Title: 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.
Elizabeth exited the tavern and took a moment to breathe in the fresh, crisp air, eyes peering up at the sky. It was gorgeous and sunny despite the Breach and its ominous cloud formations. She was at ease until she noticed shouting. Elizabeth cautiously made her way up the passageway, nearing the Chantry. Templars and mages stood on opposing sides, with spokesmen in the middle.
"Your kind killed the most holy!" the Templar accused.
"Lies!" the mage responded. "Your kind let her die!"
"Shut your mouth, mage!" the Templar spat as he went to draw his sword.
Cullen stepped in between them. "Enough!"
"Knight-Commander!" The Templar gulped.
Cullen glared. "That is not my title. We are not Templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition."
"What does that mean, exactly?" The Chancellor encroached.
Cullen sighed. "Back already, Chancellor? Haven't you done enough?"
"I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' will restore order as you've promised."
"Of course you are," Cullen gave him a dirty look, then turned at the rest of the men standing there. "Back to work. All of you."
The crowd went in separate directions. Elizabeth put her attention back on the Chancellor and Cullen as she approached.
The commander sighed as he shook his head. "Mages and Templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."
The Chancellor looked at Elizabeth. "A mage was responsible."
Elizabeth scraped the tip of her tongue on her back teeth then scoffed. "I was proven innocent, Chancellor. I never claimed to be a Herald. I was given that title, and I have yet to accept it. As for whoever is responsible, we will find them, and we will bring them to justice. But only by those who are authorized to give it."
"We require the same 'proper authority' to guide them back to order."
Elizabeth stepped closer to the Chancellor. "Who? You? Random clerics, who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"
The Chancellor inched toward her. "The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste'? I think not!"
"If the 'proper' authority hadn't ultimately failed, the Conclave wouldn't have been needed!" Elizabeth retorted as she stepped even closer to him.
Roderick mirrored her action, putting them inches from each other. "So you suggest I blame the Chantry and exalt a murderer? What of justice?"
"That won't help restore order in the here and now!" Elizabeth hissed.
Roderick huffed. "Order will never be restored so long as this rebellion is allowed to fester."
"The mages and Templars are fighting even though we don't know what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. That's the wound that's festering, and I'd bet my life on you being the infectious pus causing it."
Roderick glared at her. "The same could be said for you and that explosion. If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it."
Elizabeth laughed in a demeaning manner. "Or would be happy to use me as a scapegoat!"
Roderick's eyes squinted until they became slits. "You think nobody cares about the truth?"
"Obviously not!"
"We all grieve Justinia's loss!" Roderick scolded her.
"While I am conveniently swept under the carpet." Elizabeth crossed her arms.
"Your organization is flouting the Chantry's authority, is not helping your case of supposed innocence!" he said a little louder.
"That is your opinion," Elizabeth resounded.
"You're a heretic, blaspheming laws laid down by Andraste herself!"
"And that—" she yelled, getting in his face "—is your opinion!"
"We'll see where that view takes us," he snorted, walking away slowly.
Elizabeth peered at Cullen, a bit heated. "Remind me why you're allowing the Chancellor to stay?"
Before Cullen could answer, Roderick turned toward them. "Clearly your Templar knows where to draw the line."
"My Templar?"
"Were you not seen leaving his hut this morning?" The Chancellor smirked. "It all makes sense."
Elizabeth went to lunge after him, but Cullen grabbed her.
"He's toothless. There's no point in turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth." Cullen's disgusted expression molded to serenity when his eyes fell on Elizabeth. "The Chancellor is a good indication of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."
Elizabeth exhaled. "Least that makes him good for something other than getting on my last nerve."
Cullen chuckled. "It was entertaining to see you two go at it. At least you know your way around a debate."
"Five brothers," she reminded him. "I had to know how to hold my own."
"I suppose so." Cullen bowed.
"I didn't have a problem with him until he insulted you and your honor."
Cullen softly sighed, an aura of slight bliss and pride in equal measure. "How was your lunch with Cassandra?"
The two made their way toward the gate. "It was good, but I was unaware that the Seeker lost her brother. It bubbled up some feelings."
Cullen grabbed her arm, stopping them both. He observed her for a moment. "You haven't properly grieved, have you?"
"No," she replied. "I can't."
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone needs me at my best, and I can't take the time to do that." Elizabeth paused. "Bellators, due to their healing abilities, are empathic by nature. Grieving for us is, well, you saw it this morning. That was for a man I didn't even know. Imagine if I grieved over my brother, my womb mate. When I lost Rachel, I became an entirely different person. I don't want anyone here to see that side of me."
"I'm not just anyone anymore," Cullen murmured. "I'd like to think we've become friends. If that isn't a presumptuous assumption to make."
Elizabeth placed her hand on his face as it turned a light shade of pink. "It's not, and I'm honored."
Their faces were close together, enough to feel each other's breath.
"Yes!" They looked over and saw Varric, causing them to separate. "Damn."
Elizabeth giggled as she drifted by him, scratching at his chest hair. She made her way toward Solas. Varric faced Cullen.
"What?" Cullen's shoulders tensed.
"You two are going to kill me, Curly."
"Good," Cassandra said. She turned to Cullen. "About twenty families just came in. Some experienced men among them."
"Great." Cullen motioned them through the gates.
Elizabeth climbed the steps leading her to Solas. When she made it to the top, she noticed him studying the Breach, much like he always did when outside.
"'What does it mean to pierce the Veil, that which separates our world from the realm of dreams and demons? For the average man and woman, it is frightening to consider just how fragile this separation actually is.'"
Solas turned to her. "Is that from a book?"
"Yes." Elizabeth nodded. "'The True Threat of Magic' by Lady Seeker Alandra Vael. She says that even though we compare it to cloth, it isn't a physical curtain or a structure limited to a particular place; that it's everywhere. It is in homes, in the streets where people walk, or in farmers' fields and remote mountain vales. It could be torn to shreds, allowing demons and other horrors to flood into our world like water through a burst dam."
