"Give up… just let me in…" a sultry voice whispered as Cullen woke up kneeling on a cold floor. He looked around. The room was dark but felt somehow familiar. Kinloch Tower. He inhaled sharply and pain radiated through his body.

"Let go, Templar… there is no use in resisting. Look at me. Look. "

An elegant tall woman in a traditional mage robe stood before him. Auburn hair fell on her shoulders in waves like a waterfall.

The Hero of Ferelden. Dorothy Amell. Not her again. Instead of her own hazel eyes, this pair was glowing with unfamiliar darkness, and her voice was laced with a terrifying demonic distortion.

Cullen closed his eyes tightly and started to recite the verses which saved him from this nightmare countless times before.

"Oh forget the Maker, Cullen." The unnatural voice purred and her cold hands touched his chest and slid behind his neck, in his hair, and then back again to rest on his chest. He felt his body tremble in response, his heart beating faster.

"Open your eyes. Touch me… I want you so much, Cullen. Why would you treat me this way?"

"I said OPEN YOUR EYES, Templar." The demonic voice growled and his eyes were forced open by an unseen force. She was there, inches away from him. The robe was gone, her chest laid bare before his eyes as the demon who appeared behind the woman caressed Dorothy's bare breasts.

Cullen breathed heavily. He felt his pants getting tighter. No. Not again. He cannot give in.

"Oh, the Hero of Ferelden is not enough anymore?... Would you rather look at me then?" Demon purred and changed its shape and voice. Cullen's heart skipped as he stared into sterling grey which blended perfectly with a violet ring around the pupil of the intelligent eyes. Dark brown hair with white locks in them was floating unnaturally around her head. He felt a cold sweat form underneath his shirt as she proceeded to fondle Dorothy's bare chest again.

No. Not her. Why now? Why…

"Oh, you know why, my sweet Commander. You cannot hide your desires from ME, remember?!" A suppressed moan escaped his throat as he heard Grace's voice call his name and he felt her hand slide up his thigh.

No!

Blessed are they who stand before

The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

The demon with Grace's form started to take off her shirt. His body trembled in an aching wave of lust as he was forced to watch the two phantasms make out and touch each other.

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.

In their blood, the Maker's will is written.

"Do you want us, Cullen? Do you need us?" They kissed deeply, tongues dancing sloppily and he groaned, fighting his arousal as he continued to recite the chant frantically in his head.

O Maker, hear my cry:

Guide me through the blackest nights.

Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.

Make me to rest in the warmest places.

The demons approached him and he found himself standing up as they touched him, caressing his throbbing bulge through his pants. He felt their quick hands everywhere and fell to his knees again in a desperate attempt to escape their touch.

No… no…

O Creator, see me kneel:

For I walk only where You would bid me.

Stand only in places You have blessed.

Sing only the words You place in my throat.

"Still you resist? Still, you reject us and mock us with your petty Maker nonsense?" The phantasm which took Dorothy's form turned to face him and grinned wickedly, showing her unnatural demonic pointy teeth.

"Oh, if you don't like watching us like this, maybe you'll have to learn some appreciation the hard way." She hissed at him as she suddenly clawed at Grace's throat, ripping it open. Grace stood there and blood poured from the wound all over her bare torso as her hands lifted frantically up to cover the wound. Another slash on the milky skin appeared followed by more on her back and she started to call for him desperately, he heard her shriek in pain.

"Save me, Cullen. Please.. help me…" She cried out and he suddenly found himself holding her bloody body in his arms. Her empty violet eyes stared at him in a silent horror… Her throat was ripped open, her chest full of open wounds, white broken ribs poking out from some of them. The blood frothed at her lips as she gurgled incomprehensibly and then there was silence...

"Nooo…" Cullen sat quickly up in his tent, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. His groin was still throbbing with arousal but he felt his stomach twist as he fought the urge to vomit, caused by the memory of Grace's wounded body and the smell of blood as he held her in the nightmare.

