iTitle: Dragon Age: Inquisition A Mage's Quest for Restoration

Author: Amanda Rau (manda091987)

Game: Dragon Age: Inquisition

Characters/Pairing: (Characters) All from Dragon Age: Inquisition (Pairing) Trevelyan/Cullen

Disclaimer: All characters, the name 'Trevelyan,' and story are the sole property of Bioware. Elizabeth is mine. Please ask for permission for the use of any added material or characters./i

Elizabeth finished Cullen's gloves, opening a button-sized pocket on top, near the outside of each mitten. Taking out a small kit, she inserted runes, using all of the ones she had left.

"Which one is that?" Cassandra asked over Elizabeth's shoulder.

"It's a rune that keeps the material from staining, ripping, tearing, getting holes, or soaked. I only had enough for Cullen's gloves. I will have to get more."

"Cullen?" Cassandra regarded her.

"Cullen," she reiterated. "His glove tore when he was going over a move with Martin, it was his only pair. I elected to make him more."

"Hm."

Elizabeth observed the Seeker then shook her head. "Don't start; we're just friends."

"You can't be friends with a man like that after seeing him naked, even if it was halfway."

Elizabeth huffed. "I said, 'friend'. That doesn't mean I don't want to have more between us." She shivered. "Can we get off this topic?"

Cassandra smirked. "After all the grief you give me about Varric?"

"You two have an obvious tension that needs to be worked out," Elizabeth defended herself. "Think about all that chest hair?"

Cassandra squinted as she shook her head. "Think about those rippling muscles."

"I don't need your assistance." Elizabeth smiled. "It doesn't help that we've been talking about sex and relationships in our letters."

"You've what?" Cassandra's jaw dropped.

"Nothing in depth." Elizabeth shrugged. "Just a few ventures. I told you I like to make him blush."

"I didn't think he could even get that personal," Cassandra confessed.

"Does he not get personal with you?"

"No. At least, not that personal," Cassandra disagreed. "I would be a fool not to admit that he is good-looking, but I am partial to a different kind of man. There are many levels of attraction. I do not have that with Cullen. He's simply a dear friend."

"Would you say yours points to short-stack gingers?"

"Are you quite finished?" Cassandra glared.

Elizabeth held up Cullen's gloves. "I am!"

The dinner bell sounded. Cassandra and Elizabeth hurried for the gate, splitting up once inside to give Elizabeth time to clean up. She changed into a pair of black embroidered leggings and searched her baggage for a more comfortable top. It was a long-sleeved shirt with lengthy sides and a cowl neck that accommodated a hood.

Elizabeth heard something impale the side of her hut. Glimpsing outside, she noticed a light blizzard. Elizabeth put on boots to match, adding some scented oils, but only a bit of rose. She padded to her door, and when it opened, it flew back rather forcefully. Elizabeth put her hood over her head, braving Haven's weather. Once at the Tavern, Flissa approached.

"They all decided to have the festivities in the Chantry. A table was set up. I just took food and mead over there."

"All right then." Elizabeth bobbed her head.

"There you are!" Varric took her hand. "We've been waiting for you."

"I just now found out you guys moved to the chantry," Elizabeth defended.

Varric and Elizabeth went into the Chantry a few moments later.

"Found her. Head of the table, Dimples."

"Why do I have to be at the forefront of the table?"

"You're the Herald." Leliana grinned.

Elizabeth plopped into her chair, Cullen to the right, then Cassandra and Solas. Josephine was on Elizabeth's left, then Varric and Leliana. The table was petite, making the setting feel more intimate. A few of Flissa's assistants set down everyone's plates and filled their cups. Elizabeth laid out four pairs of gloves, and a salve container on the table to Cullen's left with a smirk. He seized the tin and put it in his pocket.

"Try them on." She held one glove up. "I want to make sure they fit."

Cullen tried a pair on, moved his hands around, bent his fingers, and closed them.

"How do they feel, Commander?" Cassandra asked.

"Like I'm not even wearing anything."

"May I?" She asked, holding her hand out, taking his. She set it on the table and pulled out one of her knives. "Do you trust me?"

He looked at her for a moment. "I trust you, just curious as to what you are doing."

Elizabeth smiled then slammed the knife down towards his hand. For a moment, everyone was holding their breaths until she pulled it up. It had snapped in half.

"How-?" Solas looked from Cullen's hand to Elizabeth. "Knives don't break easily."

Elizabeth snatched the sharpened edge that separated from the blade, shoving it into Cullen's palm. All he could feel was pressure. When her extremity rose, blood was coming from her fingertips. She dripped crimson liquid on the mitten, wiping it clean.

"It's a rune I created with the help of an enchanter. He made many of them for me. Your clothes never tear, rip, or get holes. They can't be punctured by an arrow or blade, and they can't stain or get wet. You won't feel the elements, and they're so light the perception is that you're not wearing any at all."

"This explains your armor," Solas realized.

Elizabeth smiled at him, looking at the rest of the table. "The heavier the armor, the more tired and constricted I am. I put these in my clothing, and it's easier to move because I can wear warmer heavier items."

"Is there anything you can't do, Dimples?"

Elizabeth looked at Varric. "There are lots of things I can't do, Varric. I'm not perfect."

"Don't let her lie to you," Josephine said.

Elizabeth shook her head. "It's not a lie."

Everyone laughed, then went back to their previous conversations.

Cullen took the gloves off, smiling. "Thank you, Trevelyan."

"You're welcome," she replied, mirroring his expression.

Cullen handed Elizabeth the lava packs she gave him earlier. She put them in her pocket with an appreciative grin. The group continued to visit over dinner. Mostly stories about the Hinterlands and all the trouble they had gotten up to while there. Afterward, some of them told stories that took place before their faction was officially the Inquisition. Cullen even asked Elizabeth to tell her grasshopper story, which caused an uproar of laughter. Afterward, Varric brought out the cards and everyone else their coin. Elizabeth picked up her cards and looked through them. As she organized them, Cullen chuckled then pulled her hood down.

"No cheating, Trevelyan."

"Do you think I'm that scandalous?"

"Yes," Varric, Cassandra, and Solas said at the same time.

