TRIGGER WARNING! Interpersonal violence.

Skyhold felt empty without the Inquisitor and all his companions. But the Ambassador never lacked in tasks. For one thing, she had alliances to forge and gold to collect. Noble visitors came and went, their numbers swelling to an unprecedented degree following the successful Val Royeaux excursion. Josephine did her best to please each visitor, though she was aware of how some people – read: the Commander – felt about her work. But she did not doubt herself.

Doubt was for those with free time. And with remotely managing her family's business in addition to all of the Inquisition's diplomatic and administrative affairs, Josephine had no free time to fritter away. True, she had a moment of weakness in front of Cullen, wondering whether she had done the right thing by matching Tharin with Adelia de Verchiel. But she had not wavered since.

Certainty was not a guaranteed thing in these trying times. That was why it was necessary for Josephine to be certain about the decisions she made. And so, she was. She would march ever onward, be the best diplomat for the Inquisition, make the best choices for the Inquisition, and that was that.

After completing a thorough tour of Skyhold with a group of nobles from Ferelden and Orlais, Josephine returned to her desk to find a sealed message delivered by one of Leliana's agents.

It was from the Inquisition representative in Ostwick reporting a noteworthy development. Following the Inquisitor's announcement about the Trevelyan family's generous "gift" to the Orlesian Empire, Lucilla apparently had a stroke and fell into a coma. How the mighty had fallen so easily and so hard. While Josephine felt no sympathy for the hateful woman given how she treated Tharin, the Ambassador expected some sort of a blowback from the Trevelyans. Though only the Maker knew what form it would take.

Josephine climbed the rotunda to visit with Leliana, to discuss possible measures to insulate the Inquisition from the counterattack the Inquisitor's family was inevitably planning. But when she arrived at Leliana's desk, she found the Spymaster hunched over an insignificant piece of parchment. Her hands were pressed together.

Leliana looked up and grimaced. "I just received news from the Storm Coast." There was a shadow on her countenance. The shattered kind that only those close enough to her could see. The one that Josephine had become too used to seeing on Leliana since the Conclave ended in an explosion.

Feeling her heart drum ever quicker, Josephine asked, "Has the operation failed?"

"The tactical objective of the operation has been achieved. But…" Leliana exhaled, the heaviness of which spelled trouble. "We suffered a casualty. And the Qunari representative is most dissatisfied with the way the Inquisitor handled himself. He will recommend the Qunari retract their offer of alliance and disavow the Iron Bull, labeling him Tal-Vashoth. And…"

Aghast, Josephine blenched. "There's more?"

"The Inquisitor's placed Cassandra under arrest."

It took Josephine several seconds to fully digest the news. She croaked, "…What?"

Leliana once again sighed, the gathered hands pushing against each other forcefully. "The details are fuzzy. But Cassandra tried to burn Tharin from inside? I don't know. I have already sent a raven to confirm the message."

Slightly lightheaded, Josephine plunked on top of the desk and leaned in to whisper, "Cassandra would not have done that without a reason. Do you think she was trying to stop Tharin from doing something terrible?"

With her gaze firmly rooted to the parchment, Leliana whispered back, "In all likelihood, yes."

"Is it maybe the time to… rein the Inquisitor in? Like we talked about?"

The Spymaster shook her head. "I honestly cannot decide. I think it is prudent to wait for their return first and then gauge how Tharin is before making a decision. He at least deserves a chance to explain himself."

"But Cassandra–"

"–Will be fine. She is under arrest, which means Tharin intends to judge her in Skyhold. We will be able to convince him to let her go before it comes to something drastic."

Leliana's expression seemed to convey much faith in her own prediction of events to come. Yet, there was something about the Spymaster's demeanor, something indescribable but very much extant, that upset Josephine. She remembered the Commander's harsh words in the training ground of the Palais Impérial and thought them appropriate now: when it comes to the Inquisitor, you seem to miss the mark a lot…

Josephine nonetheless remained quiet. She nodded, slowly.

On the snow-covered trek leading up to Skyhold were the travelers from the Free Marches.