"Yes," Solas agreed. "What else do you know about it?"
"Well, known lore tells us that small rifts can indeed be sealed, but what about a large one? What if some catastrophic magical event created a rift so large and horrific, it weakened the integrity of the Veil as a whole? Such a 'Breach' would threaten our entire world, turning concerns about occasional demonic intrusion into a charming anecdote compared to the monsters we would then face. If there is anything to be done, any reason we should look at magic with fear; it is for that possibility more than any other." Elizabeth gazed at Solas. "Sound familiar?"
"Is that an excerpt from her book as well?"
"Yes." Elizabeth got closer to him. "Interesting how even many years ago, words could not be more true."
"Like leaves in a breeze, words are carried from one place and time to another," Solas replied. "They tumble and clumsily fall, but provide color to a blank canvas. They decorate the fabric of the world, giving life to silence. Words can't die though their stories change. History remains the same because we forget their relevance, doomed to a life of repetitive action."
"That is beautiful!" Elizabeth beamed at him.
"You inspire me," Solas said. "Your poetic way of happily living life, despite the negativity all around you."
Elizabeth reverted her gaze back to the Breach. "What were you thinking as I approached?"
"I was thinking that closing the Breach is our primary goal." The elf turned to her. "But, I hope we might also discover what was used to create it. Any artifact of such power is dangerous. The destruction of the Conclave proves that much."
"You don't think whatever created the explosion got destroyed in the blast?" Elizabeth wondered.
"You survived," Solas replied, "did you not? The artifact that created The Breach is unlike anything seen in this age. I will not believe it destroyed until I see the shattered fragments with my own eyes."
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "I agree that we would do well to try and recover whatever created the Breach."
"Leliana's people have scoured the area near the blast and found nothing," Solas mumbled. "Whatever the artifact was, it is no longer there. In any case, did you need me for something?"
Elizabeth shrugged. "Nothing particular, just coming by to check on you. Had a few questions about the Fade, too, if you're willing?"
"What would you ask?"
"How much of it do you know?"
"A great deal," he responded. "From my wanderings. There are few hard facts, but I can share what I have learned."
"Well, first off, what can you tell me about the Breach?" she questioned.
"Simply put" he looked up at it, "Seeker Vael was correct. The Breach is a tear in the Veil between this world and the Fade, allowing spirits to physically enter the world. Small tears occur naturally when magic weakens the Veil or the spirits cluster in an area that has seen much death. But your mark allows you to exert some control over the Breach. That means it was created deliberately."
"Tell me your view of the Veil, Solas."
He nodded. "Circle mages call it a barrier between this world and the Fade. But, according to my studies in ancient elven lore, that is a vast oversimplification. Without it… imagine if spirits traversed freely if the Fade was not a place one went but a state of nature, like the wind."
"Honestly," Elizabeth leaned on the wall. "It sounds like it would be wonderful. But you cannot have one without the other."
"Yes. Which makes it dangerous," Solas responded. "But, a world where imagination defines reality, where spirits are as common as trees or grass. Instead, spirits are strange and fearful, and the Fade is a terrifying world touched only by mages and dreamers. I am glad that I am not alone in seeing the beauty of such a world and the obvious peril."
"Tell me more about your thoughts on demons." She folded her arms.
"Your Circle says that demons hate the natural world and seek to bring their chaos and destruction to the living." The elf shook his head. "But such simplistic labels misconstrue their motivations, and in so doing, do all a great disservice. Spirits wish to join the living, and a demon is that wish gone wrong."
Elizabeth unfolded her arms. "Is there a way to coexist? To live with them, if not in peace, at least without such active confrontation?"
Solas smirked with approval. "Sadly, not in the world we know today. The Veil creates a barrier that makes true understanding most unlikely. But the question is a good one, and it matters that you thought to ask."
Adan stepped out of his hut. "Solas, I need your help— Oh, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth greeted him in return, "Adan."
"I am not interrupting, am I?"
She shook her head. "Not at all."
Adan nodded. "Also, I talked to the Templars, we should be able to meet tonight. I will let you know if anything changes."
"Perfect!" Elizabeth placed her hand on Solas' arm. "We'll talk later."
"Goodbye, my lady."
Elizabeth smiled as Solas entered Adan's cabin. She turned to face Leliana, meeting with one of her scouts as she descended the stairs.
"So it's true." She looked at a parchment in her hands. "Butler has turned on us. I hoped my hunch was wrong."
"You knew him well?" her scout asked.
"Not as well as I thought." She exhaled, then held her hand out. "Show me the reports." Leliana studied them for a moment then shook her head. "There were so many questions surrounding Farrier's death. Did Butler think we wouldn't notice? He killed Farrier. One of my best agents, and knows where the others are. You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless, if you can. We were friends once."
The scout looked from Leliana to Elizabeth, nodded, and turned to the Spymaster. "It will be done."
"I'm sorry you had to see that," Leliana gazed at Elizabeth. "Trust me, everything I do is to protect our interests. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Leliana walked off toward her tent.
"Good talk." Elizabeth sighed.
Elizabeth noticed she had a few hours before dinner, so she went back to her hut. When she walked inside, Spirit greeted her with a letter that had familiar handwriting on it.
Trevelyan,
I received word from Teyrn Cousland. The memorial service is tomorrow afternoon into the evening. Wear something decent, but maneuverable in case we have to get you out of there quickly. We will leave here around noon.
Cullen
Elizabeth responded, letting Cullen know she received his message and she'd be ready. Spirit flew out the window, Elizabeth going to her satchel, riffling through it, searching for one of her more beautiful sets of traveling clothes. She found her black pair, dressing the mannequin, combing over it. Elizabeth made sure they didn't need washing, and there were no holes, tears, or stray strings. After studying it, she padded to her desk, rummaging through letters. There wasn't much of anything exciting or of great concern. Her travel journal caught her attention from the corner of her eye, causing her to pull it over and open it.