His head was pounding with a strong headache and the only reasonable thing he could think of was getting up. He put on leather leggings and a simple white linen shirt, grabbed a folded sheet of linen cloth, and got out of his tent. The sun had already risen and Cullen deeply inhaled crisp mountain air as he went straight to the partially frozen lake. He took his shirt off and splashed his face and upper torso with icy water, then quickly dried himself off with the cloth and got dressed again and proceeded to shake off the lingering horror by immersing himself in vigorous exercise.

He lunged himself on the ground and began with push-ups.

A good hour after, Cullen stood sweaty in the empty training grounds and felt much better. He changed out of his wet clothes and made his way to the Chantry's kitchen to grab some food. Eating in solitude was an easy decision for him. The nightmares always made him avoid everyone. This was a thing he did since he was a young boy - running away to the comfort of silence and solitude always calmed his racing thoughts.

Even though he tried hard, he could not shake Grace off his mind. He felt like thinking about her was wrong, his mind kept coming back to the day he carried her all the way to the forward camp… her weight in his arms, her body pressed tightly against his breastplate… the smell of roses and thunderstorm, which was carved into his mind and already tied with her only… The memories of the nightmare were already almost gone.

He thought about the walk they shared last night. Talking to her felt so… right... he pondered as he walked to the field encampment. He changed direction at the last minute as he decided that his tent would bring the horrors of the last night back again and went straight for the stables.

As Cullen sat on the straw bales that were piled in the farthest corner of the stables and ate, he wondered whether their Lady Herald was already awake and couldn't help himself to hope for seeing her before they left. He wanted to erase the grim image from the nightmare by her real image. Alive. Unharmed. And dressed… he recalled the image of her naked form and his pulse quickened. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes tight to get rid of the memory.

Meanwhile, Grace was braiding her hair and finished packing up for the journey to Val Royeaux. She's never been to a big city except for one time when father took her to Kirkwall with him. She was just a little girl back then and the only thing she could recall from the trip was the feeling of smallness as she stared up at the tall buildings.

She already got her food sometime before and was about to go to the stables to tack the dark bay mare up.

She put her cloak on and picked up spacious leather saddlebags which Harritt provided her with and which were packed for a few weeks. When Grace arrived at the stables she hung the bags on the stall door of her mare and inhaled deeply, feeling content. The stables were empty, the rest of the horses were already out, and being taken care of by their soldiers. It created a perfect opportunity to spend a little time by herself in the busy village.

She dreamt of him last night. The nightmare was gruesome and involved Ostwick and the rebellion… The dream was sickening. It perfectly reflected her fears but despite yesterday's revelation, she couldn't help herself but to think about his eyes and the small scar above his lip which stretched everytime he smirked… he deserved a chance. He was not acting as a ruthless mage jailor. And the best way to get rid of a post nightmare hangover was overpowering it with a smile and some wine helped too. She felt lightheaded.

The spirited mare was dancing at her stall nervously, but Grace paid no attention to it. Instead, she patted the neck of the animal here and there and began to hum absently as she kept brushing the horse, completely oblivious to the cling of metal armor and approaching footsteps.

"So… is singing to horses something specific to the house Trevelyan, or is it your own tactic to keep this demon at ease?" A velvety deep voice came from the aisle and she felt a warmth pool over her chest when she realized whose voice it was.

"And good morning to you too, Commander." She replied mischievously. "Or is it Lord Stablehand now?" Grace added and peeked from behind the mare's hind end to smile at him. Her mare was definitely not on the same note there and she let Cullen know what she thought much differently. Her ears pointed backwards and she made a disgusted sound while shaking her head, trying to shoo away the interloper.

Grace giggled at the sight.

He had to admit that she was beautiful… Cullen thought as he admired the woman before him. Her foxy smirk played on her face now… The tight, front laced leather armor complimented her bust, her hair was braided and violet eyes sparkled as she gave him a dashing smile.

A smile tugged at his scarred lip as well, he could not fight it.

"Good morning Lady Herald. You did not answer my question."

"Oh. I see. Well, some questions are better left unanswered. Or… Do you really think that I am the type to go around and give away Trevelyan secrets just like that?!" She teased back and tightened the girth of the saddle. After she was done a sly grin appeared on her face as she added "Those are definitely not for free… but maybe one day I'd be willing to share… considering you still would be interested… and considering the price is interesting enough."

