Incorruptible

by super ginger

Alduin is dead. Purpose and duty fulfilled.Uthreida, Dragon Born, Yesimir of the North, is ready to return, But Tsun's shout is redirected, and finds herself in a land that is similar yet so very different from her home. Commander Cullen is hopeful for the future of the Inquisition. Until an unknown Dragon Slayer falls under his Command that makes him question everything he knows.

2. Chapter 2

A/N: All names and likenesses are owned by Bioware and Bethesda.

So, for story purposes, assume that Uthreida accent like a standard Nord (Icelandic) but dialect or cadence is Breton (Scottish). I want to showcase her accent, but at the same time, that's a lot of red squiggly lines.

Obligatory trigger warning: I lovingly hate Cullen. This whole fic is a Cullen bash. Tread lightly.

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Uthreida looked at the grand castle in yellow flagstones. "Such craftsmen's ship."

Alistair nodded in agreeance. "I'm sure there's a long history here, but I haven't brushed upon it."

Uthreida gave a small smile as they were ushered in. Alistair made small talk of a runner that informed the Inquisitor of their arrival as they made their way to the stables. "I do feel the need to warn you." Alistair started as they made their way to the main hall. "Inquisitor Trevelyan is…stoic." He looked at the girl's ice-blue eyes. "And well protected." He added for extra measure, his eyes cutting to her weapons and throat.

She arched a brow. "Inciting another civil war and picking sides isn't exactly on my 'to-do' list. Fear not. Worse case, they'll say I've enraptured you in some sort of, what did you say, blood magic?" She gave a reassuring smile. "Let us see what happens."

He gave a nod as they reached the top of the stairs into the main hall. People lined the entryway. Uthreida allowed the King, Teryin, and Arl to go first but was grabbed on the arm by the King. She was led at his side, unyielding, no one noticing his secure grip. "Wouldn't manacles be more appropriate, my King?" she gave a teasing look that spoke masked annoyance more than anything.

He simply beamed at her. "Nonsense my lady, you're a guest." He gave the same teasing look that warned her to be on her best behavior.

She gave a heavy sigh and looked around the room. Full of humans, and Mer. No beasts? Uthreida was looking at the banners and all the decorations wondering how much she could get for all this back at the Thieves Guild.

The man on the throne that had swords or points coming out the back of it stood with wide arms. "Our gracious King Alistair. Welcome." He walked down the stairs. His blonde hair was short with a bit of bangs cutting into his right eye. His face was scarred above his left brow and the right side of his square chin. His tanned, high cheekbones stood in contrast to his pearling white teeth. He stood half a head taller than Uthreida making him around five foot eleven. He was wearing a bland grey shirt with darker pants and brown riding boots. "We welcome all to Sky Hold, your Grace." The Inquisitor and the King held each other by the wrist and pumped once. His round brown eyes turned to Uthreida. "And who is this?"

Alistair gripped her by the arm once more but more gentle than before. "This is Lady Uthreida. She's a professional dragon slayer." She gave a slight head bow with a smile. "She saved my caravan of supplies from a roving dragon, all by herself." There were ooh's and whispers from the crowd.

The Inquisitor's eyes shifted from polite to intrigue. "And you, Lady Uthreida, are you a professional dragon slayer?"

"Aye."

"And how many have you slain?"

Uthreida paused. It's not as if she was keeping a record. "You sort of lose count after they get annoying." There were titters of laughter hidden behind open hands. She didn't want to lie, and seeing as how she gave the same response to the King, it seemed fitting.

The Inquisitor gave a smile of his own. "A professional dragon hunter. I do believe that the Inquisition could use one of those. Or more. I'd like to discuss contracts with you when you get the chance." She gave another head nod and another smile. "Bannor, please help yourselves to what we have. And do forgive the mess, we just moved in." There was again some soft, polite laughter and continued conversation. The Inquisitor leaned into the king. "You arrived in time, my King. Our stocks were almost depleted, and the casks somehow went missing. A true mystery."

Alistair gave a polite smile and leaned into the Inquisitor's side. "Uthreida has some information that I believe you would find useful. I would like to have a discussion with the three of us and one of your trusted spies to validate its accuracy." He gave a quick wink to the man who only smirked.

"Of course." He gave a nod. "Allow me to tie up a few ends, and we can have this discussion in a few moments. Feel free to look about as you two mingle." The Inquisitor grabbed his arm in friendship and walked past him.

Uthreida arched a brow at him. "I'm going to get interrogated again, aren't I." the boredom in her voice almost oozed even as she smiled at the king.

He flashed a condescending smile. "Such a clever girl."

She gave a heavy sigh, unable to leave his arm. A waiter brought wine, cheese, and bread to those who waited in the main hall. She noticed that he only ate with one hand, the other on her arm under her pauldrons. Forcing her to do the same. He was able to keep out of most conversations by leaning into her ear and whispering small orders such as 'please nod your head', 'smile quickly' or 'I'm waving my arms to look like I'm telling you an interesting story, feel free to laugh at any time'. This ploy gave the appearance of a courtship between the two. The onlookers would see the King as a happy couple, and the reality was she was waiting to be executed.

Alistair was the first to notice with an "ah" and turned the two around. Uthreida jumped back slightly at the huge, muscle-bound, horned, grey-skinned male before her. He was the biggest Dumer she had ever seen. And with horns no less. He wasn't wearing a shirt but dark red and green striped pants like her own and an eye patch on his left eye. She looked between him and Alistair to her right multiple times. Alistair smirked. "Qunari." She tested the word before looking at the Beast.

"The Inquisitor has requested that I take the guest to his private chambers for his meeting." The Qunari said in such a deep tone. It was impressive. And slightly unnerving.

Uthreida looked at Alistair. "Just me then?" he released her arm and gently pushed the small of her back. She took an uncomfortable step towards the giant. The Qunari held his arm for her to take, which she did hesitantly. The large man put his other hand over hers as a way to calm her down. It must have been a learned trait, as his smile seemed to match the gesture. Learned, because you don't get those muscles and scars from being a nice guy.

"I'm The Iron Bull, by the way." He guided her across the room to a door and opened it, allowing her to go first.

She nodded at his kindness of the door. "Uthreida Storm-Blade."

He held out his hand for her to go first through the door. She looked down the hall, along a narrow staircase, and a large warrior walking behind her. So, this is how she dies? She lifted her chin, and walked in, up the stairs, turned the corner, came across another door, opened it, and walked up a few more stairs.

The landing was barely more than a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, a table and a few chairs, and an amazing view of the mountains. The Frost Back Mountains, if she remembered Alistair telling her. King Alistair. The windows were high arched like nothing she had seen at the Blue Palace.

The Iron Bull was watching her. She could feel his eye inching over her form. She wanted to turn, but she didn't know how to play this part. If Alistair freaked out over the fire, how will the others respond? Will they kill her? Alistair didn't believe her truth, meaning that what's normal to her is different here. Should probably not talk about her guilds or showcase too much magic, like she had any. And after their brief conversation regarding religion, it might be best to keep that secret too.

She solidified her mind on the one clear truth: They had a dragon that needed to be slain, otherwise, she wouldn't be here. Focus on that one truth, and you should be fine.

With a confident breath, she turned to analyze the Qunari behind her. What she found was a three hundred plus stone man, with biceps that would decapitate a horse, looking at her with admiration and excitement. She was not counting on that. "You hunt dragons?"

She lowered a brow. "Aye?"

"That's so hot." He stated breathlessly, his eye-rolling back. "What's it like?"

"Um," you think you'd get used to answering that question, but everyone has a different perception of what it's like to kill a creature of pure power. "It's difficult to explain. For me, it's just who and what I am." He gave a disgruntled sound like it wasn't what he was looking for. He studied her closely like she was him. His one good eye showed too much intelligence for some brawler.

"Ya see," he was distracting her, "It's said that the Qunari come from dragons. Hence, ya know, the horns. I always imagined that killing a dragon, this great monstrous beast would be more satisfying. Feeling the hot, slick blood on the blade. The smell of the scales and hide as entwines with my sweat. The scent makes me want to gag yet revel in it." He's comparing killing a dragon to sex. Uthreida arched a comical brow. Using an uncomfortable topic to lose focus. Damn, he's good.

She interrupted. "I am not from this land. I'm sure there are things I'm expected to say and things I shouldn't. Do you have any tips?"

The door opened and both turned to look. He turned to her. "Just tell the truth. You should be fine." He stated gruffly, walking past her, and taking a seat at the table.

Uthreida watched the door. The Inquisitor, King Alistair, and a Thane in red and black fur at his shoulders entered. The Inquisitor was carrying a bottle, and four stemmed glasses. "Thank you for waiting, I do apologize." The Inquisitor stated with a smile. The Thane stayed by the stairs, blocking the only means of escape from the room. His hand was on the pommel of his sword, his eyes fixed on her and the others in the room. "I am the Inquisitor Royoc Trevelyan. Again, it's a distinct pleasure to meet you."

Oh, so we're starting with pleasantries. "You as well. I heard from the caravan what your order is trying to do. Sealing gates from the oblivion, correct?"

He placed the four glasses carefully down and gave a slightly alarmed look. "Among other things, I suppose. Please, take a seat."

She eyed the chair that was offered to her. Closest to the wall, opposite the window, full light on her face. She nodded, thanking him, and sat gingerly. "I'm going to assume that the King has already filled you in on some of the more" she paused, looking for a word that won't offend or get her killed, "colorful pieces of the story."

The Inquisitor gave a small smile as he opened the wine bottle. "Yes." He started to pour wine and offered her a glass. She accepted but didn't drink. "But I'd rather hear it from you."

"The whole thing?" She asked with a bland tone.

"The whole thing." He confirmed, his hands folded and resting on the table.

With a heavy sigh, she did just that. She spoke, they listened, asking the occasional question, and told only the story as it retained to Alduin. When she was done, they were silent. "That is a fantastic story. I'm truly impressed. Someone with your experience, battle prowess, and abilities would certainly help the Inquisition. However, the question remains, is any of this true?" Uthreida gave an annoyed gesture, but the Inquisitor simply looked at Iron Bull. "What do you think?"

The large Qunari had his hand on his chin as he studied her. A few silent moments passed when he took a deep breath. "She believes it to be true."

The Inquisitor arched a pale brow. "You do not?"

"I mean, don't get me wrong," he was fighting the smile and losing, "a hot tamassran, killing dragons, slaying a dragon god." He gave a lecherous sound of approval but quickly changed to a serious tone. "Her gestures, words, eye movements indicate she's telling the truth. Or what she believes to be the truth."

"What would you suggest?"

He gave a breath and leaned back in his chair. "That's custom armor. Onyx isn't cheap. And those matching weapons." He tilted his head to consider something. "The axe though." He tilted his head to look around the table at her hip that held the ebony ax.

Uthreida felt herself smirking. "Nothing reveals a man's heart like the axe."

He smirked. "True, but it's slower."

"I compensate."

He allowed the silent moment to pass as the Bulls smirk turned into a closed smile. "It's versatility."

She gave a small nod. "Axes are part of my culture. Every great Thane, King, Hero, has an axe. They are cheap, deadly, and effective in killing on the battlefield, or feeding the fire in the home."

Bull shook his head slowly. His horns tilted towards the Inquisitor. "She's either telling the truth, or she's a highly paid. Informant, if I had to guess. No assassin would use an axe."

The Inquisitor ran his hand over his face. "Cole could probably validate." He paused, "somehow."

Uthreida lowered her brows and looked at each of them. They all had a look of worry etched into their faces hidden by brute force. "This big beasty must be pretty powerful if it takes five spies just to validate my story."

The Inquisitor only nodded. "Which is why we must be thorough." He gave a breath. "Cole, are you here?"

"I am here, Inquisitor." A voice said behind Uthreida. She hadn't sense anyone behind her. When she turned no one was there. She was checking the stone wall for any signs of a silent entrance or exit. Finding none, she turned back around and gasped.

A pale boy in a wide hat stood next to the Inquisitor where there wasn't one only seconds ago. She grabbed her heart and relearned how to breathe causing the others to give a slight laugh or smile. Even Alistair seemed to smile but was just as concerned as she was.

The Inquisitor removed his smile and became serious. "This is Cole. He's a fade spirit."

Uthreida looked at him in alarming shock. "A spirit?"

"Yes." He nodded.

She looked at the Inquisitor then the boy. He was physical though. Solid. Was he bound? "Why would you do that to him?" Her tone was boardering on anger. Binding a spirit to the mortal realm is a relic of the past. A relic of the ancient ways and blasphemy to Arkay. "Arkay's will. His days are done. He doesn't have to live anymore."

Inquisitor Royoc lifted a hand "Please" he motioned to her chair. She hadn't realized that she had stood up. Sheepishly she took the chair, watching the man before her. "He is here of his own free will. I have not bound him. Cole is a spirit of compassion. He can look at memories of people and help them through their pains of the past."

She lowered her brows at the statement. "So he's a seer?"

He smirked. "Something like that."

She looked at the boy's blue eyes. "So, he's going to dig around in my mind, find a memory that proves I'm telling the truth, then what? Tell you yey or neigh?"

The Inquisitor clenched his jaw. "It's more, painful than that." he said kindly, "He heals the wounds of the past."

Uthreida let her jaw relax and leaned back in her chair. "Is this how you treat everyone?" suspicion in her eyes. "You open up old wounds, throw salt on it, and decide they are who they say they are. That's wrong. It's torture."

"You're asking us to go a lot on faith."

She snapped. She slammed the table and stood. "You're entire order is based on faith." She looked at King Alistair. His cognac eyes watching her closely with patience. His face revealing nothing. Uthreida shook her head slowly at him and his betrayal. "I'll find my own way." She walked towards the stairs when the Thane stood in front of her. His hazel eyes portrayed nothing as his hand remained fixed on the pommel. She met his gaze with anger. She had the power to throw him into the wall, and crack his skull. She tried to sidestep and he blocked her. The two faced off, neither moving nor giving ground. She could walk through him, literally, but she promised the king. She would not harm his people. Per her culture, she could not attack until he drew.