"Don't be malicious!" Elizabeth protested. "You just get angry because you over-bet thinking you can win it all back and end up losing everything."

"I've seen Ella lose," Josephine said. "Horrendously, actually."

"They will witness it tonight," Cullen emphasized, placing his bet. "Two silver."

"I bet two as well." Cassandra threw them into the center of the table.

Everyone else continued to place their bets till the pot totaled about 75 gold. At this point, it was only Varric, Cullen, and Elizabeth.

Varric sighed. "Raising four gold."

Elizabeth threw five gold in, squinting at Cullen, who tossed in the same amount. Varric turned the next card, revealing the Angel of Death, setting his cards on the surface. He had two serpents, but the rest were different. Elizabeth placed her cards face up; three Knights and two Angels. Cullen smirked, revealing four Angels and one Knight. Everyone elicited varying noises, mostly congratulating Cullen on his victory.

"I believe you owe me an additional 100 gold, my lady," Cullen leaned forward.

Elizabeth bobbed her head as she stood, raising her tunic. Cullen restrained, keeping his breath from hitching when he caught a glimpse of the woman's left hip and abdomen. Cullen noticed the gem near her pelvic bone and her evenly tanned and flawless skin. Smooth, begging to be explored. He had to stay himself from a one-sided desire. The exertion was almost rendered useless when Elizabeth's hand ghosted her left breast. The vibration of a lacy coin-filled pouch tumbling to the wooden surface, shoved the commander from his trance.

"One hundred gold as agreed to." She bowed.

Cullen picked up the pouch, trying to compose himself, but once feeling how warm the bag was from being against her, he almost lost it again.

Cullen and Elizabeth exit the Chantry with Solas and Varric. The blizzard seemed to be over but still snowing heavily. They went the long way, dropping Solas off first, then Varric. Before Elizabeth could get too much further, Samuel, one of the messenger boys, delivered a note from Adan stating they would meet with the Templars at another time. He was busy attending to some refugees in the camp for the rest of the night. Elizabeth went down the steps, Cullen following.

"Tired?"

She thought for a moment, turning toward him. "Not really, I took an energy potion earlier, so I will probably be up for a few more hours. Why?"

"Feel like going over some of those answers?" he asked. "I have brandy."

"Three magic words." She smiled.

Cullen chuckled, holding the door open, motioning the young woman inside. He removed his coat and armor, leaving him in breeches and a tunic that mimicked his coat's red and gold hues. Elizabeth lit some candles while Cullen put wood and tinder in the fireplace, illuminating the contents. When he stood, Elizabeth handed him a mug of brandy. Before swallowing the liquid, he savored it. Elizabeth mirrored the action, observing his curves, his bare abdomen running through her mind. She freshened their cups then padded to the bed. Her bottom plopped down, nimble fingers discarding her boots, bringing her legs up in a criss-cross. Cullen sat in the chair closer to the fireplace.

"Which ones did you want to talk about, Commander?"

"I am anxious to know more about your family." He leaned forward. "But, I want to backtrack a little first, if I may?"

"Cullen, please." Her expression was soft. "I want us to be open with each other."

"All right." He moved forward. "Your hobbies. They sound more like talents."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Most of what I listed is, but I love to do them, which should classify them as hobbies."

Cullen placed his cup on the nightstand, opening the drawer, seizing the special parchment and cloth roll inside. He handed them to Elizabeth. Her orbs peered into his, then glanced down at the items, receiving them. She untied the leather strap around the cloth roll, unraveling it to see various pencils and erasers.

"Draw me something?"

"What do you want me to draw?" she wondered.

"Whatever you feel like." His shoulders tensed. "Whatever takes the least time, I suppose."

She chuckled. "I could draw anything in a few hours without my magic. With magic? Mere minutes."

"What is it?" Cullen observed her face.

Elizabeth grinned. "Never really been asked to draw something from someone. I'm actually kind of flattered." She picked a pencil and began to draw. "Anyway, you wanted to backtrack a little."

"Well, before we delve into family, I'd like to ask something rather personal." He fidgeted then looked up, meeting her eyes with his. "What exactly happened with Timothy and Lucas? You gave me some details…"

Elizabeth reassured him, "Cullen, I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't prepared to give you the whole story."

"I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"It takes quite a bit to make me uncomfortable," she replied. "Let's see" she processed for a moment, "I should start with Timothy since he was the first. Timothy and I talked every now and then when I saw him in the library or around. When he found out about a certain situation involving me and some Templars, he was there for me. Eventually, that blossomed into something more. Another male friend tried to warn me about his reputation, but Timothy saved me. I was blinded when it came to his bad nature." Elizabeth shook her head. "I didn't heed my friend's words. A few years later, I finally gave in and had sex with Timothy. The very next day, I caught him in a closet with another woman. He told me that I was just a notch, and that this had been happening for a while. By 'this', he meant sleeping with other people while we were together. He was with me for two and a half years, the whole time I was blind, and stupid. He patiently won my trust just to get something from me. Which, I note, that I was better at than he was." She looked up from the parchment. "I mean that in the humblest way possible."

Cullen chuckled. "Then I shall take it that way." He bobbed his head. "What of Lucas?"

"Repetition?" She exhaled, going back to drawing. "Lucas is Brian's best friend. Been attached at the hip since my brother arrived at the Circle. Like you, Lucas was quiet and introverted. Very sweet and gentlemanly. As he and my brother grew close, so did he and I. When Lucas found out about Timothy, he was there for me. He said he wasn't much of the relationship type, but that we had a deep connection. Inevitably, he also cheated." She shrugged. "I was angry that he did it, but not surprised. He did warn me he wasn't much for relationships, and I knowingly put myself into a situation with no other possible outcome."

"What is 'The Agreement' exactly? Why keep it if he did that to you?" Cullen wondered.

"'The Agreement' is just sex," Elizabeth replied. "I didn't want any more relationships after being cheated on twice. Experiencing that at a young age made me feel like all men were the same. Even my brothers couldn't convince me otherwise. But after my first time, I loved the way I felt, so I wanted sex all the time." She twitched nervously. "Sorry, Cullen. I am trying to convey this without giving too much detail. But the truth is, I discovered I was a bit of a nymphomaniac. It was a frightening thing to discover at a young age, so I suppressed it. After Timothy, I tried to suppress it again."