Elizabeth,
As I thought, Knight-Commander Greagoir knew Cullen's full name: Cullen Stanton Rutherford.
Wynne
Elizabeth recalled Cullen's question from last night. While she indeed had his last name, she decided to wait, especially since her original nickname for him caused him to blush. Elizabeth peered down, going over the letters she and Cullen passed back and forth.
Elizabeth waited in the slow-moving line, going through the doors of the Chantry. Highever was a bigger city than she initially thought. Cullen was beside her, standing as close as he possibly could. Two of his soldiers tagged along and were behind them. Elizabeth stood there playing with her necklace, moving the locket her brothers gave her back and forth across the chain.
"How was the meeting last night?" Cullen wondered.
"It went well," Elizabeth replied. "I am pleased these men and women are willing, and even anxious, to kick the habit. It will make them stronger. I will be meeting with each of them over the next few days, getting their information, and possibly even putting a few on regimens. I will be setting aside time as a group for all of them as well. I'll get your men and women back to a hundred percent, Commander, don't worry."
"I trust you."
Cullen glanced at the small woman. Feelings of desire surfaced, attractions beyond friendship, a realization that stuck him over drinks in his cabin. The letter swapping didn't help, or maybe it did. Regardless, Cullen wanted to know her more intimately and be a friend in the hopes of eventually becoming more. The way flares of gold and amber danced across her delicate features in the firelight, the next morning's sunbeams eliciting a dance of glimmering ivory on her honey skin. It made him frustrated in his craving to touch her. He shook the thoughts away, gazing forward.
Cullen's eyes were eventually drawn back to Elizabeth as if she were metal and his sappy orbs were magnets. Today, she was dawning black embellished pants and boots with different shades of gray. The blouse had four pieces; the first, a standard dark gray long-sleeved tunic with light gray laces on the forearms. The following section was a black hood and collar; over it was a bright gray sash dropping to her knees with slits up the sides, revealing ashy gray cloth and a belt around her slim waist. Dull, dusky strands in place of fiery curls fell from her hood, straight teeth lightly biting a ruby-colored lip as her crimson-painted fingernails tightly grasped a locket necklace. Cullen, Elizabeth, and escorts advance three steps, then another standstill.
"You look beautiful today." Cullen cleared his throat.
Her now molasses-colored eyes peered up at him, a smirk underneath them. "Thank you, Cullen. As do you."
"Well, I am perfect." He smiled.
"I won't live that one down, will I?"
"Probably not," he said truthfully. "But, I currently only have one to hang over your head."
She nodded. "That you do, and it's fair that you play it as much as you'd like."
"Thank you." He bowed his head. Cullen noticed Elizabeth studying him. "What?"
"Add your height." She blushed.
"My height?"
Elizabeth jolted her shoulders. "I like tall men. Can't help it."
Cullen smirked. "Obsession added, Trevelyan."
The line finally went through the door, and Cousland was with a few of his people at the front greeting those in attendance.
"Welcome, Cullen." He shook the commander's hand. "It's good to see you alive and well."
"You as well, Fergus."
"You'll be sitting with me." Cousland motioned them toward the front. "Just tell Robert, and he will get you seated."
"Thank you." Cullen bowed.
Numerous people littered the Chantry auditorium, mostly lingering in the aisles. Elizabeth and Cullen were arm-in-arm, but it forced their arms to fall as they advanced. Cullen instinctually seized the woman's hand, firmly but not painfully holding it in his. Cullen's soldiers stayed close behind; all four of them wove through the crowd. Even though Elizabeth changed her outward appearance before coming, she made sure to keep her head down, per Cullen's request. However, the action led her to stare at their gloveless interwoven fingers. Even with rough calluses from years of wielding a sword and shield, Cullen's hands felt soft, warm, and were near twice the size of Elizabeth's. Once they got to Fergus' man, he motioned them to their seat. Elizabeth crossed her legs, leaning closer to Cullen.
"How long have you known Fergus?" she whispered.
Cullen shrugged. "Many years. I know Miriam. When she came to the Circle, for study, Fergus would often come with her."
"Oh," she realized. "I didn't know."
"She is the one who kissed me." Cullen turned so red an apple looked dull in color.
"What?!" Elizabeth's eyes widened as she giggled. "You're still alive, so I assume that Fergus doesn't know."
"He does," Cullen hesitated.
"You went to Kirkwall, so you weren't assassinated," Elizabeth deduced.
Cullen shook his head, trying to hide his amusement. "You are difficult."
"You love it. It keeps you entertained."
"You have too much confidence in that opinion."
Elizabeth snickered. "Not opinion, my dear. Fact." Cullen smiled. "Tell me, Commander, does it feel good to be back home where everything is familiar?"
"I missed the food," he confessed. "The lifestyle. But little else aside from my family."
"Have you written to them to let them know you've returned?"
He faltered. "Not yet."
Elizabeth resumed her teasing, "You are a bad man, Commander."
"You're one to talk."
"Mhm." She straightened her lips. "Figures you'd project your naughtiness on me. You do realize where we are, do you not? The Maker hears you."
Cullen shook his head at her with a smile as she resumed toying with her necklace. He stopped her, seizing it in his grasp, examining the titanium oval.
"This is beautiful."
"A gift from my brothers. It's in tune with my mana, so when I open it, their images shuffle through."
"Who's who?"
She paused as the images started over. "My parents, Aiden, Aiden and family, Brian, Brian and family, Cellen, David and Samuel, Rachel, Emery, my father Garrett, and my mother, Farah."
"You have a gorgeous family." He closed it.
"Thank you." She wrapped her fingers around the wrist of Cullen's hand, currently letting go of the locket.
"How are you holding up?" he inquired.