This one would be a challenge, her mind warned her. His stance was ready, his hand loose on the pommel, his shoulders tense. He was hesitant but ready. Uthreida kept her eyes on the Thane as she spoke. "It's this or the executioner's block, isn't it?"

She heard the Inquisitor take a breath while the Thane seemed to relax slightly. "I'm afraid so."

She stared at the Thane, seriously weighing her options. She had never fought one of these…Fereldens. She didn't know if they were tougher than Nords, or weaker. After all, they were only asking questions. But the past can hurt. This was getting dangerous. She hid too much of her story from them. That boy will kill her indirectly. She gave a loud exhale from her nose as she walked back to the table. She plopped into her chair. She raked a hand over her face and took a calming breath. This was either going to go well, or she was about to fight her way out of a castle. Here's hoping this boy doesn't get her killed. "You get one memory, lad. Make it count." She said from behind her hand. She leaned back and prepared for the pain.

There was a silent moment before the boy spoke, four sets of eyes on her, watching, waiting to see what she would do. "A land covered in mist, beyond the realm of life. Black wings unfurl, courage departs. I can't do this, I'm not ready. One Eye has me by the throat, 'you have no choice'. Fire from above, fire, warriors three. Die, die, I will die. One more hack, one more slash, he rears up and only black. Light escapes, it's not the same. life pools off, it's not the same."

Uthreida didn't realize she was shaking until the boy finished. His artistic portrayal of her final battle with Alduin amplified by his ethereal voice shook her to her core. She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Calming breaths, the fear was taking over. Calming inhales, fear of failure, out.

When she opened her eyes, Royoc brown eyes were watching her closely. "What does he mean, not the same?"

She leaned forward, head bowed. She licked her lips, her uncertainty. "When I kill a dragon, I absorb their soul. With Aludin, the spirit, I guess, escaped, and his black scales turned into black water." She tilted her head, trying to make sense even of her memory. "I didn't absorb his soul. It. It was different." She readjusted in her seat, not making eye contact.

"You failed." The Inquisitor stated without emotion.

She felt the words stab deeper than they should have. But he was right. She wasn't certain if she did kill him or not. It was all wrong in a way. It just felt-

"You have succeeded," Cole stated calmly, his voice sounding reassuring but broken. "Your mission was to rid the world of Alduin. Even if the spirit continues, you saved the people of Skyrim and Tamerial from the World Eater. He might come back, but you completed your mission." She wanted to believe, but how could he possibly know. Her blue eyes only fixed on him. "Now you're wondering if he is like me. A spirit trapped in the physical world. You can't kill a spirit-"

"I could kill you with a word. Stop." She covered her face with her hand and breathed.

The boy took a step forward. "But you won't." He sounded confident rather than smug.

Uthreida removed her hand from her face slowly and looked at him, defiance shining in her eyes. The Thane took a step forward. The sound of steel on steel drew her out of her mind and into her reflexes. The Thane was drawing his weapon. He took another step. She stood to meet him; drawing her axe and blade. "I'll earn my mead."

She ran to him. He drew a shield and held it up. She struck the shield with her axe, once, twice, three times. He pushed forward to knock her back. She spun to his side, dropping her position on the axe. The axe hooked on his shield. She held it out, hyperextending his elbow, and swung her blade for his throat. He released the shield, rolling away from her. She threw the shield behind her and watched his movements.

"Bull" The Inquisitor shouted behind her.

She turned. "FAAS RU MAAR" she saw the three men each jump back in fear of her.

With her back turned, the Thane used the hilt of his sword and hit her in the neck. She dropped her sword in pain. He kicked her knees, forcing her to kneel. He grabbed a hand full of hair and forced her to look up at him, his sword at her throat. "Yield." He demanded her.

Her eyes were frantically looking for her sword. "Yield" he shouted again.

"FUS ROH" he staggered back and fell. She rolled forward, grabbing her blade, and ran to him. She kicked the sword out of his hand and held her blade at his throat. He grasped the metal with his gloved hands and fought back. She stood over him, using her weight to push down on him. A smile crept onto her face as she looked at his determined features. This one is worthy.

He kept trying to turn the blade, kick her out. She was inching closer to his throat.

A hand grabbed her by the throat, forcing her off the Thane, the other hand extending her arm holding the blade. The eyes belong to the King. "Stop this." His tone was low. His eyes were unnervingly serious. He pulled her further from the Thane until her backplate hit a brick corner of the window. "Drop your weapon. Now." She looked at him, calculating the cost of losing a fellow Dovhikiin. She snorted a surrender, and let her ebony sword clang to the ground. Alistair slowly released her wrist, then her throat. She met his eyes, and he was just as angered as she was. She lowered her gaze, disappointment ringing through her.

The Thane stood, rotated his shoulder, and was breathing heavily. He was looking at her in pure anger and resentment.

"What do you think, Cullen?" Royoc tried to sound reassuring as possible.

The Thane kept his eyes on her, bending his elbow from the shield. In silence, he picked up his weapons and put them in their place. He turned and walked to the table. Alistair was still staring at her in quiet rage. "I think we're getting desperate."

"Desperate times, desperate measures," Alistair stated, his voice hollow, his eyes boring holes in her head.

Inquisitor Royoc looked at Cullen who was sizing her up. "She's stronger than she looks. Certainly skilled. But is that the kind of person we want with us? To represent the Inquisition?" There was a pause as the two exchanged looks. "She's dangerous."

Royoc took a ragged breath. The Dismay Thu'um was still present in the man. "I will not deny that. But do we want her in our hands or theirs?" The Thane grunted objection as he turned to leave. "She will be your charge, Commander." As soon as the Inquisitor said it, he stopped in his tracks. The Thane gave her a sneer that warned her to keep her distance. She met it with the determination that this fight wasn't over. He left the room in silence, his heels clicking on the stone and the slam of a door.

She looked up to Alistair, his anger subsided and he looked calmer, though, still disappointed. He left her standing there without a word and left, following after the Thane. Royoc walked next to her, mindful of his distance. "Welcome to the Inquisition. We will be heading to Redcliff tomorrow. Please prepare and get some rest. Iron Bull and Cole will show you around Sky Hold." He gave a bow and followed out the door.

It was her, the Qunari, and the spirit.

"Dick move." Iron bull rumbled. "But Epic." He stated in loud excitement. "No one goes against the Commander."

She picked up her sword and placed it back on her hip. "And what exactly does he command?"

"The Army."

She dropped her head. "Shores bones." He wasn't a Thane. He was the general. Losing prestige as a Thane is one thing, as a General was another. May as well fought the Inquisitor. Or the King. Fuck.

"Yea, not the best idea." Bull reiterated. "But hey, Redcliff." He gave an approving sound.

"Dragon?" She asked, retrieving her axe and placing it on her hip.

"Dragooon." Bull stated excitingly.

XxXxXx

Commander Cullen made it back to his make-shift office where Liliana was waiting for him. He closed the door. "What can I do for you, Sister?" He made his way around the desk and fumbled paper, pretending to look for something.

"I heard you got in a fight."

Cullen threw his head back. "Makers, it's been five minutes." He stated exasperatedly. He rotated his aching shoulder since she already knew.

Liliana gave a throaty chuckle. "I just wanted to check on you is all. I take it this, Dragon Slayer, is allowed to stay?"

He side glanced her and sighed. "Yes. Our new 'Dragon Slayer' is to be on a contract." His tone and posture showing annoyance. He removed his glove to see the damage her blade did on his hand. The cuts weren't too deep but it will make clinching a fist difficult for the next few days. He opened a drawer, pulling out a health poultice and bandages. He poured half the potion on his hand and drank the other half. Liliana took the bandages and helped him. He gave his thanks when she finished.

Cullen was putting his gloves back on when the Inquisitor came in with King Alistair in tow. "Oh, good, Liliana, you're here." Both gave a bow to the king.

"Inquisitor," Liliana said with respect. "Alistair."

He held up a pointed finger. "That's King Alistair now." He stated with his usual light heartiness and a smile. Liliana only smiled and ruffled his hair. "You're not supposed to do that. I'm a King. I'll tell my advisors on you."

She gave another throaty chuckle. "You'll always be that awkward, stuttering Grey Warden to me."

"But, I grew up," his tone was whiny but playful, "look" he smiled and pointed to the lines around his eyes. She gave a rueful look and both shared a laugh.

Cullen waited patiently for the two to stop. "What can I do for you, Inquisitor?"

Royoc ran a hand through his hair. "So, this dragon slayer. We can't tell people she's from a country that isn't on a map, a different planet, or even a different universe. So, what do we tell the men or the nobles who will be looking at her and us?"

Alistair took a step forward. "Tegan and I have been thinking about it as well. We think it's safe for now to say that some sailors from her country wound up on the beaches of Denerim. No one will confirm, because according to the city guards, no one sees anything anyways. We send an envoy, and she's their envoy to study the new land and people. Coming from a warrior culture full of dragon slayers, she asked to participate in the Inquisition. Watch reform as it happens, I guess."

Liliana lowered her brows. "What happens when people start getting curious?"

Alistair smirked. "You." She rolled her eyes and gave a ghost of a smile at the compliment.

Royoc stroked the shadow of a beard on his chin. "She can't very well pull off Andrastian and may make references to her homeland. And it's an impossible task to ask her to memorize Thedosan history and culture practically overnight. You saw what she was able to do, Commander, there's no way she's going to be able to hide that in battle." Royoc suggested.

Cullen dropped his face. "I saw blood lust. Why not just lock her up here in Sky Hold and use her when needed?"

Royoc gave an annoyed look at Alistair who rubbed the back of his neck in shame. "Because our allies now know we have a Dragon Slayer on contract."

"To be fair," Alistair pointed, "I honestly thought she was an assassin."

Liliana gave a cold look, "So you brought this Dragon slayer-assassin, on your arm, King, to meet the Inquisitor?"

Alistair paused. "Yes. Within constant view."

Liliana groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "King Alistair-" her tone was pointed and ready for a tongue lashing when he waved it off.

"The point is," Royoc re-steered the conversation, "what do we do now?"

The room fell silent, each lost in thought. Liliana was the first to speak. "If Corephus finds out we have a Dragon Slayer, it could give him a reason to pause."

"Or escalate," Cullen added. "Try to take out the threat faster."

"Forcing him to make a mistake somewhere," Liliana smirked at the realization.

"Or, if he does pause, formulate a better plan. Allowing us more time to make one as well."

"Or" Alistair suggested, "He could just shrug it off. Dragon Slayers don't exist-Arrg" he gave an impression of the stereotypical bad guy. "This means nothing, back on schedule."

"Well, with those three options," Royoric smiled at the idea. "Any more?"

Cullen hated what he was about to say. "Having a Dragon Slayer here would boost morale. A lot of the men are afraid of Corephus's Arch Demon."

"This isn't a blight." Alistair shook his head. "It might be tainted, but it's not a true Arch Demon."

"Says the expert." Liliana pointed out.

"Says the expert," Alistair smirked at her.

Royoc took a deep breath. "Liliana does raise a good point, what if people start asking questions. What then?"

Alistair shrugged. "We tell them that Skyrim has requested not to reveal their location to our Continent until some, I don't know, trade and explorer agreements are made. Per their laws. This way, it keeps only Ferelden in the loop, and no one knows what we're doing."

Royoc arched a brow. "You think that'll work?"

Alistair smirked. "That's the beauty of having agreements with a fake country, we can make up their demands and laws as we go while we look for the real country."

Liliana arched a brow. "You're actually going to go look for it?"

Alistair gave a coy smirk. "I think I can come up with one or two sailors that are curious about what's beyond the map. And, for good measure, put a bannor that annoys me on the boat to act as envoy for the new world." He shrugged. "Few months at sea might make them a little more…palpable in court."

"What if other countries follow your ships?" Cullen asked.

The King shrugged. "It's not like we know where we're going. Feel free to tag along. Besides, who knows, it may spark other countries to get curious as well, and, by that point, half the work's done for us."

Cullen tilted his head slightly. "What I mean is, what if they find her homeland first?"

Alistair paused, brows furrowed. "If that happens, Inquisitor, may I borrow your spymaster?"

"Of course." Royoc gave a bow and Alistair beamed.

Liliana put a hand to her chin. "While I hate to ask while Josephine isn't in the room, what about politics. Inquisitor, our allies know she's an envoy. Does she have any court training? Does she hold a position in…" Liliana cleared her throat, not catching what her homeland was called.

Alistair rubbed his chin. "She says she's dragon born. That sounds more like an order than a court appointment. We could play off that. And being a guild of dragon slayers, it might be understanding if she's a little gruff at court."

"Or barbaric," Cullen added, still feeling the pain in his hands.

Alistair gave an understating smile. "Exactly."

Liliana held up her hands. "Wait, her government?"

"King" Alistair helped.

"Her King asked a Dragonslayer to survey a new country? That doesn't make sense."

Cullen sighed. "Playing off barbarism, remember?"

Alistair snapped. "She served in the Civil War in her country. We can say she's a lefttentent in the army and a hero to the people. She was chosen because of…reasons."

"Reasons?" Liliana stated with a bland look.

"That we can come up with later." Alistair sheepishly grinned.

"So" Cullen stiffened his back and an honest look at the Inquisitor. "What happens when we find out her homeland doesn't exist? And all of this is a red herring."

The room went silent but it was Alistair who had the obvious answer. "Tried for Treason? I'm sure we can find one or two tokens on her persons that can link her to this Elder One."

Royoc took a deep breath. "This sounds like the only plan we're working with. Holes, anyone?"

Cullen arched a brow. "Can't we just tell people that she's Seeker Cassandra's cousin or something?"

Royoc arched a brow at Alistair. "No. She randomly appeared and saved the King's caravan."

Alistair rubbed his neck again with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

Liliana sighed. "We'd have to get with her and confirm what we will tell others."

"We should get with Josephine and try to take care of this a quickly as we can," Cullen suggested. "As well as an iron contract."