Maker… was she flirting with him? She bit her lip and grinned in a sudden realization of her inner turmoil. She needed the distraction after the bad night plus the wine she had only encouraged this behaviour in her. That felt like more than enough reasons.

Grace walked to the stall's door and picked up the bridle. She finally got a good view of Cullen who was leaning his shoulder against the doorframe of the opposite empty stall. His eyes watched her keenly, but his signature crooked smile could not hide the tiredness on his face. He looked as if he was awake the whole night. She must've looked the same…

"And don't call her a demon. She has a name… I started calling her Eluvia, by the way."

He looked at her curiously. "Like the constellation?"

"I am quite surprised that you are familiar with that, Commander." She smiled. "Yes. The constellation of sacrifice and less commonly known… Razikale. But I, unfortunately, do not have enough time to explain why exactly I chose that name." She gestured towards the saddlebags and her traveling attire.

"Of course. I didn't mean to distract you… I'll gladly hear it next time." Cullen couldn't help but stare at her, his smile not leaving his face.

"Next time it is, then… So… tell me, what is the Commander doing here with a mere mage like me?" She continued in her teasing voice as she put the bridle on.

"The Commander has no business over here. I, however… I have to admit that I was just trying to spend the last few moments alone before we left. I was not expecting any… mages to appear."

She raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. "Is something wrong?"

"No... no… nothing." He lied and straightened himself up.

"Just… be careful over there. We have no idea what will be waiting for you in the capital." He added, looking at her with a serious expression on his face.

She felt a shiver as her violet eyes met with amber of his again and a small blush appeared on her face.

"Oh, I have already heard that countless times yesterday… I will keep Varric safe for y'all, don't worry." Grace gave him a playful wink and a reassuring smile as she proceeded to leave the stall to pick up her traveling coat and a scarf. She put the clothes on, grabbed her staff, and as she led the mare out of the stable, she smiled at him for the last time, trying to sidetrack him from her flushed cheeks. "Excuse me, but I am running late already… See you in a few weeks Commander."

The rest of her party and their horses were already waiting for her at the western road.

"That is not what I…" she didn't even let him finish. Cullen followed her out of the stables, watched her hop on the horse graciously and ride off to join the rest of them. She glanced back one time to catch him still looking at her, much to Varric's amusement.

Cullen grabbed his sword at his tent and went to wait at the gate as the troops gathered.

Horses that master Dennet provided were pulling a few carts loaded with tools and some basic material for the watchtowers and he checked the convoy before they were bound to depart.

He also exchanged a few last words with his second in command Captain Rylen, who was left in charge of Haven's remaining soldiers and led the troops towards the Hinterlands.

The gruesome images from his nightmare were gone. Now that was seriously more than he could wish for. He smiled at the memory of their small exchange in the stables. She was an interesting woman, to put it lightly. He already saw that she was stubborn and outspoken, rough edges rounded by the constant sarcasm, which he didn't mind at all. He was captivated by her intelligence and her shining violet-grey eyes along with her sly smile and cute nose - everything about her seemed so unique. He found himself wishing selfishly to talk to her more - to get to know her better as he recalled the look in her eyes when he asked about the events of Ostwick… Cullen had a feeling that he was not the only one to hide a very dark past. Maybe she could understand? Maybe...


Val Royeaux was fascinating. Grace stared in awe at the marble-paved streets. There were flowers everywhere and the city smelled of spring and fresh bread. Their small party entered through the front gate and before they were able to make it to the main square, they stumbled upon one of Leliana's scouts.

The woman looked distressed.

"Lady Herald! The Chantry clerics are waiting for you with the Templars at the market. The people are hoping they will protect them against… you My Lady!" She breathed heavily.

Cassandra frowned. "The Templars were not supposed to partake in this... "

"At least now we know…" Grace shrugged. "The people are afraid of a mage… what a surprising turn of events." She added with her usual sarcasm, which made both Varric and Solas chuckle. "I mean look at me." She gestured as she shrugged and opened her arms. "A crazy heretic to end them all! And my hair looks weird! It's multi-colored!" She gasped theatrically. "The horror!"

