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.

4. Chapter 4

Uthreida looked to her left side without moving her head and saw the Soldiers still flanking her as she approached the Commander's office. He could've just sent a runner. She would've come. Eventually. But instead was ripped from a conversation with Dorian as she was learning more of this land's magic when the two appeared. Both slightly frightened of offending, but aware that if they failed, they would have additional duties.

She felt her lips purse as she pushed the north door open and entered. The Commander was reviewing a report with another Soldier. No, wait, Blackwall told her the orange cord on their shoulders meant officer. So, he was finishing a conversation with an officer. Okay. He looked at her then returned to the conversation with the officer. Discussing guard shifts and resupply dates. The officer gave a salute and the Commander waived him off. The officer exited the east door. The Commander waived a hand for them to approach. Uthreida waited on the Soldiers to escort. But when no one moved, she realized they were waiting on her.

With a sheepish step, she approached his desk as he bent over, looking for something on the tabletop. "We've received word from the Fallow Mire. Now that the area is free of rifts and demons, the scouts noticed that a dragon has recently taken up residence in the area and have requested your assistance." He lifted a parchment and gave it a quick scan to confirm his report. He looked her over, seeing her casual wear of a large maroon shirt, her thick rus trousers, that Bull seemed to approve of, and her black leather boots. "You will be leaving in the morning to aid the men of the area. You'll be taking a small element to travel with you to keep you safe on the roads."

"Or," she said with a sigh, "I can take care of it meself with a map and compass."

He arched an annoyed brow. "No." he stated with little emotion. He placed the parchment on the desk and looked her over. "The men will guard you. I don't need some bandit with a lucky shot to take out our only chance of killing that Arch Demon."

"The lucky shot is going to kill me regardless of the men that accompany me."

She watched him take a cleansing breath at the conversation. His eyes piercing hers in aggression. "Be that as it may, I still want to ensure your protection, Lady." He hit the last title as if it was meant to show her place in this conversation. He knew nothing of the person he was talking to.

She felt the knife. She saw the scathing as he was willing to be cordial in front of his men. She saw him struggling and smiled. "You're right, Commander." She said with a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Forgive me, I didn't understand before. It would be such a shame to be left to rot because of some unknown figure in the area that wanted to take advantage of me and my knavery of the land. You're so kind and considerate to ensure my safety, Commander. I'm sure I will be left in the best of hands." She gave her best fake smile, and he was confused at the turn around. His eyes looked behind her. She didn't have to look to see the two soldiers making a face of awkward presence between the two. Even they would have heard her tone of condensation as clearly as he did.

"Out." He barked at the two soldiers. They made a quick salute and left in the closest door they could find. He turned his gaze to her, his intense eyes boring into hers. But she only smirked. "What are you doing?"

"Agreeing. Now," she walked to his desk and saw the map of the area. "Where are we going?"

"Why?" His tone a sharp indifference to her question.

She gave a mild shrug. "I've never heard of this place. The Follow-?" she lowered her brows in mocking confusion.

"Fallow Mire."

She repeated the location, but her eyes turned back to the map. "Where is it?"

"Why?" he asked again, this time with more heat.

"I like to know where I'm going." She said with a smile. "Even if I am surrounded by your bravest of warriors. If bandits frighten you so much, it may be best that we all know where to meet. In the event we get separated, of course." She looked at him like a mother consolidating a child.

He arched a brow, not buying her reason. "You'll be fine."

She feigned surprise as her eyes went wide, a hand to her mouth. "But Commander, these bandits must be, why, seven feet tall, with weapons made from the bones of their own enemies. I don't know if I can protect myself. If you are concerned, bravest of the brave, whatever shall I do? Aye, a dragon is one thing, but bandits" she gave a theatrical worried sigh. "What route would you suggest, Commander?" She blinked multiple times to feign innocence.

He drummed his fingers on the desktop three times, his annoyance slowly escalating as the lines between his brows grew deeper and deeper with each passing second. His frown seemed to become more serious with each roll. "You leave in the morning with the men." He turned his back to her to round the desk.

"I had every intention of leaving with them." She stated with the same falsetto.

He paused, physically reviewing her words. "But not arriving." He turned, looking at her over his shoulder. His hazel eyes trying to stare her down, but she wasn't moving. Nor impressed. He turned to face her. She maintained the look of innocence as he approached, but didn't show any signs of backing down. "I don't know what game you're playing at-"

"What game?"

"They will go to keep you safe-"

"And I am so happy about that."

"So you don't run off and get lost in a land you claim you don't know-"

"I don't know this land, so-"

"You will arrive at the Fallow Mire, with the men, or so help me-"

"You'll what?"

He clenched his jaw and breathed deeply through his nose. She could almost see the steam from his breath mixed with the mountain breeze. She smiled sweetly. "Commander." He grunted, taking a physical step away from her. "I understand that-"

"What could you possibly understand-"

"That you are scared of losing me-"

He scoffed

"Of losing what I represent-"

"You are nothing more than an expensive asset to the Inquisition. If this wasn't a time of war, you would've been turned away."

"However, I do find the need to point out some of the more pressing matters."

"Such as" he spat.

"You do not have the manpower for them to accompany me."

The initial look of shock was quickly swallowed up by indignation. "What would you possibly know of our numbers?"

She took a deep breath and dropped the act. "I've seen your rotations, the carriages of supplies, I've heard your men speak of where they are located and how far flung they are across Ferelden. Your numbers don't match what you're doing. You've got a skeleton crew guarding Sky Hold. To move more of their numbers from here to, wherever it is you're secretly trying to send me, reduces your capabilities, security, and standing here."

He tilted his head back from her, watching her. "Our numbers aren't your concern, Slayer."

She almost growled at him. "Commander. Let me 'lose' the men on day two. They will have no option but to return and inform you that they lost me. I will continue on, with no one the wiser, and kill that dragon. You'll save face while still maintaining the presence in the area."

He scoffed. "Never minding the fact that we'll be the laughing stock as my forces can't even keep track of one girl."

"That one 'girl' slays dragons for a living. So, it's to be expected." He gave a sour look at her and her, what she presumed was his assumption, of her standing in the Inquisition. "It's easier to watch a thousand sheep than to keep track of a single girl. Look, keep the men here. Trust me to kill this-" he started laughing under his breath causing her to stop as it carried more than just humor.

"Trust you?"

"Aye."

"No one here trusts you."

She jutted her jaw at him. "Your king does."

He gave another humorless laugh in her face. "Is that what you think that was?" He asked, waving his hand between the two of them. "Is that what you think all of this is? Trust." He scoffed with a smile. "You are truly naïve."

She gave her own expression of annoyance at the man. "Then let me kill this dragon. Alone. Let me earn that trust."

He grew serious, looking down his nose at her. "Trust and loyalty isn't earned after a single action, Slayer."

She rolled her eyes. "It can, actually." He opened his mouth to retort. "You allow me to travel alone. I will bring the skull back as proof of deeds. The people will see that the Inquisition has the capabilities, has the assets" she pointed to herself, "to bring order back to the world. The people will look upon this deed and see that you, the Inquisition, trusts this little Soldier, this little Slayer, to do the job for the betterment of the people. They will flock to see, experience, and know the power and hands of the Inquisition. Allow me to kill this dragon, without your men getting in the way, and you will have new recruits pouring in." She watched as his eyes softened at the idea, cutting away from her in thought. "Let me do this. Allow me to sing your praises as I go."

Cullen took a deep breath, mulling the idea over in his head. "You want me to trust you."

"Aye."

"Then earn it. I'm going with you."

Uthreida felt her patience snap. "You valor song seeking whore. You will put your men's live-"

"Shut it."

"in danger all so you can claim the title that so many have fought-"

"You are an expensive asset and I will not allow you to simply throw your life away when-"

"to achieve only to let the work fall to another. So your blade will be bloodied-"

"the real enemy isn't even made present yet."

"even without the sweat on your brow."

"Do not talk over me."

"You command from your post. Your place is here not-"

"AT EASE." He shouted over her.

She took a breath, ready to cut him to ribbon with her voice. But the look on his face made her swallow back her Thu'um.

Both were breathing deeply trying to control their anger at the other. He snorted, standing taller than her with his fists no longer clinched at his sides. "As you have graciously pointed out, you know my men's movements. And because you're willing to use it as a motive of opportunity, there can be no trust between us. Further, seeing as how you are more than willing to abandon my men, whose objective is to protect you in the field and back off when you engage. I now have to follow because I'm the most experienced when it comes to tracking mages." His nose twitched when he spoke to her, letting his deep seated resentment show through. He took a measured step towards her and dropped his tone. "You may advocate for your freedom, but all you've done is tighten your own noose." She was ready to bend his will. To make him shut up, stand back, and awe at the dragons blood in her veins. She was ready to kill him, skin him, and make a proper sacrifice to the gods. But as she listed and categorized all the reasons and methods of his death, he smirked, thinking he had won this battle. "You question my orders."

"I question" she started strong, but backed off. Let him think he won. He arched a brow at her half answer, daring her to finish. His emotionless eyes revealed nothing to her. Cut him down. "I question your experience."

She watched as his nostrils flared and his nose twitched as if he was biting back a snarl. The deep lines in his brows created the look of a man ready to kill her in a moment's notice. "We leave in the morning." He seethed quietly through clenched teeth. "I suggest you pack your things and prepare your horse."

He turned quickly from her and walked away creating distance between the two. She felt the snarl on her own nose. "I've never met a man more hardheaded, and I hail from the motherland of stubborn bastards." She said as she exited the office, clear enough for him to hear.

"Fereldan then?" his tone more upbeat as he smirked at his victory.

With one hand on the latch, she gave a growl as another soldier entered from the southern door with another report for the Commander. He turned his full attention to the Soldier and seemed to completely ignore her presence.

XxXxXxXx

Four days. She thought to herself. Four days of this man's pestering and willful attempts to piss her off. Anything to make the trip that much more unbearable, he was able to comply.

Because she had the grand idea of parading the skull back to Skyhold, she got to drive the cart. Her ass learned the landscape of the land with each ditch, rock, and bump on the Kings road. She wanted to jump on Ragnar's back to make it easier for herself, but knew that the wheels made it easier for the horse to move her weight.

He told her to pack light as they would only be gone for about two weeks. He, conveniently, didn't pack an extra tent because she doesn't sleep with the others. She didn't need one. She was of ice and snow. A little cold never bothered her, right? It's not like she needed it. So instead of warm in her furs, she had to use her cloak for warmth as she slept in the cart she drove with the other supplies for them.

She was told that the Soldiers would bring all of the food, but she was the only one to pack a bow and arrows. So, she had to hunt for the Soldiers, and his damn incorrigible smirk, every night. Though while they prepared the food, she noticed that the bowls and spoons were always in short supply. She was forced to use her ale horn to hold her soup at camp. The heat from the water melting the bees wax in the horn made for disgusting dinners and almost not even worth it breakfasts of porridge. She feared the smell that would come from not properly cleaning and sealing the horn while on the road.

She tried to engage with the Soldiers on the trail and start some conversations, but realized, as one let slip in conversation, that if the Commander didn't like her, it was best to keep their distance. She was forced into silence for the last three days as the others feared his wrath rather than her voice. While none of them know for sure what the issue was between the two, they all kept quiet on the road just to be safe as he was the one who paid them and not her. It was also suggested that traveling with her was a sure way to either live or die in interesting ways.

And then, it started to rain. After three days of failure to talk to anyone and enduring the commander's passive aggressive methods, the rain made it to where she couldn't even read a book on the journey to pass the time. And now, her cloak was soaked making her evening of sleep all the more unbearable. While not his fault, she was finding ways to make it to where he would've known of the weather in the area.

She heard the familiar clip of his pale horse's shoes as they caught either rocks or the paving of the road. By the Nine, she was ready to kill him. She was ready to rip out his throat and show it to him. She was ready to have him on his knees, his back exposed, as she popped every one of his ribs from his spine knowing he would scream in pain. Then, show him how his lungs worked as he did it.

"Why are you smirking like that?"

Uthreida looked over to see him looking amused. She met his smile. "Just thinking of all the ways I'm going to kill you."