"I'm sad. I knew Justinia well, though not as well as Cassandra and Leliana. I miss her."
"I truly am sorry, my lady," Cullen's eyes sparkled.
After about another half an hour, everyone began to find their desired seats. Fergus joined Cullen and Elizabeth, leaning over, holding his hand out.
"Thank you for coming, my lady," he greeted. "I apologize for not saying anything to you at the door, but I didn't want to draw attention to you, despite your change in appearance. Your men are safe here, but many are looking to get their hands on you."
She dipped her head. "Thank you, but I wouldn't miss this."
He chuckled. "From the sound of Cullen's letter, it seemed not."
Elizabeth spoke, "You can't listen to a word Cullen says when it comes to me. He likes to spin his stories a little."
Cullen shook his head, trying to hide his amusement. Fergus laughed. "Still witty."
"Sassy more like," Cullen retorted.
"We'll try to keep you from being detected, my lady," Fergus promised. "Should you need a quick escape, look for Robert. He'll lead you out of here through a secret passage. I've also closed the town portal, but there are horses in the back, they'll take you five miles south to an outlying village. The portal is just before the town. It's ready for you."
The Chantry mother approached the podium, getting everyone's attention.
"Please stand as I recite the Chant of Apotheosis two, Andraste's death." The woman motioned them to stand. "The sky grew dark. And the ground began to tremble as if in mortal dread. The crowd before the gates, both Tevinter and faithful, fell silent. The heavens wept, and yet no rain could extinguish the flame, which was now a funeral pyre. Wind swept across the city like a terrible hand in rage. And the Tevinters who witnessed this said: Truly, the gods are angered.
In sorrow, the crowds dispersed. The army of the faithful turned southward, to the lands from which they had come. The legion of Tevinter hid inside the walls of their city and watched the sky in fear.'"
"Amen," everyone said.
"Thank you. You may be seated." The attendees complied as the mother continued, "Thank you all for coming, during this trying time, but as we know, Andraste is true to her word. She will reveal those who are responsible and cut them down without mercy." Cullen saw Elizabeth ball one of her fists. "Divine Justinia was pure," the mother kept going. "She was as pure as Andraste, and like the Bride of the Maker, she gave her life unnecessarily for heretics."
Now both of Elizabeth's fists were balling. She managed to cover the mark by changing her appearance, but Cullen knew if she persisted, the mark would flare, and her identity would be compromised.
The mother proceeded, "Justinia was killed by those she sought to protect, just as Andraste tried to protect mages, she was let down and led to the stake." Cullen snatched Elizabeth's left hand, holding it to his chest as he subtly shook his head. "We will see justice. Pray for Justinia to have a smooth passage to the Maker's side. Pray for her followers, and for all those that are doing her work. We were all blessed to know her. Please kneel as we take a moment of silence."
The large group knelt on cushioned benches before them. Elizabeth said a prayer in her head. Upon finishing, she noticed Cullen praying, but he explored her fingers as he did. He was making it increasingly difficult to want mere friendship. Elizabeth internally smiled as she admired him, contemplating what he might be thinking. Her head gently fell to his arm, her other hand following.
"Please stand as I say the Chant of Benedictions four, verses 10 and 11." The mother bowed her head. "'Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood, the Maker's will is written.'"
After a few testimonials and words from people who personally knew the Divine, the mother ended with another chant. Cullen, Martin, Alex, and Elizabeth trailed Fergus out of a side door. There was a buffet for those in attendance to have food and conversation.
"Me paenitet, si in servitio commoveri. (I apologize if the service upset you.)" Fergus rounded to a position before her.
Elizabeth smiled sincerely. "It's all right."
"I should have told the mother to keep her sermon more on point," Fergus said with disappointment. "She knew Justinia personally. It took her time to adjust to the Inquisition, but she would take your head if she could."
"A mother has that sort of training?" Martin*, one of Cullen's men, asked.
"Do not make the mistake of thinking all of them are prissy Orlesians not willing to get their manicured hands dirty," Fergus responded, then looked at Cullen. "Keep an eye on Elizabeth. I am going to mingle so as not to draw attention. Stay as long as you would like."
"Thank you, Fergus." Elizabeth took his hand. "Et soror tua causa valeas. (And for your sister's sake, stay well.)"
He chuckled. "You know our family is a crazy one."
"We are. At least we can say the Maker and His bride had a sense of humor, no?"
"Yes." Fergus turned her attention to Cullen and shook his hand. "Take care of her, Cullen. You have no idea how priceless this gem is."
"I've got her," Cullen guaranteed. Fergus left, Cullen facing her. "I've never heard that language before."
"Nor would you unless you knew a Bellator before me."
"As I stated, I knew Miriam moderately well." Cullen motioned to the teyrn, then peered back at Elizabeth. "But, I never knew what she was until Leliana told me recently."
"It's our language," she replied. "'The Twelve' are born with the knowledge; it is our first language. It was passed down. We are taught from infancy. I can speak it better than English. If you could understand it, you would be able to tell the difference."
"Feel free to speak it at any time." He smirked. "It's beautiful."
"I do believe you just gave me a compliment without blushing," she pridefully stated.
"We all get at least one, my lady."
"We do," Elizabeth confirmed.
"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. "Nothing looks familiar."
"Have you not been introduced to Ferelden cuisine yet?"
She shook her head. "Only a few things. What's good?"
"Tell me what you want. Meal, snack, sweet, salty—"
"After that display, I need sugar."
"Wait here."
Alex* and Martin remained close to Elizabeth as Cullen padded to the food-lined tables. She conversed with the soldiers as they consumed hearty plates they retrieved for themselves. The two escorted Elizabeth to a tree with a swing. She sat down, her body becoming a soft moving pendulum.
"We had a swing on our tree back home," Alex reminisced. "It would go high. Fell out of it a few times, jumped out a few others. Broke my arm, both my legs, a few ribs…"
Martin laughed. "No wonder you're all wonky."