"But Lucas gave you an outlet for it," Cullen caught on.

"Yes," Elizabeth responded. "So, we agreed to keep up the physical aspect. It worked for a while. Till another guy showed interest. Lucas had other women and made it seem that it was okay for me to have the company of other men, but his jealousy wasn't as subtle as he thought it was."

"What happened with the other guy?" Cullen inquired.

"Nothing." Elizabeth sighed as she continued her drawing. "We had become friends long ago, but after years, he finally confessed how he felt, and I told him that it was sweet, but I wasn't looking for anything serious. I told him that I wasn't closed off to anything physical, however. We were about to have sex for the first time, and he called it off. Said I meant more to him than just a toss between the sheets. It was apparently traumatic enough that he transferred. At the time, I felt guilty but as sweet as he was, we couldn't have a life together."

"Do you still have this agreement with Lucas?" Cullen inquired.

"Maybe?" She looked up from the drawing. "We haven't seen each other in over a year. We write smutty letters to each other maybe once a month, but that's about it."

He sensed she didn't want to keep talking about Lucas, so he diverted. "Let's talk about your family."

"I'd like that." Elizabeth picked a different pencil.

"You speak of Aiden often, and I know that you two are close," he recalled. "But what more can you tell me about him and your other brothers?"

"Well, as you know, Aiden is the oldest and in line to take my father's place when the time comes. He's married to Crystal and has two children. Ephraim, his son, and Lilith, his daughter. Now, each member of my family has this unexplainable gift…"

"You said your mother is the Bellator from which you inherited your powers," Cullen remembered.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. Each child born of a Bellator is blessed with a gift in order to assist the chosen one. Aiden can see who someone truly is. Not like an aura, but their soul. He can look into your eyes, and only seconds later, know exactly who you are. He can even see snippets of the future, but it rarely happens. Then there's Brian, the second child. He was Knight-Captain at Ostwick's Circle. Married to Kathreen. They have two sons Marcus and Rayner."

"Knight-Captain, hm?"

Elizabeth nodded. "The best, hands down. No offense to your formal title. I am a bit biased."

Cullen laughed. "No offense taken, my lady. What is Brian's gift?"

"He has strategic sense," Elizabeth replied. "Not like a soldier who studied for 20 years and got it down, no. He was planning out battles and winning them for my father when he was seven. He's only built upon that skill and applied it."

"He's not here?"

Elizabeth peered up at Cullen. "Do you doubt your abilities, Commander?"

"No." He shook his head. "I studied wars, battles, and fights. Anything I could get my hands on. Wars waged before our great grandparents were mere thought. But it would seem that even I can't come close to that, and this is no ordinary war."

"You're right." Elizabeth nodded. "But, I think you are doing a tremendous job. Besides, Brian is chasing down leads for me. I have him investigating both sides of the mage and templar puzzle."

"Smart." Cullen smirked. "Who's next?"

"Cellen." Elizabeth beamed. "The middle child and he acts like it!"

"The omen in the family?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment. "I guess you could say that. No one amongst the siblings is atrocious in the sense of the word. I know every family has that one brat that just causes trouble and brings negative thoughts to the family name, but it isn't that way in our family. I mean, we all rebelled in the sense of the word, but Cellen is…"

"Difficult?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "He can be, but not negatively so. He's probably the nicest of all of us. Sweetest disposition, and I have never seen him angry at anything. He gets mad, but you'll never know it."

"What makes him difficult?"

"He…" She tapped her lips as she thought for a moment. "Cellen's vicarious? Since he's the middle child and two older boys carry on the Trevelyan name and the Bann seat, he just does what he wants. He sleeps around, drinks, gambles. He's still wealthy, disease-free, and has never done anything irreversible when drunk. Despite sleeping around, he isn't disrespectful to women, he owes no debts, and never gambles with anyone shady. He's smart."

"What does he do?"

"Knight-Lieutenant." Elizabeth grinned.

"Gift?"

"Financial sense," she responded. "It's why I don't need money. You see, my brothers wanted a sister. Aiden is 15 years older than Emery and I, and David, the youngest, is seven years older than us. After that, my mother went through years of miscarriage after miscarriage, stillbirths, heartache. Then she got pregnant with twins. She surprised my siblings with our gender when we were born. Right away, Emery was needy. He took up most of my mother's time and energy. So I had Aiden."

"Explains why you two are so close."

She agreed, "It does. Anyhow, my parents set aside my dowry, but my brothers have always covered my expenses. It's been that way forever. Of course, my parents help, but my pockets are never empty. Cellen handles it all and has set it up to where I could live the rest of my days comfortably."

"David?" Cullen grinned.

Elizabeth lit up at the mention of him. "The soft-spoken, timid one. He's gone through more than any man should and lost things no one should lose, but you'll never see him without a smile. He never lets anything get him down. He's like my mother in that way. As you know, he was married, lost his wife when she gave birth to Simon. As a Knight-Lieutenant, he spent a lot of time in the Circle, but Simon stayed with my parents, and David visits often. The relationship between them is beautiful. Rachel would be proud of the man and father he's become."

"It seems so," Cullen cooed. "What is David's gift?"

"Business sense," Elizabeth replied. "He and Cellen would team up and help my father with finances and aspects of business. Buy a business, put money into it, get some money back, then sell it. David was always making ventures for my father, and his buying and Cellen's sorting led to a boom in our economy. Which is why I told you that even our poor live well. Believe it or not, Ostwick isn't as big as it sounds, at least, not as big as other port cities, but the fact that my brother knows how to make a business sound as enticing as a piece of cake, has allowed a lot of major people to ship in and out of Ostwick. It's been beneficial to these companies and us."

"That's impressive," Cullen responded.

"Emery." She took a deep breath.

"If you aren't ready—"

"No." She put her hand up. "I'm not ready, but I need to. I don't think I can talk about Emery with anyone else but you."

"Take your time." Cullen put a reassuring hand on her lower leg.

