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.

5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, this story is becoming something even I didn't imagine. So that's fun.

For those of you who have reviewed, favorited, and are following: Thank you! *insert however many heart emojis you feel is appropriate*

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The drawbridge of Sky Hold beckoned the team like a siren to the sea. For within its sound walls lied their home. And a pile of paperwork that Cullen was not looking forward to.

His original team with the Slayer was crossing the bridge with another horse that was picked up to drive the cart to allow Uthreida the opportunity to ride. Cullen looked to his left to see her riding next to him. It was discovered on the trip that she didn't know how to ride a horse. Well, a trained warhorse. She had let it slip that her people didn't have Calvary like her Empire as horses were used for work and travel, not war. She was never properly taught how to ride a horse.

Initially, Cullen had sighed but took the occasion to teach her as they had a four-day journey ahead and seemed like as good as an opportunity as any. The terrain allowed for some interesting training for her. She no longer had to shout at the beast for submission but learned how to ride and trust in…Ragnar, she called it?

Looking at her. She sat with a proper riding posture. She looked over her shoulder to keep an eye on the men that followed. When she looked forward again, she caught his looks. "Aye?"

He looked her over, then returned his eyes to the gate. Cassandra's party would have returned the day before them as his team had to detour back to the entrance camp to gather the horses and carts.

His hands tighten in the reigns. He breathed deep and tried to keep a cool head even if a headache was pressing on him. The rumor would've gotten out by now, he was sure. He tried not to think of how Royoc would smugly smile at him or how Josephine would ask the inevitable, 'would you like time off for a proper honeymoon. I do know a few salons that would accept in short notice.'

As they crossed the gatehouse, his eyes squinted as he spotted Sera, Bull, and Dorian loitering on the base steps of the stairs that lead into the courtyard proper. The elf jumped from her position and smiled. Here we go. "Oi, throw yer heads back and laugh." On command, the other two males did as instructed as she cackled while pointing a finger at the Commander.

He arched an unamused brow. So it begins.

"I'll take Sera," Uthreida stated, leaning on her horse towards him. "If you can take Dorian, distract Bull from the front, I can bring him down from the rear." Cullen looked her over to see a dark grin on her face. Cullen felt himself smirk and feel amused as she was just as offended as he was. "Fine, I can use my axe to hook his horn, make him lose balance" she tilted away from him to show Bull's probable actions "And you can use the flat of your blade on his ribs."

Cullen rubbed his chin in thought. "Sera has distance."

"So do I." She jutted her thumb behind her back to indicate her bow. "We jump down, aye, you lead" she held her hands up to show both in a line "I jump out behind your shield for arrows" her second hand moving on either side of the front for visual reference. "Engage contact, you strife right. Dorian will be easy, one hit with your pommel and he's out." Cullen smiled at the idea of this invasion. "You'll have to put your shield up again, take one or two hits from Bull for me to get set up. Hook his horn, bring him down."

He gave an amused 'hm' as his eyes went up to the courtyard. What are the tertiary actions? The Chargers. The Chargers would be difficult, but the stairway would reduce their numbers. He looked her over and gave a one-sided smile. "As much as I would love to revel in this, it does become a situation where we could protest too much. Making it an easy and obvious target for them to use later for their jeering."

"So you do nothing to those who offend your honor?" She asked with a smile. Not of blood lust but of playful intrigue.

He tilted his head at her with a grin. "I haven't punched you in the face yet, have I?" She had the good humor to laugh it off. "Besides, it has nothing to do with honor. It's about being professional. They're just having fun. At our expense. Let it go."

She made an amused expression of irritation. "At the very least, shall we dismount while smiling wickedly at them at the same time?" She gave a smile of promised malice as she looked at him. He could see how psychological warfare would work in their favor.

He licked his lips and mimicked her smile. "Shall we, dear?"

"Three," She said, turning her attention back to the group.

"Two," he said, throwing his leg over his saddle harness to dismount.

"One." She said. Cullen looked at the group as his boots hit the ground and smiled at them. Their faces of humor turning more frightened as their eyes looked between the two of them.

"Oh, shite," Sera called. "Book it, they workin' together now." Cullen watched her take the stairs two at a time as she fled the scene. Dorian trying his best to hide behind Bull and follow Sera. Bull stood there, his one brow raised in confidence as the other two cohorts ditched him. Bull crossed his arms and waited for them to attack.

Cullen clicked his tongue twice and moved Cadence so she blocked the line of sight between Bull and the Slayer, ending the little game, and heading towards the stables. He used his horse to mask his physical reaction of chuckling to himself as he passed.

"Come on, Ragnar." He heard the shoes of the Fereldan horse follow after him. Quickly regaining his composure, and a serious expression on his face, he placed Cadence in the stables. Uthreida took the empty stall next to him. He looked and noticed Blackwall watching them with an amused expression but said nothing as he went back to whittling something.