Elizabeth echoed. "Those are quite a few broken bones, Alex. I bet your mother was testy, especially since you were supposed to be a lady."
Alex shrugged. "She had two other girls to fuss over. Not like your situation, my lady."
"I was lucky that my mother was a bit boyish herself," Elizabeth replied. "With six of them, including my father, she knew a lady just wasn't going to happen. But I gave her some good days."
Martin's right eyebrow twitched. "Meaning you were a terror."
Elizabeth shook her head. "You know, Marty, you've been spending too much time around the commander."
"What sort of nonsense are you putting in their heads now?" Cullen questioned.
"Not nonsense." She looked up at him. "Truths."
Cullen motioned her over to the tree's trunk, Elizabeth taking up a position next to him at the base.
"All right, Cully, what did you get me?"
"A blueberry lemon scone and a brandy snap," he responded. "They're among my favorites."
"Well, you just can't go wrong with blueberries and lemons together," she replied. "If you could put a taste to a sunny, spring morning, I imagine it would be blueberries and lemons."
"I'm glad we understand one another."
Elizabeth took her scone and broke off a piece and ate it. "Mm, it's incredible!"
"I'll make a Ferelden out of you yet."
"This really isn't good." She exhaled. "I love food too much to be introduced to new cuisine."
He smiled. "You wouldn't know it."
"I guess I can thank my parents for that." Elizabeth jolted her shoulders again as she finished another bite. "Both of my parents look like they traipse all over the countryside daily. My father and brothers are a lot like you. Burly men who would intimidate a giant. But they're among the most soft-hearted people you will ever meet."
"Big teddy bears, hm?"
"They are," she confirmed. "Since I was smaller, I could sit in their laps, wrap their arms around me, and they'd envelope me like a giant blanket. I loved it."
"Is that why you like height?" Cullen wondered.
"Maybe," she thought for a moment. "The height thing is awkward."
"What do you mean?" Cullen asked.
"It's…" she took a deep breath. "I'm not sure how to explain it. Maybe it has to do with the heartbeat."
"Heartbeat?"
Elizabeth nodded. "I was colic. I had bouts where nothing helped except Aiden laying me on his chest so I could hear his heartbeat. He'd swaddle me up, and I would just lay there. As he got taller, the only time I could hear it was when he lifted me up. Then, I got to be the perfect height, so now I can lay my head there. Sounds silly, I know. I guess most things about me are."
Cullen shook his head. "They make you uniquely you. That's not a bad thing in the slightest. I like it. It's something that helped you. Why be ashamed of it?"
Elizabeth agreed, "I am pretty quirky, I guess. I just like tall men. It isn't the thought of protection like it is for most women. Height has nothing to do with that, such a silly notion, though we remain prisoners to biology. Some people prefer a certain eye color, hair color, or weight. Everyone has preferences."
"That they do," Cullen responded. She lifted up the brandy snap, and he motioned to it. "You'll like that one the most, I think."
"It looks like the Osti dessert we have that my sisters love."
"What is it?" Cullen asked.
"It's called fry-bread cream. The dough is thin and flaky, and the cream in the middle is lightly spiced," Elizabeth glanced at him. "I will have my mother send the supplies, and I will make you some."
"You bake?"
Elizabeth nodded. "I don't mean to brag, but I am pretty good at cooking in general."
"Shouldn't have told me that, Trevelyan. You aren't the only one who likes food." He motioned to the dessert in her hand. "Go ahead." Cullen motioned. "I guarantee that once you try this, it will become your favorite."
Elizabeth took a bite and sat there for a moment. "Mm!"
"Good?"
Elizabeth turned, her back leaning against his arm, her head falling to his shoulder. "This is perfectly delicious. Now all I need is the sound of your voice to be complete."
Cullen flushed again. "Maker's breath! How do you make flirting effortless?"
"Because I say what I feel and have no shame." She glimpsed over her shoulder. "All those years in the Circle must have dulled my filter." She peered at Alex and Martin. "Am I coming on too strong?"
Alex shrugged. "I don't think so. But then again, I'm not, you know… you, flirting with someone who used to… you know attack people like you."
Elizabeth clicked her tongue. "Say what's on your mind when it's on your mind, Cullen. Give it a whirl!"
"It's not that easy," Cullen defended.
Elizabeth sat up, gazing into Cullen's eyes. He blinked a few times but kept his intense stare, basking in the color of her iris' despite their unfamiliar hue. Her pupils were relaxed. She must have understood his intent studying because a smile slowly ghosted her face.
"One day." She exhaled. "One day, you will verbally joust me, and I look forward to the challenge."
Alex yelped as Martin attempted to whack her with something, causing him to fall back out of the swing with a thud. All four of them were in an uproar over Alex and Martin's playful bantering. The small company conversed, having a relaxing time in the company of their group. As the service's number dwindled, Cullen, Elizabeth, Alex, and Martin shuffled to the horses behind the Chantry.
"I'm sorry. We could only spare two right now." Fergus motioned to them.
"They're perfect." Elizabeth approached the horses.
Alex and Martin climbed on one, still making jokes and giggling. Cullen jumped on the other, then helped Elizabeth up.
"Thank you for your hospitality." Cullen shook Fergus' hand.
"You're always welcome."
As the four left the area, Cullen felt Elizabeth grip a little tighter, her arms hugging his waist, head resting against his back. They followed them to an outlying village as the town's sunset lights guided them. A few guardsmen located close by took the horses once Cullen, Alex, Martin, and Elizabeth dismounted. The group passed through the portal, Elizabeth locking the passage to Highever.
"Thank you two for escorting me today."
Alex bowed. "You're welcome, your worship."
"My lady." Martin bowed as well.
Alex and Martin dismissed themselves and went to their tents to get some rest. Cullen and Elizabeth entered the gate, and just before separating, she turned to Cullen.