He paused, the smirk never leaving his face, then laughed once at her arrogance. "Well, at least you're entertained. We'll be breaking for camp in a few hours to allow the men out of the rain. We should arrive in the Mire by midmorning." Uthreida looked at the rear of her horse in annoyance. More time for her to sleep in the rain, she assumed. "As I'm sure you've heard, the Quartermaster overlooked the fact that we had an additional party with us." She almost wanted to scoff at his excuse. "As we grow closer to the Mire, there will be two men on patrol for the night, thus making room for you in the tent. If you would like to, that is."

She looked him over to see him looking away from her. His tone implied an apology but also superiority. She arched a brow at his comment but remained silent.

He noticed the silence for a moment, then looked her over. Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "Look, you don't have to prove you don't need people all the time." Her look of mild intrigue switched into full blown disgust for the man. He lowered his brows at her expression. "What?" She blinked slowly at him hoping he would understand the implicit conversation that was actually happening. He chuckled and checked the reins of his horse. "You blame me for this." Uthreida gave a wide smile showing all of her teeth to the man. He gave a single nod at her before shaking his head. "Don't get me wrong, I am impressed with your capability to overcome any hardship that has come up without complaint. It's obvious you're used to hard traveling. But, I'm your Commanding Officer. Your fighting effectiveness, training, consumption, and comfort are my responsibility. However, you did not say that you wanted to sleep in the tent nor make any inclination that you wanted to. You slept in the cart with no word to anyone. We assumed you were fine with that." She gave a board look at his excuse. Not believing his words for a moment as this was all his doing.

He only arched a brow at her. With a defeated sigh, he looked ahead at the road. "Do you want to sleep in the tent?"

"Aye."

He nodded again. He clenched his jaw as he surveyed the road. "The men aren't trained in a bow as well as you. That's why they didn't bring theirs. While we are thankful for your foresight and hunting capabilities, you can take the night off to dry out and I'll hunt. That said, may I borrow your bow?"

She looked him over in introspection. Where is all this coming from-oh, he wants to lure her in and make her weak. Uthreida didn't even consider him taking her weapons. The Ebony Bow held the gather soul enchantment. How would he react when he discovers that killing a creature will take it's soul? Or even, a Soldier that has probably never even heard of such a thing. She looked away from him. "I don't mind the hunt." While not a technical lie, she would prefer to dry out her gambeson and trousers before facing a dragon. The chaffing.

Cullen arched a brow at her, but took a deep breath. "If you don't feel comfortable giving me your weapons, Erik is….decent…enough. I'm sure he can find… something."

She clenched her jaw. "Is there any good sized game here? I'll need something to draw the dragon."

"I saw deer prints a few miles back. Could be an option. And with the rain, you should be able to hide your scent and movements." She looked at him in mild reverence. In her anger, she didn't take in the environment and how does he know how to hunt? He hunts mages, but hunting people is hardly the same as game. He looked at her and she looked away quickly. She felt him smirk. "My father was a trapper. I know how to hunt."

Uthreida felt herself smirk. "You choose the worst group of soldiers to protect me on this journey, Commander."

He gave a knowing 'hmm' "As you so graciously pointed out, I don't have the manpower to pull our best from Skyhold. That said, these volunteers would give their lives to protect you."

She shot him a board look until a large crater in the road damn near threw her from the cart. She heard the Commander snicker softly as she adjusted herself on the cart again. "Well, at the very least, I'm glad we can agree on something."

"At the very least" he said with a final tone, "given the men that are present, I will be relying on you to protect them. Hence, the distance between us for the past few days. I was just trying to give you your space." She shot him a scornful look. Space? That's why he told the Soldiers not to talk to her. Wasn't the whole point supposed to be reversed? Didn't he force this to show that she needed protecting? Cullen rolled his eyes. "I'm aware of the irony." This could've gone a lot faster if he'd just given her a map and half the trust he's placing in her now.

Uthreida looked at the forest line, trying to exhale her anger at the man who held it like a weapon. He would be her undoing. "What should we expect when we arrive?" She wanted to change the subject for his own mortality.

"To the Mire?" he gave a sigh as if it spoke more volumes than anything. "Gathered from reports, the undead, Avvar, and a dragon, apparently."

"What are Avvar?"

He looked down at her and smirked. "Barbarians from ages past. You might like them. Cousins I'd imagine."

Uthreida rolled her eyes at the Commander. He will use any excuse to call her that. "What makes them barbaric?" she asked for the sake of conversation, but her tone was flat.

"Well," he stated, adjusting himself on the steed. "They prefer the old ways over the new. They often look at the world through ignorant eyes and deny the presence of the Maker. They often hide or stick to the mountains rather than the villages."

"Like the Inquisition?" she asked, smiling at him again with triumph.

He saw her look of forced connections between the past and the present. "Truth be told, it is said that Andraste was Alamarri, the older tribesmen of the Avvar, but turned her eyes when she beheld the voice of the Maker. The Avvar are the reminites of an ancient past."

Her eyes cut to the flaming sword on his venbrace that she was informed was the symbol of the Templars. Templars are the military of the religion he prayed. Whose leader was once the Avvar that he referred to with a tone of indifference as if he was regurgitating what he had read in passing. "They are your ancestors?"

He gave a mild scoff with a tilt of his head that indicated more truth that he would like to believe. "Before Andraste, Fereldan was the land of the Alamarri. Different disconnected tribes that would often war with one another. It wasn't until King Calenhad that the tribes united. Those who united became Fereldan. Those who didn't, renamed themselves as Avvar."

Her mind was taken back to lessons of Atamora and how the Nords were once warring with one another. Viking their way through each other's territory. For all they had done, both good and ill, they were still her ancestors. She looked at Cullen again who kept his eyes on the horizon. "They are your ancestors, but you deny them?"

He quickly looked down at her with an arched brow and resumed his eyes ahead. "I suppose. Their teachings are not ours, their religion is not mine. Ancestor or not, I don't claim them."

"Claim or not, you can't deny them." He took a deep breath but let it pass. "Their history is yours. Their roots are yours."

"I disagree."

"Because the world would be a better place if everyone just agreed with your mindset?"

"If everyone had some common sense, yes."

"What is common is not always common. What is common to the wolf is chaos to the elk." The two shared a look for a moment. "You have yet to tell me what makes them barbaric."

He took a deep breath again. "They pray to the earth gods."

"Earth gods?"

"Mountain father, sky mother and the like."

Her mind raced with the ideas of Shores bones and Kynes winds. Maybe she was closer to these Avvar than the common Fereldans. But he still wasn't answering her question. Looking at the Forsworn, she needed to know what she was up against. "How savage is their butchery? How far from approved is their magic? What are their warriors like?"

He looked down at her in thought before speaking. "Usually, the skirmishes between the Avvar and the rest of Fereldan are usually paltry. They choose weak, defenseless villages to attack. It's said that their raids kill every soul in the village. Recently, they have learned to trade through the threat of the blade. It's hard to tell which is more preferred. As for their magic, I can't say. Not much is documented on the nomadic clan's magic as it's usually held as a guarded secret as most outsiders are not allowed into their camps and live."

That sounded familiar. So the Avvar are to them what the Forsworn are to her. She almost shuddered at the idea of another Briar Heart. And Hagravens. "You mentioned undead?"

He shot her a smirk. "Why, are you scared?"

She could tell he was fishing for information about her in his haughty methods. She gave a shrug. "It's not a complete day without a dragur. Why? Are you?"

"No."

"Just scared of the living then?" she returned his smile.

His look was one of playful annoyance as he shook his head. "We'll be making camp in a few hours." He clicked his tongue at his horse to pull it off the road and canter to the front of the line.

Uthreida watched him ride off. She pursed her lips in exasperation at the man. Her head tilted in thought. He blamed his men for the lack of preparation. He didn't respect the life that lived in his lands. He saw her as a barbarian. He was forced to trust her to protect his men which means they aren't getting the training they need to survive. He was either a poor excuse for a general, or a poor excuse for a man. He doesn't deserve the Red Eagle. Just a beheading.

XxXxXx

They arrived. Finally. Uthreida vaulted from the cart as quick as she could. Finally. Rubbing her backside from the constant jostling and could still feel the vibrations from the road. They had arrived later than they were expecting as they had to change out a wheel due to a rut in the road. They had arrived at, what she assumed was noon but hard to tell given the cloud coverage. She almost wanted to call Clear Skies for ten minutes of peace, but knew it might set off alarms for the men. If this Mire was anything like Hjaalmarch, she was sure the Soldiers would tell her to stop as she was scaring the locals.

King Alistair told her to keep a low profile. She gritted her teeth and endured the rain. Even more.

The Commander placed his horse reins in the hands of a Soldier as he jumped from the pale horse and into the mud. A different Soldier gathered Ragnar from her and placed them in a hut that wasn't too far from where they entered. She watched as a few Soldiers disengaged Ragnar from the cart stirrups when the Commander called her over to another group of Soldiers.

She arrived at the table within a red tent. On the table was a map of the area. She was taking in the lines with a furrowed brow. Looking at the map upside down. "We're here." The commander pointed to the map that showed the road leading to the north. "The dragon has taken up residence here. Correct Corporal?" The woman behind the table nodded to the commander. He pointed to an area that looked like it was circled by cliffs.

She looked at the map with confusion. The dragon has taken residence that only it could get to. Makes sense.

"Commander," the Corporal spoke, moving her own hand over the map. "My suggestion would be to take this route, using the bridges as much as possible." Her finger moved in such a way that it seemed impossible to remember all the turns.

"Or," Uthreida countered, drawing her own hand over the map in a straight line from where they were to where she needed to go. "Taking the direct approach then climbing up the backside of the cliffs and take the dragon from above."

There was a stark stillness in the conversation and she looked up to see the Soldier looking at her with concern while the Commander looked more agitated than normal. "From above?" he stated slowly.

"It's a tight, enclosed space. I can't just walk into the lair. I get you want me dead, but I don't."

"I would not suggest that." The Corporal suggested. "There's no bridges on that route."

Uthreida arched a brow. "I'm not worried about me boots getting wet."

"Disturbing the water causes the undead to rise."

Uthreida paused. "Ah." Then physically waved it off. "It's fine. I'll take this path-"

"You realize there's a cliff there, right?" The Commander asked.

She pursed her lips looking at the map again. "Following the cliff to the break, heading west, until the mountain side of the circle. Circle to the north and start climbing. Got it." She reached over and grabbed the compass that was on the table, shaking it and checking to see if it worked. "Stay here, tend to the men. I should be back in a while."

She heard the commander scoff as she exited the tent. "Slayer." He called after her. She checked the compass to get her heading. "Slayer." He called louder, holding a growl in his voice. She turned slowly at his impertinence as he quickly approached her. "What part of 'my men are here to protect you' do you not understand?"

"The part where they'll get in my way." He took a deep breath to yell at her only to shut his eyes and breathe. Clenching his jaw several times to control his temper. She took the opportunity to reach in her pack and grab anything that wasn't of value. Empty flask. That'll do. His eyes opened and the amber of his eyes bore into her. But she didn't flinch. "Aren't I supposed to protect them?"

"We're changing guard." He said through clenched teeth. "They know the area. They can guide you where you need to go."

Uthreida rolled her head back to the heavens in aggravation of him. She has done more with less and greater with fewer people. "I'll be fine."

"That's not the point."

Her hand clenched on the flask in her hand. "Fine. Rally your men."

"Thank you." He turned and she lifted her arm to throw the flask into the water. Cullen turned and stopped her hand, causing the flask to fall a few feet from them. His sneer threatened to kill her as she jutted her jaw at the man. He leaned in, but paused looking away in thought. "What did you call me before? Valor, something?"

"Valor song whore son." She stated emotionless as she kept his gaze. He smiled, shoving her wrist from his grasp. But his smile died as quickly as it came. She got the point. Turning tables or something like that. She pinched the bridge of her nose as the image of Olafur crossed her mind's eye. How he got in front of her in the battle against the Imperial army and she killed him in a berserker state. "Just keep them behind me."

"We're leaving in five-"

"I'm leaving now." He reached for her again and she evaded. She looked at him in distaste as she took a step away from him. "Happy hunting, Commander."

XxXxXxXx

Cullen grunted. This woman is by far the most infuriating creature that has ever walked this earth. He looked behind him at the Soldiers who were barely able to keep up with her. Half were out of breath and the other half were annoyed at the lack of fighting. He looked at the Slayer. She took point. Her bow taking out most of the undead as she purposefully disturbed the waters allowing the men to take out the ones that she found to be more a nuscise than actual combant.