Royoc nodded. "Agreed. I'll inform Josephine of this conversation. Sister Liliana, would you care to escort King Alistair around the battlements?"

She gave a soft smile and a slight bow. "Of course, Inquisitor." Taking the King's arm, she lead him out of the room with both of them having a moment to catch up on old times and new ones.

The door closed behind them and Cullen watched Royoc slowly turn his attention to him. The Inquisitor took a deep breath. "How's your hand?"

"Fine." Cullen was defensive around him. He felt his body tense at his voice and didn't quite understand the reasoning. It was obvious he held a distaste for the Templar Order, but never spoke of it.

"You're shoulder?"

"Fine."

"Your patience?" He asked with a small grin.

"Growing taught." Royoc gave a nod in understanding, the same jovial smirk on his lips. "Inquisitor, is this really the best option we have? An unknown berserker, with unknown history-"

"Cole seems to-" Cullen groaned at the mention of the wondering spirit of the grounds. Royoc dropped his smile at the impertence of him. "Seemed to collaborate the story of the Dragon God. That is all we need."

Cullen gave a defiant look. "You also heard Bull. An actual spy, saying that she could just believe all this to be true. She has contacts with deep purses and access to blood magic to alter minds, memories. What if she's a Vinitori agent?"

Royoc shook his head. "Dorrian had a look at her. He said he's never seen that kind of armor before."

"It's. Custom. Armor." Cullen bereheated in frustration. "Of course he doesn't know it."

Royoc took an aggravated breath. "Where was this hesitancy an hour ago when I asked you, 'We have a possible dragon slayer here. Would you be interested in recruiting them into the Forces?' Where was your reserve for outsiders when you lit up like a child on Saturnalia morning? You accepted this. You wanted this. You have the problem here. You solve it."

"Done." He nodded with finality. "Throw her in a dungeon."

It was Royoc turn to roll his eyes at the man. "She came into Sky Hold on the arm of the King. I can't just throw her in there."

"Fine, wait until he leaves, and THEN throw her in the dungeon."

Royoc pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance at their continued circle of arguments. "How have you gotten this far being that short-sighted?" he murmured loud enough to hear. Cullen's nose twitched at the man, and his aching hand fisted. Royocs brown eyes met his in resentment with a deep breath. "Did it ever occur to you that she might be a spy from Tevinter, with a mission to befriend a king to act as leverage to get into the Inquisition? I don't know how many crossing of spies she is, but what she offers is easy enough to find out. If she kills a dragon, she will be of use. If not, she's no longer a problem. Why do you fight something that could potentially be an annoying headache for three days?" Cullen clichéd his jaw at the question. "Even if what she says is the truth, the King is now her ally. If we mistreat her, she could tell him, and now we are fighting the Ferelden army plus the venatori, Red Templars, plus Corypheus. Even if the King doesn't trust her, I cannot run that risk."

Cullen rubbed his temples. This game of politics always seems to get in the way of progress. But slowed at a realization. "If the King does trust her, why would he give her to us, instead of having her kill dragons in his homeland first?"

Royoc shrugged slightly. "Prioritization?" He held his hands up to weigh. "Whole world, one country."

Cullen shook his head. "No. He doesn't trust her either."

"And you know this because-"

Cullen crossed his arms, tapping a finger on the vambrace on his arm. "He doesn't trust her, but he needs her. He needs an informant. Someone higher, closer."

"To?"

Cullen locked gazes with the Inquisitor. "It's obvious what the King's ploy is. Get her to make friends with the locals and feed information back to him. After everything that happened in Redcliff-"

Royoc scoffed. "It's no secret that King Alistair was once a Templar-"

"Initiate-"

"What have you, and a Grey Warden. However, his leniency for the mages, because of the Hero of Ferelden, allowed them to take advantage of his hospitality."

"Mages you allied with."

"That went against your wishes." Royoc snipped through a clenched jaw. He took two steps towards Cullen threatening even without armor or his famous two-handed sword. "Why am I even here if you could do it so much better? Locked in a cell until you find a use of me?" Royoc looked at his right hand and lifted it for him to see. Cullen's annoyed eyes dropped to the dim green light that emanated from the Inquisitor's hand, then back to him. "It doesn't matter what the King's or her intent is. It doesn't matter why she's here. What matters is that we put her work and to use. Our use." Royoc took a breath and backed off. "Circling back to the main point. This dragon slayer. We are to leave for Redcliff tomorrow afternoon so she can prove her prowess in battle with the dragon that's there."

Cullen lowered his brows. "We?"

"Yes, we. I want you there to lead the Inquisitions humanitarian efforts with the locals. It's because of that dragon they are falling on even more hard times as it destroys property, families, livestock. I want you there to recruit."

Cullen gave a bow. "Understood."

Royoc gave a nod. Taking another step back, something out the window gained his attention.

Cullen looked but didn't seem to see what he did. He wanted to end the conversation and get Royoc out of the office and get back to work. He chooses a softer approach. "I understand your sister was taken to the circle at Ostwick." Royoc's eyes immediately fell to the floor. "And your brother-" Royoc's turned to look at Cullen with a dead face and raging eyes. "Joined the Order to watch over her."

Royoc arched a brow at the random drive in conversation.

"You know how dangerous they can be."

Royoc lifted his chin at him and took a deep breath and stated in a dark, even tone "I'm well aware of how dangerous 'they' are." Royoc spiteful glair on Cullen only solidified his knowledge that the Inquisitor had a hatred for the Templar Order. Royoc turned and exited, the slap of his heel hitting the wood floor hard in anger even as the door was closed silently.

XxXxXxXx

Uthreida followed Bull down to the stairs and made her way around as he pointed out a few things. Cole followed behind her, walking. Silently. Freakishly silent. She should learn a few things from him before this Inquisitor killed her. She wasn't really paying attention to what the mammoth of a man said as she followed him. Her eyes taking in the scenery and the people.

"First on the list," Bull announced as he came to a stop. "Varric."

Uthreida stepped around the beast and followed his hand gestures to a boy who sat at a table with his feet propped up with quill and paper in hand. His glassed hung low on the bridge of his nose as his brown eyes looked between the three of them. Uthreida squinted in confusion. This wasn't a boy. His jaw was thicker, his eyes wiser, and his prevalent chest hair proved he hit puberty. She arched a brow at the beast. Then the boy-man-thing.

This. Varric. Gave a smirk at her. Waiting for the introductions. Uthreida noticed his nose looked like it has been broken a few times. His smirk was more of a comical display more than anything. "If you keep staring, Ginger, I'm gonna have to charge."

Bull stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Varric, this is the new dragon slayer. Slayer, Varric Tethras."

The man gave a grunt as he moved to stand. When he did, Uthreida furled her brows again. He stood before her, to her chest, and placed his hands on his hips, looking her up and down. "Dragonslayer." he chuffed. "No shit." And smirked. His tone a combination of awe and hope. "Sure could use a coupla of those these days."

Uthreida opened her mouth to speak but nothing came and the mass of confusion filling her. The, man?, was short, but looked and sounded like a full-grown Nord. She tried again to Iron Bull, her eyes not leaving the shorter. She finally decided on just saying it. "I don't mean to be rude, but uhh.." She tripped again in her delivery as she just spat out the question. "Why are you so short?"

The man's mirth turned in an instant scowl. "I'm not short. I'm stout, bitch."

Uthreida threw her hands up in frustration. "Okay, that's fair. But, uhh, ya know."

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're acting like you've never seen a dwarf before."

"I haven't." She shrugged at the comment. He opened his arms in a dramatic gesture to himself, with a sneer on his lips. Uthreida looked him up and down connecting the dots. "Are you-"

"Yeah."

All of her confusion turned to excitement as she covered her mouth with her hands. He made an audible inhaled as she looked him over again. "Butwhy, ." she grabbed his hand to shake and inhaled again. "BytheNine,he' .Hello"

Varric looked at his hand that was being held by the woman, then looked at Bull who had the same look of confusion. "What just happened?" Bull shrugged.

"Thisisthebestdayofmylife. Tell me everything." Uthreida knew she looked like a fool with that big stupid grin on her face but was just too excited to care. A dwarf. A real, alive, standing before her, breathing, dwarf. Best. Day. Ever. After all the Falmer, all the ruins, all the stories and myths, and everything. Here was one. No pointed ears. Or height. Or the grace of a Mer. Or a beard. But a dwarf none the less. She covered her face as she laughed internally at the situation, missing Varrics confirmed confusion with Bull. "Please. I have to know. Are-are-are there more?"

Varric arched a very confused brow and slowly pointed across the room to another short man, with a beard, having his arms crossed.

Uthreida gave a squeal of delight as she saw him. She fanned her face in hyperventilation as she looked back at Varric. "Oh, I have so many questions. Uhh, how did you get here? How long have you been here? When? Where? Why? Uhh-ahh"

Varric leaned away from her. "Cole. Context."

"No, no, no, no, I'm sorry." She waved her hands to all of them to pull the attention back to her. "I'm sorry. It's just." She squealed again, as she looked back at the dwarf and he was still there. "Uhh" she closed her eyes and tried to formulate an actual sentence. "Where I am from. The Dwemer, the Dwarves, just…vanished. No one knows where they went or why or how. They just. Disappeared. Theories of singularity, of course. But, uhh, they, they left behind amazing ruins, and automatons, and history, and science. And you're real. This is real right?" She confirmed with Bull who looked at her with amused curiosity as she gushed over the shorter man. "Today is the best day."

Varric took a breath and a conscious step back. "Dwarves just…disappeared, huh? Interesting accent you got. Where you from?"

She met his gaze and beamed. "I'm" then the thought of realization hit her. She looked at Bull for confirmation that could or should answer the question. The beast gave something of a soft warning look at her that made her step back from the question. "not from around here." She tried for a charming smile that felt more guilty than anything. "Um" she looked to change the subject. "So, uhh, wha- What kind of questions should I be asking?" she asked Bull who chuckled at her.

The horned man gave something of a smirk then crossed his arms. "Varric is our resident storyteller. And pain in the ass."

Utheridas brows shot up quickly. "You're a bard?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Varric stated with mild humility. "I'm a writer."

"Oh" Uthreida deflated slightly. "What do you write?"

"Fiction serials. Meant to entice and enlighten my brethren in times of war and peace." Uthreida nodded in listening that he seemed to notice. "You don't read much do you?"

"I ah, uhh, well," she shifted awkwardly, "I don't have a lot of leisure time. So when I do, it's usually magical application, history- Sagas. I enjoy sagas. I've honestly never finished The Lusty Argonian. Everyone claims it's the best book ever, but I haven't, umm. Aye."

The Dwarf nodded with mild understanding but seemed like he was ready to end the conversation. "I'll see if can get you a copy of Hard in Hightown. You put that down, I'm doing something wrong."

Uthreida smiled at the man. "Will you sign it too?"

"I charge by the letter."

She gave a humorous laugh but smiled honestly. "Uhh" she shifted her eyes to bull quickly, then back to him. "We'll let you get back to work, but real quick. Is there, perchance, a…community?...of dwarves? That live underground? Still?" she gave a huge smile at the man.

He gave an annoyed brow but still smirked at her obvious lack of information about the land. "Orzammar. It's filled with rocks, darkspawn, and other stone sensing dwarves."

"Orzammar." She said as if trapped in an exciting dream. "What does it mean?" Varric gave a halfhearted shrug and looked more annoyed than anything. "Sorry, uhh," she looked at Bull who was apparently sensing his friend's tension. "It was a pleasure to meet you. Can we talk again? Later, obviously."

"You gonna ask me about more dwarf stuff?"

Uthreida played with her fingers in embarrassment. His distaste for the conversation being made known. "Probably." She took a breath and stepped away. "Okay, I won't." She said disappointedly as she turned to Bull.

Bull gave a chuff as he unfolded his arms. "Tavern. Tonight?" he asked Varric.

The dwarf cheered up at his friend even as he waved him off to back to his table. "Wouldn't miss it."

Bull turned and opened the door behind him, ducking low so his he and his horns could fit through. Uthreida's heart remained in the grand hall with the only dwarf she ever met that didn't want to talk about history or mechanics or trade or anything about the civilization she didn't know about. Whose ruins she had to walk like a vulture picking at the bones of a skeleton long since decomposed. She sighed to herself, knowing she won't get those answers from him, as Bull opened another door and ducked to enter.

"Solas" Bull announced as he entered with his arms wide. Uthreida entered behind him and froze.

Her hand already on the head of her ebony axe and taking a defensive stance at the Falmer. The Mer turned to face her. One hand held a book and the other behind his back. His head tilted slightly at her stance. Bull noticed but seemed more intrigued as to what she would do rather than imitate stopping her.

"Bull" the Falmer stated calmly, his eyes not leaving her.

Uthreida lowered her brows slightly. It spoke. They don't. How? He wasn't wearing the scavengings of dwemer ruins. His long sleeves and trousers seemed to fit with only minor stains and patching. Uthreida noticed that the Flamer stood still, watching her as she watched him. His back straight, not curled under the weight of his upper body and chains around his throat. His nose was intact. His cheeks weren't sunken in. His eyes were dark, not the cloudy, milky color she had grown used to. She felt her brows draw in confusion. He wasn't Falmer. But rather-

No.

No way.

She kept her skepticism as she stood taller, still defensive as she inched closer to him. Her hand on the axe as the enchantment of her boots muffled her course. They stood silently ten feet away from one another. She looked him over. The Mer had soft freckles along his nose and cheekbones. His brows were darker, unlike Gelebor's snow-white hair. His eyes weren't as almond-shaped as the Paladins. Even then, his nose, eye distance, skin, screamed snow elf.

She took half a step back. There is no way that this castle has two extinct Mer's living in its halls. She dared a darting glance at Bull, his pointed ears, dark metallic skin, and horns. How is all of this possible?

What year is this?

Her eyes turned back to the pale mer. He wasn't Falmer. She felt her hand ease off her axe. Uthreida dared another step closer and noticed his hand grip the book tighter, his shoulders squared ready for an attack. Uthreida lifted her hand from the axe, and showed him her palms. "Forgive me." She said above a whisper. One of his brows lowered for a second in confirmation of her words. She swallowed back the indecision of her next move. "Are you…are you a snow elf?" His long ears pricked at the title. "Falmer?"