"Thank you for letting me go today, and also for going with me."
Cullen bobbed his head. "It was my honor, Trevelyan." They began to walk in opposite directions, but Cullen got her attention once more. "Herald?"
Elizabeth turned. "Yes, Commander?"
"You do know you're free, right?" She observed him curiously. Cullen continued, "A Moment ago, you thanked me for 'letting' you go. You aren't trapped here."
Elizabeth felt the sincerity in his voice, but what she felt inside herself wasn't anywhere close to that. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.
"Cullen, I hear the candor in your voice, and it's genuine." She hesitated for a moment. "But with all due respect, I'm not free. Being up there" she nodded toward the remains of the temple, "my innocence was proven, but I see the looks people give me. I'm guilty because I'm a mage. I murdered the Most Holy ibecause/i I was there, and I didn't do anything to stop it. Now the mark… I can close rifts and restore order to a chaotic world. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't walk away and let all of this sort itself out. Between the on-edge Templars, the mages who think I betrayed them, and the brothers and sisters of the Chantry always watching my every move," she shook her head. "I iam/i trapped here."
Cullen looked down for a moment, then back up into her eyes. "I guess you are right. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry if—"
Elizabeth put her hand up, placing it on his chest. "I know what you meant, and I apologize for rambling." She sighed. "I shouldn't have done that."
"I told you I was here for you to vent, Trevelyan."
"I know," Elizabeth agreed. "But, I shouldn't have. I've been in the Circle since I was little. I dreamed of the day where being there was more like a school. I could attend class and learn in safety, then go back home and have dinner with my family like I was an average person. I dreamed of the Templars having the same, allowing them to take pride in who they were and what they stood for, instead of being so tired and overworked." She paused for a moment. "But, here recently, I've felt more trapped, more than I ever was in the Circle. I feel more restricted—"
"Alone," Cullen said, their eyes locking.
"Yes."
"You're not," he replied. "I don't know what it's like to have magic, but I know what it's like to have people looking at you with accusing eyes. I also know what it feels like to be trapped, restricted, alone. At one time, I looked at you, and I saw many things, but I learned better."
"Now?" She stepped closer. "Now that you know what I am exactly and what I can do... how do you feel about me?"
"I trust you," Cullen said directly. "I have faith in you more so than anyone else. Even Rylen, and as you know, he is one of my most trusted. I depend on you because of what and who you are. When I took my vows, it was for the sake of Andraste and all that is holy. Now I am commanding her child's armies. There is no greater calling, and there is no one I'd rather do it for than you. There's no one else I'd rather be trapped and alone with. I'm sorry for what we did to you, Trevelyan."
"Thank you, Cullen. I know it sounds childish, but for even one person to say they are sorry for what they put me through… it's healing."
"I should have said it sooner," he confessed. "But I am saying it now. It isn't childish. We owe you at least that."
Elizabeth gently turned his face and placed a warm kiss on his cold cheek. When she backed away, she grinned. As she arrived at the door of her hut, she peered back over her shoulder.
"Cullen?"
"Yes, Trevelyan?"
Elizabeth toyed with her fingers in nervousness. "I want to apologize."
"For?"
"My inappropriate, ill-mannered sleeping habits. I apologize if you saw anything." As she was speaking, she noticed him look to the side and blush. "Oh, Maker. Cullen, I—"
He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "It's all right. I had it coming after the spring." Elizabeth snickered. Cullen's eyes gazed into hers. "It wasn't at all unpleasant if that helps."
"Does it?"
Cullen exhaled when he stumbled on realization. "I've opened a door I can't possibly close."
Elizabeth winked with a smile before entering her cabin. Located inside was a letter from Varric. He stopped by to check on Spirit and light a fire, leaving the room toasty on her arrival. The blaze was mere embers now, so she added more timber, then shut her windows. Elizabeth disrobed, climbing into bed with a satiated groan. Spirit glided over, perching on the opposite cushion. Elizabeth was only lying there a few moments before falling asleep.
Cullen was leading exercises with his men the following day, but it was a bad day. The pain of withdrawals was in and out, and it was a struggle to see through intermittent blurry vision. Cullen noticed a few stragglers falling behind in the back; he took advantage, sending everyone ahead. After the stragglers ran past, giggling captured his attention. The commander peered to the right of his position. Cullen saw part of Josephine's face as she laughed, then caught familiar rosy curls dancing in the light breeze. He pushed aside some branches, noticing the two ladies resting on a rock, conversing.
"So, how was your trip?" the Ambassador asked.
"The service was a bit paganistic, but what can you expect from someone like me sitting in the audience?"
Josephine chuckled. "I imagine it's difficult. How was your time with the commander?"
"He is shaping up to be an exceptional friend," Elizabeth replied. "He's a good man, and you can't say that about most. There are few decent people in the world. It doesn't seem like he's let recent events shake him; his beliefs remain intact. Though a little stern, I like that about him. It shapes who he is."
"You've heard people talk about his time at Kinloch, have you not?"
"Oh, Josie" Elizabeth's brows furrowed, "don't believe everything you hear. Yes, I have heard the things people say, but I highly doubt if it were that serious, he'd walk around and tell everyone. He's not the type to want other people's attention. When he chooses to confide in me, he will. But he'll be telling me, and I wouldn't hurt his trust by telling anyone else."
"Have you confided in him about what happened to you?" Josephine wondered.
Cullen saw Elizabeth hang her head. "No. We aren't close enough for that. Besides, it's the same tale every mage tells, is it not? One tires of hearing it. Most of them weren't even touched by Templars, much less gang raped. They cried wolf to cause problems and deepen their animosity."
"I am glad that you haven't let it change the woman I know and love." Josephine began playing with Elizabeth's curls. "Cullen is a good friend to have, and your chemistry meshes well."
Elizabeth chuckled. "He makes me laugh; I like that most about him, I think."