Elizabeth exhaled. "Emery was two minutes older than me and came out holding my ankle. He wouldn't let go, so my father left him there while my mother pushed me out. He had an infectious personality. You were never stressed, sad, upset, or frustrated around him. He always had this way of calming people down, his laughter was contagious, and his voice… it chased away fear." Elizabeth laughed. "We were always inseparable. He tried to be my good conscience, but it apparently never worked. He was calm and collected like my mother. I took after my father's pig-headed, rambunctious, troublemaking side."

"I think turning your partner into a grasshopper is a good indication." Cullen snickered.

Elizabeth set her drawing down on her right so Cullen couldn't see it yet, then opened her bag, pulling a small vial out moments later. "That's it."

"This?" Cullen looked at her, then to the vial. "This tiny bottle?"

"Yup."

"You still have some?"

Elizabeth shrugged innocently. "Varric and Cassandra can get exhausting."

Cullen laughed. "I am going to have to watch out for you. I'm keeping this, by the way, it will make me smile when I look at it."

Elizabeth giggled. "Thinking of my troublemaking on a bad day just might help."

"So" Cullen sat back down from putting the vial on the shelf, "what was Emery's gift? Or did he not have one since he was also a mage?"

"The thing about being a Bellator is that it chooses the only mage in the family. When there are two, fate decides. The desires are taken into consideration. Magic usually manifests itself from eight to 12-years-old. Becoming a Bellator is evident around age 15. Emery wanted it when we were young, I had no preference. We went to the Circle at eight, and at about ten, he stumbled on a purpose. Emery wanted to instruct, teach. He had the patience for it. When Lydia saw him engage with the weaker mages and help them, she began to groom him. He grew out of the desire. He wasn't going to turn down the gift but was so-so like I was. At the age of 14, I experienced a pretty life-altering encounter. I didn't want it after that, I was defeated. Emery is… was a significantly better leader than me. Yet, here we are. I'm not sure what Andraste and the Maker are thinking, but they must see what I can't, because I'm not convinced."

"Do not doubt yourself."

"I try not to," she admitted.

"If it helps, I'm following you. I consider you my leader, and I'm an ex-templar. Blasphemous."

His tone caused her to snicker. "It idoes/i help. Thank you." She set her pencil down. "Are you ready for this? Because I'm not sure you are?"

"If you drew me a stick figure, Trevelyan…"

She laughed. "I didn't, but I should have."

Cullen took the board the parchment was on and observed it. Elizabeth had drawn a black and white rendering of him from the shoulders, up, using the fireplace as her light source for shading. It was evident that Elizabeth was talented based on the pencils she used for shading and adding detail. Cullen only knew because his youngest sister was proficient with art, and he learned from her.

"This is…"

"Feel free to call yourself beautiful."

Cullen hiccuped a laugh. "The drawing is."

She peered down at the items on the mattress. "I am impressed with the pencil set you gave me. Might just be better than mine."

"My younger sister draws," Cullen revealed. "The pencils are my gift."

"Are you ever going to tell me your talents? Or will I have to find them out the hard way?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"The hard way." Cullen raised an eyebrow as he smirked. "You're like a cat, Trevelyan, and I've become your mouse. If I divulge too much at once, I'll become boring."

"You must have been the brat of your family." She sighed.

Cullen chuckled. "I had my moments. One of my talents should be painfully obvious, though."

Elizabeth glanced at the sword when he motioned to it. "What age did you learn?"

"The minute I could hold a practice one," he stated. "My father owned a woodworking shop but was also a smith. He made swords, and I was fascinated by them. He carved me a practice one at the age of two, and by the age of eight, I was using a blade to my size. I taught myself mostly, but my father did help. I picked it up abnormally fast, I'm told."

"It's easy to see," Elizabeth responded. "You have impeccable form."

"Thank you, Trevelyan."

"Did your father pass down any of his carpenter or blacksmithing knowledge to you?"

Cullen nodded. "Yes. I actually carved my own desk for my office in Kirkwall's Circle. I gifted it to Aveline when I left, however. She admired it. Hawke paid me for it, though he didn't need to."

"The way he loves her." Elizabeth swooned. "You'd never know she's actually the softer heart of their relationship." Cullen quirked his lips when he saw her face light up at the mere mention of them. Elizabeth finished her drink. "I should probably get back to my hut, but you're on the chopping block next time."

Cullen nodded. "I'd say that's fair."

The second the threshold opened, a large gust whipped at them, sheer force thrusting Elizabeth backward. Cullen brought her to him behind the barrier. Immediately, they leaned against it; Elizabeth used the power of her legs, Cullen, his arm strength. Together they shoved the door opposite the wind's might. When it finally clicked shut, they stared at each other, huffing laughs through panted breaths.

"I keep a cot in here in case it's needed. You can have the bed."

"Thank you, Cullen."

Elizabeth stumbled to the mattress, her tunic draping over the post of the footboard, her boots following. She pawed at the blankets, plopping down with a satiated groan. Cullen's scent rose from the bed like a soft cloud. It wasn't overwhelming but evident. Elizabeth shifted to her stomach, watching Cullen add more logs, then set up his trundle. He sat down, removing his boots and tunic, getting comfortably nestled in.

"Well, Commander" Elizabeth sighed, "you've got time to tell me about your family."

Cullen agreed, "I do."

"Who's the oldest?"

"Mia," he replied. "She looks most like my mother."

"Describe her to me." Elizabeth rolled to her left side.

"She's brunette with bright green eyes. Tall for a woman, and a bit of a string bean. Mia's the least noisy out of the four of us. Very collected. She is a seamstress in South Reach and a prevalent one."

"She sounds delightful."

"She is." Cullen glanced over at Elizabeth. "Then there's me, and next Branson. He's the tit of our family. Or was. He's gotten better. Married a beautiful girl native to South Reach, Rebecca. Branson was always mature for his age and a good man, I guess." Elizabeth laughed, lightly backhanding his arm, causing him to chuckle. "He looks a lot like my sister Mia."

"Then the baby of the family." Elizabeth wrinkled her nose.

"The baby." Cullen smiled. "Rosalie. She has blonde hair like I do, but kept the green eyes. I was always jealous of her for that."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "You're eyes are gorgeous. They remind me of dried tree sap. Drops of misshapen glass marble the color of caramel toffee, glittering in the sun when it's rays hit the crystal-like substance just right." She looked back at him with a nervous smile. "An artist's rendering."