He felt his foot slip in the mud and almost lost his boot again. He watched her take a ridge, her bow held low as she looked over, seeing the troops behind her. Her full-face helm hid any smirk he knew she was wearing. His chin tilted low as he sneered at her again. She raised her helm proving that he knew she was watching him.

A Soldier fell behind him followed by a splash. Several of the others groaned at the Soldiers folly.

He heard the whistle of an arrow and got low. He turned, seeing the undead fall to his knees before him. Revealing the Slayer lowering her bow and drawing another arrow. The undead fell back into the water with the shaft of the arrow above the water line.

He turned, drawing his sword and shield, he ran back to his men. A corpse rising to meet him. He raised his shield to meet its blade. He ran his shield into its exposed midsection. The corpse was taken aback and slain as Cullen ran his sword across its shoulder and down to his stomach. He stepped over it as he pressed on. He came to the group of Soldiers who were helping another rise. Two undead had their swords raised to them. He quickly circled the men, holding his shield to protect them. The men ran under his arm to safety as he thrust his blade into the second's stomach. He heard one behind him approach. He slung his shield to his back. Changing his hand on the sword, and stabbed behind himself. The soft flesh of the corpse met his steel. The second stood slowly. He changed his hands again, dragging the sword from the one behind him to attack the one in front of him. Cutting it in half. He spun quickly, bringing his shield back to his front. He used the momentum to decapitate the corpse behind him.

He heard the whistle of another arrow and raised his shield to deflect. The arrow clipped the corner of his silverite shield. Looking above the rim, the archer had an arrow sticking out of the side of its head with the shaft pointing back at the Slayer. He dared a look at her. She gaged the field, watching her visor turn as she looked. He groaned. He guessed he owed her twice now.

"Commander." One of the soldiers shouted. Cullen turned to inspect the wounded. "Can we please take the bridges now?" the Corporal whined.

He turned to find the Slayer only to see her cross the ridge and out of sight. He snarled. She wanted to be alone. She's got it. They know where she's going. If they find her corpse along the way, so be it.

Cullen sheathed his sword with a snarl. "This is a suicide mission." He grumbled to himself. "Take the wounded back and move forward to the bridges." There was a small air of thanks as he crossed the field to stand with them. None of the Soldiers were mortality wounded and wanted to press on. They stated reasons, but he knew they wanted to watch her slay a dragon.

He kept his internal groan to a minimum as he moved to catch up. Safely.

The team kept to the bridges down the cliff and to the area where the dragon was being kept. Maybe he didn't see her anywhere. He took a breath and closed his eyes. He called the lyrium in his blood and pushed a small cleaning aurora to find her magic. Nothing pinged for him. She was too far.

"Sir," one soldier called, pointing to the south side of the cliffs. Cullen moved to see what he was pointing at. He didn't see any-

Oh.

Her black armor moved over the wet rock with her pack facing out. She was scaling the cliff without a harness or ropes. This woman is mad.

And part goat.

He watched her jump three times and felt his heart in his throat. This is how she chooses to die?

She found her footing and grew closer to the edge of the cliff.

He let out a breath.

He could feel the look of the men as they looked at him as to what to do next. Her intention was to scale the north side. "We'll go this way and meet her at the top." He commanded with hand gesturing. "Give me three to block the exit so it can't escape. Let's move."

The troops made it to the north side of the cliff and saw a small passage up to the top. It will be heavy with climbing.

He is too old for this.

With an exhausted breath, he took the first step and climbed until he came to a small path that led them up the side. Tired, sore, and exhausted, he looked where he had come from with three of his men still below on the trail with two staying at the foot. They probably had the best idea. He looked ahead, and noticed that the path ran across the front. To the same path she was on earlier. He pursed his lips. Given the lack of screaming or sound of battle, he assumed she hadn't engaged yet.

He heard two quick whistles. He looked up and found her black armor standing on top of the cliff about six feet above him. She had her hands on her hips looking down at him. He opened his mouth to shout at her only to have her held her hands wide to stop him. He moved a hand to her, what he assumed, was her mouth to silence him. They must be near. She pointed to the north side of the cliff that was part of the mountain. She moved to remove her cloak to act as a handhold for him.

Cullen dropped his own pack with a brow. He pulled out some rope, tying a few knots in it, threw it up to her. Slayer let it fall on the cliff she was on, before trying it off on a large... something…he hoped. Cullen tested it. One eye cautiously on the Slayer as he pulled himself up the rope. Using the cliff, he walked up the rope. The knots kept his gloved hands from slipping on the wet rope. He looked at her when he was halfway up. She looked bored, then waived her fists at him in silent encouragement.

Looking behind him, one of the Soldiers had made it up the cliff and threw their head back when they saw the Commander climbing a rope to the top with the Slayer. He had to admit, he felt their pain.

When he neared the top, she grabbed the rope, holding a hand for him to latch onto. He gave a bemused look. He weighed more than she did. Between his weight and the wet rocks, he could easily pull her off the side of the cliff. While the thought was amusing in their game of 'king of the mountain,' he used the rope only to reach the top. He was finally able to reach the crest and wanted to rest as his arms and legs were killing him. But seeing her standing there unphased made him stand to greet her at the top. He looked down and realized that while getting up there was exhausting, getting down would take more time. And be considerably more dangerous.

This was the stupidest plan he's ever had.

And now, his men's lives are in danger.

He gave a quick whistle to the men following his lead. The one on the rope looked up. He held his hand wide to stop their pursuit. He crossed his arms to make them halt and go back. The Soldier looked at him, then the dragon slayer, then nodded.

The slayer was walking away from him, but keeping low. Cullen followed to where she was going. She walked to the cliffside and knelt low, finally resting on her belly as she looked over the cliff.

Cullen arched a brow, but looked over the edge while on his feet. There was a dark purple and white dragon in the gorge. Dragging logs to an area on the edge of the rocks. He looked down at the Slayer who was watching it. Cullen laid on the rocks with her for a moment. "So, what's the plan?" he whispered.

"ha?" she asked absentmindedly as she opened a book and laid below her with a charcoal pen, doodling something.

Really, she's drawing something now? "What's the plan?"

"What's it doing?" she asked, as she looked over the edge.

Cullen looked over the edge to see it stacking the log against the rocks. "Oh, it's doing the thing I have no idea about. What's your plan? You're up here, it's a thirty-foot drop. Now what?"

"I was just going to pelt it with arrows."

Cullen shook his head looking towards the heavens. Any soldier could've done that. "Why did we hire you again?"

"What?" with her full face helm, he assumed she looked genuinely offended. "Look, on the west side is a landing about every six feet. I shoot arrows at it. It gets mad, leaves the cave, I chase, kill it."

"I have men protecting the exit so it can't escape."

He watched her helmet roll slowly as if coming up with a new plan and retort to his plan. She finally exhaled loudly. "Of course you do. Plan B it is."

"So glad my men scaled a mountain for no reason."

"I told you to keep them back." Even as she whispered, he could hear the scathing in her tone.

"If you would just communicate your plans-"

"I did-"

A bright light below them ended the argument followed by the booming of thunder. He watched the Slayer lean back as she watched the dragon shoot lightning at the logs, breaking them and setting them on fire. Cullen lowered his brows. She's never seen that before. He watched her with squinted eyes to see what she would do now.

She wrote something in her book. "Hey, Templar, uh, what's weak-strong against lightning?"

He ran a hand over his face as he took a cleansing breath. This woman has no idea what she's doing. "You're joking."

She paused for a moment. "Aye, that's why I'm asking. To see if you got the joke." She made several noises as if to oversell her sarcasm. Cullen looked at her with a bored expression. She waved her hand to tell him to start talking.

"Why did we hire you again?"

"Look, I have one skill set-"

"That much is obvious-"

Uthreida took another audible breath. "Where I'm from, the dragons are more of the ice and fire variety. Help me out."

Cullen took a breath. She did save his life, he supposed. "The natural opposite to lightning is spiritual magic."

"So I need to, pray, at it?"

"Maker preserve me." He said, covering his face with a hand. "You're taking this too metaphorically. And not at all with a seriousness this situation deserves."

She lifted her visor so he could see her face. Her expression was dark as she looked at him. "I will throw you from this fucking rock."

He was about to retort with 'please' when he smirked. "Didn't you promise the king you wouldn't harm any Fereldan?"

Her jaw clicked and grinded. Her eyes looked to the heavens. "Thank you, Tsun, for this gift of patience." She seethed between her teeth. She pulled the visor back down and stood. She looked down at the dragon in silence for a time before looking back at him. She dropped her pack. "I've got an idea. Watch that." She said, pointing her chin to her pack.

"What's your plan?"

"Kill the dragon."

Cullen dropped his head onto the rocks. That's a goal, not a plan. She crouched low and went to the east side of the rock formation. All Cullen could do was shake his head at the heavens and pray to the Maker to grant him patience, because if he gave Cullen strength…

Drawing her bow, she kept to the ledge of the rocks in the circle, until she was standing over the exit of the cave. Cullen leaned back and watched her work. Her eyes trained on the Dragon below. She waited for it to turn it's back so it would be forced to run further into the saddle between the cliffs. He watched as Uthreida lined up her shot.

He heard the yeowl from the dragon below before he saw her shoot. The Dragon ran further into the valley and she took a second shot. The dragon turned and shot lightning at the empty area. Uthreida took her third shot at it's chest. The arrow barely penetrated the hide. The dragon bolted and ran for the exit.

Cullen barely had time to react when he saw her jump. He leaped to his feet and heard her shout something. He watched as she shimmered for a moment. And in that moment, he swore she was corporeal. The dragon stopped dead and watched as this ghost stood. Her form severed as she drew her curved blade and axe, becoming physical again.

Did she just fade step into the valley?

The dragon gave a roar as it looked at her. Cullen could see that this dragon was neither as grown as the one in Frostbacks. It was mature, but no dragonling. It lifted its arms to showcase its wings.

The slayer shouted something else at it causing it to howl in pain again and close its wings. Uthreida took a sprint towards it. The dragon's head watched her move as she feigned right to go left. She slashed with her blade and saw that two more spiritual blades were at her side striking at the same locations as she was. The dragon moved to bite and the Slayer jumped back and continued her assault of the dragon. The slayer slashed at the rear legs several times. And Cullen saw it was winding up its tail to strike. Before he could call her, the wide tail sent her back. Uthreida was thrown from the dragon and lost her axe in the process. The white mist that surrounded the dragon dissipated. He watched as the woman was forced onto her knees, her helmet falling from her head as she shoved herself up. The dragon turned to look at her.

Cullen could only watch in horror as it opened its mouth at her.

The lightning stretched across the valley and hit her. Uthreida moved, slamming her blade into the ground, and screamed in pain. The dragon ran at her and she stood to meet it. She shouted again. Uthreida moved with a speed he had never seen before, each of her strikes doubled, tripled as the spiritual blades did half the work for her. She moved and was behind the dragon.

The dragon turned to look at her.

Even from his vantage point, Cullen could see both were breathing deeply. It opened its mouth but Utherida shouted at it again. The head of the dragon was forced back so violently, he swore he heard a snap of bones even as she stood ten feet from it.

The dragon fell where it was.

Uthreida walked up to it slowly. The dragon didn't move. Cullen arched a brow. She broke a dragon's neck. With her words. He quickly sensed the area. The only magic she had pulled was for the spiritual blades at her sides.

He felt fear creep up his spine at the scene below him. Uthreida took her curved blade, and shoved it into the dragon's chest. Ripping violently as she removed it.

She stepped back and he felt himself smirk. She lived. He released the breath he was holding, looking down at her in awe. She lived. The Inquisition stood a chance. She could turn this war in their favor. The smirk faltered as she became encircled in an orange light.

This woman is beyond dangerous. She was a war machine by herself. When the light dissipated, she looked up at him from the cliffside. He felt his heart in his throat as he tried to swallow it down. She looked away from him and he felt his lungs return where they should be.

He followed her gaze and saw three Avvar men enter the grove. Maker, now what?