A few moments after they arrived at the market square to be greeted by a preaching Revered Mother and her clerics, Grace watched in dread as a patrol of Templars marched to the small square and one of them grounded the speaking Mother with a well-aimed and very violent punch. The crowd around the tiny stage shrieked in panic as the rest of the priestesses surrounded the revered mother on the ground and started praying desperately.

Grace tried to make them see that the Inquisition - that she was not a threat. Tried to make them all see that the Breach was the real problem here… It was all for nothing, however. The Templars would not listen. Not that she ever really believed they would… At least their Commander would get off her back for trying to pursue mages, she hoped.

"Lord Seeker Lucius?" Cassandra called out to the Templar who Grace assessed to be the one in charge.

"You will not address me!" He spitted back as he looked Cassandra coldly in the eye. "Who do you think you are?! What do you think you are doing?! Harboring heretics, founding unlawful organizations and who knows what else… You should be ashamed! The Templars have left the Chantry to purge the mages. The only remaining authority is me. I will make the Templar order get the recognition and independence we deserve. We march. Val Royeaux is not worthy of our protection."

And before they were even able to react, the Templars were gone.

"That went well… and particularly quick," Varric grumbled quietly as they watched them leave the market.

The Seeker folded her arms. "We need to report back to Haven. Whoever this was, I refuse to believe it was Lord Seeker Lucius. The one I know is a man of reason..."

"I have no idea who he is or was. All I can say is that I don't like him… Can we at least look around the City before we head out?" Grace looked disappointed. "Please Cassandra…"

"Alright. Half an hour. Not more. We are not here to do sightseeing..." She sighed at Grace, seemingly annoyed, but there was a little recognizable spark of joy in her eyes. Even though Cassandra would never admit it, it seemed like she was glad to allow her mind to wander for a moment.

Walking around turned out to be a good idea after all. Not only they received a strange message delivered to them pinned to an arrow. It invited them to meet a rather racy elf, whose name was Sera, and who apparently really wished to join them, and just as they were leaving the capital, a leader of mage's rebellion, Grand Enchanter Fiona herself stopped them on the way. She invited them to Redcliffe.

They left the city with mixed feelings. The party agreed to report to Haven and discuss the possibilities. Leliana's scouts would surely let her know before they arrive and Grace hoped that the council would have enough time to think everything through. Contacting the mages was the obvious option now. After seeing the Templar order abandon Val Royeaux she wasn't willing to discuss the matters with Lord Seeker Lucius, who seemed to be happier to see her and the rest of the Inquisition burn at a stake than to help them close the Breach.

And there was the possibility of mages from Ostwick being in Redcliffe with the rebellion, which hopefully meant someone would listen.

When they arrived at Haven a messenger informed them that Josephine and Leliana were already waiting for them at the Chantry. She looked around and realized that Commander must be still in the Hinterlands, building towers and bringing horses back… Well, at least there will be no argument about mage rebellion, she thought, but couldn't help herself to feel a little disappointed that he is not present.

"It's a shame that Templars abandoned their senses as well as the City."

"Well, trust me Leliana, Lord Seeker Lucius seemed like a completely different man. There must be something going on. And I suspect the war has nothing to do with it..."

"At least we have the opening to approach both the Templars and the mages safely."

Grace blinked at Josephine's remark. She thought that the Templars were out of the game for good. She couldn't help herself but to speak out.

"I probably misheard here? The Templars are still considered safe and sane?"

Leliana shook her head. "Lucius has taken the order somewhere… but to do what? The reports from my agents are odd indeed. I even lost contact with some of them…" The spymaster folded her arms. "The mages are our safest option. What happened at Val Royeaux should provide enough warning to us."

"It still does not mean that all of the order would support the Lord Seeker. We should look into it. I'm certain there would be some Templars willing to cooperate." Cassandra stated.

"Or the Herald could simply go to Redcliffe instead," Josephine added.

"The mages' rebellion could be ten times worse and the Grand Enchanter's invitation might be just a trap… A way to get the Herald over there and to gain an advantage by capturing her. " Cassandra was frowning and her posture clearly showed her opinion. "And the sudden change in Lucius' behavior is truly concerning to me." She added.