"No?" he said, looking her up and down in confusion.

Uthreida's mind turned from the Falmer before her to the Dwarf on the other side of the door. She looked the elf over quickly, with quick panic in her heart. Not again. Gelebor swore. "Are you under duress?" The elf looked her over as if she was the only threat in his imitate presence. "Blink twice for yes."

The Mer paused, considering her words with his own understanding. He blinked slowly at her. Uthreida waited for the second. "I have to blink sometime."

She a nod at his answer and took a breath. He was safe from the Dwarves. But she couldn't shake the feeling that most of this was in illusion. Two different Mer's, thought to be extinct in her land. How were they here? Illusionary magic can only alter the reality of the one perceiving it. But the ultimate threat was nonexistent. "May I confirm this reality?" she asked, holding her hand out to him slowly.

The Snow elf looked at her then Bull. Then back at her. He was hesitant, either trying to figure out what she was saying, or not willing to reveal he was in fact an illusion. The mer slowly extended his hand holding the book. Uthreida slowly decreased the gap between them, both ready for a fight if it should come to it. When they were in range, Uthreida took a deep breath.

Her gloves felt the hardness of the bones in his knuckles and the warmth of his skin.

He was real. All of this was real. Two races still alive in…where ever she was. She looked from where they touched to his dark eyes. "This is fascinating." She smirked at the idea. Alive. Both were alive. She felt herself bubble with happiness for a moment as she looked him over. She felt herself smile fully at the elf who looked at her like she had lost her mind. "I'm sorry. What was your name again?"

"Solas." He said curtly, pulling his hand away as if he touched fire.

"Solas." She confirmed, making sure she didn't butcher it. "I'm Uthreida Storm-Breaker. I'm," she looked at Bull to decide what her position in the Inquisition was going to be. "I'm uh, the Dragon Slayer on retainer." She looked at him again and smiled. "It is an absolute pleasure to meet you."

His head tilted again but this time, in approval. "Dragon Slayer?"

"Aye" she nodded. Allowing him to steer the conversation.

"And your first instinct was to kill the elf."

Uthreida rubbed her neck in embarrassment as the blood ran to her cheeks. She held her hands if to calm him, but judging from his face, it wasn't something he was interested in. "Forgive me. From that distance, you looked like a Falmer. Up close, I was a fool to even think so. I am so sorry." She did feel the weight on her heart as she spoke and hoped he would understand.

He seemed to consider her words but was obvious he wasn't about to let the slight go. "You keep saying, fall-Falmir?"

"Falmer. The Snow elves."

"And you think I look like one?"

"You do." She stated factually, then back-peddled. "I mean, you look like a snow elf but-"

"But you just said that snow elves were the Fall-mer."

"Aye but-"

"But you kill Fall-mers on sight."

Uthreida, realizing she lost the argument, kept her eyes on the blank wall and accepted her fate of being called a racist Nord. "Aye." He gave a disappointed grunt as she rolled her neck back to him. She moved her hands as if ready to explain, but found the words were missing. She sighed, looked at Bull, and realized she would have to reveal history they didn't need to know. "What do you know of the history of Saarthal?"

The elf crossed his arms. "I've never heard it." Uthreida clapped her hands to prepare to inform him when he said, "I'm guessing it has to do with an elven slaughter."

Uthreida paused, pursing her lips for his ability to guess history. "Aye." She took a deep breath as he rolled his eyes. "After the Night of Tears and Ysgamor, the Falmer were forced to seek sanctuary with the Dwemer. The Dwemer offered sanctuary by servitude. They were forced to consume toxic mushrooms that rendered them blind, lose their hair and cogitation. They now act like vicious animals in the Dwarven ruins."

He arched a skeptical brow. "Are we talking about elves, or about Darkspawn?"

"Ahh…" She turned to look to Bull for guidance, as he stood there with his arms crossed watching the show. "I don't know." She said honestly. "I've never seen one or know what they would look like." She took a breath at his look of resentment. "You can call me a racist Nord, I'll accept it. But, history and personal experiences being what they are, all I ask is that you don't sneak up on me at night." He gave a look of mild tolerance at her. She bit her lips in awkward silence as she looked at Bull for guidance and didn't find any. "So, uhh, Master Solas, what do you do for the Inquisition?"

He slowly blinked at her, then turned to Bull with annoyance. "Is this a formal inquiry or a passing one?"

The Qunari gave a nonchalant shrug. "Why not both?"

The elf took a long breath as if trying to steady himself as he turned back to the Nord. "I am the leading expert on the Fade, Demons and spirits, and Elven history."

"Ohh" Uthreida smiled at the prospect. "How far back?"

She noticed a slight curl at his lip. "The oldest records I could find date back about 600 years ago. Though, I have spoken to spirits that were much older in faraway places. "

Uthreida pulled her head back at his claim in awe. "How old was the oldest?"

The elf shook his head slightly. "Even it did not know. And the moments it spoke of, I can't find in history."

Uthreida felt herself smirk as she nodded. "Wait," she tilted her head to understand. "You converse with spirits?" Before he could retort she asked, "On what plane?"

Solas looked confused as he turned to Bull for understanding, then back to her. "The…Fade."

"What's that?"

Solas looked at Bull again with an incredulous look, then shook his head annoyed. "I don't have time for this." He stated softly as he turned his back to her.

Bull gave a chuckle as Uthreida held her hands up in an exaggerated sign of confusion. "Solas," Bull offered as he crossed over his massive chest. "I don't know if you noticed the accent, but-" he let the sentence hang as he tilted his head towards the elf.

Solas gave a mocking smirk at the Nord and turned to his desk. "As enlightening as this encounter has been, I believe we both know it's a waste of time." He placed the book on his desk as he moved to his chair. "Unless you want to drop the act so we can engage in an actual conversation."

Uthreida let a breath go through her nose at his audacity. So much is so different, and yet, it's always the same. Another old elf treating her like a child. Considering her as a pup. If Bull wasn't standing right there she would blast him across the room with a smirk on her face. She took another breath. She could give him a thousand internal cuts and no one would know.

Another breath.

The King told her to play nice and keep her powers hidden. He would only help her find Skyrim if she aided the Inquisition. She can't help the Inquisition if she kills them all off for imagined or mundane slights.

Another breath.

She turned to Bull. "I'll let you get to it." She stated calmly as she returned to the Quanari. She stood to his sternum and looked up. Her face an emotionless mask as she waited on where they were to go next. The giant gave a smirk and turned towards another door, ducking again, as he led her upstairs.

"So uh," he asked as they ascended, "what did you mean by 'what plane'?"

Utherdia opened her mouth to answer honestly but stopped. She wanted to know which Prince the elf aligned with but gave the name of a plane that she didn't know. Which means his…Fade is a pocket dimension that she never heard of or…his Prince was one that was forsaken.

Bull stopped and turned to look at her, his horn almost hitting the sconce on the wall as he waited for an answer. His eye watching her for a falter. Uthreida looked at him, and not a single lie came to mind. But she couldn't give the truth either. She sighed and shook her head. Bull turned to face her, tilting his horn and missing the sconce completely. He scrutinized her and she felt every inch of his eye on her. She looked away at the stone wall she was encased in. "I'm under the impression that our religions don't mix. That my teachings and your teachings, don't see eye, to eye." She smirked as he pointed to his eye patch, then the scar that bisected her left eye.

Bull smirked at the comment and gesture. "True. But you didn't answer the question."

Uthreida waved a dismissive hand. "I was curious what level of the Void he traveled."

The Quanri gave a satisfied hum as if it was a joke she would have to wait to hear. "Let me ask you something, when I say Fade or Vail, what do you think of?"

She gave a shrug. "What is fading? What is required to fade? Is it light? Is it physical?"

"Yes." Bull responded as if unsure or as it if covered all of it.

She shrugged again. "I guess a semi-light place, that is neither physical nor spiritual, that's…I don't know. A middle ground of everything, I guess. Just a blank, bland, euphoria of boredom?"

"Good guess."

"Thank you?"

She looked at the larger male and saw him stifle laughter only to smile. He shook his head in appreciation. "Damn. You are one hell of a liar."

She felt her anger return at the larger male as he turned to walk away. She grabbed him by the side of his belt to turn him towards her again. He only cocked his head to see her over his shoulder. Uthreida looked behind her quickly to ensure they were alone as she kept her voice low. "You know I'm not from here. Where ever here is. What is this…Fade?"

His smirk returned as he pressed on forward pulling her with him for a few steps. Uthreida let go as they finished walking up the spiral steps. Bull went through the door and made a hard right. She, not knowing where she was, ohh books, followed after him. Uthreida saw him looking at a tapestry on the wall and followed his line of sight. It was map. But not one she had ever seen before. The top jutted out to a peninsula that then curved out to the East that had two islands above it. The landmass pulled south then back in to make a large cove or sea, then back down south. She followed the edge of the map west, then north. Half of the map was missing from the south and west. She saw words that she had never seen before like Anderfels, Nevarra, Orlais, and "Ferelden." She pointed to the word, and looked at Bull for confirmation. He looked at her slowly, then the map again. She looked at the map again. Ferelden is south. But Skyrim is north. This…this isn't Tameril. Or Akaver. Or Yukoda. Or Potema. This….isisn't right.

This landmass didn't exist on any map of Nirn.

Where in all of Oblivion is she?

"This is where I'm from." He pointed to one of the islands in the north. "Par Vollen." Uthreida watched his hand but didn't quite make out the words he was saying as her world was crashing on her. "This is where our enemy is from" he pointed south to Tevinter. She watched wide-eyed as the idea of being in another place, another land, apart from her world. In another pocket

Divines, did she…is this…a godhead? Did she somehow transport to another world?

No, that's insane. Tsun couldn't possibly have the power to transport her to a world where he had no power.

"And this is where we are." He said, his large finger moving south to mountains between Ferelden and Orlais.

Uthreida stood there silently. Her arms felt heavy at her sides. Her brain wracking with ideas of how this could possibly happen. What if-what if an earthquake happened and, some of Nirn fell into the ocean and- Anderfels, according to the colors was a desert and southern Ferelden was snow. It was still wrong.

What if-what if some powerful mage had reversed the polarization of compasses and-and an earthquake-

She was putting her foot in the cabbage.

Uthreida covered her mouth with a hand as she looked at the map in horror.

"Where are you from?" Bull asked in his low timbre.

Uthreida looked at his one steel eye and felt her throat close around her tongue. She looked at the map again, her eyes drifting north to where Skyrim should be in the ocean. Then south where the snow was past Ferelden. Her eyes shifting across the entire map, but not focusing on any one place, but what it demanding what it should say like Morrowind, Hammerfall, Elsewyere, Cyroldil, Skyrim. Nothing, the words not making themselves seen or known. She felt her hands shake. "I don't know." She whispered to herself. She looked at him, hoping to pray that this was joke. A poke at her to make fun of the foreigner. Some jape she would laugh about later. Something that confirmed that someone, somewhere, knew where in the Nirn she was.

His one eye turned sympathetic as gently took her hand into his. "Well, then. I guess we'll have to find out then." He offered a soft smile and held her hand a little tighter for comfort. All she could feel was the weight of her pack on her back, the weight of her armor on her shoulders, and the heaviness of her heart. Not knowing if she did the right thing. If she completed her mission. If her people are safe from the dragons.

Bull lifted her chin slightly to look at him. She looked and didn't care if her emotions were on her face. She was scared, freighted, and utterly alone.

Bull stood straighter, his one eye looking down at her, as he breathed through his nose. He arched a brow as if waiting on her to do the same. Uthreida closed her eyes and tried to exhale without it wavering. Once she could after a few tries, she looked back at the large male. He gave a slight nod and walked past her.

"Where's the rest?" she asked his bulging back.

He paused, then slowly turned toward her. His face confused and intrigued at the question. "Rest of what?"

She took two steps towards him to hush the conversation. "The map, where's the rest of it?"Uthreida looked at the map, again, feeling the emptiness in her heart.

He followed her eye line, then back at her. "That's all we know of the world." He jutted his chin at the map.

Uthreida watched him move. She could tell he was earnest in his response. He was telling the truth, and it angered her more. "You've never had a sailor ask what was on the other side? No rumor of what lies beyond?"

Bull took a breath. "No."

She shook her head slowly at him, trying to shake off her anger at his answer. "You are also one hell of a liar, Iron Bull."

"The Iron Bull." He corrected with a smirk. He turned and continue his path towards the library.

"Well, well, well" she heard a voice as a book slammed shut. She looked up to see an olive-skinned human man with a book in his hand and most ridiculous mustache she had ever seen. "What have we here?" His dark eyes were looking at her as she approached. "A Qunari in the library. Someone inform the Chantry." He stated, slapping the book across Bull's bicep.

Bull arched a comical brow. "I can read, Vint."

"Yes, I bet you know all the words to 'See Sally Run.'" He sauntered past the horned Quanri and stood before her. He stood there, his weight canted onto one hip as he looked her over. She noticed his outfit was tight and not much of armor. His dark hair was finely combed and his eyes were full of promise. "I dare say, my lady, you have arrived at the most opportune time. I believe I was the most ecstatic to hear of your arrival. I was with Viv when you made your entrance. On the arm of a King, no less. You sure know how to make an entrance." His smile seemed genuine.

Uthreida arched a brow at the Imperial.

"Dorian Pavos. Of the Tevinter Pavos. Perhaps you heard of us?"

Her face didn't change emotion as he spoke.

"Ah. So serious it seems. Yes, well-uhh-"

Bull cleared his throat, his eye only on Utherda with a look of warning.

She looked the human over. "What's the Fade?"