XxXxXxXx

Uthreida pulled her blade from the dragon's chest and felt the electricity fill her body. Each movement was more painful than the next. Helmet, she needed her helmet. Oh, she needed the healing. So much. Stupid dragon. Stupid oversight. Stupid. Not paying attention. Just because it's younger does not make it any less dangerous. Stupid. Why did she do that?

The dragon's soul surrounded her and filled her chest. There was a warmth to this dragon. A familiar warmth. This was a male. The usual like from her home land. But smaller. What's it doing here? Gruthstromvat. She cast aside the questions to thank Kyne for the victory. When the warmth died and the name of the dragon on her lips, her eyes were met with the Commanders from the top of the cliff. He was looking down at her. And from the dark clouds, she couldn't read his face. But his posture was poised, ready to fight. Like he was ready to jump in the gorge and kill her himself. She rolled a shoulder, feeling the effects of the lightning in her body again.

The sound of a sword being drawn caught her attention. She turned to see three men approach. Her axe was on the other side of the dragon. With her eyes on the men as they approached, she tried to reach for her axe.

The men were wide, broad chested. One held a fur shawl over his shoulders, a leather pleated skirt, and fur wrapped boots. One was bare chested with blue markings over his body that had the same lower armor. The third was larger with a two handed weapon on the shoulder of his fur shirt, leather trousers, and fur lined boots. The three took in the sight of the dead dragon and the woman trying to move to get her weapon and helmet.

"Did you do this?" The third called to her. Uthreida remained silent, her eyes cutting to where her helmet was. If she was to battle three men, she would at least need that. "Did you kill Gormunder?"

Uthreida tilted her head at the name. Did they name it? Because that's not the name it gave her when she killed it. Did they pray to it? "Aye." She said cautiously. "What is this dragon to you?" the three men drew and held their blades low in her presence.

"You admit to killing our hold beast?" the first called out to her.

Her eyes looked at the men then behind her at the Commander. Hold Beasts, while no longer used in Skyrim, was still part of their history. And either the Commander didn't know, or was actually trying to actively kill her. It wasn't some dragon that was ravening the country. It was a damn pet. She jut her jaw. Uthreida held her hands up in surrender. "I am Dovikiin Utherida Storm-Blade. Thane to five holdings in Skyrim. Dragon Slayer on contract with the Inquisition. I demand to talk with your Jarl on grounds of contract."

Two looked ready to run at her, but third held his sword out to stop the other two from approaching. "Inquisition? You're with them?"

"Aye."

"You're a Thane?"

"Aye."

The one in charge spoke over his shoulder quieter to his men. Uthreida could only make out a few words but was more concerned with getting her helmet and axe. Her axe was the closest and strapped it to her hip before they called to her again. "Thane, you'll come with us." She arched a brow at the men, still stepping closer to her helmet. "You'll speak to Chieftain Movarn the Under of the Edvarr Hold"

Uthreida took a deep breath as she shivered at the idea of what a clan like that would bring. "Aye" she stated, picking up her helm from the ground and placing it on the pommel of her sword. She walked to the three men and held her hand to them. "Protect and guide me." She stated as was custom in Skyrim but now had no idea if they would understand.

The largest of the three looked at her with mild suspicion only to smirk. He took her arm and shook. "Aye, we shall."

Uthreida looked at the three men with growing apprehension until she heard a whistle behind her. Looking up, the Commander had abandoned his post but behind the three Avvar, stood six Soldiers, each having their blades drawn on them. The men turned and held their blades to attack. Uthreida ran beyond them, but one of the men held her to his back. "You are under our protection." The largest said, his two-handed blade ready to raise.

"Lower your blades" she called from behind the second man, fighting her way out of his grasp. She stood between the two factions, hands raised to stop this fight. "No more blood need be spilled this night." She stated to Avvar. Then to the Soldiers, "I go with them willingly. I have slain the Hold Beast. I must make amends with the Jarl." The Soldiers looked more confused by her words.

One of the Soldiers stepped forward. "The Commander said we are to protect you."

She paused, there was truth in his words. And with six on three, she could understand why they thought they could win. But this wasn't about winning. It was about honor. If these people still held beasts, she would be hunted. Uthreida looked at the fur-clad men. "You have agreed to protect me, aye? No harm will come to me until I speak to the Jarl, aye?"

The second looked at the Soldiers but seemed to understand what was happening. "Aye. No harm to you until the Thane Speaks."

She looked back at the Soldiers. "Get the Commander. Tell him what happened. If he's as good as he thinks he is, he'll know where to find me." Neither side seemed willing to let the other go. She looked at the men. "These Soldiers are under my protection as well. Will your people protect them?"

The three seemed to look at one another before speaking. "We only agreed on the one."

Uthreida looked at the Soldiers. "Can they follow?" she asked the barbarians.

The second looked at the group. "Are they with the Inquisition as well?"

"They are."

He gave a nod. "They may follow." He said, sheathing his blade. His other two cohorts were slower to respond. When they stayed their blades, the Soldiers were slower to follow.

The men started to walk and Uthreida knew she had to pick a side. "Get the Commander." She quickly ordered to the Soldiers as she turned to follow the men.

Uthreida was led through the mountains and forest above the area she was just at standing on the cliffside to the south. The men were courteous and showed her where to step to ensure the undead of their ancestors didn't rise again. Between the uncomfortable silence of the three men, she heard the heavy foot falls of the Soldiers behind her. Knowing they were at least leaving a trail for the Commander to follow. Here's hoping he actually knew how to hunt people. She broke branches, dragged her feet in some areas, and tried to make it obvious for his 'hunting skills' to find her. Gods, let's hope he's better than the Vigilance of Stenddarr.

They came over a ridge and up the side of another mountain and Uthreida was taken aback. The huts looked like she would see in Hjaalmarch with thick thatched roofs to keep the rain out. The men lead the way down the main road to the large Long House that she assumed belonged to the Jarl.

When they approached, they pushed the door open. The hall was full of others, covered in furs and more blue paint over their bodies. More eyes turned to watch her as she approached the center of the hall. Inside, she saw the lesser workings of Hjaalmarch and more like a Bandit's lair with strung together furniture and pelts that lined the walls to keep the wind out. In the center of the room was a large fire with several braziers lining the walls. The hole in the roof allowed the smoke to escape but not letting in the cold from the mountains. But her mind was on the people. While she didn't want to engage in mass slaughter, it may be the only option. Between Kyne's Peace and Dismay Thu'um, she might have a chance to escape.

The men pushed her to the front of the room where a large man sat with blue and white goat furs and horns sat on his throne. Utherida heard a 'psst' from the side of the room where Sera, Blackwall, Solas, and Cassandra stood. Sera was waving her hand at her. She lowered her brows. What are they doing here? Were they captured? Given the lack of obvious guards, probably not. She looked at the blonde elf. She seemed comfortable enough. Unsure of what the Jarl would think, but unwilling to hurt her feelings, Uthreida gave a single wave back.

"Conrad, what's the meaning of this?" the Jarl asked, his voice booming over the hall.

The larger of the three men stood beside her. "Chieftain, we witnessed this woman slay Gormunder in his own home."

Uthreida watched as the Jarl slowly sat upright in his chair with his eyes looking only at her. "You slew Gormunder? My Hold Beast." His tone slowly rose in anger and frustration.

Uthreida only lifted her chin and matched his tone for the room to hear. "I am Dovikiin Utherida Storm-B;ade. Thane to Whiterun, Winterhold, Solitude, Hjaalmarch, and Falkreith. I am the Dragon Slayer on contract with the Inquisition. I had received orders from the Inquisition that a dragon in the area was causing destruction for the people. It was only after the fact that I had learned that the dragon in question was a Hold Beast. I hold no ill will towards your lands, Jarl. And I am willing to make any reasonable reparations to you and your beast on grounds of contract."

The Chieftain stood with full anger in his eyes. "You killed my hold beast. On the orders of the Inquisition. After he just killed my son and just exiled us from our home."

Uthreida could only look at him with wide eyes. She looked at Blackwall who only gave a painful shrug showing it was true. "I was unaware of that, Jarl." She looked at him and saw his full size as he stood over her. Uthreida lowered her eyes in respect. "I cannot speak for the Inquisitor, but I can assure it was not with the intent to offend."

He gave a mocking scoff. "You call yourself a Thane but you're no better than these lowlanders."

She had no idea why she was offended, but felt the hate creep in her throat. Maybe it was due to the three phrases that she actually knew that they used, that made her feel something akin to home. She was of the ice and snow. She was from the mountain and sky. And he called her a lowlander? "Jarl, under the laws of contract-"

"Enough" he yelled over her. Uthreida clinched her jaw, knowing what was about to come next. Under the ancient laws, those who killed the hold beast were subject to death by battling each warrior to prove innocence. She rolled her shoulders, ready for the battle to come. Her eyes cut to the others. This will be difficult to explain later.

"Chieftain." Another voice stated. Behind the Chieftain stood a man who was a few years older than the chieftain and walked with a staff. His leather armor was thicker making him look larger than he probably was. His dark hair and beard were long as if to try and hide the deep scar that ran along the left side of his face. "If I may?"

The Jarl looked over his shoulder at the man. He looked at Uthreida with a huff. He took a step back, crossed his arms, and looked to the man in patience. "Speak Auger."

Auger gave a small bow. "Thane, the ancestors have spoken. We know that a dragon can only grow so large before the greed overtakes it. Hand of Korth tried to battle the Tivinters because he feared they took Gormunder. And in his fear of losing the hold, he battled the Inquisition. And we lost the Hold when he fell. Gormunder returned and was killed by the Inquisition. But Gormunder's death is not their fault. Gormunder returned to us to say his partings. We must leave this holding, and he can no longer be our beast. We must leave this behind us as we move from here to our new home. His spirit is being carried." Uthreida looked at the man in reverence. That mindset was modern. But if the people held to the old traditions, they would believe their death was iminimate. His eyes turned to Uthreida. A look of respect crossed his features, but looked at the Jarl again. His eyes were more urgent.

The Jarl looked at the man, then back at her. His jaw slightly slacked as he looked at her. "You carry Gormunder?"

Uthreida felt her eyes widen as she looked at the Jarl. They knew. They understood. They understood she was Dovikiin and what it meant. She looked to the room around her. The people were all looking at her expectantly before she spoke. They knew what she was. "Aye." She held her chin to the Jarl as she spoke. "I carry the beast."

The Jarl looked her over, his brows furrowing in question, then smirked. He looked to the older man, who only gave a knowing smile. "Gormunder lives." The older man said.

She wanted to correct them and say 'kind of' but only gave a solemn bow of her head. "Release him." The Jarl stated. "Release Gormunder so he may be reunited with the ancestors and gods."

She gave a nervous sound, "I can't."

"Why?" the Jarl demanded, taking half a step towards her. "Release him."

"I don't…know how." She kept her voice low and supplicant to the Jarl.

"You steal our beast-"

"He is not stolen." She stated over him. Raising her chin in defiance to the Jarl. She is not Miraak. "I did not steal my victory." Her voice carried a growl at his accusation and stood ready to defend her position. "I have fulfilled my contract. But the sword cannot be taken back once it has been swung. So I ask again, what is your reasonable recompense?"

The Jarl stepped towards with anger in his eyes and a shout in his throat. "You are in my hold-"

"Not for long."

The Jarl rushed her and she stood her ground ready for the punch as her hand went to her axe.

The Jarl was pushed back as the other man stood between the two. The man's scarred face looked at her in a threatened warning as he kept his Jarl at the end of his hand. The man looked at the Jarl and took a deep breath. "Careful." He looked at Uthreida again with a simmered tone, "A dragon's rage destroys all in its path."

The Jarl looked between the two and snorted. "Release Gormunder."

"I can't."

"So you take without giving." The Jarl tilted his head as his tone cut her deeply. She clenched her jaw and looked away. He was right. And it was a question she has had for a long time. What was the point if she couldn't help those who needed it? What was the point if dragons never changed? What would happen if all the dragon souls were captured and destroyed? "Thief." She looked him in the eye with her jaw still tucked to her chin. Anger masking her helplessness of his truths causing her fists to shake at her sides.

The Jarl shook his head and backed away. He took an audible breath. "Without our Hold Beast, we don't have the strength to make our new journey. The beast you hold, and will not surrender." He lifted his chin to her in decision. "You will go with us."