He was in the middle of removing the saddle from Cadence when a runner came to him. "Commander." Cullen turned to see a young elven man give the salute. "Now that you have returned, the Inquisitor has requested a war meeting."

Cullen lowered his brows. "I just got back. I haven't had time to review any reports." The young man looked flustered for a moment. "Don't bother" he said over a sigh. "I'll be on my way." He looked over at Blackwall. "Is there a hand nearby?" he called to the Warden.

"I'll take care of it," Uthreida said as she patted her horse's muzzle.

He arched a skeptical brow. "You don't even know how to ride a horse, let alone-"

"Don't." She warned playfully, producing some oats for her horse.

He heard Blackwall give a grunt as he stood. "The boy had to run a quick errand for Dennet. He'll be back in a few minutes. I can offload Cadence." The Warden lifted a hand to the Pale Warm Blood who blew and pointed her ears forward. Blackwall gave a soft pat to her neck as he entered the stall.

Cullen sighed. The Warden shouldn't be doing this, but he was out of options at the moment. "Thank you. I'll have my runner fetch my saddlebags when I can."

"No worries, Commander." He gave a grunt as he bent low to undo the buckles of the saddle.

Cullen crossed the courtyard again and was met up with Cassandra who seemed to be waiting for him on the stairs to the main hall. She arched a single brow at him as he climbed. "How was your journey?" she asked when he met up with her.

Cullen looked at her with an amused expression as they entered the hall. "Better than the going, I'll admit." He looked her over and saw the smirk that she was trying to hold back. "Don't," he warned.

Her foiled smirk becoming a smile. "I would never, Commander. The others, though," she let the sentence hang. "How do you intend to deal with this?"

He gave a half shrug as they turned into Josephine's office. "I have no idea."

She chuffed. "I'm surprised punching isn't your first option. It would be mine."

He gave a low chuckle at the idea. "It was, but" he shook his head.

He could feel her calculated eyes on him. "Is the wife growing on you?"

He looked at her in wide-eyed betrayal. "Makers Breath, no." he shook his head. "No." He took a deep breath. "I'll just take it on the chin for now, and when they realize it doesn't bother me, they'll eventually drop it."

She stopped midstride to look at him. One brow raised. "You don't know nobles very well, I take it?"

Cullen paused, realizing just how accurate his imagination was. He ran his hands over his face to get the right state of mind before entering the war room. He looked at Cassandra, crossing his arms. "What's your advice?"

A one-sided grin appeared on her face. "I never had this sort of problem." She shook her head slowly at him. "I don't know what to advise. Do" she paused, clenching her jaw, "Do what you think is best, Commander."

Cullen arched a brow at the lack of a response. He rubbed his neck in stress. "I suppose, to let the rumor run its course,"

"It's not a rumor."

He frowned, then sighed. "The best method is to pretend like it never happened?" he asked, gauging her response like a child. She arched a brow. He looked away from her eyes. "Then, pretend like it doesn't bother me, because neither of us believes we're married to the other. That said, let it run its course. It'll die on its own."

She gave a solemn nod. "So be it then."

"So be it." He said, turning to the door. He gave a hard breath and begged the Maker to preserve him. He pushed the door open to see Royoc on this side of the table with Liliana and Josephine on the other. The three gave varying smiles as he approached. "Good afternoon." He nodded to the room as he took his spot on the other side of the table.

Liliana smirked. "When shall we move things from the Slayers room into your quarters, Commander?"

"And why would you do that?" his tone neutral as he read over some of the reports that were in his stack.

The Spymaster gave a soft titter and a knowing look at the Public Liaison. "Perhaps," Josephine insisted, "we can arrange for the two of you to have some time off? After the proper ceremonies, of course."

"Who?" he asked casually, rereading the report in front of him, demanding the heat on his neck to dissipate.

"You and the Slayer, of course."

Cullen shot her a dubious look. "We just got back. And I'm sure I have a million things to do. Inquisitor, my apologies for being out of the office for the last week and a half, but it shouldn't take me very long to catch up. I can assure you that the dragon in the Fallow Mire has been dealt with and the Avvar are well on their way to leaving Fereldan with the weapons that were promised. Why are you smiling like that?" His tone clipped that would usually be reserved for an incompetent lieutenant.

"You're an honest man now, huh?" Inquisitor Royoc smiled, showing all of his teeth.

Cullen arched a bored brow and bit down the urge to yell at him and force him to fall in line. "I generally aim to be an honest person. I've learned that transparency is the better practice. Why do you ask?"