"You do love to laugh." Josephine grinned. "He cleaned up nicely yesterday."
"Did you tell him to shave?"
"It was a memorial, he was going as the face of the Inquisition," Josephine defended. "But no, it was a combination of Mother Giselle and Leliana."
Elizabeth sighed. "Those two."
Josephine's right eyebrow rose. "You have always loved the rugged type."
Elizabeth glanced back at her. "Cullen looks good with robust features, add the scruff to the scar above his lip…" Elizabeth shook her head. "I shouldn't be so crude, but sometimes I just stare at him and think about all the places that scruff could tickle and scratch."
Cullen felt his cheeks and neck burn. He knew he was blushing as he heard Josephine laugh. "I do believe that is more than friends talk, my lady."
"He makes it difficult to focus."
"I imagine, with how touchy you can be, it was difficult to restrain from touching him the other day at the spring."
Elizabeth exhaled. "Immeasurably. But I wasn't going to step out of line. Just because I like to be touched doesn't mean I assume everyone else does."
"Well, I don't see why you don't just go for it and court." Josephine shrugged. "But you asked me to be your voice of reason, so, I will be."
"I just like having someone to talk to about my life. If I take this too far, I could lose that friendship." Elizabeth paused, processing her thoughts before continuing, "We may be friends, but I can tell when I look into his eyes, he's afraid of me, or what I'm capable of, or possibly both. I have you, and my family, Varric and Cassandra, but Cullen was actually in the Circle. He knows the evil and the good. He has a sense of what my life was like, and I, his. Just makes things easier to let him handle the situation and take the lead."
"It's good he opens up to you," Josephine said, combing out the braid she put in Elizabeth's hair. "Even if it's only a little. He needs a friend here."
"I feel privileged that it's me." Elizabeth peered over her shoulder. "I'm not closed off to more than a friendship, but he has to be able to reciprocate. I can't hurt him, Josie. We've become close, I won't do wrong by him. That is why I need you to be my voice of reason."
Cullen smirked, leaving the ladies to their vices. He sprinted toward Haven, arriving moments later. He counted heads, double-checking the number; everyone was there. Cullen took the soldiers through a few exercise drills and then sent them to clean up and fill their bellies. He drifted to the spring, washing and soaking his aching body.
Elizabeth and Josephine waltzed up to Haven when they noticed Cassandra, Varric, Solas, and Leliana sitting off to the side in the log circle.
"What are you guys up to?" Elizabeth asked.
"Breakfast." Varric shrugged.
"It's a beautiful day." Leliana smiled. "We thought we'd eat outside."
"Though that decision has limited our options." Solas observed his bowl.
Elizabeth examined his bland food. "Oatmeal is delicious, but not if you always eat it plain every day. Here."
Elizabeth sat down and cut up some peaches, then added some cream and a pinch of sugar, mixed it in, then handed Solas the bowl. He took a bite of it, then looked up to her.
"This is much less distasteful. Who knew you could do such a thing to something so bland."
Elizabeth moved closer to Varric as she prepared her oatmeal. She added cinnamon and cut up an apple. Cullen appeared, plopping down next to her. Elizabeth turned to him, acknowledging his presence.
"How were the exercises this morning?"
"A few of the new recruits were lagging behind," he replied. "But everyone is shaping up, and they work as a team. They are doing well."
"Good." Elizabeth held out the red fruit. "You want my other half?"
He looked at the apple, taking it from her and cutting it up into his bowl, adding some cinnamon.
"Are you ready for Val Royeaux today, Herald?" Leliana asked.
Elizabeth shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Which way do you think it will go?" Varric wondered.
"Honestly, I don't know. It depends on the type of people we encounter. At this point, it seems that we either meet individuals who are with us or so strong against us, they want me dead."
Cassandra peered at Cullen. "The men still haven't confessed who sent them by name?"
"As quiet as church mice, the most I got was the Chantry. No one specific." He exhaled. "The man the Herald rattled hasn't done anything more than grunt."
"Does he eat at least?" Josephine questioned.
Cullen nodded. "Seems to."
"Can you do that to anyone?" the Seeker inquired.
Elizabeth stirred her oatmeal. "It's complicated."
"How?" Cassandra continued.
"Well, I'm always given a 'foot-in-the-door' when I talk to people," Elizabeth began. "It's what allows me to be empathetic to you."
"What about lockjaw?" Varric nodded back toward the Chantry.
"Things can become problematic." She took a deep breath. "I can't always choose what is shown to them. Some people feel better afterward, others have gotten hostile because they feel as if I invaded their privacy. Which is fair, because I have. Willing or not willing makes no difference. When I enter, there isn't anything that's hidden. I will know all lies and all truths in a matter of seconds. Not everything about my plight is a blessing."
"I disagree." Solas leaned forward. "Just because someone feels violated doesn't render your blessing a curse. They aren't angry at you so much as being exposed. Every secret they've kept in the dark is now in the light. The Maker chose that path for them, not you."
"Thank you, Solas." Elizabeth grinned. "I wish others felt the same."
"I do, but only because I saw what the Hero did in the lives of others," Leliana added. "Do not let negativity determine your views on your gifts. He did give them to you for a reason."
"Knowing Hawke and what he could do" Varric leaned closer to her, "I have to agree."
"I know you." Josephine peered up from her food. "I think that makes me biased, no?"
Elizabeth chuckled. "Maybe a little."
"When would you like to leave, Herald?" Cassandra wondered. "I have a few things to take care of before we go."
Elizabeth gazed up at the sky. "In an hour? I need to talk to Giselle before we leave, but I still want to get to Val Royeaux a little early in case we run into any problems. Is that alright with you two?"
Solas and Varric bobbed their heads as Elizabeth stood up. She placed her bowl in the washbasin. A firm grasp seized her satchel then walked past Cullen, intentionally grazing his back. She made her way toward the Chantry, hoping the mother was inside. When Elizabeth stepped through the doors, she caught a glimpse of Giselle and a woman conversing, but the woman was retreating when Elizabeth arrived.