Grace frowned and finally spoke out. "Can we please stop bickering and make a decision?"

"And what would you suggest, Lady Herald?" Leliana narrowed her eyes like a cat and smirked at her.

"A Templar punching a Chantry Mother to the ground in front of a whole crowd is the last thing that would evoke safety to me… I say, we approach the mages. In contrast to the Templars, Grand Enchanter Fiona invited us to Redcliffe. There might even be some of my acquaintances from Ostwick among the rebels."

She ran a hand through her hair nervously and looked at the council.

Cassandra seemed conflicted. Leliana and Josephine were looking at her, silent agreement in their eyes.

Leliana was the one to break the creeping silence. "There is another matter to discuss. I have received reports on the sudden Grey Warden disappearance throughout the whole south. We have tracked one warden named Blackwall, who is stationed in the Hinterlands. He might have some information. Also, there is a mercenary group which arrived from the Storm Coast led by a qunari who calls himself The Iron Bull. They wish to join our cause."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "A qunari? Alright… I'm not asking any questions... I'm definitely not the one to look a gift dragon in their mouth... And regarding that warden, I suppose we can meet him on our way to Redcliffe."

Josephine hid a smirk and nodded. "Good. You already did a great job at acquiring agents in the Hinterlands. There is no one more suitable for it. And we can consider other options in the meantime."

Cassandra sighed. "I really hope we are not going to regret this… I still require some agents to investigate the Templar situation…"

Even though Cassandra didn't agree fully, they will try contacting the mages. Her gut was telling her that it was the right choice. After the meeting Grace made her way towards the Haven's gate, to take a walk. They were not heading out until tomorrow, and resting after a long journey was very welcome.

The snow was covering most of the ground, even though it was almost spring. The mountain climate was so different to the one of Ostwick, the one that she was used to. Ostwick was located by the sea, so any snow was unthinkable. She remembered her awe when they approached the Frostback mountains while traveling to the Conclave. The sparkling white all around them was taking her breath away.

"Hey, Specter!" She turned around to see Varric grinning at her from his usual spot by his tent and a firepit not far from the inn and a gate. She realized she must have looked like a ghoul walking mindlessly towards the gate.

She smirked at him absently and put her joking tone on. "Hey, handsome!"

"The Commander is not here yet, they are still at Hinterlands, safeguarding the farmlands. You would not find him there."

"And what tells you, that I was headed there to look for him?" She crossed her arms.

"Oh, you know. Writer's intuition."

"Then I dare to say your intuition got it very wrong."

"So you are free to grab a drink with The Dwarf!" Varric grinned at her cheekily.

"I was actually thinking about taking a walk and then reading one of the books I found in that Templar encampment we cleared a few weeks ago…"

"I'd say you need something else… You need to smile more. Come on, we walk all the time. Plus you need a little break from the Templars. I'd be only willing to accept your rejection, Specter, if you wanted to find a certain ex-Templar, but alas, he's not here."

She felt a rising blush on her face. "Why would I want to look for the Commander, Varric?! Wha-Why would l?...And I am smiling a lot! Besides, I don't think a beer could fix this mess we're all in." She argued.

"Yep, you are. The smile does not reach your eyes though. They deserve it too. And I never said that drinks are supposed to fix it. They can dull the bad stuff however."

Grace gave him one tired but honest smile.

"I have a feeling I'd turn into an alcoholic sooner… but fine. I have to admit that I'm glad you're here to save me, you're right, walking can wait till later. Let's go."

They took a seat at the mostly empty inn by a separate table. It was too early for the inn to be full of people but Grace was still not comfortable with any attention everyone gave her wherever she appeared. Even though the people of Haven were used to seeing her around, this was the first time she entered the tavern, so all the heads were looking in her direction and there were some hesitant whispers. The ever present bard Maribelle luckily had enough mercy in her, so she kept playing her songs and the atmosphere had no chance to shift to uncomfortable. Grace gave her a thankful smile.

"Relax, I'd be staring too, if I saw a woman like you in a place like this." Varric elbowed her side and she squirmed in response. He ordered a mead for her and an ale for himself.

"You mean a woman with a glowing hand and a weird hair color?"