"Cullen" Liliana spoke up, her tone both playful and demanding. His look spoke volumes of how he was already done with this conversation as Cassandra did her best to hide her smile. "We just wanted to say thank you for ensuring that the Dragon Slayer stayed in the possession of the Inquisition."

Cullen blinked twice at her slowly. "Here are the reports from the Fallow Mire." He said. Passing the roll of vellum to the Inquisitor for review.

XxXxXxXx

Uthreida watched the Commander saunter off to attend his meeting leaving her and Blackwall alone in the stables. Watched and listened to the dark Warden even as she moved to remove the saddle and blankets from Ragnar. She found his silence more pleasant than the silence of others. His breathing was rhythmic to her. A steady roll.

"How was your trip?" He asked as if to pass the time.

She felt the annoying expression grow on her face at the implied question of 'how is your husband these days.' She took a steady breath, sweeping the sweat off of Ragnar. "Fine. Same trip as yours, only a day behind."

She could hear from nodding from the loose metal on his gambeson. "Glad to hear it." He exited his stall with saddle and bags. She watched with an amused brow as he was able to carry the full weight of it alone and place it gently on the wall. She hid her eyes as he walked past her to the well. Uthreida watched him as he walked, slowing her sweep of Ragnar. Her mind went back to the Avvar tribe. He had volunteered to challenge for her hand. Why couldn't she have 'married' him? He was kinder than the Commander. And not every other sentence was one of superiority or reminding her of her place. Even during the lessons of horse riding, Cullen still managed to sneak in a few 'barbarians'. And that stupid smirk.

Blackwall returned to the stall, the bucket of water placed on the straw floor, and removed his gloves. "What do you think?"

Uthreida stopped to look at him from between the stalls and horses. That was an open-ended question. "About?" He placed the hard brush in the bucket, then stood slowly to look at her, a knowing look on his face as if the conversation was obvious. She took a deep breath. Her eyes going back to where the Commander had walked off a few minutes ago. He said to let it go. He wasn't going to be offended by it. If he's not, why should she? She decided to play the coy fool. "About?"

He gave a chuckle and a shake of his head in shame. Placing the wet brush on the back of the white horse as he scrubbed the sweat off her. "You know what I mean."

She looked away. Finding a readily excuse to wipe the dirt and mud from Ragnar's front hooves. "Not sure that I do." The horse gave a blow as if he was also annoyed at the conversation and her lack to have it. She arched a brow at Ragnar, silently begging him to keep quiet about it.

Blackwall gave a sigh as if he was ready to let it go as well. "I'll admit, that was definitely the most, peculiar, wedding I've ever been to. And to be quite honest, I'm not sure if I was the best man or the maid of honor."

She turned to look at him only to see the wood of the stall. "I'm not sure I understand what either of those phrases means."

He made a move that she didn't see. "Uh, let's see. Best Man is chosen by the groom to protect him, and maid of honor is chosen by the bride to protect her."

"From?" she asked with a quirked brow. These aren't usually done in Skyrim, and she's never heard of it before.

He made a vocal sound of his own confusion then laughed it off. "I wouldn't know, m'lady. Would-be suitors, I guess."

Uthreida found herself smirking as she stood. She turned to look at the Warden with a smile. "Suitors?"

He shrugged, placing the brush back into the bucket. "I imagine."

She canted her head at him. There weren't a lot of memories she remembered from the Mire, but that one stuck out. And throwing up over the Commander's shoulders. "Like a certain Warden accepting a certain challenge."

She watched as his neutral face turned into a smile, his eyes glazing over as if in a memory. He shot her a look of guilt only to look away again at the horse. Still smiling, still washing away the sweat from the horse. "Something like that."

She gave a knowing 'hm' as she turned back to Ragnar, working on his rear hooves to clear them of the mud. "If you don't mind my asking," she started with a smile, feeling the heat in her core rise to her neck. She wasn't supposed to ask, she knew, but still wanted the answer. She wanted to know his reasoning or his lie. "Why did you challenge the Thane?"

He was silent, even as she could hear him still working on the horse. "Seemed like the right thing to do." She could hear the smile on his face as he spoke.

"The right thing?" she asked softer, questioning his honor or his intentions.

"Yes." He took a deep breath. "You were, very, drunk. It uh, didn't seem right for the Chief to take you like that." Uthreida felt a smile curl around her lips as she removed the mud from Ragnar's hooves. "Besides, the Commander made a good point. The Inquisition needs you. And when he faltered, I stood up." He cleared his throat as if that was the end of the story.

Uthreida reviewed his words. "It was very noble what you did." She said finally, fighting the blush on her neck. Knowing Ragnar was a very convenient prop to hide her face from him.

He made a sound of humility and also shame. "Wasn't, entirely, noble. M'lady." He said softer as if he didn't want her to hear the truth but raised the question of why he said it.