The rotund man now donned a fur-lined leather cloak yet shivered endlessly. He continuously pulled the cloak's collar up toward his chin. The old man, still covered with a ratty green cloak, was distracted, admiring the stone arch of the castle's main gate as they entered.

Inside the gate stood Inquisition soldiers checking incoming visitors and their luggage. The travelers stopped as they were approached by a young soldier. She attempted an authoritative look as she spoke in a voice that still had a glimmer of adolescence, "State your business."

The rotund man cleared his throat and spoke, his white breaths billowing in the frozen air, "I am the attendant of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick. I come bearing a message from his grace. Guide us to Ambassador Montilyet at once."

She nodded and turned only to turn back suddenly and point. "Who is the other man with you?"

The rotund man rolled his eyes and stated condescendingly, "He is my guard. I presume there is no rule against an envoy having a guard?"

The pomposity was apparently enough to flatten the young soldier's confidence. "No, ser. If you would follow me…"

The two men remained reticent as they were led to the great hall. Absolutely no words were spoken to the soldier, to each other.

The Inquisitor entirely ignored a series of ravens the Spymaster sent to confirm the news as his retinue traveled back to Skyhold. Each bird came back emptyhanded quite literally. In fact, Tharin locked down every means of communication at every camp and every stronghold he reached on his way back. This frustrated Leliana whose work totally relied on invariable flow of information, which in turn frustrated Josephine and Cullen to no end.

It was a week later on a bright morning when a thin queue of people and mounts showed up on the other side of the bridge connecting Skyhold to the rest of the vale.

The advisors greeted the Inquisitor and the returning companions at the main gate. Leliana observed the dispirited looking companions entering the courtyard, especially the Iron Bull. Cassandra looked resolute in spite of the bound hands and the dark circles under her eyes attesting to how fatiguing the journey had been.

As soon as the Inquisitor entered the Spymaster's view, he barked orders to the two soldiers guarding the gate, "Escort Seeker Pentaghast to her room. She is to be placed under house arrest and is not to leave the room." He then turned to Leliana and spoke as though nothing was out of place, "We have much to discuss, but I need to freshen up first."

Leliana glanced at Cassandra as soldiers helped her off her mount. "I agree. We need to discuss the situation with the Seeker."

Josephine appended, "Not to mention, your distant cousin, the new Bann Trevelyan, has sent a representative on his behalf. He says he is here to monitor the Inquisition's negotiations with Tevinter on tariffs." She took a deep breath. "We should meet with him as soon as possible. Figure out what kind of reprisal the Trevelyans have planned."

"Rest first, then the war council," emphasized the Inquisitor with an inexplicably cool countenance as he dismounted. And he would not be denied, certainly not by the Spymaster.

Tharin washed up as slowly as possible. He did not look forward to the inevitable clash with the advisors on the issue of Cassandra. He even took a short nap before he left his quarters and gathered Cullen and Leliana for the war council.

They found the Ambassador absorbed in a diplomatic dispatch in her salon. When the three approached her desk, Josephine looked up and said, "Ah, finally. There you are." She eyed at the Inquisitor's unkempt hair with a little crinkle of disapproval on her brow.

"I am here like you wanted," drawled Tharin. "You said we have a visitor from Ostwick?"

"Two, actually." Josephine motioned to her attendant who nodded and left the salon in hasty steps. "I told them you would meet with them as soon as you are back. They should be here when we start the council."

The emissary and his companion, in fact, arrived with Josephine's attendant and a soldier before the council properly got underway.

As the Ambassador promptly ushered the escorts out to ensure that no important matter of the Inquisition would be discussed within their earshot, the rotund emissary bowed deeply and spoke in a strangely affected accent, "My lord, it is a great honor to finally meet you in person. The Bann has spoken highly of your heroic deeds across Thedas and looks forward to–"

Tharin did not care for niceties, especially when the repercussions of the debacle on the Storm Coast were still unfolding. Indeed, he had more important matters to attend to. Thus, he rotated his hand impatiently and interrupted in a flat tone, "You can dispense with the formalities."

The emissary looked stumped for a moment only to begin again in a bizarre mixture of various accents, "Bann Trevelyan has sent me to keep him apprised of the Inquisition's negotiations with Tevinter." He took out a sealed envelope from the pocket.