"Uhh-" his look of confusion matched the elfs. He looked at Bull then her with a smile on his lips. "Sure, I'll bite. Uh, let's see. The fade, dear girl, is the metaphysical realm that is tied to this physical one. It is the plane in which we mages draw our mana from to create such spectacles that can make you drop your jaw or make your eyes bleed. Whichever one we choose." He gave a playful wink at her but continued. "It's the realm of spirits and demons and dreams long forgotten. It's the realm of impossibility and the land of inconstancy."

Uthreida felt her brows furl and chin pout with each passing word.

"It is the Maker's first creation and his last resort."

Uthreida looked up and away from him trying to figure out what he just said as none of it made any sense. Dichotomies side, it didn't sound like any plane of Olbivio- Yes it does. When the realization snapped she looked back at the man with a loud 'Uhh" as if unsure of how to proceed. "So, this, uh, Fade you call it. Um" she looked at the ground. Since they call it the Fade and not it's proper name, could it in fact be a pocket dimension? And they call to the Maker, do they know of the Princes? "Who, who rules the Fade?"

The man smiled as if he was having a much dumbed-down conversation with a small child. "Well, depending on who you ask, for Andriatians, the Maker rules all things. According to others, it's a land of, for, and ruled by the spirits."

"Is that's where everyone goes when they die?"

"Yes?"

"Ah." Fuck. Vaermina controls the entire continent? Shit. "And, you pull Magicka from the…Fade?"

"Yes."

Uthreida gave a forced smile as she looked at him. The whole continent worships Vaermina. Greaaaat. Maybe this is a misunderstanding and uh, "You mentioned something about dreams?"

He smirked again and took a deep breath. "Yes. The Fade is the place that mages can transverse in their dreams. Others who can dream enter on their own, but only Mages have the capacities to actually shift it if only slightly."

She looked lost for a moment before she asked. "And who creates the dreams? Nightmares?"

This Dorian gave a small chuff, before crossing one arm over his chest and the other raised to his chin in thoughtful conversation. "The individual. Yes, spirits do look on and see our dreams and memories to help them shape the Fade into their understanding, but it's on the Mages, or rather, specifically the Dreamers, that can actually transverse the Fade and interact with it. Others are just passersby who simply visit the realm in their sleep."

Yep, Quagmire. Defiantly Quagmire. "Just for clarity sake, You said the Maker rules the Fade"

"He rules all things, if you believe such things."

"does….He? He, have a name?"

Dorian looked genuinely confused for a moment. "The Creator? The All-Father? I guess."

She furrowed her brows again. "As in the world? He created the world?"

"Yes," he said with a slow nod. "This is truly an admirable act. I almost believe you imbecility?"

"Thanks, I'm going to throw out a bunch of words, and I want you to tell me if you ever heard of them. Aye? Vaermina" No response. "Kynareth. Lorkhan. Akatosh. Dibella." He shook his head slowly. "Sanguine. Mephala. Hircine. Azura." Nothing. "Clavicus Vile. Hermaeus Mora. Jyggalag. Julianos."

"I know a Julianos."

"Really?" She perked up at the God of Wisdom.

"He was my father's tailor."

"Oh," she deflated at the idea. "What about umm, Quagmire?"

He arched a brow. "I know the word." He licked his lips and took half a step back. "But that's not what you're referring to."

"You know it?"

"Yes, I just don't know what context you're thinking of." Uthreida looked him in the eyes and saw he was telling the truth. His confusion about her line of questions making itself known. "If you don't mind my asking, you seemed, off-put, when I was explaining everything, and no offense, your accent is a giveaway. Where are you from?" Uthreida looked at Bull, still uncertain if she was allowed to tell others. "I ask because what we do is obviously very different, and apparently frowned upon, then what you're accustomed to. If you've a mind, I'd like to hear it."

Uthreida looked him up and down at the phrase, pulling back slightly as she didn't realize it before. His garment didn't have the excess strapping required for armor. And while he did look fit, it was out of necessity, not training. She felt herself smirk at the man. "You're a mage aren't you?"

"How kind of you to notice. As I said before, I'm Dorian Pavos of Tevinter." Uthreida shook her head slowly. "The land of Mages."

"Oh" she exclaimed as she just remembered, looking at the map tapestry that was hanging on the wall. "The bit in the north?"

The mage only arched a brow. "Yes." He said deadpanned. "The bit to the north." She gave a sheepish look as she probably just insulted him on accident. He gave a heavy breath, his shoulders sinking slightly as he did so. "Tell me, do you know how magic works?"

"Well, aye. I mean, I'm learning as I go, but I think I have a good idea."

"Annnd that idea being?"

Uthreida opened her mouth to speak but snapped her jaw as she looked at Bull. Was she allowed to answer that? Would it open up too many doors?

Dorian followed her gaze to the Qunari, then back at her with a look of disbelief. "Andrastes tits, are you Qun?"

Uthreida looked at him like he grew a second head. She didn't have horns. "Ha?"

"Are you Qunari? That…would explain a few things."

Uthreida lowered her brows further at the man while Bull snorted a laugh. "Qun" Bull started between fits of laughter. "Is a political, economical way of life. Those who follow the Qun are Qunari. To be from the islands I showed you earlier." Uthreida still looked confused, her eyes shifting from his chest to his horns. "Those of us giants with horns are also called Qunari."

Uthreida looked away to think. "Like, Akavr. The citizens are called Akarvri, but are actually different races that all fall under the same domain?"

Bull shrugged. "Something like that."

"Is that where you're from? Akavir?"

"No, and I'll punch you if you say that again." Her eyes darted behind her, trying to see the map that was just out of view. She looked at Bull. "Can I answer that?"

He gave a smirk. "She's not from around here."

Dorrian looked at his friend with a smirk, but when he looked at her, his eyes softened. "Like us?"

"Yea," Bull grunted as he picked himself off the of the side of a bookshelf and strolled towards them. "Tell ya the truth, I was a little curious to see how she would react to you."

"Me?" Dorian said as if offended with his hand over his heart. "I'm delightfully charming."

"She gushed at Varric and almost killed Solas," Bull said, tilting his horn at her.

"Well, both are understandable." Dorian gave a dismissive wave at the comment. "So, how does magic work where you're from?"

She squinted her face as if the question wasn't as easily answered a few sentences. "It's a combination of the residual magicka from the land, the Atherius from Magnus, and the individual's own magical competency."

Dorrian lowered his brows. "Magnus?"

'The sun" she jutted her thumb towards the nearest window for him to inspect.

Dorrina gave a condescending smile. "Ah, the Solarium theory. It's a good one. Though it has its flaws. And significantly out dated."

Uthreida gave her own condescending smirk. "And making pacts with Princes is the best you got."

Dorrian did his best to soften her anger. "I didn't mean to offend. Per se." his eyes drifted to her hip with her weapons were strapped to her. "But I also don't expect you to fully understand the intricateness of magic. It's a far more vast than-"

Uthreida arched her brow at his ramblings of how magicka worked. It's like Farengar all over again. The mage spouted off about how it requires concentrations and delicate details about the Fade before calling forth a spell. She held out a hand and held the flames spell.

Her hand began to smolder with the red hot flames that she held in her hand. Letting them see that she can create spells. Using them, was the other reason why she didn't cast it. Dorrian eyes went wide as Bull took a step back. Utheirda smirked as she made her point. I can do magic to-

wait.

Her maigicka was draining faster than it should. She looked at her hands with concern as the flame went out. Holding the spell didn't cost any magicka. Why did it fade so quickly? Uthreida was the first to admit that even most Adept spells were beyond her, but even something as simple as flame shouldn't deplete as quickly as it did. She clinched her hands thinking she did something wrong. No, she could see the spell in her mind but it didn't form.

She heard the two talking but didn't noticed until she heard her name. "Ha?"

"You're a mage?" Dorrian asked with wide eyes.

"No." she stated as she looked at her hands again. Dorrian exaggerated a gesturing show to her hands. She rolled her eyes. "Apprentice, maybe, but I'm not a mage."

Dorrian ran a hand through his hair. "You just called forth magic."

Uthreida looked at him, waiting on him to finish his sentence. "Everyone can call magic. Every mortal has the capability."

"Nope." Bull said quickly.

"Aye."

"No," Dorrian said softer. "They can't. Where are you from?"

Uthreida decided not to answer as she rubbed her fingertips against her thumb. Why are they looking at her like that? And why would her magicka drain so quickly here? "Are there magical dampeners here?"

Dorrian looked confused at the change of conversation. "No. The Vail is thinner here. So, you should have plenty of magic."

"What is 'the vail'?"

He tilted his head at her. "The vail. The thing that separates the Fade from the physical realm?" he rolled his hands at her to help her remember. When she shook her head slightly, he took a deep breath. "I know you're not that vapid." Uthreida looked at him hoping he would tell her. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "So" he said, slamming his hands against his thighs, only to then place on his hips "you slay dragons?" he finished with a smile.

She arched a brow at the change in conversation, but let it happen. "Aye."

"Fantastic. I take it they told you about the Arch Demon, yes?"

Her eyes drifted to Bull for answers. She whispered, "Is that the one in…umm…Red uh"

"Red Cliff?" Bull offered. "No. That's a High Dragon." She lowered her brows. Fire Dragon, Frost Dragon, Blood Dragon, Elder Dragon, Ancient Dragon, Revered Dragon, Legend Dragon. What in Nirn is a High Dragon? "Big dragon." Bull offered, though it did little to help.

"Are you sure you're a dragon slayer?" Dorian said quickly, his face full of scrutiny.

Uthreida looked at him quickly then thought about it. "I'm sure we have different classes of dragons. So, I what I call…Elder, you call High, maybe."

Dorrian gave a small laugh at something she wasn't aware of. "I'm sure that's exactly it." He smiled to himself. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you. And knowing you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have books that need my attention."

"Speaking of." Uthreida asked as he turned away, "Are these books free to read?" She asked with a large smile. Her eyes scanning the shelves quickly then back to him.

He scoffed softly, picking up a new book as he read the title page. "They were a donation to the Inquisition. If you're with the Inquisition, I don't see why not."

"Books on, dragons? Monsters, history? I'll take religion at this point."

He sighed as he picked up another, flipping open the cover. "Majority of these are religious texts. But, I'll let you know what I find." He gave a salutary smirk and turned his back again.

Uthreida kept her eyes on the books. Trying to see the spines and wanting to know what was in each of them. She felt Iron Bulls eye on her. She looked up at and saw him smirking at her. He shook his head in shame at her for a moment. "Books and mages." He whispered under his breath as he walked behind her. Unwilling to go, but also unwilling to start a fight with the large male, she followed as he walked past the books and several other mages bend over books and tables with findings or experiments.

He walked through another port callus and turned to make sure Uthreida was behind him. She noticed from the corner of her eye as she was still craning her neck to see how many books they had. She gave a guilty smile at his patience. He stopped mid stride and turned to her. "Next is Lady of Iron. Be on your best behavior. She's" he paused to look for the word, a quick emotion of mild fear passed his giant features for only a moment. "Intimidating." Uthreida looked him over with a playful smile on her face. She must be something fierce to make him so guarded. He noticed, and frowned slightly. Bull tilted his head for her follow.

They entered the small chamber with a large window. Oh, it over looked the main hall. In this small cropping were two high backed chairs and a weird couch with a Redguard woman laid with fan, reading a book. Her brown eyes looked up and noticed them approach. "Bull." She stated with an air of respect as a small smile curled on her lips. She stood. Her white and dark purple outfit that hugged her curves so generously moved with her. Uthreida was afraid the cloth was too taught and would rip. But the way she moved seemed to carry an experience of such cloth. She was high born. "How kind of you to make it out of the tavern today. Wearing your best trousers, no less. I'm proud of you, my dear."

He cocked a brow at the comment even as he tried not to smirk. "Thank you, Ma'am." His tone was deep and hollow at the woman.

Her dark eyes moved to Uthreida with an arched brow and smile. "You're the Dragon Slayer everyone has been talking about, yes?" She took a step forward and offered her hand to Uthreida. "First Enchanter Vivienne of the Montsimmard Circle and personal Enchanter and advisor to Empresses Celene. You may call me Lady of Iron."

The enchanter held her hand out, palm down for Uthreida to take, but it was a gesture she was unfamiliar with. Hoping she wouldn't be too offended, Uthreida placed a hand over her heart and gave a slight bow that was accustomed to Redgaurd. "It is a pleasure, Lady of Iron. Since we're offering titles, I am Dovikiin Uthreida Storm-Breaker of the Skyrim Rebellion forces. Thane to White Run, Solitude, Falkrethe, Winterhold, and Windhelm. Yesimer of the North." Uthreida offered a final bow as the Redguard woman laughed politely.

"My, my. How lucky we are to have you then. Please, join me." She motioned to the couch for them to sit.

Uthreida politely declined with a raised hand. "Forgive me, my armor hasn't been washed in a few days, Lady."

"Lady of Iron." She coolly corrected causing a small shiver to run up Uthreida's spine. "Besides, a bit of dust from the road is nothing, my dear. Please, sit with me." Uthreida gave a concerned look to Bull as she slowly walked towards the couch, holding the pommel of her blades down as she sat. The Redguard was fanning her face as she smirked like a predator.

Uthreida gave an uncomfortable smirk. "So, you're a court wizard?"

She gave a laugh at her comment, then smirked. "Bit of an odd phrase. I advise the Empresses on magical and alchemical anomalies that are present or will become a hindrance to her majesty."

Uthreida looked confused as she basically stated the job requirements. "Aye. How many wizards are at court?"

Her laugh this time was of polite guffaw at the brazen boldness of the question. "None, my dear. Mages are unpredictable and fallible."

Uthreida was confused by her. She spoke highly of her position but then shunned her colleges. Wait, she said none but her job was…is she upholding social views? "Okay."

"Tell me, Darling, what brings you to the Inquisition?"

Uthreida wanted to be honest and say, 'I have no idea,' but thought better against it. "King Alistair thought that my talents would best be used for the benefit for the Inquisition."

She gave an approved smile as she reached and sipped a bit of wine. "And what talents might those be? Aside from dragon slaying, that is?"

"That's about it." She said with a guilty smirk.