"Easy for you to say so." His amused expression pushed through his blushing. "But thank you, Trevelyan. You make them sound much more poetic."

"Tell me about Rosalie?"

"She's happy. A bright, warm summer day." Cullen beamed. "All of us siblings were close, but I took to Rosalie, much like Aiden took to you. With her speech impairment, I spent much of my time translating. She speaks better than all of us now. She could talk a poor man out of his last copper."

"She sounds delightful."

Cullen got more comfortable in the bed by shifting to his right, toward Elizabeth. "Did you get the last name yet?"

"That's a good question." She looked at him. "The even better one is: I don't know, have I?"

"Are you going to tease me?"

Elizabeth giggled. "By now, you should know that I love to tease you. Seeing you turn all the different shades of pink, red, and purple is my favorite thing."

Elizabeth busted when Cullen's cheeks rosily flushed, her right index finger tracing from the bridge to the tip of his nose. He clutched down on her wrist, observing the bracelet wrapped around it. The trinket consisted of thinly braided leather strands and a centered half-inch metal plate. 'We love you, Auntie' engraved on the tiny rectangular disc.

"This is adorable."

"It is." Elizabeth gazed at it. "I was lucky enough to visit home before coming to the Conclave. My niece and all my nephews banded together and made it for me. It is my most priceless possession."

"Indeed." Cullen smiled. "But you've deflected."

"Have I?" Elizabeth yawned. "What have I deflected?"

Cullen looked at her with one raised eyebrow then shrugged. "Less coin I have to part with."

"Yuck it up." Elizabeth shook her head with a sigh.

Elizabeth and Cullen laid in comfortable silence; the only sound was occasional maneuvering or the wind outside. Elizabeth felt her eyelids get heavy, sleep eventually overtaking her. Cullen got up, adding another log to the fire. Cullen burrowed into his blankets, feeling something light strike him, followed by something a little weightier, then lighter than the first. Cullen realized what the three items might have been as his fingers grabbed the clothing. He folded the pants and shirt, set them on the chair, then swallowed hard as he plucked her still warm bra and tossed it in the same place. Cullen tried not to gawk but felt the transparent lacy material in his grasp; it was enough. He rolled over, facing Elizabeth's still silhouette. Her left arm was under the pillow, hand hanging off the bed. Her right arm was holding the sheet to her chest, hugging it. The woman's face was barely visible through her fiery spiraled strands. The commander smiled at her resting body, then closed his eyes and fell asleep minutes later.

A nightmare abruptly hurled Cullen into the waking world. He panted, sitting up on the edge of the cot, face immersed in his trembling palms. Suddenly, Cullen remembered there was a guest. He turned, noticing Elizabeth on the other side of the mattress, left arm partially bent, her right, fully extended, as auburn curls flowed behind.

Cullen quietly rose from the trundle bed, folding the blankets before carefully pushing it under his bed frame. He placed his satchel on the chair, compiling everything needed to bathe after morning drills with his soldiers. Cullen swiveled to seize his clothes but froze when Elizabeth jolted in the corner of his eye, slightly mumbling in her sleep. He was careful not to make any noise. Elizabeth chose that moment to reposition. The fluid adjustment rolled her to her back, right arm remaining across her body, thankfully holding the sheet in place. However, her left leg kicked out, bending at an angle, left arm going under the cushion cradling her crown. That entire side of her frame was now exposed. Cullen felt like his swallow echoed in the eerie silence surrounding them. Morning rays from the sun illuminated her warm honey skin as if it was glimmering silk. Unmistakable curves were no longer as subtle as her clothing deceivingly portrayed. Shaky hands seized his garb, throwing everything into the satchel as quickly as possible. The commander put his coat on, picked up his armor, and left for drills.

Elizabeth stirred, hearing the familiar sounds of Haven, her eyes gracefully fluttering open. The smell of fall filled her senses as she stretched her muscles from tense hibernation. She took in her surroundings, noticing that Cullen was absent, as was his armor and clothing. The cot was put away, blankets neatly folded. She glanced at the pillow, finding a folded parchment with her name on it. Elizabeth smiled as she opened and read it.

iTrevelyan,

Thank you for entertaining me last night. There aren't many here that I can casually sit and have a drink with. Especially not anyone as familiar with who I am. Take your time getting up and leaving.

Cullen/i

Elizabeth climbed out of bed only to realize she was exposed. Her expression molded to sheer horror as she processed her rambunctious sleeping habits. Elizabeth searched for her clothes, finding them methodically tucked in the chair. She put on her bra, but she couldn't locate her underwear after searching for what felt like hours. After dressing, Elizabeth quickly made the bed and fluffed the pillows. Leaving the hovel, she turned toward her hut, three sets of eyes gazing at her, amused grins below them.

"This is not what it looks like." She grimaced.

"If it were, you'd be in a lot better mood." Josephine smirked.

"Ha-ha!" Elizabeth scoffed. "Aren't you just so cute!"

"So" Varric's eyebrows danced, "what happened with you and Curly?"

"The only reason you would have been waiting here for me is if you knew that I was in there after not finding me in my hut," she deduced. "Which means, you've talked to Curly already."

"But he said 'nothing,'" Cassandra folded her arms.

"I bet that just eats away at the three of you, no?" Elizabeth smiled evilly.

The woman stepped into her hut and started getting things ready to go to the spring. Josephine dramatically threw herself on Elizabeth's bed, ending up near her friend, who put things into a bag. The action made everyone laugh.

"Tell me your deepest secrets, my lady."

"Josie." Elizabeth continued to giggle. "We didn't do anything. We had a few drinks, I told him about my family, and he shared some about him, then I fell asleep."

"In his bed?" Varric inquired.

"Yes," Elizabeth said slowly.

"Naked?"

She raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. "Like I do every night."

"With him next to you?" Varric pressed.

"Yes'' she paused for a moment as they held their breaths, "in a cot." They gave frustrated sighs. "Are you serious? We're just friends!"

"Keep saying it out loud enough, and you'll believe it, huh?"

"Varric!" Elizabeth scolded. "Look, I barely know him! The only reason to do ithat/i would be to relieve stress, and I'm not going to do that to our friendship."