Uthreida saw the corner of her eye each of the Inquisition members make a motion to object, but none of them said anything. "I am under contract with the Inquisition. I am to return to Sky Hold after each beast. I cannot join you and maintain my prior obligations."

The Jarl gave a laugh. It was considered and full of his wrath. "Your obligations do not concern me."

She felt her patience snap. Her obligation was to aid the Inquisition so she could go home. "My purpose is greater than some Thane who can't even lead his own men and keep his lands."

The Jarl ran at her again only to be pushed back magically by the Auger. He turned to look at her with a sneer on his nose as a look of death in his eyes. "Dragon." He commanded. Realizing his tone, he took a breath and lowered it. "Do not think we do not respect you or what you are. But your actions are growing dangerously close to Hakkon. Use the tongue for peace."

At that moment, she heard Agerir in his words. She clenched her fist realizing that she had lost control and their dragon was wrecking some havoc on her internal soul. There was a moment of shame. She had belittled the Jarl of a land that just lost everything. And was forced to leave his home behind. In front of his own people.

The Jarl slammed something on the table, forcing all eyes to look at him. It was a small cask. "Dragon. You have killed our hold beast and refuse to make restitution to the people."

"I-"

"Did you think gold would settle this, Lowlander?" his tone mocking as he looked down at her. She turned her face from him in admittance. "I will let the gods decide. A Trial of Korth." There was an odd whispering in the group. "But because your tongue is quick to war, you will be handicapped." He tapped the cask twice before standing before her.

Uthreida had to crane her neck to see his face. "If I win?"

"You walk away, free from the punishment of killing a hold beast. We will take it as a sign from the Sky Mother, and move forward without Gormunder."

"If I lose." He only smirked. Not entirely sure what that met, she smiled at the larger man. "I accept." There was a solemn cheer from the other Avvar. "And also, what is the Trial of Korth?"

XxXxXxxx

Cullen grunted as he made his way to the village. Between the Soldiers who left trails, and broken twigs, he was able to track down where that Maker blasted woman wondered off to. He noticed the Inquisition Soldiers standing outside of the building with the cart of arms that were delivered the day before he left to the Mire. Oh, thank the Maker, Cassandra is here. If she's here, the Slayer shouldn't be in too much trouble. Hopefully. Maybe.

He approached the Soldiers and demanded a report. "They're inside Commander. Some of the Avvar took the Slayer inside about half an hour ago."

Cullen looked at the building that sounded like a loud debate or a quiet party. "Thank you." He noticed that some of the locals were eyeing him with suspicion but kept their distance. He looked behind him at the men he had brought to the camp. "Two with me." He ordered as he entered the hall and had to adjust his eyes for the bright lights of the braziers from the dark cloud coverage he just came from. He was thankful to be out of the rain for a time as he made his way around the room to look for his people.

He found Cassandra and Solas on the side of the room. Both of their eyes trained on the room. Cassandra noticed him first. "Commander. Thank the Maker you made it."

"Shite, it's the Command'a." He turned to see Sera holding a tankard and trying to hide behind Uthreida who was holding a drinking horn trying to hide behind Blackwall. The man gave a mock salute to him. Both of the women gave a chuckle.

Cullen looked at Cassandra with a new anger. "Why are they drunk?"

Cassandra gave a disgusted sound while Solas only smirked. "We delivered the arms that Inquisitor Royoc promised to the Avvar and had finished our business when the Slayer was escorted in. Tempers flared when it was discovered she killed a hold beast and was accused of stealing it's, spirit, I guess. And now, she has agreed to undergo the Trial of Korth." She looked at him with a board expression. "With a Handicap."

Cullen shook his head. "Which is?"

"Trial of prose." A man said beside Solas. The human had long dark hair and beard with a scar along his face. His garb was obviously Avvar.

Cullen arched a brow. "And you are?"

"Auger Dulang. Spiritual advisor to the Thane." He waived a mug at the three other drinking inquisition members. "The Dragon has war in her heart. The Thane is hoping to humble her and find peace."

Cullen chuckled at the idea of humbling the Dragon Slayer. "I was going to grab and go, but, I think I'll stay." He turned to look at the man and noticed that his eyes rolled back, closing his eyes for a moment and turned his head as if he was hearing something. Cullen looked at the two before looking at the man again. He gently pushed his aura and felt this Auger was a mage. What is he doing?"

The Auger's eyes opened and looked at Cullen. "You are the Guardian of the Dragon?"

Cullen furrowed his brows. "Commander Cullen, of the Inquisition forces."

"Oh," he said, raising his brows, then looked at the door of the hall. "Thank you for the swords." Cullen gave a nod. The man looked him over, but turned his head as if he was hearing something else. Again. "Should be fine." He looked at the Slayer, then at the Chieftain who was sitting on the large throne, watching her drink and eat. "She might not." The mage looked at Cullen. "She has to win this." A part of Cullen was disappointed. "If she doesn't, the Thane has the right to take her. She cannot travel with us."

He arched a brow. "What do you mean, with?"

The Auger took a drink and walked closer to him. "The Dragon carries the soul of our Hold Beast. If she carries it, she carries our fate as a Hold. The Thane will not let her go so easily. Not until she releases the soul of Gormundar." Cullen had no idea what was going on. "She needs to sing a song that will appease the gods." Cullen arched a brow at the hericy.

"Spirits, Commander." Solas assisted, sipping whatever he was drinking.

Cullen looked between the two mages, then back at Uthreida. "What do you suggest?"

The Auger took a breath. "She knows our culture, but she doesn't know the Avvar. It's peculiar. The gods know her, but she doesn't know them."

Cullen was more confused than before. This is the worst backward conversation he's ever had. Having no more idea of what's going on from ten minutes ago, he took a breath. "What happens if she fails?"

"She will leave with us in the morning."

Cullen frowned. "She can't. She's needed here."

The Auger shrugged. "Thane Movarn may not see it that way."

Cullen looked at the man next to him and crossed his arms. "You don't want her to go?"

"I am not one for prophecies, Guardian. And this is one prophecy I do not wish to see in my life."

Cullen lowered his brows. What prophecy? He was about to ask when the Chieftain stood. His goat horned helmet is still as blue and atrocious as the first time he saw it. "Dragon." He called, crossing the room. Uthreida looked up from where she was sitting next to Blackwall and Sera. "Are you ready for your Trial?"

"Aye." She said, lifting her horn of…something and tried to stand. Falling back on the bench with a laugh from herself and a grunt from Cassandra and Cullen. Blackwall helped her stand, but had to let her cross the room as she drunkenly swayed to where he stood. "Ready for ya." She slurred.

Cullen rolled his eyes and pushed his way to her. He stood before her and saw the bloodshot and glassy reflection in her eyes. "Oh, hey, oh no." she cowered for a moment before chuckling to herself.

Cullen took an exasperated breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked at the Chieftain. "Chieftain Movarn."

"Movarn the Under." He corrected.

Cullen nodded in respect. "Chieftain Movarn the Under. I am Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the-"

"I know who you are and the answer is no." Cullen popped his jaw. "Thank you for the swords."

"As the Commander, I must ask for you to reconsider. The world will not survive if she loses this contest."

"Pfft." Uthreida slapped his chest. "No Nord worth their salt refuses an honorable challenge."

"Shut. Up." He hissed. He looked to the Chieftain. "As a member of the Inquisition, and as a loan from her home country, we cannot allow nor afford for her to be dispatched to wherever you may find favor. I gave the order, your contest is with me."

The Chieftain arched a brow and smirked. "And it will be. If she loses."

"I will." She stated, pointing in braggart to the chieftain, only to stop and reconsider. "Won't?" she questioned herself. "Will? I will succeed." She finally stated at the Chieftain then looked at Cullen. "You know what I meant, right?"

Cullen took a deep breath. She does need humbling. "I should've gagged you when I had the chance. Look," he ran a hand through his hair to get the rain off. "Do something that will appease the spirits so we can get you out of here."

"Spirits?" she asked, her expression turning more hopeful. She looked away in thought. "I mean, I know an old Atmorian song that specifically – WOAH" She grabbed onto his arm to protect herself with wide eyes.

She blocked his sword as he watched several red corporeal spirits start to surround him. He was forced to draw her blade from her hip to keep them protected. He looked down at Uthreida who was looking at the spirits in confusion and drunken delight. She looked at him and chuckled. "Uh, meat and mead. Have you eaten the meat and mead?" she shouted to the hall hoping to distract the spirits. Cullen circled them, to gauge the room.

"Shite, shite, shite" Sera chanted as she pulled her bow.

Blackwall pulled his sword and shield to protect the elf.

Cassandra held her sword at the ready.

Solas held his hands up to stop them all from reacting. "Calm down."

But it was the Auger that caught his attention. The older man walked across the room to meet them, his eyes only on Uthreida as he approached, passing through several of the specters. Uthreida kept offering 'meat and mead' to the spirits while drawing her axe to protect his back. The Augers eyes searching hers for answers. "Dragon, where did you say you were from?"

Cullen turned to look at her as she took in the room. Her eyes went from the man before her, to the civilians that were in the hall, reveling in the spirits, and then the Chieftain. For a moment, he swore she wasn't drunk as she looked at the possibility around her. She searched the Auger and lifted her chin. "Skyrim."

More red specters packed into the halls, each looked directly at her and pressed to touch her. Wielding her black blade, he did what he could to protect her and called forth his mana to push them back. Uthreida turned and slapped him on the chest repeatedly in delight only to stop when she hit the hook on his left side. "Ow, I hate your armor." She grabbed him by the gorget and pulled him down to her level. "I knew it." She whispered with a big, drunken smile. "This is Nirn."

Cullen was aware that the look of confusion was written on his face as he looked at her, then Solas who was trying to convince all the Inquisition Soldiers to stand down. But he looked at the Auger. "Will they attack?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

Cullen felt his heart beat in his throat as he looked at all the red Spector's in the room. He clenched his jaw as Uthreida kept offering meat and mead to the spirits and making polite conversations until they ate. He placed her sword back in its sheath and spun her by the arm to look her in the face. "Whatever you have to do, be done with it so we can leave."

"But" she held her hands to the spirits around her with a smile. "They know." She gave a small chuckle. "I have so many questions."

He held her arm tighter. "Be done with it." He growled. She looked at him and he saw the drunkenness return to her as she smirked.

She offered meat and mead to the spirits again and Cullen found that he couldn't part from her side as it's highly frowned upon to feed the spirits unless you want something. He looked at Solas who was smirking at her methods of enticing spirits.

"The Trial of Korth," the Chieftain announced, growing tired of the continued interruptions, "Begins now."

Uthreida looked at him as if remembering why she was there. "Right." She said to herself. "A drum. Can I get a drum? Anyone?"

Cullen could feel the heart attack forming. "Does this not count as appeasing the spirits, Chieftain?" He called over the clamor of the room.

He only smirked. "Happened before the prose began. It does not count."

Cullen growled, swearing he was making up the rules of this little game as he went. "Slayer, do something now." An Avvar woman approached holding a piece of leather over a wooden circle and a stick. It only registered after Uthreida smiled at it, that it was a traditional war drum.

"I haven't seen one of these in ages." The Slayer gushed, looking at the craftsmanship.

"Today." Cullen reminded her.

"Dragon" the Chieftain called over the room, silencing it. "Do you forfeit?"

"Nah, hang on, uh" she moved to hold the drum and hit it a few times to gauge the sounds. "One moment" she called as if trying to find the rhythm. She cursed under her breath "How does it go?"

Cullen felt the anger resurge as he could feel the spirits press further into him. "You don't remember?"

"I'm drunk." She countered as if it was a viable excuse.

"You" Cullen held back his fear-induced shout at her as he forced himself to breathe. He could feel them getting closer to him. "Hurry up." He growled. He looked at the Auger who was still looking at her in shock. "Can you-" he vaguely waved his hand around the room to make them disburse. When he didn't move, he looked at Solas who only gave a painful shrug.

"Dragon-" Chieftain called again.

"I got it." Uthreida turned to face him, taking a few steps away from Cullen, and started to bang the drum softly. She started to hit the drum in a walking cadence as she went to the center of the hall. Cullen watched as the spirits started to follow her slowly. He felt his anxiety abate for a moment and wondered which of these was going to turn into a demon at any moment. She took her position around the center brazier and started to give a throat chant. He quickly crossed the room to be with Cassandra as she started to sing.