The Inquisitor extended his hand as he approached the emissary and his guard. "Excellent. Let me see the letter."

Tharin blinked. Chaos broke out.

Everything fell silent as though Tharin had gone deaf. He saw the guard shove the emissary aside and draw a dagger from his left hip. The emissary lost his balance, crashed against the map table, and clumsily fell to the floor.

Over the years, the young man had had a few experiences of time slowing down to a crawl, each second stretched to minutes, and this was one of those instances. As the dagger closed in on his nose, Tharin stepped back. He saw the nicks and irregularities on the blade, the layers of grime under the fingernails of the man wielding it.

"Tharin!" called out a familiar deep voice from behind, breaking the silence.

He felt a hand on his shoulder violently pulling him back. The force of the inertia had him smack against the masonry of the wall. Pain emanated from his side.

It was Cullen who pulled Tharin away from danger, who charged at the assassin. The Commander tackled the man on his chest and knocked him off his feet.

The two men wrestled. Cullen tried to hold down the assassin's wrist to disarm him, but the assassin swung his right arm wildly about. There were grating sounds of steel on steel followed by Cullen's guttural scream.

The next moment, the Commander had gotten ahold of the assassin's head and bashed it repeatedly against the stone floor. Blood oozed and the assassin's body went limp.

Like a hawk swooping down from above, Leliana had rounded the map table and appeared on Cullen's side as he held onto the unconscious head with ragged breaths. She put her foot down on the assassin's forearm, bent down to snatch the dagger, and concealed it in her cloak. Relieved, Cullen then moved off of the assassin and sat with his legs crossed.

"Cul, are you all right?!" As he dashed to Cullen's side, Tharin turned to yell at Josephine on the other side of the table, "Get Fiona!"

Frozen until a moment ago, Josephine ran out. Meanwhile, Leliana took out a string from inside her cloak – perhaps a bow string – and began to fasten the unconscious man's hands together.

Tharin knelt down next to Cullen. The Commander was injured. As Cullen held his left cheek, blood overflowed. He still curved his lips upward. "I am fine, really. It is but a scratch."

The young man whispered in a breaking voice, "You… saved my life."

With his face turning serious, Cullen replied, "Your life is worth infinitely more than that of anybody else."

Tharin had no words to add. He felt something akin to lightning pass through his body. His brain went haywire as little spots of light appeared in his vision like faraway stars on a night sky. He engulfed Cullen in an intense embrace.

The Inquisitor inhaled and exhaled a deep breath as he stood up. His legs wobbled. Now on his feet, he looked around to find the emissary still on the floor, crouched over with his face hidden behind his hands and trembling. Tharin barely contained the urge to kick the man's rear.

After getting his wound tended to by Fiona and wiping the blood off his hands on his torn surcoat, Cullen shifted his attention back to the war council with his upper left cheek obscured by a bulky strip of bandage. The cut was deep, and despite Fiona's extraordinary ability as a healer, the break in the skin did not close all the way.

The soldier who had guided the emissary and the would-be assassin into the war council came back and took the two away trussed up many times over. If only she had not been hurried out, she might have remembered to frisk the assassin. Her face was contorted in obvious guilt that no one in the war room felt necessary to ameliorate. Because those in the war room had other things to worry about.

Perhaps atoning for her mistake of forcing the soldier out, Josephine refused to have her attendant scrub away the pool of blood. Instead, she had her fetch a mop from the kitchen and did the work herself. In no time, the blood was gone. Well, except for the bits that seeped into the cracks in between the stones. Leliana was staring outside the latticed window at the clear sky. Contemplative, obviously plotting for whatever was to come next.

The Inquisitor rounded the map table to approach Cullen and began to stroke his left arm. He inquired with a frown, "Cul, are you quite all right?"

"Yes, I am, thanks to Fiona. It will hardly leave a scar." Cullen turned to Fiona and nodded, showing his gratitude.

Fiona was about to exit the wicket after the soldier but halted to explain, "You are most welcome, Commander. But I am afraid there will be a scar." Her airy Orlesian accent echoed in the arched war room, almost as though she were announcing something fundamentally lifechanging. She then bowed lightly and left.