"Only because you think it could be more than that one day." Josephine grinned. "I know how you operate, Ella."

Elizabeth sighed. "It has nothing to do with that! Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go bathe."

Elizabeth left her hut, her three friends tagging along beside her. They went through the gates, seeing soldiers going past her and to the tavern for breakfast, leaving Cullen in his usual place. He was holding a board with papers on them, talking with one of Leliana's scouts. Varric, Cassandra, Josephine, and Elizabeth were laughing but stopped when they saw a man coming toward them, tightly holding a knife to Lysette's throat. The scout that was conversing with Cullen was now holding his bow in position, arrow ready. Cullen was standing with his right hand on his sword, prepared to pull it out and kill if necessary, while his left arm was held out in front of the scout, signaling him to hold.

"You!" The man shouted at Elizabeth. "You're why we're stuck here. This bitch won't let us leave because your cause is greater than the mage and Templar rebellion. Because you're the 'Chosen One.' Andraste's pet. How can a filthy mage be such a thing?"

Elizabeth took a moment to notice him. The man was sweating, twitching, shaking, and pale—all apparent signs of lyrium withdrawal. The female mage held her hands out, carefully setting her bag down, and removed her cloak, leaving her in nothing but her tank top and pants. She cautiously approached the unstable man, examining Lysette, who appeared frightened.

"How are you, Lysette?"

"I've been better," she whispered.

"Michael isn't going to hurt you." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Are you, Michael?"

"I will!" he yelled.

"But you won't," Elizabeth replied. "You want me. After all, you are here because of me. So let her go."

The man blinked a few times as sweat beads rolled down the length of his face. "No."

"Michael, you're suffering from lyrium withdrawals," Elizabeth murmured. "You aren't thinking clearly. I'm the Herald! How could this not be my fault? But if you let her go, I can help you. I've given therapy to many who've gone through withdrawal. So please, let her go, this is between you and me."

Michael loosened his hold on Lysette then pushed her forward. The woman stumbled, but Elizabeth caught her, helping her shaking body to its feet.

"Elizabeth," Cassandra said behind her.

"Get Lysette away from here, Varric." Elizabeth waved behind her while maintaining eye contact with Michael.

Varric took the woman's hand and led her into Haven.

"They go too." Michael pointed to the scout and Josephine.

"No!" Josephine protested.

"Go inside, Josie," Elizabeth demanded.

"No—" Cassandra stopped the ambassador and nodded toward the gate.

The scout guided her away, as Elizabeth continued to focus on Michael.

"Why are Cullen and Cassandra still here?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because they're worse than Lysette with all their blind raving," he hissed. "They would follow you to death, and that's not how it should be! The Holy's most devoted shouldn't be following some mage bitch! Maybe, maybe if they saw their savior fall, then I would become a god. I would be a god for killing the great Herald!"

"Michael," Cullen called out to him, "that's not how it will end for you. Please, we can help you."

"No!" he shouted. "There is no way other than her death!"

Michael lunged for Elizabeth. She blocked him, jabbing his shoulder, causing it to dislocate. Once again, he came at her, getting three consecutive fists to the face, one of them breaking his nose. He charged toward her from a lower position, both going to the ground. Elizabeth managed to get her legs wrapped around Michael's pelvis. It stilled his flailing enough for the woman to maneuver her arms so she could seize his tunic from either side of his shoulders and twist around his head, her forearms residing under his chin. This position allowed Elizabeth to choke Michael as he tried to escape her, but her figure was so tightly attached to his.

"Maker, give this young man a place at your side. Let us find comfort in the peace he has found, eternity." Elizabeth sobbed with labored breaths.

Michael struggled before managing to escape Elizabeth's grasp. He rolled away, gasping for air, but she didn't give him a chance to compensate and regain strength. Her hand extended, the knife Cullen possessed in his belt for emergency purposes suddenly appearing in her hand. Michael turned to meet the blade, attempting to compensate too late, his body losing all vigor. Both were on their knees opposite each other, eyes captivated. Elizabeth made sure to remain engaged as Michael passed from this world to the next.

"Thank you," he breathed.

Tears streamed from Elizabeth's eyes as his head fell to her shoulder, her hand caressing him.

"Be at peace."

For a moment, Elizabeth remained there, guiding his soul beyond the living world. Cassandra and Cullen stood, frozen. Elizabeth's eyes closed, Michael's lifeless body turned to ash and was carried away by the winds. She slowly raised her hands in front of her; they shook as the adrenaline flowed through her.

"Are you all right?" Cassandra asked.

Elizabeth stood, stumbling a few feet away to void her stomach.

"I'll be fine." She trotted back over to grab her belongings.

The dark-haired woman regarded Cullen before following Elizabeth's retreat from the area. Elizabeth peeled off her clothes and climbed into the warm water when they made it to the spring. She quickly washed up, then relaxed against the rocks, meditating on the situation.

"Don't think about it, Herald." Cassandra sat down outside the pool, close to her friend. "Everyone has a time. It was simply his."

Elizabeth climbed out, drying off, lathering oils into her skin and hair, then wrapped a linen around her figure. The Seeker consoled her friend, placing a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. For a few moments, they were silent, then Cassandra stood to leave as Elizabeth got dressed. She waltzed to the tree line, the commander appearing.

"How is she?"

"Better." Cassandra sighed. "She is beginning to accept it. I will be at Haven if you need me."

Cullen entered the area. Elizabeth was standing against the three-foot stone wall that outlined the hot spring, dressed in her black leggings, boots, and a pink fitted tank top. Her eyes were staring out over the distance, seemingly processing this morning's events. Cullen sat down on the two-foot-wide wall and leaned his back against the jagged rocks towering the pool. He remained quiet, listening to the waterfall pour clean, filtered water into the geyser. Spirit flew in, landing on Cullen's armored knee, bobbing her head toward Elizabeth. The woman's eyes slowly maneuvered their attention to the hawk, the back of her index finger stroking the bird's chest as if to say she was alright. When Spirit was sure, she fluttered toward Elizabeth's bag, where she nestled in wait. Cullen pondered Elizabeth's drenched state. Her hair was still wet, saturated enough that the curls were small waves under the weight of the liquid it possessed. A damp shirt and droplets on her skin made it visible she dressed before thoroughly drying. His head lay against the hard surface, eyes closing as he took in the air around him. It felt like an eternity had gone by, though mere minutes before he heard Elizabeth take in air, almost as if she wanted to say something but paused.