"Hmm" that one word saying more than the books stacked next to her. "If you don't mind my saying, your accent is familiar. But it's not quite Anders, not quite Navarran. And I believe I detect hint of Starkhaven. It's fascinating. Where are you from?"

Uthreida smiled as she gave the answer that Bull wanted. "Not from around here."

This time, her 'hmm' held more mirth than before. "Well, being with a king must mean you have connections? Are you a kin to the Pentagusts?"

"No."

"I must admit, I've never heard of the Storm-Breakers. Who's your family?"

"I am the first in my family to hold the title of Storm-Breaker. My father's name was Stronghelm. A name that was titled to my great grandmother, whose name before that was Isoldauter."

Vivienne leaned back in her couch and looked her over curiously. "And what did she do to earn such a title?"

Uthreida felt a genuine smile cross her lips. "Great Grandmother Astuiri stood against the Molag Bol's hoard during the Oblivion crisis. A Dadramora attached her with a war hammer to her helm. It withstood the blow and she then killed it. The local Jarl gave her the title of Strong-Helm because of her victory. She returned to the forge where it was created, and met my great grandfather."

The woman nodded. "Your grandfather was the blacksmith, I take it?"

"He was."

"And is smiting still in your family?"

"It is."

"Are, or do, you? Smith, that is."

Uthreida gave a self-depreciating smile. "Aye, but it's not going to be the prettiest. I can make what I need and sell off what I don't. In truth, I buy cheap arms and armor, refine it, enchant them, and then sell at a profit."

She leaned back slightly. "You're an enchanter?"

Uthreida nodded. "I'm no master, but, I can make do."

"What do you specialize in, my dear?"

Uthreida tried to recall what she mostly sold a few years ago. "Honestly, the easiest thing for me is to enchant everyday items. Rings, necklaces, circlets, gloves, shoes. They are the easiest to offload. Healing, muffling, and water walking are the easiest."

The Lady smirked as she fanned her face. "So the daughter of a blacksmith desires more to life than the failings of her family, and strikes out on her own to seek a name for herself by slaying dragons. But somehow has the time to master petty enchantments." She gave a short laugh as Uthreida looked confused at the inaccurate story of her life. "That's enervated of any story that only Varric could come up with."

Uthreida let it go as it would give the idea that she had something to prove rather than letting her learn for herself what this country and continent had in their own secrets. May as well play the fool with it suited her, she supposed. Uthreida let the Redguard woman hear what she wanted as Uthreida looked across the main hall to see people moving in conversation. But noticed that some stood aside to let a woman in a purple head covering. "So," Uthreida turned her attention back to the woman, "I take it you proved yourself against the dragon's in- wherever you're from?" Bull gave a chuckle as he sat on the arm of a chair. The woman noticed and shook a hand at him to sit in it properly. The giant moved quickly to do as the woman instructed. All mirth removed from his face as she smiled matronly at him.

"You could say that," Uthreida smirked at Bull to see the large man put in his place by this woman.

"How many?"

Uthreida shrugged, "Less than a fleet, more than a hand full."

"Which is?"

"I lost count." She admitted softly.

The woman snarked. "How does one lose count of how many times they face such a tremendous beast?"

"I'll admit, the first few times is trial and error. But after that, it gets easier."

Lady Vivienne was silent as she looked Utheirda over with mild concern. "Careful, darling. There's a difference between pride and a blatant lie. Both will get you killed here."

Uthreida looked mildly confused at the woman. She wasn't lying nor was she-

"Serrah Iron Bull?" a human male in light armor approached them from the same doorway they had entered. Bull turned slowly in his chair to see the man. "Excuse me, Lady of Iron." He gave a slight bow to the woman who nodded at the interruption. "Serrah Iron Bull, Sister Liliana has requested your presence and the guest to Lady Josephine's office right away."

Bull gave a nod to the man then grunted slightly as he pushed himself up and out of the chair. "Forgive us, Ma'am. We must be on our way." He gave a courtly bow to the Redgaurd woman as she stood with him. Uthreida, taking the cue, stood as well.

"Of course." She waved a dismissive hand to the horned man. "Do take care, darling." She turned to Uthreida and smirked. "We'll speak again."

Uthreida followed after Bull towards the same door they entered but made a left before entering into the library again. Uthreida furrowed her brows as she considered all the conversations with the-

"Alright." Bull announced from ahead. "be honest." He turned to face her, his hands on his hips. He stood at her height, looking her square in the eyes from his lower position on the stairs. "I can't pin you. Are you really" his brows lowered in understanding, "from another land? A land where mages are everywhere? Where Dwarves no longer exist? No Darkspawn? No Fade? No Demons?"

Her brows furrowed. "Demons?"

"Yea, demon, you know" he scratched his head in thought. "How did Solas put it? Perverted spirits that can possess you and make you a monster."

Uthreida looked away trying to put two and two together. If spirits or souls were the denizens of the Fade, and Demons were their enforcers. "Oh, we call them Deadramora."

His face fell slightly at the idea. "Great." He deadpanned. His eye looked at the stone of the hall as if uncovering something. "Tell me, then. Do mages control your government?"

She shook her head slightly. "No. They guide or advise the Jarls and Kings."

"Everywhere?"

"Aye."

He looked her up and down. "And your magic comes from the sun?"

"Aye?"

"And you really don't know where your home is?" She looked away from him. The truth hurting more than it should. "I noticed your panic when you saw the map. Nothing registered with you. No sense of recognization. No hesitance." She looked at him from her bowed neck. He allowed the silent moment to pass between the two. He ended it with an understanding 'hmm' and turned back on his path.

Uthreida followed in silence again. Allowing him to clear the path for her as he led her across the main hall and into another door. Then another until she came to a room with a woman wearing the purple hood in chain mail shirt and an olive-skinned woman in layers of blue and gold ruffles. Bull closed the door behind them as the women turned to look at them.

"Is that her?" the darker-skinned one asked softly, leaning into the pale woman in the hood.

"Slayer" Bull held a hand from her to the other women. "This is Lady Josephine and Sister Liliana. The Political advisor and the Spymaster for the Inquisition."

Both gave a small smirk and bowed in their own way of showing respect. Uthreida took the cue and did the same to them, adding the salute of Talos as she bowed. "Forgive us, Lady. We are finding that your name is difficult to pronounce." The pale one said with a bit of a sheepish grin. "Would it be alright if we addressed you as Slayer?"

Uthreida smirked. "Everyone else is."

She smirked, but the darker-skinned woman with dark hair seemed embarrassed by her friend. "We simply don't wish to butcher it. But if you would be so kind, do you mind pronouncing your name, for record and for, well, our understanding."

Uthreida arched a comical brow at the women. "Uth-ree-dah." Both gave their best mimic but seemed to lack the vernacular or accent. Specifically the soft roll of the 'r'. She nodded at their attempt.

Liliana took a step forward. "As the Spy Master, I must ask for you to drop your weapons and remove your bag for inspection." Uthreida paused and arched a warning. "Simply to ensure that you aren't carrying orders on your person to assassinate anyone in our organization."

Uthreida quickly did a mental inventory of her pack and took a step back unconsciously. "And if I refuse?"

The woman smiled. "Well, if you have nothing to hide-"

"We both know that is a dangerous slope."

The woman took a few steps forward, her blues eyes on Uthreida as she approached. "If you refuse to surrender your pack, we don't have a need to trust you. And you will be escorted off the grounds."

"Lily." The other hissed.

Uthreida felt the weight of her pack on her shoulders. She bit her lip, barley listening to the two women play pretend of kicking her out. She knew that they wouldn't. That they had no choice. Everyone seemed ecstatic to have someone who can kill dragons on payroll. This was a formality. And because they couldn't back it up their claim, she was expected to save face and do the same.

Or claim that she is in fact a spy and kill her anyway.

Even if she wasn't allowed to assist the Inquisition, it would mean that King Alistair wouldn't help her find her home. Meaning, she was right where she started two days ago.

So familiar.

She looked at Bull. "They know, right? That I'm" his face shoing confusion at her half sentence. "Not from here." he nodded. Uthreida unslung her bag from her back and placed it at her feet. "In the twenty minutes I've been allowed to wander with Iron Bull, I've already learned that our lands are very different. So, before I open my pack, I must ask, have you ever heard of an Elder Scroll?"

The two women exchanged looks, then confirmed with Bull, who shook his head slowly. "No," the red head said. "If you could explain then."

Uthreida sighed as she flipped open her pack. She shifted her quiver over and pulled out the white and gold scroll for them to see. But not to touch. "You may not look at or touch this. This was to be a gift for Shore. But" her brows lowered when she entered Sovenguard, and saw that his throne was empty. She wanted to give it to Kyne, only to see the one empty throne.

"I need to inspect it," Leliana said.

"No." Uthreida held it closer to her chest.

"Why?"

Uthreida clenched her jaw. Not willing to lie, she told only the half-truth that came to mind. "Wars have been a cause for these. These make and break treaties. This one. It is my destiny."

Liliana took a patient breath. "You are aware that the enemy we face has the title of 'Elder One' and you hold some, magical enchanted item, that you call an 'Elder Scroll.' Surely you can see where I'm drawing a connection."

"These scrolls are gifts from the Gods. Without proper training, looking at the scrolls can blind you or make you go insane. This one holds my destiny. I alone carry this burden. I will not pass it on so quickly."

The Redhead held her breath, and as if deciding the best course of action. "Perhaps," the other spoke, "We can reach an agreement. Yes?"

The redhead arched a brow. "Your weapons and pack, and you may keep your scroll."

Uthreida considered it for a moment and nodded. With one hand holding the scroll to her chest, her other undid the buckle at her waist. The three weapons tethered to the belt as she passed it off to the redhead. She took them with both hands, her eyes watching Uthreida closely.

Uthreida watched as she dumped her bag onto the floor, finding every secret pocket of her bag, and pulling out every single thing in it. She then sifted through everything.

She lifted a blue bag. "What are these?"

Uthreida looked at her bag of filled soul gems. "Gems."

She opened it and pulled out a lesser gem. "What are they for?"

"Enchanting." The woman looked at her with an expression that required more information.

"According to her conversation with Vivine" Bull announced from his place across the room, leaning against the brick wall, "Our friend here is a bit of an enchanter."

The woman arched a brow. "I've never heard of enchanting with gems."

"It is how I was trained."

She dropped the gem back into the bag and placed it aside. Uthreida took on more questions after questions. All the while, Josephine was scratching parchment writing something. Liliana would ask about her small collection of cheeses, her books, her travel journal, her excessive lock picks, the bow, the lexicon, her map of Skyrim, a bag of actual gems, her large bag of gold, the Dragon Priest Mask, and the potions. She sifted through the bottles and smirked. "How does a mage not have any lyerium potions?"

Uthreida looked confused at the question, then looked at Bull. He shook his head slightly, telling her not to move.

Liliana lifted the bag to put her spare change of clothes into it when she weighed it again. Liliana felt for the, odd weight Uthreida assumed and reached into the pack again. She pulled out a black cloth. Uthreida lowered her brows at what she found. Liliana unfurled the cloth to reveal the strange looking blue rock she had found outside of Riften. Well, that explains why her pack was always so heavy. The cloth matched the bag and she always overlooked it. The Sisters emotionless mask shifted into concern.

Her blue eyes shifted immediately to Uthreida in accusation. She gently placed the rock on the desk and stepped away from it. "Where did you get this?"

"It was in a farmstead outside of Riften. I honestly forgot it was even in there." Her chuckle died as she looked at the woman who was taking cautious steps away from it. "Do you know what it is?"

Josephine looked at the rock on her desk and took half a step back. Bull tilted his body to see what it was. However, Leliana only looked Uthreida over. "Do you not?"

"I feel like that's a trick question," Uthreida admitted.

"It's not."

Uthreida gave a breath of her stupidity. "It was weird looking, so I picked it up."

"Weird?"

"It was out of place."

"And where is its place?"

Uthreida shrugged at her lack of knowledge of what the thing even was. "Not in the middle of a field?"

Josephine tilted her head at the woman with a look of disbelief. "Do you know how dangerous this is?" Uthreida eyes looked at the blue rock, taking in their caution and not fully understanding the situation. "This is raw ly-"

Liliana held up a hand to silence her. "Perhaps," Liliana suggested, "We should hang onto this for you."

Uthreida looked at the rock again, then at them, questions forming in her mind. They knew what the rock was. But she was also backed into a corner. If she refused the scroll, she can't refuse anything else. "If you think it's best."

"We do," Liliana said and gingerly covered it with the black wool. Leaving it on the desk for now. Liliana continued to shove all of her belongings back into the bag but left her travel journal out. She flipped through it, stopping on a few pages to take in something that she saw. She smirked when she got a page. "Cataloging your journeys, I take it?"

"Aye."

"The Inquisitor does the same. Though I've advised against it." She looked at the leather cover and nodded once. "You may keep this as well."

"Thank you."

"However," she stated, holding it in both hands, "I'd like a sample of the writing." She had nothing to hide from them. Aside from the scroll, but that was more to protect them. She gave a nod. Lilliana took a page, and ripped it out the book. She placed the book in the bag, and folded the paper, placing it in her high sleeves. Leliana then moved to her weapons.

"Lady Uth-uh-Slayer." Josephine stood quietly from behind her desk. "I've drawn up a contract for your consideration. I would like to go over the groundwork with you before we start going over compensation." Uthreida gave a nod for her to continue. "So after speaking to Sister Liliana, I believe I have a general idea of what the Inquisitor is willing to make a contract for." Liliana pulled out her ebony weapons and looked it for a moment. "It is imperative that you conduct yourself as a member of the High Council of, I'm sorry, where are you from again?"

"Skyrim"

"Skyrim" she said slowly as she wrote something down. "Yes. You must conduct yourself in a manner that is befitting and appropriate of your people as an envoy of Skyrim. As an envoy, it is expected that you are to learn not only our customs, but also our language to ensure proper trade can be achieved with Fereldan and Skyrim. The Inquisitor has stated that you are allowed to tell people you are not from Thedas and may give clues about your home. However, as trade agreements are being made with Fereldan, you cannot disclose the location until such trade or explorer contracts have been made?"