"No, I meant a non rebell-y mage who is rumored to be the one to save so many asses. And there's the lightning glass and pride demon story of course."

She chuckled. "I always thought it would make a great party trick."

Flissa put their drinks on the table and Varric tossed her a payment, before he shoved the mead into Grace's hands. Then he raised his mug of ale to clink with her.

"To your magical sparkly spells and other general ass-saving qualities." He proclaimed festively and took a swig.

"Speaking of which… Specter, as a writer, I'm curious. I have never seen such a trick… Is this a thing in Ostwick?"

She looked at him sheepishly from behind her mead.

"Not really… Storm magic has always been my thing and I have been allowed to focus on researching it…"

"That is quite unusual. Kirkwall Circle has never been so benevolent about anything unexplored and progressive."

"Yes... I've heard that…" She paused for a brief moment to take a sip. The mead was spicy and sweet and she felt warmth radiating from within her chest already. "To be exact… we heard a lot about Kirkwall Circle after what happened…"

"You mean after Blondie blew our Chantry up along with the Grand Cleric? I always knew he's gonna make a mess out of his life… Never thought he'll make a mess of our lives too." Varric grinned and shifted in his chair a bit.

Grace widened her eyes at Varric. "Are you telling me that you really know the mage who caused it? The one who traveled with The Champion of Kirkwall?"

"So many questions! Yes I do. I even wrote a book about it. "

She played with her choker. "Oh?… Oh! You're the… Maker's breath, of course you are THE Varric Tethras! The Tale of The Champion… I've always thought it was highly addictive fiction…"

"Exactly. And I recognize that look on your face. The look of somebody, who never read it. I'm wounded, Specter!" Varric put his hands on his chest in pretending the pain.

Grace giggled and sipped from the mug. "I am sorry, but I did not have exactly much time for reading during the last will have to forgive me."

Varric steepled his fingers. "I think I can do that… But you will have to tell me what is going on between you and Curly." He gave her a sly smile and Grace felt her cheeks getting red again.

"Ahem… What do you mean exactly? I am afraid there is nothing to tell, Varric. The Commander made his view of mages pretty clear."

Varric chuckled in response. "And you are assuming that from a few disputes?"

"Isn't it enough? He hates mages and he made that pretty clear. And I happen to be a mage, if you didn't notice." She scoffed and took a sip of the mead.

"Well… I don't know…not too long ago I accidentally overheard a quiet conversation in a late evening a few steps from my tent… It sounded very different from what you are implying." He narrowed his eyes and watched her reaction with an amused grin.

Grace almost choked on the drink. "Ahem… the Commander simply walked the same way as I. What were we supposed to do? Be silent? I don't recall him being a man completely without manners. He was just being polite."

"And he stood there for a good amount of time after you left, staring at your door, out of sheer politeness too! He also did that the next day after you left him standing in front of the stables. Curly seems to be way too polite lately..." Varric was apparently enjoying this too much.

She ran a hand through her hair and stared at him in disbelief.

"How is that supposed to indicate that there is something going on between us?"

"I was not suggesting anything like that. But I got my answer."

"And that answer is…?" Grace leaned back in the chair and folded her arms.

"You already know, Specter." He grinned even wider and took another swig of ale.

She sighed and loosened her hair from the already messed braid. "I guess I'll pretend that nothing happened right now. I'm not so naive to think you'll let this go however…"

Time flew by quickly as they spent a few hours talking and laughing over the drinks, later joined by Sera and the Iron Bull, the qunari who introduced himself as a mercenary captain and who quickly fit right in. They all were entertaining company and Grace soon found herself feeling grateful and at ease. Or maybe it was the mead. She was not used to drinking - spending an evening like this at the Circle was unthinkable. Not that she and her best friend Ada would never sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchens to drink it, hidden behind one of the biggest book shelves in the Library. However, it was on a very rare occasion, so her tolerance was never very high. She already felt light headed after a few meads and her cheeks were burning from constant giggling over silly jokes and stories which Bull, Sera and Varric shared. It was very late when she ghosted them. Sera was already sleeping on the table and Varric somehow managed to entertain the whole tavern. Grace seized the moment of his distraction to sneak through the side door to get some air. The night was crisp and cold and the moon was shining brightly, she walked to her cottage and fell to her bed moments later, fully dressed, with a smile on her face.