Uthreida bit her lip, failing at biting back the smile on her face. She stood slowly to move to the other side of Ragnar. "Whatever your intentions, I'm sure you would've been just as noble and honorable as you are in everything else." She lowered her voice to make her husky point. She scratched Ragnar's chin as she moved, watching him fluster for a moment from the corner of her eye. He gave a depreciating chuckle from behind the horse to hide his face. "You did a great job on those knots, by the way." She commented. "Almost like you had experience with them."

He paused before speaking. His tone carrying a smile. "I was following your instructions, m'lady. Thusly, your experience with knots was invaluable."

Uthreida shrugged off his innuendo of a comment. "Aye, but as drunk as I was, you were the one making them tight. Making sure they held fast." She licked her teeth as she moved to the other side of Ragnar. "And if memory serves, they were not all mine."

He gave a soft 'hm' as they both hid from one another during their tete a tete. Realizing where she was going on the conversation. "I've had to tie up some things. From time to time." He cleared his throat and Uthreida backed off.

He was silent for a time, allowing them both to catch their breath from her comments and question what was wrong with her. Blatant flirtation with the Warden. She could at least be more subtle. The full heat of the conversation making her breathe deeper at their game and try in vain to remove the smile off her face. She had finished Ragnar's last hoof when he spoke again.

"So, erm," He asked from his stable, "Have you and the Commander talked it out?"

"What?"

"This whole, marriage, bit."

She took a deep breath and stood on the half wall that separated them. Waiting for him to look at her. When his blue eyes met hers, she could only smile. "We agreed that the ceremony did not align with either one of our cultures. We are, in fact, not married. Why?" she tilted her head playfully at the warrior. "You don't like married women?"

He gave a quick laugh. He looked at her for a moment before standing to meet her at the wall. "That's about half of it." His voice was lower as if from his chest. He looked away, smiling. "Creates a lot of, unnecessary headaches."

She leaned in closer with a wide smile as she looked into his eyes. "Aw, you poor lamb. You must suffer from so many headaches then."

She watched the blush creep up his neck and onto his ears as he looked away from her with a closed liped grin. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, m'lady."

Oh, he knows. Uthreida leaned in closer. "Strong, strapping man like you walks into any village" she smirked, "in Warden Armor." She let her eyes drag over his chest and gave a lustful brow. When she looked into his eyes, to see him return the same look. "It's amazing there's no line I have to cut my way through just to have these little conversations with you."

He looked away, smiling, and clearing his throat. "Well, with all those compliments, I assume you have something large and heavy that needs to be moved?"

Uthreida only smiled as he chuckled to himself. She waited until he had stopped laughing before leaning against the wall to be closer to him. "It's actually quite small," she said softly, watching his eyes grow softer, "And fragile." She let her eyes drop to his thick lower lip as she spoke. "But I'm sure your capable hands will know what to do with it."

She watched as his eyes were drawn to her lips, licking his own, and fighting a lustful smile. The implication of her heart or goatsbeard in his hands made him breathe unevenly. When his eyes met hers, she felt her core grow hotter at the look of desire. She tilted her head in an invitation to him. Blackwall looked away, taking a deep, cooling breath. He took a step back and smiled. "You're dangerous." He said to himself. He turned, moving to finish his work on the horse.

"So I have been told." Uthreida kept her eyes on his back. His wide, most likely muscled back. Hardened muscles crafted over years of training and fighting covered in the soft velvet of skin. She wondered how delicate his skin was, and how long her scratch marks would remain. Her eyes dropped lower to his waist. Though the brown gambeson he wore hid his waist, she could imagine his proportions. Given his age and how his coat fit, she could assume he had a healthy layer of fat around his midsection as she did. Between their heavy armor, eating habits, traveling, and training, he was more swollen than cut.

He stopped walking, and given the tilt of his hips, he was looking at her over his shoulder. Uthreida met his gaze with a small smirk on her face. Still settled on the half wall between them. A smile revealed beneath his beard, and a compulsion forced him to turn around to meet her at the wall again given his gait. "Color me intrigued," he stated lowly, "But now I find myself curious" he placed a hand on the wall between them. "What does a marriage ceremony look like where you're from?"

She tilted her head playfully. "Why do you ask?"

"Just making conversation." He tried for a neutral shrug, but the playful smirk on his face was betraying him.

"Well," she stood straight, "There's usually a period of courtship. When one is ready, they purchase rings and an Amulet of Mara. The Goddess of Marriage and home. You must wear the amulet and present yourself to the one you wish to marry. The thing is, the amulet is quite large, so it requires a low collar." she used her hand to indicate her chest. Though covered in her ebony armor, his eyes followed her hand in the allowed invitation. She watched his eyes follow, lower to her sternum. It was only when she flicked her wrist away, did he look back into her eyes. "If the proposition is accepted, they go to the temple of Mara, exchange vows and rings, and are wed. Best man and maid of honor not required."