"Be prepared to fight your way out of here," Cullen stated, letting her song carry over his voice. "If she fails, she could anger the spirits and-"

"I know, Commander." Cassandra took a calming breath as she evaluated the room. "You need to be concerned with the Chieftain."

Cullen looked at the larger man and took a deep breath. "If we can avoid him and his men as much as possible." He looked across the room to Sera and Blackwall that were separated from the others. He moved to catch Blackwall's attention. The dark warden caught movement. Cullen waved them over to stand with the others. Blackwall stepped back to console Sera who looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

Sera approached with a quicker pace than he had seen, distracting some from Uthreida's song. When she met them she gave an angered look at Cassandra "Do somethin', yea? You got the Chantry magic, yea? And you," she looked Cullen up and down, "the the the'' she vaguely waved a hand at the room.

"Sera." He said with a terse tone. "I need you to go prep the horses outside. There's a chance we might have to run." He looked over to see Blackwall staying where he was at. "Why is he still there?"

"He's tryin' to protect her or somethin'."

"That's what we're trying-" he exhaled at the situation. "Makers Breath."

"Then send Elfy."

Cullen looked at Solas and considered it as the best option. If Blackwall wasn't moving, it might be best to pincer this attack. "Go dump the cart of the promised weapons and prep the horses." He told Sera. He pulled his two Soldiers closer. "Prep the horses, carts, anything we have, and be ready to run. Don't move until we have the Slayer in hand. Go."

He watched the three exit the hall, "Maker, it's worse out here." Sera shouted over the song.

He looked to Uthreida who was singing about leaving her clothes behind as she scaled a mountain. "Solas, why are they here?"

Solas gave a frustrated sigh as he looked at the room. "The ancestors" the Auger stated as he approached them, "They haven't heard of Atamora or Skyrim in such a long time. The names of the forgotten lands attracted the oldest of the gods."

Cullen looked at the man in both disbelief and skepticism. "Solas, what do you make of this?"

He shook his head slowly, reading the spirits. "They sway." He said absently. "They know the song."

Useless. He pulled the Auger closer to him and whispered low. "Can you get rid of them? The spirits?"

The Auger shook his head. "I can't. It'll violate the terms of the trial. She needs to appease the gods to pass."

"How many is she supposed to appease?"

"Twenty," he said with a shrug. "But if the Thane won't accept their presence before, it'll be difficult to calculate how many were inspired by her prose."

Cullen grit his teeth as he watched Uthreida sing of lightning a load to climb a mountain. Her voice. Her accent. He looked at the Auger. It was similar. She was Avvar. But he just said that she wasn't of their people. Their accents were the same. "Skyrim. It exists?"

He gave a slow shrug as he watched the spirits. "It would appear so." He moved to rub his neck. "There were always stories of the lands before this one, but we believed these to be creation myths. Not, physical." He looked at Cullen with the same expression he was wearing. "This is-"

Cullen waited for him to speak at the spectacle of the Dragon Slayer enchanting spirits like this. "Because I don't know if I'll have the opportunity to ask this again." He pulled the book she had abandoned on the cliffside from the folds of his cloak, "do you know this?"

The Auger took the book and opened it to a few pages and tilted his head. "I can read the letters, but the words don't make sense." He looked at Cullen with a confused expression. "It's umm…an odd dialect of Avvar. Chasid maybe? But, not ours. It would take some time to understand." He passed the book back and watched the spirits move to the rhythm of the drum.

Cullen gave a nod in thanks as he turned back to Solas. "Advice?"

"Don't attack. They want to know her. Of her. So long as she is safe and not being threatened, we should be alright. But, their loyalty is to the tribe. Not us. Don't offend."

Cullen bobbed his head. "Thank you. Will you back up Blackwall? If he's been drinking as well, he'll need some assistance. If this goes south, I want you two to grab the Slayer and run. Seeker Cassandra and I will force a path and follow you. Sera's preparing the horses now. Getting the Slayer out of here is our main objective."

"Yes."

Cullen swallowed back the fear. "Any chance you can keep them calm?"

Solas turned to look at him with a smirk. "They are calm. It's you who needs to relax. The first you perceive as a demon will become a demon." He looked at the room again. "If she needs to appease their gods to succeed, this will get worse before we can leave." He took a quick breath before picking up his staff. "Try some breathing exercises." He gave a soft smile as he looked at Uthreida. "Beautiful song though. That's what keeps them enticed." He watched as Solas crossed the room to stand behind Blackwall, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm the warrior of the specters.

Cullen watched as Blackwall lowered his shield slightly, his eyes meeting Cullens for a moment before nodding. Cullen gave a nod to the men and kept his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Remain calm." He told himself.

"I know." Cassandra scathed next to him, her dark eyes still watching the room.

He gave a puff of air but was distracted as Uthreida stopped beating the drum and sang loudly

"I summon you to the mountain blue

Where neither sun nor moon can reach you

I summon you to forests where no one dwells

And out to sea where no man rows

I summon to you to the earth and stone

To run through rivers and roll with ocean tides"

The drum pattern changed to show more of a double-time cadence with the occasional triple tap. Cullen arched a brow. "What is she singing about?"

Cassandra gave a grunt. "Climbing a mountain, naked, to find healing."

Cullen arched a brow and looked at her with confusion. "That is stupid and horrible advice. That's how you get frostbite."

She gave a more disgruntled sound and rolled her eyes. "It's poetry, Commander."

"Either way, it sounds like she's wrapping it up. Are you ready?" Cassandra rolled her shoulders, but she paused. Her head turned to look at the Thane and she shook her head softly. Cassandra stood up and sheathed her blade. "Cassandra." He warned.

"Solas said that these spirits are loyal to the tribe." She shook her head again. "We can't fight our way out of this. We have to play this smart. We have to play their game."

"Cassandra."

"Look at it." She demanded under her breath. "The people outnumber us five to one. The spirits outnumber us eight to one." She looked at him and sighed. "Commander, I understand your frustrations and fear of the situation. But we're outnumbered and we just delivered weapons." She took a breath and looked at the other two across the room. "Play their game. We have to win her back on their terms. Not ours."

Cullen looked at her then at the room. "Where is all of this coming from?"

She tilted her head to the Chieftain, who was watching Uthreida sing and drum with a victor's smirk on his face. "He won't surrender so easily."

He looked at the Auger next to him, knowing he overheard the conversation. He shook his head slowly. "No spirits have departed, but no new ones have arrived either. He will see it as a victory."

Cullen stood and sheathed his sword with a groan. "Whose side are you on?"

The Auger arched a brow. "I am the peacemaker, Guardian. Whose side are you on?"

Cullen pursed his lips at what was supposed to be a philosophical statement then looked at Cassandra. "Are you sure?" she paused before nodding to him. He grunted and walked to where Blackwall and Solas could see him. He moved slightly to catch their attention. When both were looking at him, he cut his hand across his throat to end the plan. Blackwall tilted his head at him. Cullen frowned and shook his head, stopping the plan before it began.

At least Sera is out of here and not causing a scene.

Uthreida stopped singing and was just drumming. He took a deep breath. This is it. How was he going to get out of this now? He met the gaze of the Chieftain who sat relaxed on this throne. One hand holding up his head as he smirked at Cullen. Her drumming matched the beating of his heart. Then it stopped.

The Chieftains eyes shifted from him to Uthreida. His smirk turned into an actual smile as she turned to look at him. She gave a drunk hiccup and held the drum stick at him in a mock challenge. The Chieftain clapped slowly twice, four times. And allowed his people the chance to give their own thoughts.

The citizens gave a round of applause, though it seemed more polite than anything. Cullen felt offended. He could admit, but not out loud, that she had a decent voice. Even drunk. She sang of mountains, that's their culture. Why aren't they clapping? One whistle. Thank you.

The Chieftain's eyes scanned the room, but Cullen noticed that he was taking in the spirits rather than the people. "Auger." He said to pull the man to him. Cullen watched the mage step to his chieftain. Uthreida caught his attention as she turned to look at him. A drunken smirk on her face, as she gave a thumbs up at him. And hiccupped again.

The Chieftain addressed the crowd in a deep, booming voice. But he spoke in his native tongue. That's just unfair. Cullen grunted at the chieftain. The Auger tilted his head to listen. "The gods are appeased." He stated in common. The Chieftain smirked, giving a nod of respect. But looked at Uthreida again. He said something in his own tongue to the Auger. The look on the Chieftain's face was one of opportunity. The Auger closed his eyes slowly. Not to listen, but in an ethical dilemma. "It is true. The prose is not what appealed to them. Her blood and presence is what kept the gods with us tonight."

Cullen tilted his chin down, ready to move. He eyed Blackwall. The Warden kept his gaze, waiting for the order. The Chieftain looked at the Auger and gave a nod. With a deep breath, the Auger lifted his hands. Cullen could feel him pull from the fade. His hand went to the pommel of his sword instinctively as he watched the mage. He had never seen this kind of magic before as the specters started to slowly dissipate from the room they were in. After a few moments, the spirits departed.

Well, there's half the battle. Just need the other half.

The chieftain picked something off the table as he approached Uthreida, but kept his distance from her. And in his native tongue, smiled at her.

Uthreida gave a drunken clap of hands and looked happy. "Skkaa. Who's getting married?" She asked the group of Avvar behind her. Cullen watched as the Chieftain threw a rope to her feet, and smirked. Uthreida looked at it and hiccupped. "Rope." She slurred to her feet.

Cullen's eyes went wide. Oh no. "Chieftain Movarn, this charade has gone on long enough." He cut his hand across the air to make his point. "She has passed your trials. She has appeased your gods. She has appeased your people. Let us be done with this."

He only canted his head at the Commander. "She travels with us."

Cullen took a few steps between the Slayer and the Chieftain. "She leaves with the Inquisition." The Chieftain tilted his head as he looked at the shorter human and Cullen realized just how much taller the man was to himself. He looked at Uthreida for a moment who was just connecting the dots. "The woman is drunk, due to your handicap. She cannot make these decisions in her current state."

"The decision was made when she killed our hold beast."

"And the trial for which she has passed." The Chieftain arched a brow and smirked. "Our business is concluded." He grabbed her by the arm and turned. "Inquisition." He yelled to all of his soldiers, hoping they'd hear him outside. "Let's move."

"What Inquisition?" The Chief asked.

Cullen was greeted with the roaring sound of blades being drawn. He didn't have to look at the room to know they were outnumbered. He looked at Cassandra who shook her head at him, her hand on the pommel of her blade and a sneer on her lips.

He met the chieftain's smirk with a glare. "You've already lost one son, don't lose the rest of your people for this."

His smirk died as he looked at the Commander. "That's the point. Without our hold beast, we won't survive the journey."

Cullen arched his brow, released Utherida's arm as she drunkenly staggered behind him. "Wait," she asked. "Am I the one getting married?"

Cullen stood taller than before, now with both hands free. "You won't survive the next day if you do this." He heard the group step towards him. "I've seen her kill two dragons single-handedly. What do you think is going to happen when she finds out you killed her benefactors and kidnapped her. While she was drunk. Under your command. How long do you think your people will live then?"

"Tha's a good point," Uthreida added behind him. "And I refuse to be made a slave again."

"Thane." The Auger spoke, closing the distance. "It may be wise to not get between the Guardian and the Dragon."

The Chieftain looked at Cullen with a cunning smirk. "You gave the order. I believe I owe you a challenge as well." Cullen met his look, and felt the crowd back off, if only slightly. He shot a look at Cassandra. She gave a nod to him.

"Thane." The Auger spoke with more urgency in his native tongue to the Chieftain.

Cullen felt Uthreida lean against his back and chuckle. "You should listen to your friend, Thane." She didn't slur her words as she spoke, making him question if she was actually drunk. "He speaks the truth." She rolled off his back and onto his shoulder. "If it is your death you're so eager for, I will gladly comply." She held an arm out to indicate the people, and almost tripped over her feet. She's drunk. "But they need you a lot more than they need me." She drunkenly made her way to stand between the men. "Choose your weapon and let us be done with it."

The Auger gave a harsh breath and shook his head.