"What?"

"You may speak of your home, but you can't tell people where it's at."

"Easy enough. I don't even know."

"It is imperative to act like you do know, Miss. Otherwise, others could get the wrong impression." She gave a polite smile as she continued. "What religious requirement do you need to practice?"

Uthreida thought it over and realized that they didn't know anything about her religion and pull anything out here. Then thought better of it. "Hunting trips." She said with a guilty smile.

That she saw through with a bored expression. After a slow blink and arched brow of knowing, she signed. "How many days?"

"Two, maybe three days a month."

Liliana sheathed the blade. "How many riders will you take with you?" Liliana asked as she picked up the axe. Uthreida was silent. She pushed it. Liliana looked at her with cool eyes and a soft smile. "We mealy want to secure your safety."

And make sure that she's not sending messages she not supposed to. Uthreida had to nod in agreeance. "Forgive me. I understand the suspicion. Basically, hunting trips are a way for me to reconvene with nature. Honestly, however often I find myself outside of the castle, is when I can do that."

"We have a garden. I'm sure you can find nature there."

"I suppose."

"Fantastic," Josephine stated as she scribed on her parchment. "The Inquisition is a force for the Chantry, our major religion here. You are expected to maintain a level of professionalism by not scoffing, judging, or forcing others into your religious ideals or beliefs. You may engage philophisical conversations, but not outright heresy. Is that understood?"

Uthreida felt herself smile. How weak was this religion that they would ban heresy? If anything, it was just a jovial jaunt on a Tuesdas. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you. Now. You are to be housed in Skyhold until a dragon has been found in the field. Once found, you are to move to the field, kill it, and return back here."

Uthreida lowered her brows. "So, I'm trapped here."

"Not trapped," Leliana stated with a smirk. "Living here."

Uthreida crossed her arms. 'Does that mean I'm free to come and go?"

"No," she stated quickly. "King Alistair has brought you here to keep you safe. The Inquisition has the most informational resources in the south right now. We can use those resourses to help you find your home. That said, in order to ensure your safety and security, you are to remain here in Sky Hold."

Uthreida took a deep breath. This was a horrible idea. How many times did dragons attack Whiterun just because she was visiting? She should tell them. Or, maybe, let them find out. Uthreida gave a nod in understanding to the Spymaster.

Josephine added a line in the parchment before continuing. "Now, for the form of payment. What is a fair amount that is to be given to you to slay dragons?"

Uthreida was taken aback for second. She's being paid for this. She had to argue at the All Thing that dragon slaying was a civil duty and not an occupation and therefore should not be taxed as an occupation. The selling of dragon bones and scales though could be taxed. And loot is generally kept off the books. She had to think about it. She would need gold to repair her weapons, armor, food, housing, and boots. If she was to keep the horse, he would need shoes, food, and equipment. Everyone was looking at her and expecting an answer. She quickly picked a number. "Uh, one thousand, four hundred and fifty septum." She smiled at the group as they looked confused.

"I'm sorry, a what?" Josephine had asked. Was it too high? "A septum, you said?"

"Aye, gold pieces."

Josephine lifted a hand in confusion, unsure of how to write that down. "Do you have one?"

Uthreida looked at her bag, asking permission from Liliana to take it back. The woman waved a hand as she inspected Dragons Bane. Uthreida placed the scroll in the bag and took out her gold bag. She needed to dump this. And handed one piece to Josephine to inspect.

She looked the coin over in her hand and cleared her throat. "Do you mind if I-" she pointed behind herself to the weight scales that were resting in the window seal. Uthreida nodded at her request. Liliana finished inspecting the weapon and returned it all back to her. She gave a nod of thanks and assisted the other at the window.

Uthreida turned to look at Bull to see if she was doing this right. He only smirked letting her know she was on the right path. Maybe. He's hard to read. She looked back at the women, not sure what was going on anymore. The two women were whispering and arguing about math. In a fit of silent rage, Josephine pulled out an abacus and moving pebbles along the rods. Showing Liliana her work, Josephine gave a triumphant smirk and looked back at Uthreida, handing her back her coin. "My apologies. So it would appear that one of your septum is equal to about fifty-five pence based on weight to our Royal making your requested amount of one thousand, four hundred and fifty septum to becoming eight hundred Royals even."

Bull started chocking and coughing in on his wall "go up." He stated between coughs.

Taking the cue, Uthreida smiled. "Uh, one thous-" he cough again "two thousand," he cough again, "and eight hundred" cough "fifty" cough cough "five royals" cough cough cough "per dragon."

Bull gave a loud cough to wrap it up. "You have any water in here? Man, that just, whew. It's really dusty in here."

Both women looked at him with death in their eyes. Josephine was the first to recover. "My Lady. That price, not only triples the amount you have requested, but is also well out of range of us to compensate. Perhaps we can come to a negation."

"Negoat-are you serious?" Bull questioned as he walked across the room. "have you seen the size of these dragons?"

"Bull" Liliana warned as he was getting both too close and too loud.

"Iron Bull. I understand your position." Josephine poised to deflect. "But that is simply out of our price range. Even the Pentagaust hunters would only charge that much to Kings. Royalty. We do not have those kinds of coffers."

"Is she not providing a different service?"

"The Pentaghaust's were a team-"

"Exactly. She's one woman. I don't see Cassandra going out there and doing this. Pay the woman. She's got to take care of me when we get married."

Uthreida stepped away from him. "Ha?" She supposed that he…was…uhh…ya know…

He looked at her and jutted his chin at her. "Hey. Look" he turned his attention back to the women "Pay the woman."

"And how" Liliana pinched the bridge of her nose "do you suggest we do that?"

He shrugged. "Isn't that your job to figure that out?"

The door opened behind them and all turned to look. "This is the backbone of our Inqui-oh" The Inquisitor, King Alistair, and Commander all entered the room and smiled. Josephine gave a bow to King Alistair and ceased all negotiations until he waived her to rise. The Inquisitor smiled at the group. "Sorry, are we interrupting something?"

"No, no." Josephine stated, while adjusting her ruffles. "We were just going over payment of contract."

"Oh," King Alistair smirked as he placed a hand on Uthreida's shoulder. "What's the damage?"

She gave a heavy sigh before repeating the number. "Two thousand, eight hundred, and fifty five royals." Alistair physically bent over as if he had been punched in the stomach. "Per dragon."

He stood tall and looked at the Nord woman with wide eyes. "We are at war. Where is your charity?"

She looked at him with confusion then at the women. "One thousa-" Bull coughed again.

"ah." The Inquisitor stated as if he grasped the conversation. "Bull, knock it off."

"It's not even my money and I feel it," Alistair said to himself. "It's not my money right?" he asked the inquisitor who smiled graciously.

"Donations are always welcome."

Alistair looked at Uthreida again with wide eyes. "Fereldan has three, no five, dragons that I even know about. Twenty-eight, times, that's, in royals to sovereigns, that's, that's a quarter of what I collect in taxes a year. From the people. Makers breathe. And Orlais. Maker have mercy."

"Speaking of taxes" Uthreida turned to face the king, "What's your policy on contractual dragon slaying?"

The king's eyes went wide as he was asked how the universe was created in great detail. He gave a painful smile at the woman. "Uh, twenty percent with, um, first three free. Sure, lets go with that."

"So because the one on the road wasn't under contract" she leaned towards Josephine "No more than three in Fereldan." She gave a charming smile to King Alistair.

Who only crossed his arms and smirked. "You've been in this country for two days and you're already trying to avoid taxes."

"Well, if this proves anything" the Inquisitor stated with a chuckle, "She's people."

"Well," Josephine tried to steer the conversations. "We started off at eight hundred, but then" she glared at Bull who only crossed his arms at the smaller woman with a defiant look.

Alistair looked at Uthreida again with wide eyes and a deep frown. She put her hands up to explain the situation that seemed to be unfolding around her. He was already mad about earlier and now this. Maybe she went a little too high. "One thousand." She finally declared. And Bull coughed again. She looked to the king for guidance away from the large Qunari. "And possession of the corpse and first take of the horde."

Someone asked "what' but all she saw was Alistair change his look from perspective disobedience to social out casting.

"Where and why would you store an entire dragon?" The Commander asked, popped his head between Royoc and Bull.

She shrugged. "I mean, I can hang onto it until I can find a buyer to make armor and weapons. This way, when I sell it I can cover the difference."

Alistair arched a brow. "Do you have a buyer in mind?"

"I, well, uh"

"One thousand," the Commander declared, "where the Inquisition takes possession of the body and you retain first rights on the horde." He moved around to where they stood beside but in front of the women on the other side of the desk.

"What, no, I don't-"

"Do you want the people who are to protect you not have access to the dragon scale armor and weapons?"

"What I mean is, I don't even know how the economy works here. How much is bread? How much is my lodging here going to cost me."

"Or the horse," Alistair added.

"What horse?"

"Your horse." Both looked at one another with confusion. "You understand how gifts work, right?"

"Oh, oohhh" Uthreida looked away and bowed her head. She just got a free horse. And now the expenses. "Thank you, your Majesty. It's an honor to receive such a fine gift."

The Commander cleared his throat. "One thousand Royals, free room and board for you and your horse with first plunder of the horde per head of dragon slain. Taxes will be levied upon payment of twnty percent making full carrying payment eight hundred per head of a dragon. Do we have a deal?"

She saw the glairs from the two women who were apparently trying to get more of out her before he forced his way into negotiations. She looked at Bull with a pained expression who only shrugged with an annoyed face. "Deal."

Josephine drew his lips in a thin line at the man as she scratched out a line on the parchment. "I'll have a final copy ready for your signature later this evening. Commander, a word." Her tone sounding like a final sentence of the man's life.

The Commander looked to the Inquisitor as the two women left the room to the adjacent door near the desk. The Commander kept the man's gaze but did not flinch under it. His turn was sharper than what was needed as he all but kicked the door open to follow the women.

He fucked up.

The room was silent for a moment only be followed by the sound of flesh hitting armor as Uthreida believed one of them was hitting him. Josephine tried to keep her voice down but was able to make it around the thin doors.

An air of awkward silence filled the room as Alistair turned to her. "So," he stated loudly as if to indicate to the other three that they could hear them, "Welcome to the Inquisition."

Royoric smirked. "Has Iron Bull introduced you to everyone?"

"I met a dwarf!" She said as she beamed with joy.

XxXxXxXx

Cullen had a pint of the King's Ale in hand and climbed his way to the balcony of the make-shift pub. He wanted silence for a moment to think outside of his office for perspective. He moved the ratted curtain and stopped.

The Slayer turned in her chair to see his entrance. She was still in armor, but no weapons, and looked genuinely surprised to see someone had found her. Cullen sneered and turned.

"I'm sorry, is this your spot? I. I can leave." She said, sounding both embarrassed and awkward as she picked her ale and bag as if ready to move on his order.

Cullen only watched her in silent suspicion, waiting on her to make the next move. A few awkward moments passed and she dipped her head at him in a mocking tease to act as polite edicts would dictate. Cullen stood his ground, unwilling to sacrifice the war of will with her, but also wanting the privacy of the balcony.

The Slayer arched a brow, dropped her bag, and smirked. She pointed to the empty chair next to her and resumed her seat, drinking her ale. Cullen sniffed and turned.

"Sit down, you pompous ass." She ordered with her back turned. Cullen popped his jaw at her terse and judgmental accusation. He felt himself turn back, and stand next to the chair that was offered, looking down at her. She returned a board look at him. Her pale skin reflecting the light of the moon even as she sat in the shadows. She arched a brow, daring him to return the favor.

"Where's Bull?"

She waved a hand. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere."

"Does he know you're here?"

"Shores bones. I hope not." She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "I mean, Bull's abrasive, and Cole is-" she paused to find the word, but her face said it all.

"Unnerving."

She gave a heavy sigh. "Aye." She rubbed her neck at the truth. Then met his eyes. "It's not natural."

Cullen arched a bow. "For someone to see inside your mind?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "For what he is." She softly shook her head again. "It's not right." She whispered. "It goes against everything."

Cullen placed his drink on the table between the two chairs and moved to sit. "This is what he choose. This is what he is now."

She nodded in confirmation. "Does this." She stared with a break in her voice. "Does this sort of thing happen often? Spirits coming back to life in host bodies?"

Cullen arched a brow. "No. That kind of binding is usually disallowed. Necromancers-"

"Oh, uhh, like the one in the library? Uh" she snapped her fingers to remember "ridiculous mustache."

"Dorrian."

"Yes." She exclaimed and he grew annoyed at her interruption. She seemed to see it and shrined. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

He waived a hand. "No, no, please. I don't have anything important or learned of this land. You can do whatever you like." He took a drink and looked across the mountain scenes.

She clicked her lounge. "Are all of your people this barbarically rude?"

A laugh escaped his throat. "You want to talk about barbarism?" He turned to look at her and saw her pride in her eyes. "After today. To me."

The slayer looked away first, placing her drink on the table. "I thought you were a Thane. Nothing more. I am sorry for –"

"And what in the Makers name is a Thane?" He lashed back.

She took a deep breath and lifted to hands to explain, but the look of too much history was written in her eyes as she struggled to string the words together. "A Thane is someone who helps the people. A local hero. Who occasionally attends Things, and and and and take care of local menaces. It's a title that is bestowed by a Jarl."

"You mean knight." He stated boldly at her. She looked temporarily confused for a moment, then pointed to the darkened sky lazily with a bewildered arched brow. Cullen rolled his eyes. "Yes, but it's spelled different." He hastened and leaned forward towards her. "I am knighted. And yet, you attacked."

She huffed in defense, her blue eyes and the pink scar across her left eye blazing. "I felt attacked and you were guarding the only way out."

"Do you generally hack your way out of problems?" His tone cutting between anger and superiority.

She pursed her lips in quiet rage. "It works for me about ninety percent of the time."

"Astounding, you understand basic math?"