Cullen managed a chuckle. "I now have a matching set on both sides of my face."

Tharin pursed his lips before he said bitterly, "That's not funny."

Cullen felt his face crumple. "I-I'm sorry."

He saw Tharin's visage immediately soften. The young man turned his gaze to the floor and apologized, "No, no, I am sorry. It's just that you could have died protecting me."

"I doubt that." Cullen shrugged and rapped his armor a couple times, doing his utmost to disregard the holes on his tunic and surcoat from the attack.

Tharin ran his hand on Cullen's arm once again before sighing. "Well, I am thankful that you got away with just one cut."

At that moment, Leliana's voice rang as she stood rooted to the spot, looking away, "So, if we take this event at its face value, this is obviously the Bann's doing."

Slowly regaining her composure, Josephine set the bloody mop aside and spoke up, "That much is obvious. But why would he do something so transparent and so reckless? What does he have to gain?"

Tharin scoffed. "I've met the new Bann. He is not exactly one of the best and the brightest. You said Lucilla has succumbed to a coma?"

"I've yet to receive the final confirmation from Ostwick's city officials, but according to our representative, yes, that is the case."

Tharin's hand gently pushed Cullen on his back, bringing him toward the map table. Cullen felt the spot grow hot. He had to tell himself off to focus on the matter at hand.

Probably unaware of how Cullen was feeling, the Inquisitor speculated, "We have ruined the Trevelyans financially. And with his mother in a coma, the Bann needed to lash out at me. Lucilla obviously would not be in any position to stop her son from doing so. I do not believe he had a more complex thought than that."

"How would you like us to proceed?" asked Leliana as she sauntered over to the center of the chamber.

Tharin began immediately, like he had been planning for this eventuality for a long time, "We go after the Trevelyans' grain monopoly in Tevinter. That would devastate what little financial leverage they have left and finish them off politically too. Losing political reputation would be a death blow to social climbers like Lucilla and the new Bann."

Leliana nodded in apparent agreement. "My agents are at your disposal."

"Fine. Let us begin by spreading a rumor in Tevinter that the grain donated by the Trevelyans were filled with sand and other inedible debris. And perhaps another malicious rumor regarding their trade practices. That should put a rather significant dent on their mercantile repute."

With his hand still firmly attached to the back of the Commander, the Inquisitor turned toward the Ambassador. "Josephine, you then suggest to Tevinter that breaking the Trevelyans' monopoly on certain kinds of grain would allow the Imperium to raise the tariffs since more competition would lower the overall price of grain."

A concern appeared on Josephine's mien. "Would it not affect the Inquisition's standing as well? You did make a very public promise of lower tariffs to the Trevelyans."

The hand on Cullen's back had been moving all this time. Slowly but surely. A soothing touch that was interminable. And it vexed Cullen. Tharin nevertheless continued, "Ruining their mercantile repute comes in handy for this very reason. We announce that despite the blatant falsehood in the rumor, the pervasiveness of it has made it altogether impossible to negotiate with the Imperium. We ask the Magisterium to confer a most favored status for the Trevelyans for next five years instead."

The Inquisitor snorted in palpable scorn. "Not to say that the Trevelyans will survive to see the end of those five years. With their grain monopoly broken, the whole enterprise will go under within three at most."

Josephine finished the thought, "But… it would not be the Inquisition's fault that you failed to fulfill the promise. It is the Trevelyans' for not stemming the tide of misinformation. And we save face by having Tevinter confer the most favored trading status."

The Spymaster announced, "The Inquisition agents shall carry out your order. You will see tangible results within a month."

The Ambassador added, "And the Inquisition representatives will see to the negotiations with the Magisterium. This is entirely doable."

After lifting her writing tablet and tapping on it with her quill, Josephine inquired, "Now that we have a definitive plan to counter the Trevelyans in a larger scale, what do we do with the emissary and the… assassin?"

Cullen finally spoke up, "I could smell lyrium on the assassin's breath. He is probably a former templar turned mercenary."

"No doubt the Bann's asinine attempt at ironic levity," observed Leliana.