"What is it?" Cullen asked as he opened his eyes, staring at her.

"Who was the first person you killed? Were they innocent, or did they deserve it?"

Cullen took a deep breath then let it out. "Trevelyan, if you think you were wrong for killing Michael because you felt like he was innocent, we need to have an entirely different discussion."

Elizabeth gazed at him with her piercing eyes. "He didn't want to be here."

"That doesn't give him the right to take Lysette hostage or threaten you."

"He was suffering lyrium withdrawal, Cullen." Elizabeth shook her head as she exhaled. "He didn't know what he was doing."

"Don't make excuses for him," Cullen shook his head. "Had you not stepped in, he would have killed her, and had you not reacted, he would have killed you, he almost did. Thank the Maker you know hand-to-hand."

"It's a bit rusty," Elizabeth responded, taking a seat on the pool's edge.

Cullen managed a chuckle. "I can help whenever you are willing." He watched her for a moment then scooted closer to her as Spirit flew off, going after a nearby rodent. "The first person I killed was a fellow recruit, and no, he wasn't innocent. He started beating a mage girl, always an abusive type, but never randomly hit people. I guess the exercises weren't enough to satiate his needs. He would have killed her if I hadn't stopped him."

"How old were you?"

Cullen sighed. "Only 17."

"Can I safely assume this was the mage woman that kissed you?"

Cullen laughed with a bit of a blush. "No."

"Oh." Elizabeth smiled.

"I knew I'd get it eventually." Cullen smirked.

"The kiss?"

"Your smile," Cullen replied. "Though I didn't think I would have to sacrifice some embarrassment to get it. Maker's breath, Trevelyan."

Elizabeth managed a chuckle. "I live to serve."

"You're too good at it." Cullen tried to glare.

Elizabeth tossed both linens into her pouch. Her satchel went over her shoulder as she left side-by-side with Cullen. They silently cantered as Elizabeth reached back, putting her hair into a waterfall braid. Curls fell gracefully as she finished each loop. The young woman pinned it, her orbs drifting to Cullen.

"Thank you." she stopped making him face her. "I…" she took a deep breath.

Cullen inched closer to Elizabeth. "I know. You're welcome. You're hand-to-hand may be a bit rusty, but that hold you put him in was impressive. Might have to teach me that one."

The two started walking again. "The least I could do if you're going to help me. A favor for a favor."

"I suppose it is." He smiled.

"You keep lucking out on these favors, Cully."

"I do," he replied. "But, my luck has to run out sooner or later."

Elizabeth snorted. "So pessimistic."

"No," he shook his head. "Just someone who likes to be prepared."

"Then I need to make it something you wouldn't typically prepare for."

"Maker's breath, Trevelyan!"

Elizabeth crossed her arms, amusement dancing across her face. "You make my life entertaining, always assuming I'll do something naughty."

Cullen shook his head as the three natural pinks, reds and purples, flushed through his cheeks. Josephine sprinted toward Elizabeth, wrapping her arms around her as the two padded through the gates of Haven. Josephine drew back and inspected Elizabeth.

"You're all right!" She breathed deep.

"Yes, Josie. How is Lysette?"

"She's okay," Varric responded as he approached. "She's in her tent resting."

"Good," Elizabeth said.

As they padded up the steps, Cassandra stopped Elizabeth. "Would you join me, Herald?"

Elizabeth nodded, and everyone else proceeded, going toward the tavern. Cassandra motioned Elizabeth over to the log circle, where Cullen kept his things. She took a seat, and Cassandra handed her a bowl, then opened a thermos, pouring some soup into it. She sat down with her dish, closing the thermos after the soup was served.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Cassandra?"

"Well" she fidgeted, "the Commander has been getting to know you, but it occurred to me that I don't know much about you despite all the traveling we do together."

"I'm an open book, Cassandra, what do you want to know?" Elizabeth asked, taking a spoon full of her soup.

"I'm not sure," Cassandra replied. "I know you are from Ostwick."

"I am. I was there until the rebellion began."

"Yes." The Seeker nodded. "I suppose that would have required you to stay on the move. Tell me, do you consider the Free Marches your home now? Or are you eager to go back?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment as she finished a bite of her soup. "Ostwick will always be home, and my family is there. But honestly, wherever I am is home enough for me."

"That's how I feel now, after years of tending to business for the Divine," she confessed.

"Well, if we are going to get to know each other, it would be fair to tell me some things about you." Elizabeth smiled.

"There's not much to know," Cassandra replied.

"I have deduced some things." Elizabeth shrugged. "But I don't want to pry."

"No, I just…" Cassandra took a deep breath. "Oh, very well. My name is Cassandra Pentaghast, daughter of the royal house of Nevarra, seventy-eighth in line for the Nevarran throne. I joined the Seekers of Truth as a young woman and was with the Order until they withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as the Divine's Right Hand, carrying out her order to form the Inquisition— and here we are. That's all there is to know, my lady."

"You're a member of Nevarra's royal family?"

"Yes," Cassandra answered.

"Explains why you bowed to me when you found out what I was," Elizabeth recalled. "They were close to the Draco's. We needed your family for dragon hunting."

"Yes." Cassandra bobbed her head. "The Pentaghast's are a very large clan. Half of Cumberland could say the same."

"Really?"

Cassandra shook her head. "No. But it feels that way. I have hundreds of relatives so distant, they need charts to prove we're related at all. And they have them, oh, yes. The Pentaghast's value their precious blood like it runs with gold."

Elizabeth sat forward a little. "You joined the Seekers to get away from that?"

"It was a life worth getting away from," Cassandra responded. "The Pentaghast's are famed, as you know, for the dragon-hunting, but few actually pursue the craft. Most are fat and lazy. They pay lip service to the Maker and care only for idle pleasures and past glories. My brother was all that kept me in Nevarra. Once he was gone, so was I."

"Tell me about your brother."