Her sneer would've sent lesser men scurrying, but Cullen stood obstinate in her defiance. She shook her head slowly, and took a deep drink of her ale. "Keep going, lad, I'm starting to get curious if this height enough to break you."

Cullen arched a brow. "Is that a threat?" His tone even as his body was tensed for the fight.

She looked at him again, a devilish smirk across her lips. He thought her silence would say it all, but her eyes grew softer in a second, then confused, then full of mischief. "You really don't know." She gave a small scoff, the looked to the night sky, smirking to herself. She gave a sound of disapproval, then shook her head again.

"What don't I know, exactly?"

She gave half of a shrug and took another drink. "Anything. Everything. The world. Our place in it. Time. Life. Death" She paused, looking inwardly to herself. "Accident versus coincidence." She made another sound as if discovering something about herself that she didn't know.

"Let's start with the basics. Who do you work for?"

She gave a cunning smile at him. "That's the real question, isn't it? Who do we work for?"

Cullen's face dropped. "Really?"

"Is it fate? Is it the Gods? Is it Justice? Or Vengence? Knowledge, or hunger? Because-"

"You can't be serious."

"Because if it is fate, then why do we bother doing anything? It has been fated that this and that will occur with or without my motion. What should I care about? However, if it free will, and things move according to how we live our lives, then what is the purpose of the gods? They divine nothing. Our prayers are nothing. Why even go to the temples if it is up to us on how we get into Sovenguard?" She gave a blasphemous shrug, even though he was slightly lost on what she was talking about.

"I was looking more for a name," he stated into his tankard.

She gave another shrug as she took a drink. "What is in a name? Even if I was to sit here and start saying names like, Isran Heavy Arm, or Biojorn Bear Helm, or Marcino of Cerydil, can you tell me what they look like? What they have accomplished? What faction they belong to? What God do they pray to?" She shook her head again. "These names mean nothing to you." She sighed, taking a drink from her tankard as she looked over the mountains. "I am here. I am with you now."

Cullen arched a brow at that statement. He swirled the drink in thought as the two sat in silence. "Look," he started, "if we're going to work together, we have to have a way to communicate without beating a pummeling each other to dea-"

"How bad was it?"

"What?"

"That tongue lashing you got from the girls earlier. How bad was it?" She asked taking a drink from her tankard. Cullen remained silent. He didn't want to tell her that Josephine has a way with words that are sharper than any demons claws. That Liliana's eyes, while usually calm and soulless are nothing compared to the fury of her rage. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for that." She said looking over at him. "Thank you. I don't know what they had in store for me, but whatever you did angered them and probably saved me."

Cullen swirled the drink in his tankard. "They were trying to haggle you to four thousand a year on a two year contract plus commissions on enchanted items that you would produce at least three a month. You're welcome, by the way."

"Would I see the commission?"

"No. They were going to sell them to nobles as an 'exotic enchantments' at five times the cost."

She made a look that inspires impressive actions on their salesmanship, nodding at the idea of it. "Thank you. "

"Oh" he said with a smirk as he took a drink, "don't thank me yet."

"Oh" she bobbed her head sarcastically at him. "What's your nefarious plan then?

"Mostly, it involves your bones becoming stuck in some dragon's teeth by the end of the week." He gave a charming smile that she mimicked back at him.

"I've heard a dagger to the kidney works most of the time. Is that what I have to look forward to? Stumbling into some dragon's lair. Bleeding?"

All Cullen could do was smile. "No, I'll make sure it's a fair fight. After all, you've slain soooo many dragons. You must know what you're doing, right?" She smirked at the comment but let it slide. Not fighting or even validating his point. "This whole contract bit. Seems like a waste of time, doesn't it? I mean, they're putting the cart before the horse. You're not going to survive. You haven't proved anything. Why go through the process?"

She grunted in agreeance as she sipped her drink. "I'm curious though. If five spies, a King, and a physical spirit were able to verify my story, what do I need to do to prove myself to you? Not that you care."

Cullen felt a smirk curl on his lips at her last sentence. "You care because I'm the only one who can see through his farce."

"You care because I made you look like a jackass. Twice." Her blue eyes turned to him with full mirth of his humiliation. "In a matter of hours." she smiled. A closed-lip smile that made his nose twitch in anger and frustration. "How's the ale?"

Cullen took a breath, setting his tankard on the table, and leaned towards her. "You should know, the minute the king is gone, the minute you do happen to slay the dragon in Red Cliff, you're going in a cell." She drank her mead like his threat meant nothing to her. "You will be watched, daily for machinations only to be released to kill on command." She turned to look at him. Her eyes were board. She's heard this line before. But the fact she wasn't indignant of it, didn't fight it, means she knew how to fight out of it. Her tired expression turned back to the mountains.

"Of all the places Bull took me today, I don't believe he showed me your office." Cullen turned his eyes to her, the threat barely vailed. "Seems like something I should know. After all, I report to you now, right?"

He wanted to snarl. But instead, he took a breath, and let her try. "My office is the one above the keep's gate."

She shook her head. 'That is a horrible place for your office. An assassin could sneak in, kill you, and jump from the window out of the castle with no one the wiser."

"Speaking from experience?"

She shrugged. "It's how the Emperor died. All of Tamriel set into mourning. At least with the Inquisitor's room, you have to work for it."

Cullen sat there with his jaw slightly agape at her. 'Did you just threaten to assassinate the Inquisitor?"

She gave an annoyed sigh. "Noticing weaknesses does not equate to assassination plots. I'm sure you're doing the best you can."

Cullen shook his head, drinking from his tanker until he almost spits it out when Sera jumped in from the shadows. "You're the dragon slayer right?"

Uthreida turned to see the blonde elf enter their area. "Aye, so I'm told."

"Bloody Brilliant yea."

Uthreida gave a look like she didn't understand but still raised her tanker to the girl. "Aye, aye."

"That dragon's got everyone scared and pissin their trousers. All down and jus, bleh. But then you walked in, yea. You gonna be killin it then, yea?"

"That's the goal."

"Wicked. Right, I'm Sera. I'm told you got a hard ass name to pronounce. Alright if I call you Dragon Slayer? Or just, Slayer for short?"

Uthreida gave a chuckle. "Everyone else does."

Sera scrunched her face for a second. "You got a weird voice. What's up with tha?"

Uthreida gave a laugh at the woman so much as leaning forward and taking a breath after. "That's about half of it, aye."

"Right." Sera looked around and saw only the two of them in the room and looked past to see others listening in. "You gonna kill that dragon in Redcliff then? The big one."

Uthreida gave a shrug. "I had every intention. Though, Commander may have a different plan." She tilted her head to Cullen to make him known.

"Shite." Sera seeming to notice who was in the room, tried to duck behind the woman then gave her own chuckle. "Thought it was a different John, you know.

"You've gone this far, Sera. May as well keep it up." Cullen commented as he drank.

"Right yea, so, dragon, Redcliff."

Uthreida arched a brow at the conversation. "Why? What are the odds?"

Sera smirked. "Earmuff, Commander." Cullen only looked at her with a board expression. "Right. Thirty-two you run before you even see it. Thirteen you run after you see it. Fifty it kills you. Five you kill it."

Uthreida raised her brows. "Five?"

"Yea."

"To one?"

"Yea." Sera shook her head at the odd conversation.

"Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel welcome. I guess I should be pleased that fifty percent think I'll be honorable enough to be killed by it."

Sera heard someone walking bay and shouted, "Dead woman walking." When they passed she leaned in. "Look. Simple yea. Need the money. Varric's closing bets tonight. What's gonna happen?"

Uthreida lowered her brows to the girl, then looked at Cullen. "In my culture, the person who has the betting against usually isn't aware that the betting is even happening."

"Yes. We generally have a policy about gambling in the barracks."

"Piss off" Sera retorted, only to resize who she was talking to. "Respectfully." She turned her attention back to Uthreida. "Look, ABCs yea." She nodded her head several times to get the answers.

Uthreida smiled at the elf. She placed her tankard on the table and reached into her pack. After fishing for a moment, she pulled out a sack. "Put four hundred that I slay the dragon. That my blades will be covered in its blood as I stand above it." She tossed the bag to the elf. The sound wasn't coins but something else.

"Yea" Sera looked at the bag with concern. "Don't think there's enough in here to pay if you die."

Uthreida smirked. "It's enough. Think of it as an advanced payment if I'm wrong."

Sera looked at her with suspicion as she opened the bag. She reached in and pulled something out. Her eyes lit up and Cullen understood why when she lifted it to the moon. It was the largest emerald he had ever seen. Not cut, but still huge.

"Andraste's tits. This thing is huge. Where did you get this? Snag it off some old, whenchy bird then?"

Uthreida gave a low chuckle. "Kind of."

"Wicked, uh, problem though. You can't bet."

The Nord shrugged. "It's not mine. It's his."

"Huh?"

"What, no, I can't be a part of this." Cullen all but stood to fix this error.

Uthreida held her hand up to calm him. "You're not." But leaned into Sera. "Put it in his name, after all, he can't be seen doing it."

"Stop this."

"Hey, by the way, is there a place I can take my gold to be melted down into Royals?"

Cullen paused at the random change of topic. "Val Royox, I guess."

"Excellent."

"You'll never go there."

"damnit."

"I know a guy." Sera pipped in. "How much you got."

"Oh, you know, enough. Go, run. While he's confused." Taking no time to waste, the elf jumped up and out of their area leaving Cullen to call after her only to give up when she escaped his eye sight. He turned his eyes to the woman next to him. "Fifty-fifty on the gold. I want my jewels back."

"You can't just-"

"It's not even your money. Leave it."

"You're already being paid for this"

"And"

"And that is completely unethical."

"Aw, what's the matter, scared of your soldiers finding out you have some faith in me? Scared to boost a wee bit of their morale?" Cullen instantly soured at the comment. "So, about that jail cell."

Cullen threw his head back at the woman who he knew was grinning like an idiot. That's what all this was about. If he shows faith in her, he can't very well put her in a cell after this. "Maker, I hate you." She gave another laugh at his plight. "it's all about gold with you, isn't it."

"Not really."

"Not Really? Care to explain how you jumped from eight hundred ahead to two thousand then?"

"Bull is very persuasive." Cullen sucked his teeth to make her talk. She smiled as he looked at the mountains again. "Look, I used to live my life chasing after gold. Now, I don't need it. I've lost too much to care about it. Aye, need it to survive, but I don't need it to live. You know what I mean." She looked at him with honest eyes and gave a small smile. "Look, you can donate the gold back to the Inquisition, but I want my jewels back. They mean more."

"Then gold."

"They were a gift." She stated as if it ended the conversation. "Besides, if I die, I don't need them."

"And if you run-"

"I will not run."

"She says,"

Uthreida looked at him, not in anger, not in fear. Not even hurt, but rather curious nature. She gave a one-sided grin as she watched him for a moment. "What does it take to prove to you?"

Consistency, trust, understanding, not trying to kill him at the first meeting. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." She said reflectively.

He gave a heavy sigh as he looked over the mountains. "Look, as far as I can tell, you're nothing more than a berserker mage, who only seeks to put down others around you by any means necessary. Who's apparently rich, and has no concept of death. Undisciplined and untrainable."

"The last bit is more a reflection of you more than anything, but we're not going to talk about that."

"Shave my ass, the Commander?" Varric balled from the lowest floor of the tavern. Cullen groaned at the concept but was forced to let it slide.

"The berserker bit, though." She paused as if letting memories flow through her. "Aye. It's a problem. I honestly didn't realize it until it was too late. I've taken up habits to curb it. To refocus my breathing." She shook her head softly. "I can't let it control me. I have to fight it. Less I become" she clinched her jaw as if giving the name makes it real. But then she smirked. "It's been a long time since I cut loose, actually. You fought well today."

In the words of Sera, "Piss off."

"Uh, no. I'm serious though. Do you how many men live and die by their shield? Who refuses to let go when they're put into that kind of pin? The fact that you let go, is impressive. Show fluidity and resourcefulness."

"Still had me on my back though."

She shrugged. "You held up well."

"Until the King saved me."

"Eh, you would've figured it out."

Cullen paused and thought of the question that was bothering him all day. "Why did you yield to the King?"

"Aside from the fact that he's a king?" She took a deep breath and finished her tankard. "I made a promise that I wouldn't harm him or his people."

"I'm Fereldan."

She jutted her jaw for a moment then smirked. "And now I know. Besides, aren't you a little big to be hiding behind that skirt?"

"You're the one that made the blanket promise."

"Keep in mind, I'm still allowed self-defense. But that's not the point of his conversation. You fought well. You impressed me today." Cullen could feel the back-handed compliment. "Not in awe, but impressed."

There it is. "You are either easily impressed by the littlest things or your people are complete pushovers."

She gave a laugh but her smile was self-deprecating. "Oh, this is going to be a long campaign. So there's this thing that we do. Two people, two warriors may not always get along at first, but as time progresses, even into hate, they have to learn to appreciate the other. This appreciation is what creates the shield brothers. So, brother-"

"Nope."

She a disappointed sound as she looked at him. "Will you at least hear me out?"

"No."

"You said we needed to communicate. I'm trying."

"No."

She took a deep breath and tried again. "Commander, I'm not your Soldier. I'm your contractor. You want to communicate, fine. But we need to build our relationship on something other than animosity. Usually trust, mostly respect-"

Cullen chuffed. "You think I'll ever respect you?" his tone was pointed, and judging from her offended expression she felt it.

"I'm going to give you a minute to retry that line."

Cullen leaned in closer to make his point clear. "I don't respect you."

Uthreida clicked her tongue, shaking her head in dismay. "So earlier, when you said communication, did you mean two ways or-"

"One way."

"Got it." She stood from her chair, slinging her bag over her back, and reached for her tankard. "Good evening commander. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to eat and drink your armored weight, and put it on your tab." She gave the fakest smile as she exited.

"Right."

"Drinks on the Commander!" She shouted causing the whole room to an uproar in a ruckus.

"Slayer!" he called after her.

She turned and glared. "Suck a fart out of my ass."

Cullen could only watch her leave with a look of disgust written on his face. Ew.