He licked his lips, looking at her. "I see."

"And your culture?"

"Why do you ask?" he teased in the same tone she had asked.

"So I know what to look forward to." Her confident smile causing him to do the same.

He chuffed but bobbed his head, "Typically, it's about the same. Only, officiated by a Mother under the sight of the Maker. Best men and maids of honor are optional." He looked away from her for a moment. "No dowry or anything?"

"Well, that depends." She leaned against the wall. "Do you intend to court me, or propose marriage without even knowing me?" The look of desire in his eyes suggested the latter. "Because if you took me outright, I do have the right to issue a challenge of gold or deed."

He smiled softly. "I'm almost afraid to know what your deed would be, Dragonslayer." He moved to stand to her left, but rested his arms on the wall. "What would a man have to do to prove himself to you?"

Uthreida caught the husk in his voice when he spoke and fought the urge to shiver at it. His blue eyes watching her with curiosity and promised demise. Any playful thoughts she had died on her lips under his lustful blue eyes. She had to look away to be lost in his eyes. She took a breath. "One dragon."

He arched a skeptical brow. "One?"

"At my side."

He leaned back, still smiling at the prospect. "I don't think I can deliver that, m'lady. Dragons are, fascinating, beautiful creatures."

She smirked, tilting her head with him. "Don't confuse my title with my thoughts, Blackwall, I entirely agree. It's not the valor I'm after."

"Then why would you suggest it?"

"To see if they would."

He arched a brow. "You would lead men to their death just to see if they would stand in the fire with you?"

She moved to rest her arms and upper body against the wall. Allowing herself to appear smaller than him as she spoke. "I do not need a man who will cower behind me, but rather one that will stand beside me. Preferably, one that holds the same reverence that I do."

She watched him process it with a smirk. "I can respect that."

"But" she leaned up taking a deep breath, "If such a deed frightens you, I guess we'll have to take the route of courtship."

He smirked, taking the position she abandoned to appear smaller than her. "And to think, I was just getting used to your subtext. It's throwing me off that you're being so direct today."

"You were taking too long."

He looked playfully disappointed at her. "Patience." His tone growled a lustful warning as if it was one he had issued several times. Her core tightened at his wanted dominance over her.

Uthreida waved a vague hand, smirking like it didn't affect her. "I know what I want."

"Do you?"

She looked at him with lustful determination. She mimiced his posture on the wall and arched a brow. "Aye."

"And what if the thing you want is- wait, hang on." She tittered at his fluster of unable to make the words he wanted to fit the area of the conversation. He looked ahead with red ears and a smirk on his face. "What if the thing you want, has a past?"

Uthreida noticed the change in his tone. It was playful but laced deep within was a true question. She noticed his shoulders arched slightly at the mention of it. His blue eyes never quite looking at her fully at the question. He had a past. A dark secret. Uthreida smiled, as he didn't know her past either. "Then I would say that the things that I want obviously doesn't know me very well." His gaze met hers, searching. A look of mild confusion replaced any thought of lust. "So we should take the courtship route."

He matched her smile but looked away first. He bit his lip, thinking over all the pros and cons of the situation that laid before him. Uthreida kept her expression, a small smirk as she watched him think in silence. When he looked at her, his eyes were searching hers in mirth. Then desire as the thoughts became ideas. She watched his breathing become shallower as he looked only at her. His eyes dropped to her lips and she felt the warmth in her stomach as his blue eyes took all of her in. It was getting harder to breathe under his gaze and hold her position without blushing like an adolescent child. By the Nine, she wanted to touch him but didn't want to scare him either. His pink tongue danced along his lower lip as he looked at her. She was losing his game but was too stubborn to move and needed his permission. "Move, Blackwall." She warned lowly, making her position known to him. "Or I'm going to get a bucket of water."

He arched a brow, smirking at her tone. "Oh?"

"For the horse."

"Ah. Right. " he looked away, smiling. He pushed his lower half from the wall as he looked at the said horses that they had abandoned for their conversations. He looked at her again. He shook his head admonished but took the step she wanted. He stood before her as she was still resting on the wall. Lower to him, and looking up to see the soft blue eyes taking her in. Uthreida stood slowly, allowing only the wall to stand between them as she took in his features and expression of desire with an arched brow and boyish smirk. "You are unlike any woman I've ever met." He stated softly. He slowly lifted a hand to catch her chin to look at him properly. She looked him over, watching his eyes drop to her lips and feeling herself breathing deeply at his scent before-

"Ahem"

Both warriors took a step back, dropped their heads, and smiled at the prospect of being caught. Blackwall looked while she was rubbing her neck at the embarrassment. "Master Dennet." He stated, clearing his throat. They looked at one another with a guilty grin before looking away again.