Once again, Cassandra moved in her seat. "Anthony was older than I, a dragon hunter who showed what a Pentaghast could truly be. I idolized him. I wanted to hunt dragons as he did, even though our uncle forbade it. Anthony promised to train me in secret. We would hunt together one day, brother and sister vanquishing the beasts of old. And then he died on me."

Elizabeth immediately felt horrible. "Cassandra, I'm sorry— I shouldn't have pried…"

"No, it's all right." Cassandra gently waved her free hand. "You've lost a brother, and you know the pain of it better than anyone."

"I do," Elizabeth murmured. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

"I do not." Cassandra took a deep breath. "A group of apostates wanted dragon blood and wanted Anthony to get it for them. He refused, and they killed him for it in front of me. I begged the Chantry to let me become a Templar. Instead, they sent me to the Seekers. It took many years to let go of my drive for vengeance."

"I understand how you feel, Cassandra." Elizabeth exhaled. "It's hard to want revenge and not get it. You want justice for the hole in your heart."

"Yes," she replied. "At the time, I could not breathe; the rage nearly choked me. I sometimes wonder how different my life would be if Anthony was still alive. Would I be a dragon hunter? Married to some noble fool, a mother of three? I cannot say. I take solace in believing the Maker has a plan, but…"

"He's not always kind," Elizabeth finished her thought. "You don't seem to like your homeland much."

"My family polluted it for me," Cassandra lightly snarled. "What little I saw of my homeland was through the bars of a gilded cage. My uncle treated me like a porcelain doll to be placed on a shelf and dusted only when necessary. Thus I did not see Nevarra, the real Nevarra, until much later. By then, I realized I knew it not at all."

"You're uncle?" Elizabeth wondered. "What about your parents?"

"They had the misfortune of taking the wrong side in the second attempt to overthrow King Markus. The king executed them but spared my brother and I since we were family, and children at the time. Thus we were raised by my uncle, a Mortalitasi who preferred the company of his corpses to the living."

"Your uncle was a Mortalitasi?"

Cassandra nodded. "He still is. My countrymen do not burn the dead; they bury them in special crypts. The Mortalitasi supervise the crypts like priests. Uncle Vestalus oversees the Grand Necropolis. Nevarrans spend more time there honoring dead relatives than they do with living ones. It is odd to be fascinated with death and its trappings. I will never understand it."

"So" Elizabeth helped Cassandra clean everything up before packing it, "you were the Right Hand to the Divine?"

"To Divine Justinia, yes," she affirmed, "and Divine Beatrix before her, in fact. The position is normally reserved for Templars of the Knight-Divine, but my circumstances were… unusual."

"Unusual, how?"

Cassandra looked at the young woman, surprised. "You don't know the story? Thank the Maker."

"What?" Elizabeth's eyes went wide. "Why do you say it like that?"

"I will tell you if you wish." She sighed. "But, it isn't as exciting as some drum it up to be. The short version is that I once saved the previous Divine's life. My reward was becoming her Right Hand."

"What does a Right Hand do, exactly?" Elizabeth inquired.

"What is your hand capable of?" Cassandra shrugged. "It gives, it takes, it beckons, it makes a fist. Leliana and I extended the Divine's reach beyond the Grand Cathedral. We went where she could not. After Beatrix, I was tired of the position and wanted to return to the Seekers. But Justinia convinced me to stay. Her vision for the future gave me hope."

"You thought she could change things." Elizabeth grinned.

"Justinia knew the war was coming long before it began," Cassandra confessed. "She tried to avert it, but the forces arrayed against her were too strong. Sometimes you have to break a bone so it can be reset. That's where the Inquisition comes in. It was to be the answer: a means to preserve as well as an agent for change. I only wish she had lived to see it."

"All right, Cassandra." Elizabeth got comfortable. "What's the story about you becoming the Right Hand?"

"Sweet Andraste, do you want to hear that?"

Elizabeth snickered at her reaction. "Shouldn't have offered then, Gorgeous."

"I did." She rolled her eyes. "It was, what— eighteen, twenty years ago? Some still discuss it like it happened yesterday. The tale gets bigger each time it's told. I barely recognize myself within it now."

Elizabeth shook her head with a smirk. "I'm sure you're just modest."

"I was there," Cassandra snorted. "I think I know how it happened."

"Oh!" Elizabeth put her hands up. "Sassy Cassie."

Cassandra exhaled. "To hear others tell it, I alone saved Divine Beatrix from a horde of dragons sent to assault the Grand Cathedral. Rather impressive for such a young Seeker, wouldn't you say?"

Elizabeth voiced, "You're all kinds of impressive."

Cassandra chuckled at the use of Varric's line. "More so than the dwarf, I guess."

"What's the truth, my lady?"

"I merely stumbled upon a conspiracy to kill Beatrix," Cassandra began. "A Templar Knight-Commander was at its heart. There iwas/i a dragon battle at the Grand Cathedral, but I had help from loyal mages who rallied to the cause. They freed the dragons from magical control. Without them, the Divine and I would have both died. Yet I became the Right Hand, and they are forgotten."

"Well" Elizabeth thought for a moment, "it makes sense."

"How?"

"Mages attack at a distance," Elizabeth replied. "We have help from the Fade with our magic. Not that a single mage could defeat a dragon—"

"You could," Cassandra said.

Elizabeth nodded. "I could, but it's my destiny, not theirs. My point is, a dual-wielding rogue or warrior has to get within the stomping range. It's much more dangerous for you, so it's understandable how you got more fame."

"I suppose you are correct."

"What did happen to the mages that helped you?" Elizabeth inquired.

Cassandra jolted her shoulders. "They went back to their Circles, with rewards and privileges and Most Holy's gratitude. Many of them died at the Conclave."

"I think you're a hero," Elizabeth assured. "No matter how you try to downplay it."

"Fine." Cassandra exhaled. "But it was twenty years ago. I will not rest upon my laurels."

Elizabeth put her hands up. "I understand."

The two of them peered up, noticing soldiers and townspeople filtering out from the gate. Cassandra and Elizabeth continued to converse as they trekked to the tavern, where Cassandra dropped off their things. Elizabeth waved goodbye, leaving through the side door.