As she turned to lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, she recalled the memory of Commander's smile at the stables and a long sigh left her lips… Varric caught her off guard again… But most importantly, he suggested that she was not the only one stealing looks, but it was also the other way around. Grace did not want to hear whatever Varric suggested, but a small voice in the corner of her mind whispered that she felt curious about Cullen. A Kirkwall Templar. It sounded too crazy…

Cullen… She recalled the look on his face when their eyes met during the night Varric talked about. Her last thought right before she drifted to sleep was that crooked smile of his, tugging on his scarred lip.

The morning was way harder and Grace made an inner note to "thank" Varric, Bull and Sera later.

Her head was pounding with a headache caused by the sweet mead, so she felt very happy that after breakfast Cassandra announced they would be leaving before noon, because Leliana's scouts were finishing mapping of the Redcliffe situation prior to their visit and some of them were not back yet.

She disappeared into her cottage, packed the stuff for a journey to Redcliffe and saved some time to read a book on combat tactics which was borrowed to her by Cassandra.

An hour before they were supposed to depart, Grace tacked Eluvia up, and decided to take a small ride around the Haven's forest. She needed to mark up a location of a logging camp in the woods for Threnn, their quartermaster.

As she was trotting down the forest road behind the bridge, she enjoyed the fresh air and sun. The snow on the ground was sparkling and Eluvia was snorting happily, her ears pointed forward, being alert and curious. When they discovered the small logging camp and marked it, she decided to continue around the lake to kill some time.

When she got closer to the crossroad near the Haven's gates and the eastern road leading to Ferelden, Eluvia started to move her ears and danced under the saddle excitedly. Grace tried to calm her down by stroking her neck and looked around for the source of the mare's animation. She could hear neighing in the distance and a clatter of many hooves. Her heart skipped a beat when she finally got a good look at the road leading from the valley. At least a dozen horses were walking towards Haven in a herd, following an imposant looking pitch black horse, ridden by none other than their Commander. His armor was shining in the sunlight, his huge fur mantle moving slightly on his shoulders, his cloak fluttering in the wind. The soldiers were riding some of the horses too, positioned around the herd as some horses were just walking freely.

Eluvia stomped at the spot nervously, her head high and nostrils widened as they approached. The mare let out a loud neigh and Grace felt pounding in her chest get stronger. The Commander turned his head to the sound of Eluvia's whinny and his face lightened up.

He hasn't seen her for a few weeks, and for all the time they were gone he did not let Grace off his mind. She was still there, her smile and witty comments. And now she was standing beside the road as if she was awaiting their arrival. Cullen fought the urge to make his horse gallop just to hear her voice a bit sooner. He did not allow himself to do it however. Instead, he maintained eye contact and approached The Herald in the unchanged pace.

Grace's grin widened as they got closer.

"I assume Master Dennet was happy that fellow Fereldan came to secure his farmlands?" She asked enthusiastically instead of greetings when Cullen and his horse got close enough to hear it.

"It… it is good to see you, Lady Herald." He blabbered out quickly and his smile couldn't get any wider. He realized how silly it must've looked and started to blush slightly. "Ahem… Yes, Master Dennet even agreed to come with us to take care of his herds. They are staying in the lowlands with the rest of the horses for our troops. You made a great impression, as it seems."

She giggled. "Don't rob yourself of the credit, Commander! This is more than we could have hoped for and you are the one to achieve that." She encouraged Eluvia to walk side to side with his horse towards Haven.

"Thank you, Herald." His reply was formal, but warm.

Varric and Cassandra were just taking on their mounts and Solas was walking through the gate.

"You are leaving?" He tried not to sound disappointed. After the time away he was hoping to steal some time with her.

"Commander!" Cassandra greeted Cullen enthusiastically and interrupted whatever Grace was about to reply.

"Finally some good news." She continued.

"I suppose so. You and Lady Herald prepared great ground for negotiations." Cullen replied with a smile as he got off his black horse.

They exchanged brief information and Grace and her group got quickly underway.