"I would ask that such lessons not be taught to the horses. I'm sure the gelding doesn't need it, Miss." He stated with a dead tone as he approached the two.

"Aye, Master Dennet." She could feel the horse master's eyes shift between the two and shook his head.

"I'll take care of the horses, Miss."

"I don't min-"

"I'll. Take care of it." The master gave a final tone, but she could feel the wrath was mostly on Blackwall.

Uthreida gave a nod. "Then, I'll just, gather my things then." She emptied her saddlebags into her pack. She looked over her shoulder to see Blackwall hoisting the commander saddlebags over his shoulder. He stole a look at her and smirked. Uthreida looked away first, still feeling the heat from their broken conversation.

Blackwall met her a few feet from the stables with a guilty smirk. He held his hand to the staircase to walk with her. Uthreida looked him over. "I thought the Commander was going to send a runner for his bags."

"I need an excuse to not be in the stables right now. Humor me." He led her to the stairs but let her walk up to them first. Either as a gentleman or get a show, she wasn't sure. With her armor and tassets, it probably wasn't for general leering. Or, if it was, he was disappointed right now. She looked over her shoulder to see him looking at his feet and checking the stairs, the red still on his ears.

She focused on the stairs herself, letting the memory of his almost touch, almost breathing, almost having what she wanted to fill her core with heat. He approached from behind carrying the bags over one shoulder. She looked over her shoulder to see his eyes trained on her hips. The tassets extenuating her natural sway as she walked. He noticed her eyes and looked away. A new grin on his face. She pushed the south door open to the Commander's office and entered.

Looking around, not much has changed in the week and a half they were gone. The stack of correspondence had grown, but nothing out of the ordinary. Blackwall placed the bags on the chair that was weighed down with books and pieces of parchment. She arched an annoyed brow. The man needed a steward.

Blackwall looked at her and offered a hand to the north door. He was going to escort her to her room. She arched a brow with a smirk, following his gesture. He pushed the door open for her and followed behind her. When she passed, he tried to take the pack from her back. "It's alright, I got it."

"Please, you've had a long trip."

"It's quite alright."

He shot a look to the courtyard below them then at her. "Give me a reason to follow you."

She stopped to look at him. She licked her teeth for a moment as she looked him over. "You already have a reason." The husk in her voice made him smirk. He wanted more privacy to try again. Her quarters. He looked away guilty but smiled when he tilted his head at her, his hand still outstretched for the pack.

She had no reason to deny him. She slipped off the pack from her back and passed it to him. He slung it over one shoulder, letting her direct where they went now. Letting her show him where he could find her later.

They walked side by side across the ramparts in silence, taking in the presence of the other as they moved. To all outsiders, he was just helping her by acting as a mule rather than him just helplessly following her. Uthreida would admit that her imagination started to work as to what his next move would be. How she would counter and where she would allow him to win. But the fact remained, today, now, was not the best time to let him into her room. She has spent the last week on the road without a proper bath and he was kind not to say anything about her odor. Her hair would need work and she was just overall in need of personal pampering.

As they approached her room on the other side of the garden, she fished the key from the pack. She stopped at the door and turned to him. She held her hand open for the pack. She watched his eyes move to her hand, then her eyes. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He wanted to be playful. To hold it against her as he bartered for a kiss. But instead, slung it from his shoulder, and passed her the pack back. "Thank you, Blackwall."

"M'lady" he gave a bow of his head.

She gave a sigh. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

His eyes shot down to her junction with an arched brow. "Is there something I should know?" his tone both heady and playful.

Uthreida rolled her eyes, biting her lip at his game. "No." she finished with a smile at his charm. "It's not the, uh, physicality, I have the issue with. Being a lady implies that I should be-"

"Respected?" He asked with an arched brow. Uthreida tried to look annoyed at the interruption but found that it fell short as she was also smiling at him. "Admired?" he took a daring step towards her, holding her against himself and the door behind her. "Honorable?" he took another step, their chests touching and his eyes glazed over with wanton need as he gazed into her. Her breath was short as she took in the scent of his life. Hay, smoke, wood, and pine needles filled her mind. The sent was almost enough to make her eyes roll back. She felt her stomach drop, tighten, and enflame. But looking up at him, she smirked.

"Blackwall," she said softly, forcing herself to look away from his lips, "If I open this door, I can't promise that I will be as honorable as you think I am." She gave a blushing smile at the open invitation for him. "But I will warn you, it's been over a week since I've had a proper bath." She gave a pained expression. "Choice is yours."