"I suggest we separate the assassin from the Trevelyans. Let it be known that the man was following his own secret agenda," the Spymaster asserted. When Cullen gave her a questioning look, she explicated at length, "Linking them together would have the effect of jeopardizing the Inquisitor's outwardly harmonious relationship with his 'family,' which will mar the gift of generosity the Inquisition made to Orlais and lessen the political goodwill we have."

Josephine raised her brows. "Severing their connection would give us more elbowroom on what to do with the assassin too, which still leaves us with the question."

Tharin dropped his hand from Cullen, which Cullen noted with not an insignificant amount of disappointment. The young man then clasped his hands behind his back and circled around the map table once over. Only then did he proclaim, "They will both die. By my hand." Cullen thought that ominous was not quite severe enough of an adjective to describe Tharin's tone then.

Josephine blinked. "Both… You mean, the emissary too?"

"Yes."

The Ambassador soughed, clearly exasperated. "Inquisitor, you let Gereon Alexius live. You did not even render him Tranquil despite all his charges. And if you remember, they included an attempted assassination on your life as well as apostasy and attempted enslavement. This man has repeatedly said he had nothing to do with this attempt on your life. How does he deserve a severer response than Alexius?"

Feeling fairly agitated, and not just because Tharin's hand was gone, Cullen intervened, "I quite agree. And to be frank, I do not even think the assassin deserves death. All he managed to do was to leave me with a cut. It will heal. Compared to Alexius's crimes, this is practically nothing."

And Tharin was obstinate. "No! We need to send the Bann a message. In fact, we need to send everyone a message. The Inquisitor and his advisors are not to be trifled with."

"An execution of an emissary will end up alienating our allies and provoke our enemies even more. Please reconsider, my lord," pleaded Josephine.

Leliana had been quiet for a few minutes, but now she chimed in, "This doesn't necessarily make the Inquisition look strong. Josie is right. You should reconsider."

A booming voice echoed. "Enough!" Tharin folded his arms and seethed, "All of you, you have given me the right to judge those who have committed crimes against the Inquisition. And I find public executions a fitting punishment for both the emissary and the assassin. That is all."

But the discussion was not finished. Not until the war council deliberated on the situation with Cassandra. And it was Leliana who braved the topic. "What about Cassandra?"

The Inquisitor glowered at the Spymaster. "What about her?"

"What is your plan?"

"I have not decided, though I have a few ideas."

The Commander took careful steps toward the Inquisitor as if he were approaching a wild animal. In a soft tone that belied his thumping heart, Cullen entreated, "Tharin, you must show clemency. Let Cassandra go. Let her resume her duties. She is one of the most important members of the Inquisition. Without her, we wouldn't be where we are today."

Tharin growled and snapped, "I know that! That is precisely why she must be punished. How dare she try to destroy everything we have accomplished, destroy the Inquisition?! How dare she attempt to harm me?"

Leliana commented tetchily, "The Inquisitor is not the Inquisition."

Tharin laughed viciously. "I beg to differ. Do any of you have a glowing hand that can close rifts and combat the Elder One?"

Utter silence engulfed the war room. The Ambassador had her eyes glued to the map in front of her. The Spymaster scowled at the Inquisitor with a furrowed brow but did not speak out. The Commander… Well, he was lost.

He wanted to be understanding. He truly did. After all, his love for Tharin shone even through the thick darkness within him. But this felt like another line being crossed.

Cullen certainly did not have a good answer to resolve the situation peacefully and to everyone's satisfaction. He was impotent. Outside of planning for troop movements, training recruits and volunteers, and leading the army, he was just an incapable fool.

But even knowing that, even accepting his ineptitude, he knew he had to try somehow. To save Tharin and the Inquisition. He agonized over the question, How do I do that?

Following what was surely an eternity of silence, the Inquisitor finally spat, "I didn't think so."

END NOTE

*With everything on fire* This is fine.

Next up, things come undone.

PLEASE NOTE! I will be taking the week of Halloween off completely, which means the posting schedule for all my fics will be shifted by a week. The final chapter of Where the Waves Crest (波の上り詰める所) will be posted on Sunday, November 7. The next chapter of Honor and Will will be posted three weeks from today on Sunday, November 14! Thank you for your patience, and have a spoooooky Halloween!