Cullen realized that she just fell for the trap. He shoved Uthreida down on a bench behind him and pointed a hand in her face to sit down and shut up. He turned to the Chieftain with a set jaw. "This is the most egregious use of authority that I have ever seen. The lack of honor you have shown only further perpetuates the stories of the Avvar. You want a challenge, you got it. Let's end this. I win, Inquisition soldiers walk out of this holding. Tonight. You win, you can keep her and die in the morning by her hand. Your Auger will officiate. Name your challenge."

The Chieftain took a breath and stood taller as he looked down at Cullen. "You already have." He crossed his arms. "Auger, if you please."

The Auger looked at Cullen with an arched brow and took a breath. "The marriage challenge has been issued."

Cullens eyes went wide and his jaw went slack and all he could say was "uhhh." Cassandra gave a chortle at the situation. Cullen held a warning finger to Cassandra as he looked at the Auger with wide eyes. "What?"

"I – I accept," Uthreida called behind him. "I accept the challenge." Uthreida stood and looked at Cullen. "No offense, you're very, uh." She looked him up and down. "I fight for me own hand." And gave another drunken hiccup.

"Sit down." Cullen used his foot to buckle her knees and shoved her by the shoulder until she sat on the bench.

"I challenge," Blackwall stated from behind the group. He approached, sheathing his sword as he stood beside Cullen. His jaw set and Cullen was never happier to see him.

Movarn only tilted his head at the Commander. "You gave the Order. The Challenge is yours. And yours alone."

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. Arch Demon. Arch Demon. Arch Demon. They needed her for the Arch Demon. If she goes with them, he violates treaties with the King. For the Arch Demon. For the King. For the Chantry. For Fereldan. "For the Inquisition." He said under his breath and looked at the Auger. "I accept the challenge." All of the air escaping from his lungs and his knees buckling at the sheer idea of it. He could taste the bile in his throat.

The Auger looked at him with a solemn nod. "The competition is to have the competitors give a stanza of Prose. During this time, the maiden will" she gave a rounchous laugh at the idea of being a maiden. Cullen rolled his eyes with the thought of 'that's my wife'. "The maiden will then proceed to tie knots in the rope. Each contestant will be given the opportunity to give prose. As well as test their ability to undo the maidens knots during her prose." The Auger looked at the Slayer and gave a nod. "Because the maiden is handicapped, Guardian, who will tie the knots for her?"

Cullen looked around the Auger to Blackwall and Solas with a begging look. Both nodded, though Blackwall did his best to hide his laughter. "Because there are two competitors, will there be two ropes?"

"Victor will be granted to the one who unravels the most knots."

"Can she have two stand-ins as there are two competitors?"

"No." his answer was short as was his patience.

He turned to look at the two men again. Blackwall tried to initiate a game of rock, paper, sheers, but Solas only arched a brow. Blackwall gave a sheepish shrug "I'll do it." He said after clearing his throat.

"Grey Warden Blackwall will tie the knots for her."

The Auger looked him over quickly and smirked. "Because the competitor is new to the customs, the Thane will go first. Gather your materials."

The Auger stepped away and Cullen met the glare of the Chieftain. Blackwall approached, picking up the rope that was originally thrown to Uthreida's feet. He needed to make knots that were impossible for the Avvar to undo, but also easy enough for him to complete. Or difficult enough where no one could undo them and no one actually won. Maker, this is getting ridiculous. He looked at the drunken woman who was sitting with her head in her hands. Trying not to vomit he assumed. He looked at Blackwall who was inspecting the rope as he wrapped it around in a circle as Cassandra and Solas approached. "Please tell me you know what you're doing?"

Blackwall's blue eyes met him for a second and smiled. "I remember a few."

Cullen looked at Cassandra who seemed to keep her eyes on the room and not the situation. He looked at Solas who was watching Blackwall circle the rope. Then looked at the Commander. He looked at Blackwall and frowned. "Can you keep an eye on her? Don't let her wander off?" Cullen asked Solas.

Solas gave a small smile but hid his face. "I'll keep your bride safe." Blackwall gave a guffaw of laughter.

"Don't…start…please." He gave a hard exhale and looked at Blackwall. The room shifted as the Chieftain stood. "Sera finds out about this, I'll never hear the end of it."

The Auger stood at his place and met Cullen's eyes. "Guardian." Cullen met his gaze as the Auger waved his hand for him to approach and stand next to the Chieftain.

Cullen looked at Blackwall who only smirked. "This is one hell of a Bachelor party." He joked, punching Cullen in the shoulder playfully. "Thanks for inviting me." Cullen threw his head back and asked the Maker why him. Blackwall took a seat on the bench next to the Slayer to start on the rope. Cullen waited until he had the first knot ready to tighten as Uthreida slapped him on the back for not coming to her rescue.

Cullen approached the two barbarians and nodded. "Ready."

The Chieftain took his place in front of the crowd. When the first word was uttered, Blackwall tightened the rope, and got to work. Cullen watched and listened as the Chieftain spouted off poetry and how Uthreida was instructing him on how she wanted the knot to look. He gave a heavy sigh. What is with these people and poetry? He arched a brow, a wrist on his sword, as the Chieftain regaled the crowd with a tale of how older Avvar each tried to climb the mountain to assail Korths mountain palace.

He waited patiently, keeping an eye on Blackwall and waiting for his turn. Cassandra and Solas kept their faces neutral as the Chieftain spoke. Uthreida sat quietly, leaning on the Warden as the chieftain spoke. There was a look of worry on her brow. But when she looked at Cullen, it shifted to distaste. He didn't want to do this either, but here they are.

Wait, did she say she was a slave?

Cullen clenched his jaw. And looked away. With a humph, he did suppose he owed her as she saved his life twice tonight with the Undead. This is the last favor he owed her. Final and last. But, ugh, people are going to joke about their marriage now. That made his stomach drop and a look of despair appear on his face.

Married.

To her.

Maker, forgive him.

It's not being officiated by a Mother. So, it's not like it's real or actually binding. But, wait-

If she speaks their language, knows their culture, she will be married to him even if he didn't see the purpose of it.

Is she Avvar?

Are these her people?

"Contestant." The Auger spoke, and Cullen pulled himself from his mind. The Chieftain smirked. Looking at Blackwall, he had a decent-sized ball of knots going but still had about fifteen feet of rope left to go. There were hisses from the crowd as he walked to where the Chieftain once stood. He looked at the room. The people wanted her to stay with them. Why was the Auger the only one who didn't?

Cullen looked to Blackwall, ready to tie a knot. The Warden gave a nod, and Cullen started. "Canticles of Erudition. Book One:

There upon the pool of the blackness abode"

He recanted the chant and looked over to see the Chieftain give an annoyed expression while the Auger smiled widely at him. The Chieftain leaned into the Auger who only shrugged. Their conversation obviously questioned technicalities. They didn't stop him, so he kept going. He could see Cassandra trying to hide her smile as best as she could. Solas only smirked.

He looked to the room and recanted the full Canticle while watching Blackwall vigorously tie, pull, and shove the knots into the ball of rope. He knew his voice was monotone and not at all as invigorating as the Chieftains tale. It was obvious that he was there to waste time, rather than actually convert.

When the chant ended, he looked at Blackwall to see he still had three feet of rope to work with. "Canticles of Euridition, Book two:"

He smiled as the crowd all groaned as he did was he was told to have it memorized as a boy. He looked over to see the Auger giving him a pleading look, then looking at the rope ball that Blackwall was working on. Why does he look like that? Cullen continued until Blackwall was completed. But kept going for a few more lines to allow the man time to ensure it was ready. Cullen stopped midway through a line and simply retired.

He could feel his voice going raw as it usually takes thirty minutes to get through the first book. He stood there for about forty minutes, reciting the chant to the best of his abilities. Maker, he needed a drink.

The Auger took a step forward and held a hand out to Blackwall. "The knots."

Blackwall stood and passed it off to the Auger. A full two-foot wide ball of rope that was knotted in different places that looked like a snake ball changed hands. Cullen arched a brow and Blackwall rubbed his neck with a pained look at the commander. "Good luck." He said sheepishly and returned to the bench. He turned to Uthreida who was grinning like an idiot.

The Auger looked at the ball with a smile as the Chieftain only looked amused. The Chieftain looked at Cullen. "You realize you have to unravel this too, right?"

Cullen looked at the mess of a ball and puffed his cheeks as he exhaled. "I only need one more knot than you." The Chieftain gave a low chuckle and nodded in respect of the competition.

"Dragon." The Auger held his hand to Uthreida. She stood slowly and approached the mage. "You must recite prose. The Chieftain must undo as many knots as he can during your poem. Do you understand?"

"Aye."

"No," Cullen stated flatly. "She's drunk. She can't possibly-"

"I will fight for myself, Commander" she spoke over him.

"I will recite for her." Cassandra stood, a knowing smirk on her lips as he looked at the Commander.

"I can do it myself," Uthreida stated over the crowd. "This is my hand, I got it."

The Auger looked at her with skepticism. "Are you sure?" He asked softer, ignoring Cullen's complaint of the situation.

Uthreida gave a nod. "Aye. I figured it out." She cleared her throat but swayed drunkenly as she spoke.

The Auger arched a brow. "What did you figure out?"

"This." She said, pointing to the ball. "It's very romantic. And a lesson." She turned to look at the commander. "The more the man speaks, the more knots and dissatisfaction the woman has. And now he's left to figure out how to undo it all. Lesson being: shut the fuck up." She gave a smile at him and lost her balance. He watched her trip over her feet with an arched brow.

The Auger gave a look of mild annoyance. "That's not the entire lesson, but, a good start."

Movarn only chuckled deeply in his chest. "I'm going to enjoy this."

The Auger took a deep breath. "The Dragon has opted to speak for herself."

"Auger" Cullen interrupted.

"Guardian" he stated over him, holding his hand up to stop his speech. "Your cunning, while respected, is not appreciated. I think we can all agree we've had enough of your chant for a night." The crowd gave a loud ruckus of agreeance.

Cullen looked at Cassandra who only shook her head solemnly. It was worth a shot. As a Seeker, she probably had more memorized than he did.

The Auger passed the ball to the Chieftain and looked at Uthreida. "Do you have your prose ready?"

"Is there a requirement on length?"

"No." He said with a smirk. "It may be as long or short as you would like to give the competitors time to unravel the knots. However, the prose must be in full."

She gave a slow nod. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay." She looked at the Chieftain and tried to stand with a straight back, only to lose her balance again. Cullen shook his head at her. The Chieftain gave her a nod to show he was ready. She cleared her throat. "My mother told me" she chanted.

Cullen watched as the Chieftain spun the ball in his hands, looking for the ends of the rope. He was moving slow, and methodical as he surveyed every inch of the ball. He would pull a few strands, and would finally reveal the end of the rope.

Uthreida stopped singing.

The Chieftain smirked. "That was short."

"Well, it's a rowing song, so." Uthreida gave a shrug. "It just repeats over and over again."

The Chieftain looked at the ball, and tucked the end of the rope back into its original hiding spot before tossing the ball to Cullen. Who pouted at the lack of a leg up. He looked at the ball with an arched brow. That is one dense snake ball.

He looked at Uthreida who was smirking viciously at him. He needed to find the end and unravel one before her short song was over. How in the Maker's name was he supposed to do that? He looked at the ball and had no idea what he was even looking at. He shot a dark look at Blackwall then at the ball again. "So, what happens if I can't pull a knot?"

"We do it again." The Auger stated.

"Full turn rotation or he gets the first one, he wins?"

The Chieftain smirked. "Why don't you find out?"

His eyes went from the Chief to Uthreida then rolled. He was doing this for her. For her. Of all people. He took a deep breath and told himself that it was for the Inquisition. That is to help defeat Corypheus. That he had to win this.

Uthreida took a deep breath and he started to look for the end of the rope knowing he wouldn't have as much time as the Chief did. "Early one morning, before the Sun did rise

And the birds sang their sweet song." She sang slowly. Cullen registered that she was offering him more time. Both thankful, and slightly scared that she would end it at any given time, he started to look for the end of the rope. He took a deep breath and used reason to find the end. He rolled the ball in his hands as he looked for it, leaving no rope cord unturned.

She took a deep breath and Cullen paused. Fearful that he had missed his opportunity. "Sir Manningling, Sir Manningling," she sang, giving him more time.