He only chuffed, taking the key gently from her hand and placing it in the lock. "I had every intention of letting you recover from the road, m'lady." His voice was deep, thick, and carried a promise that she wanted to see. He turned the key and looked deeply into her eyes and she forgot how to breathe. "Until next time." He flashed a smile and left her to the garden.

Uthreida watched him walk away. He could've-

But he didn't.

She wanted –

But-

She felt herself smile at the feigned indecision he just made. Watching him, and his hips, move away from her. She arched a brow. He was an honorable warrior who-

He looked over his shoulder and caught her staring at him. She quickly averted her gaze, feeling the heat of getting caught rise up on her neck. She heard his low rumble of a chuckle as he kept walking. She entered her room and closed the door with her back. She took a deep breath staring at the ceiling of her room. Dibolla, protect her.

She threw her pack on the bed and wanted so desperately to flop onto it. Instead, she started the process of removing her armor piece by piece. When she got to the lower portion, she used the chair from the desk and started to remove her boots. Her eye caught her makeshift altar to the gods. The Hourglass that she had found in the library. She chose it to represent Akatosh. She lowered her brows.

Something was off about the hourglass.

She looked at the altar again. The droplets where the wax had fallen from the candles didn't align with where they should fall. Her alter had been tampered with.

She opened the locked drawer on her desk and pulled out the additional gold, gems, jewels, and priest mask that were weighing her down. She searched her pack for her journal and found it missing. She groaned. She had taken an inventory before the journey. She left it on the damn cliff. And now, she didn't have a way to show or inventory. Thankful that she brought the Elder scroll with her into the Mire to protect it.

She looked at the room again. Someone has either cleaned her room or searched it. While she had nothing to hide, she did have things worth stealing. And there's always Septims with someone's name on them.

She needed a new lock.

A master Skyrim lock.

XxXxXxXx

After a proper bath, a proper meal, proper rest, and proper training, Uthreida made her way into the Library. She was planning on how to explain this to Dorian. While not the official librarian of the Inquisition books, he was still as authoritative as the actual keeper of the tomes.

Uthreida took a deep breath as she went up the stairs, trying to calm her nerves. She enjoyed conversations with the necromancer but found that he gets carried away quite easily. He could make simple conversations a myriad of centuries of magical theory and application in areas she didn't even know existed. She didn't know if he saw her as a student or was just trying the long way of getting rid of her. Either way, she did come to respect and admire the mage for his aptitude and impeccable knowledge of arcana. The mages in Winterhold would dare not to have a conversation with him. When she gets back, she should look into inviting Dorian to the College for a few lectures. Though, she could already see him complaining the whole time about the cold.

Holding the two ruined books in her hands, she took a breath and rounded the corner. Her eyes found the Imperial in moments as he was scanning books on the shelf. He seemed intrigued by what he was doing and she didn't want to interrupt, but, it did need to come to light. "Excuse me," Uthreida said softly.

Dorian turned to look at her, a smile slowly growing into a joke. "Well, if it isn't the blushing bride." She fought the urge to both groan and roll her eyes at the concepts. "Given the fact you can walk up the stairs should say something about the husband, I dare say."

She sighed. "Alright," Uthreida slapped the books against her thigh. "Get it out of your system."

"My system" he placed his hand theatrically across his heart, "no-no, dear girl. His system. I heard that he actually smiled today. Smiled. In the rings." He looked at her with a devilish smirk. "You sure do work wonders, Slayer."

She arched an amused brow with a small smile. "I know. I've been known to tame a few beasts."

"Really" he smiled more, holding his chin up with a hand. "Do tell."

"I'd rather not." She said with a smile and a cricked nose.

"Oh, you're no fun." He looked at her hands at the books. "What have you got there?"

She gave a heavy sigh and produced two books that were damaged. "I'm sorry. The rain leaked into my pack and, well, these got destroyed. I'm sorry Dorian."

She passed them to him and watched the judging look that crossed his features as he leafed through them. "You should take better care of these."

"I know."

"They're not cheap."

"I know."

"They were a donation."

"I know. I'm so sorry." She scrunched her face in a pained apology for the mage.

He gave a huff but sighed. "Twelve royals, please."

Her look of apology turned pitiful. "I…haven't been paid yet."

"We'll create a tab then. Marcus." He called. The elven mage a few bookshelves down arched an annoyed brow. Uthreida got the feeling that wasn't his name. Dorian waived the books but threw them on the table next to him. "Right."

Uthreida saw his posture move into a more relaxed state as he looked her over. "So, are you going to teach me time magic today?"

Dorian gave a loud, long, forced laugh before taking a breath. "No."

"Come on." She followed him whining as he walked. "I promise to use it for good."

He gave a sigh and went about his business. "There's a lot of intricate details that you're not ready for."

She could almost feel the dragon blood in her veins pop in anger and frustration at him as she smiled. "Try me."

