyes tight, body trembling as I was dragged back to Kinloch. "Leave me!"

"Mmm, sweetling. You're losing your edge." The demon chuckled breathily. "So scared, just as before, but oh so curious too. And you know it, the shame you fight against as your desire grows. So tantalizing."

"No!" I shouted, covering my ears. "No! Begone!"

The hard wood of my floor met my back before I felt her straddle me, her hands clasping my wrists before pinning them to the floor. Her breath hot on my face, the cloying scent of her beginning to overwhelm, the clawing screams of my dying friends tearing at the seams in my mind, I wrenched my eyes open. The grotesque scene of the ruined Kinloch Hold spread out around me, the weight of my templar armor heavy, but above me was not the demon, it was Meira. Paralyzed, it took my mind a moment to realize that upon her lips was lyrium, glowing as it dripped down her chin.
My breaths came out in ragged gasps, trembling beneath her, my eyes unable to look away from the lyrium upon her mouth. She leaned down to me, her lips nearly brushing mine. The smell of lyrium washed over me, muddling my senses. Shame coursed through me as I fought the temptation to kiss her. Her smile widened.

"Oh, my love. My lion," she purred. "Drink and feel restored. Drink and be mine. Drink and find peace."

Something hot burned through my veins, breaking the hold on me at the demon sullying Meira's terms of endearment for me. Growling, I head butted her in the face. Screeching, she stumbled away, the illusion dissipating.
Scrambling to my feet, pulling the dagger stored beneath my pillow, I charged her. Black blood poured from her now broken nose, hatred burning in her flame eyes. Baring her teeth as she hissed, her claws elongated.

"I have had enough of you," I spit. "There is nothing you could offer me, no temptation you could present that would sway me to sacrifice what I have now. I resisted you once, I will continue to do so."

"Oh, you tease," she sneered. "You cannot lie to me. You may resist, but little by little I feel your will chipping away."

"Begone, demon," I snarled. Hissing, she lunged at me. Using her momentum, I flipped her. Slamming onto her back, she grunted before I plunged my dagger into her throat. Gurgling and writhing beneath my grip, I was heaving in breaths. Closing my eyes as sweat poured down my forehead, I blinked them back open. A strangled cry tore from my throat as it was Meira bleeding out.

In horror, I watched as her bloodied mouth pulled into a smile. "Is this what you truly fear? Where your shame truly lies? That you wanted her dead for how I was able wield her against you?" She laughed. "Have you told her that yet? Have you told her the secret I know you hold?"

"Shut up!" I roared before stabbing her again. "I never wished that. Never!"

She kept laughing. "Wouldn't it be so much easier if she were dead? If she'd died in that cell? Or better yet, you'd actually killed her in the tower. You'd be free! Instead, you have to remember it all every time you see her face!" She cackled. "I wonder if she feels the same way about you?"

Rage unhinging, I kept stabbing until her laughter died away. The red in my vision fading, I found myself alone in my loft, the dagger stuck in the floorboard and the demon gone. Still shaking, I wrenched the knife free.
Staring at the cold metal reflecting the light of the moon, I watched as my hand shook. I turned my face to the gift Meira had given me in the opening to the night sky. Feeling ashamed, weak and missing her comfort, I sunk to my knees and wept.

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