How was he supposed to unravel this thing if he couldn't even get to the ends? And how did the Chief find it so easily? He shot a look at the Chief, wondering he had done something to the ball when he had it. He moved ropes aside to look for it and found none.

He clenched his jaw, knowing he was running out of time. How was he supposed to unravel this rope if-

He stopped. His mind screeching to a halt. He looked at the Auger. The mage looked at him with a question on his lips as Uthreida kept singing, her eyes widening as he didn't move the ball but looked at others.

Cullen gave a heavy sigh. It doesn't matter, right? How to unravel it? They never said.

He sighed in annoyance and placed the ball on the bench where she was sitting a few moments ago. Drawing his sword, he slammed the blade into the ball, cutting it down the middle. Uthreida paused to see what he was doing, only to continue again as if nothing happened. Cullen looked for one knot and unraveled it where the Auger could see. "One." He stated, sheathing his sword. He walked to where Uthreida was standing, feeling the hatred and distrust from the crowd behind him. "Rope and knots are unraveled." He stated taking a bow to the Chieftain. He grabbed Uthreida by the leg and arm, throwing her over both his shoulders as he stood and left. "Inquisition." He shouted, turning his back even as Uthreida moved to get off his back by fighting him. He caught the glimpse of their faces. Both men were smiling, but their eyes were of respect and reverence. Cullen lowered his brows at the leaders as he waited for his men to exit first.

Uthreida stopped moving and he heard her belch a sickening hiccup. He had only seconds to react and was too late as she vomited down the left side of his furs, armor, trousers, and finally boots. She gave a cough. "Sorry." She said weakly. Cullen took a cleansing breath and inhaled the scent of bile and the ale she was drinking earlier. 'That's my wife.' He thought in disgust. 'Maker, take her quickly.' He turned on his heel to follow.

The crowd gave a cacophony of noise as they exited the hall quickly. The Chieftain called for quiet in a booming voice as the door shut behind them. "Get to the cart, now," Cullen ordered as Sera lead the way. He all but threw the woman the back of the empty cart, uncaring of head wounds or sickness. "We need to get to the camp as soon as possible."

The Soldiers confirmed the command and saddled up as quickly as they could. The Soldiers that followed him up the hill jumped in the cart while the others rode. Cullen rode in the front with Cassandra. She looked at him and gave a sick look at him as she snapped the reigns. Cullen lifted a hand to stop her from speaking as the horse was forced to canter even with a cart at night.

Uthreida threw up two more times on the way to camp, her body rejecting the ale that was offered her from the Avvar. He's never wanted to strangle someone more in his life.

XxXxXx

Cullen yawned as he made his way back to his tent. Patrol has been doubled to ensure the Avvar won't attack. The men have been warned they will move out first thing in the morning and will abandon the dragon's skull where it laid. But they did need to get the point of entry into the Mire to gather their supplies and horses that were abandoned at the entry camp. He had enough time to do a basic launder of his clothes to get the smell of vomit off of them. Blackwall, Sera, and Cassandra sat around the fire of camp, sharpening weapons and discussing the day's events. Not in the mood for a conversation, he went to his tent for a few hours of sleep.

He opened the flap and threw his clothes on the cot he claimed earlier. He examined the tent and sneered. There were two cots. One was supposed to be Blackwalls. But instead, held the sleeping slayer. He sneered at the sight. She had removed her armor and laid spread eagle on her cot. Snoring.

He could kill her. Now. He could end this. He turned and opened the flap of the tent and looked at the group that he knew was responsible for this. Without exiting, he stared down at the group that was opposite of the tent and glared at the team. The warriors gave a smirk while Sera only cackled like a mad woman. This is not a honeymoon. He shoved the tent flap closed. Too exhausted to do anything about this tonight.

He looked over at the woman. She wore a green tunic shirt with colorful embroidery around the collar. Because of his position, he could see black, Celtic knot tattoos over her collar bones. The braid in her hair needed to be tended to as it held in the same style, and slept in, for the last few days. Her oversized woolen black trousers ran past her feet. She looked every inch as barbaric as the clan they just left.

And now, they're married.

Symbolically at the very least.

He took a deep breath and sat on his cot. He placed his hands over his face. Sheer exhaustion from the last few days overtook him as he tried to breathe. Makers breath, this is a disaster. How would he write this in a report? Saved dragon slayer from an issued challenge of marriage by the Avvar? Or worse, what if his family finds out? Templar brother marries heathen mage. He ran a hand through his hair knowing the tonics he used had washed out. The curls coming back in full force. Worse day of his life.

Well, retrospectively, the third-worst day of his life.

Cullen rubbed his neck in stress. This is not how he imagined his life. This is not how he imagined this week. Married to some, barbarian. Some zealous, overconfident, heathen with a quick temper and quicker tongue. He grunted at the situation. Not married. Just-

He breathed.

Just forced to work with.

He threw his head back. He's going to have to live this way. People are going to make fun of the situation for the rest of his life. He groaned. He thought of Royoc and Josephine. And frowned. They're going to throw him a 'proper' stag party.

She snorted and rolled in her sleep. Cullen looked over his shoulder at her. He noticed the bruising on her shoulder where the dragon had attacked her earlier today. The yellow and blue that will grow into a deep purple by tomorrow. The deep blue spread like the lightning attack she was hit with. Did she go all night with that injury?

He felt his sneer soften, if only slightly. She can slay dragons. And she was trying to save the men earlier. He can respect that. To a degree. He bit his cheek as he looked at the injury. He can remember being hit with a chain lightning attack while hunting Maleficarum in Kirkwall. He can imagine the pain she must be in. But her helmet had healing. That she wasn't wearing all night. He arched a brow. She carried her injuries well. He took a breath. She was still his soldier. She was still under his command. He leaned over and ruffled through his pack and found the muscle salve. Looking at the jar, he contemplated on giving it to her. Part of him wanted to be sadistic and keep it from her. Let her learn how to fight better and smarter. But, she was his responsibility. A responsibility to the Inquisition.

He grit his teeth, knowing what he had to do.

He leaned back on his cot and placed the jar below her bed.

Her hand flared in fire. Cullen looked up and met her ice blue eyes as she sneered at him. "Get away from me." She whispered. Cullen arched a brow and drained her of her magic. Uthreida made a face of mild pain but looked at her hand in confusion. "So that's what you meant by magical nullification." She looked at him with more grit than she had before. "Get out of my tent."

Cullen set his jaw. He was trying to be nice. "This is my tent. You leave."

"Fine." She tried to sit up, only for her eyes to widen at the moment. She clutched her head and stomach and fell back down on the cot. The effects of the alcohol coming back to bite her. She tried to breathe deeply to settle her stomach. Cullen watched with a smirk as she learned her actions have consequences. She sat up slower, more calculated. She hissed at the pain as he put her weight on her injured shoulder and fell back down on the bed.

This is just getting pathetic. He stood to help her. She rolled on her back, clutching her shoulder, and looking at him ready to fight. He crossed his arms, watching her watching him. He waved a hand to let her rise on her own. She searched him up and down. "Get my pack."

"You get it." He retorted.

Hooking her good arm under her knee, she forced herself to rise. Her facial expressions made an overly dramatic show of how hard she was trying to not vomit again. She finally sat upright and breathed deeply. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, calming her stomach as she did. Cullen could smell the scent of ale and bile on her breath as she tried. He backed off to give her space. And to avoid her dragon breath. She made a show that she could taste it as well. She slowly turned her head and found her pack next to her cot with her stack of armor.

She reached into her pack slowly, pulling out a satchel, and opened it on the bed. Cullen watched as she searched it with her one good arm. She plucked out a dried thistle flower. She snapped off the branch and placed the flower back in the bag. She slowly started to chew on the branch. Cullen arched a brow. That's the same thing Fereldans did when they needed to recover from a hangover. He felt himself smirk. This woman may be from a different land, but she was Fereldan. The fact that she had this shows how often she overindulges. She really was a drunken berserker.

"Why are you smirking?" She whispered, not trying to upset her stomach more and speaking between the twig clinched between her teeth.

Cullen took a seat on his cot. "You're injured."

He saw her roll her shoulder at the mention. "And."

"Here." He leaned forward to hold the jar again, her blue eyes opening more to watch him approach her. He held the muscle salve to her. She watched with tired eyes as he held it out. Slowly, she held her hand out to grab it. "It's muscle salve."

"Shh." She said with closed eyes.

He only smiled more at the idea of making her night worse than what it was. But decided to whisper for her sake. "You don't need a lot. Just a little on your fingers and rub it in." He motioned for her while rubbing his shoulder as if to show her where her own injury was. She gave a slow nod but threw her head back to breathe through the alcohol. "Are you going to be able to ride tomorrow?"

"One way to find out." She whispered.

Cullen tilted his head at her. "Why did you agree to the trial?"

She gave a pained shrug. "As much fun as mass slaughter sounded" she shook her head. "The Thane has already lost so much. I didn't want to take more."

"You're aware what would've happened if you failed?" his tone bordering on disappointment.

"Traditionally" she took a deep breath and held it. Slowly releasing for her stomach as she chewed the twig. "He was supposed to challenge me to the death. He chose to drink. I was not prepared for whatever was in that ale." She snorted. "Never drink with the Avvar." She told herself. "But, I sing better when I drink. So it worked out." She gave a pained smirk to herself.

Cullen grunted. "You are aware of what would've happened if you failed?"

She gave a groan understanding. "I know. I just would've had to bide my time for a wee bit. Escaped." She opened one eye to look at him. "I was really hoping your 'hunting skills' were up to par." She arched a brow at a thought. "Being married though" Cullen cliched his jaw. "Not my first choice."

"We're not married." His tone severed the conversation where it stood.

"Oh, bless you, Mara." She said relieved. "Or, wait" she looked confused but softly shrugged it off. "Bless you." She moved the twig so it sat on the opposite side of her mouth. She closed her eyes. Chewing thoughtfully and breathing through the nausea. "I pity your wife though."

Cullen took offense and let it show on his face. "I don't have a wife."

"Husband then."

Cullen took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm not married."

"Your future spouse then." She shook her head slowly. "Cutting the rope like that. You lack patience." Cullen scoffed, licking his teeth as he looked at her. What would she know of patience? Or his level there of? "You're clever though." She added, adjusting her weight to relieve whatever pain she was in. "I'm sure Shore is smiling somewhere."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you would've preferred Blackwall."

She gave a shameful smile. "That's irrelevant."

"Cute." His tone was scathing.

"Thanks." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her legs. Cullen watched as she tried to call forth magic as she grabbed her shoulder. She pouted when she realized that she was failing at pulling at the Vail. "That's right, you did the thing." She swayed for a moment. "If it's all the same to you, I'm just going to-" she flopped back down on the cot on her good side.

"Really?"

"Shhh"

He rolled his eyes. "Use the salve."

She gave an annoyed groan. Blindly looking for the jar as her eyes were closed. Cullen sucked his teeth. He placed the jar in her hand to use. She did as instructed. Using more than necessary. Her hand went below her shirt. "You mind?" Cullen met her eyes. She had one eye open and pursed lips in his direction. He turned on the cot to give her some privacy. She moaned in appreciation of the salve. She tossed the jar on his cot. "In case you care," she said softer, "I had an eight-minute song prepared."

He arched his brow and leaned to search his pack. "Really." his tone nonchalant.

She gave a soft chuckle. "You're going to have to learn to trust me at some point, Commander. Just as I was prepared to trust you."

He scoffed. "Seemed all for naught," he smirked at his own pun.

"The rope symbolizes marriage. The knots were the difficulties. Cutting the rope like you did, means you'll never listen and just force your way through it." Cullen looked at her from over his shoulder. "You'll never work out the problems," she said softer. She was starting to fall asleep. "Not everything requires a sword. Sometimes, it's just a delicate touch. Speaking. Communication." He arched a brow. Coming from her, the hypocrisy was almost hilarious. But taking the route he did was the delicate approach. She opened one eye to look at him. A smile spread across her face. "I don't think this marriage is going to last."

Cullen groaned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling of the tent. "Go to sleep," he ordered. He placed the small knife by his cot as he laid down, ready for sleep to envelope him as well.

---

A/N: The songs in this part are from Wardruna - Lyfjaberg (Healing Moutain), Perly I Lotry - My Mother Told Me, and Garmarna - Herr Manneling