"Greetings, Herald of Andraste." The mother bowed her head with a gracious smile. "How fares your quest to seal the Breach?"
Elizabeth took a deep breath. "I'm doing everything within my power."
"A task such as closing the Breach is a heavy burden," Giselle said with sympathy. "I hope you do not carry it alone. We remember Andraste, but Andraste did not carry the Chant of Light alone. She had generals, advisors, even her husband, for a time. Do everything within your power, but remember those who help you."
Elizabeth bowed her head. "I appreciate your insight, Mother Giselle."
"Take it for whatever it's worth. You walk a difficult path, and there is little enough I can do to aid you. In any case, I pray this Inquisition proves less brutal than its predecessor."
Elizabeth motioned for her to sit on one of the few benches remaining in the building. Elizabeth sat beside her, studying the statue of Andraste.
"As an Ellorian, it is your duty to council Bellators if you come into contact with us."
The mother nodded. "Yes, it is."
Elizabeth turned from the statue to Giselle. "I would appreciate your council now, not because it is a duty, but because I need it."
"I will offer you any aid I can, my child. Ask anything of me."
"Well, for starters, a history lesson," Elizabeth admitted. "I have had little time to read, and as someone who can't lie…"
Giselle smiled. "Ask."
"Can you tell me about the original Inquisition?"
"Yes," she replied. "It was formed after the First Blight, well before the Chantry as we now know it. The Inquisitors were hunters, zealots who tracked and killed cultists and dangerous mages. As Andraste rose to power, the Inquisition came into her service. Do you not know all this?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "It's not common knowledge until Ascending."
"Much will be revealed when you do," the mother cooed. "Instead of hunting those who should do harm, the Inquisitors spread the Chant of Light by force."
"Being Ellorian must make it difficult to follow the Chant of Light, especially after knowing how it spread."
"Indeed," the mother confessed. "Regardless, I have always believed that the Maker wished us to spread the Chant of Light by example, not violence. In any case, once the Chant of Light had spread far and wide, there was less need for zealots. The Inquisitors became the Seekers of Truth, and eventually the Templars."
"I have to admit that this is a dark chapter of history for the Divine to revisit."
The mother asked, "Do you know what impresses me most about the original Inquisition?"
"Tell me, Mother." Elizabeth faced her.
"They fought horrific battles, killed and died for their cause," she answered. "When it was time, they put their swords away. Perhaps, that was Divine Justinia's message: when the Inquisition is needed, it will strike without mercy. But when its work is done, it will put its sword away."
"I don't believe I've had the chance to speak candidly with the Revered Mother." She grinned at Giselle. "What can you tell me about the Chantry?"
The mother raised an eyebrow. "I presume you mean deeper questions about the organization itself."
"Tomato, tamato." Elizabeth blushed a little.
The mother lightly laughed. "Even in the Circle at Ostwick, you should have been taught the basics."
"I was," Elizabeth replied. "May I ask those deep questions?"
"I was told you were quite the inquisitive type. Please, ask what you would like."
"What is your stance on magic?"
"Andraste put it simply: magic must serve man, not rule over him." The mother paused. "However, those words must be put into the proper historical context. Andraste led a rebellion against the Tevinter Imperium, whose magisters controlled most of the world. Even then, she never called for those mages to be put to death. She believed in peaceful coexistence."
"And after her death, the Chantry became less tolerant." Elizabeth sighed.
"The Chantry has become an imperfect vessel, pulled in every direction by those who would steer its course," the mother confessed. "Yet the Templars rebelled precisely because Divine Justinia was not restrictive enough. Perhaps the Inquisition will find a better way, especially with you at the top. You know the truth, and you know how to get us back on course."
"I do remember that there were calls for an Exalted March to put down the mage rebellion," Elizabeth looked from her hands, back to the mother's face. "What was your opinion?"
"It was ignorant gossip," she replied. "An Exalted March only succeeds when it carries the will of the people. Even then, it cannot be undertaken lightly. People are too easily frightened. We cannot destroy everything they fear. An Exalted March is justified only against a true threat to this whole world. It is an offense to the Maker to use it as a political bludgeon, or as a means of spreading the Chant of Light."
"What about the Exalted March that conquered the elves?" Elizabeth wondered.
Giselle shook her head. "That is a hotly debated matter in some circles in the Chantry."
"Really?" Elizabeth sat forward. "Why's that?"
"The elves conquered Montsimmard and threatened Val Royeaux itself. They were not helpless victims. But even then, Orlais was the only nation to provide troops. It was hardly an Exalted March of all the faithful. The Maker wishes His word to spread by example, not by war. We win no converts with blood."
"As I have not Ascended, it is unclear," Elizabeth sat puzzled. "Why does the Chantry allow only human women to become priestesses?"
Giselle grinned at her. "Why is pretty common knowledge. However, the answer you really seek is not. It would indeed be something that would be answered with Ascension. The official doctrine is that elves and dwarves have turned further from the Maker than humanity. As for men, the Chant holds that they are more vulnerable to anger or passion. But in truth, it is simply political, added after Andraste's death, like too many of our beliefs."
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment as she fumbled with her hands, she took a deep breath then exhaled. "If you don't believe these restrictions are what Andraste wanted, especially knowing the truth as an Ellorian, why haven't you tried to change them?"
"Has the current state of the world not taught you the folly of fighting too many battles at once?" The mother asked humbly. "I chose to use what power I had to help the peasants forgotten by the nobles of Orlais. I believed there would be time to address their inequality under the Chantry once we had saved them from starving."
"Are you almost ready, Herald?" Cassandra tapped Elizabeth's shoulder.
Elizabeth stood up then bowed to the mother. "Thank you for all your help and wisdom."
"Be safe, my child."