He waved a finger at her as he continued to peruse the shelves. "Now now. No goading on this."

She rolled her head back. "Fine. But I do have one question."

He gave a sigh and turned to look at her. Expecting her to ask some asinine questions to get him to open up more. Uthreida looked out the window to try and figure out how to put this. "In Redcliff, when you came back, was there a time wound?"

He snorted in disbelief. "A what?"

"A wound. In time." He arched a skeptical brow at the woman with a smirk to match. She sighed. "When time breaks, it leaves a wound. Usually, from what I've seen, like a shimmer in the area it occurred. A um" she waved her fingers as she had seen at the Throat. "Like a fluctuation of the space that had been tampered in time."

He lowered his brows at her. "Not that I recall." His tone carrying more questions than he was willing to ask. "You've seen time magic?"

She moved her eyes to remembered watching Felldie the Old use the elder scroll to send Alduin forward, but that's the only time she saw time magic. "Kind of. Not directly. I think." He crossed his arms as he looked at her. His eyes demanding she give a full answer. "Where I'm from, time magic is considered heresy. Highly frowned upon as it causes more problems for the people. Not to mention the timelines and the convergence."

He gave a full smile. "I feel like we should sit down for this." He offered her a seat in his usual alcove as he took the high back chair. "So your people have already mastered time magic?"

"No." she gave a smile. "As I said, it's heresy in Tamriel. It invalidates the gods. Forcing the change creates more chances that were either already set in place by the gods, or creates more chaos for the people."

He hummed with lowered brows. "If it's heresy, why do you want to learn it?"

She shrugged. "I think it's neat. I mean, theoretical, not application."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over his knee. "How so?"

She leaned back in her chair with a smile. "You tell me." Trying in vain to get him to talk.

He waggled a finger at her again. 'Now, we both know you're from a different land. What's to stop you from using the information I have as a weapon?"

"Because others have already used it as a weapon in my land. And we have felt the effects of it even today."

He curled his lip at the idea. "Alright?" He rested his head in a fist as he looked at her with a smirk. He wanted the story or her idea of the theory.

Uthreida smiled at the man. "Would you like to hear a cautionary tale?"

"Sure." He waved a hand as if to hear a good debate between two puff shirts. "Can't think of a better one than the one I witnessed, but go for it."

She smiled at his flagrant disregard but was willing. "During the Dawn era, when the Alessian order was trying to separate the Elven gods from the mortal gods, they demanded at the elven god of time be made into a mortal male. This change in the beliefs caused the Elven god Arueil to break into the human Akatosh. Both still held as the dragon of time. This breaking causes what is known as a 'dragon break' or a break in time. During the thousand years, everything was recorded. But when all the timelines converged, all of the reports counteracted with the recordings."

He ran a hand over his mustache as he tried to follow. "Meaning?"

"For example, in one timeline, this book" she pulli a random book from the shelf, "was never written. In one timeline, it was written. In one timeline, it was destroyed. All three outcomes are true, but the one remaining was the physical truth. It's the same for larger scales as well. In some reports, the armies of nations moved into one territory. It was either destroyed, victorious, or never moved. But the reports from that time indicate the death tolls showing the army did move but the historical records also showed that they were never invaded. Does that make sense?"

"So all rivers leading back to the ocean." He said with a smirk.

She shook her head slowly. "Not rivers. Forces."

"Forces? Like 'the Makers plan will see you through'?"

"Yes and no."

"Oh, that's my favorite answer." He smiled gleefully.

She met his smile but found to explain required a deeper understanding of the world. A dragon's perspective. "All things in the world, all life, all matter, all things, have a place. A purpose. They have a will and a force. It is within the universal force that it finds peace. It's when gods or mortals demand that thing, life, or matter should have a different place, a different purpose, that chaos ensues. But the gods know that mortals will do anything to keep, preserve, or destroy so multiple lines, or times, are created to protect the world."

"You're starting to sound a little Qun, but I'll take it."

Uthreida sighed. She has learned that being named Qunari is the same as being a leper. "Do you believe that time moves like a river?"

He tilted his head with a smirk. "Sure." He said. His expression not revealing what his actual thoughts on the matter were.

Uthreida saw his mask and smiled. "To us, you can make as many dams as you like. You can redirect the rivers as many times as you need. But mortal engineering is always fallible to the gods. The dam will break, and the water will simply run the course that it was intended to. With the god's contingency plans."

"Let's say you're successful. In redirecting the river. Then what?"

She shrugged. "The natural ravine or gorge is still there. The intended timeline is still there. Just because you changed it once, doesn't mean it will work every time. Maybe the gods allowed the change, once. And only once. But that change from the original plan crates the time wound."

Dorian took a breath as he looked out the window for a moment. His hand to his mustache in thought. "If what you're saying is true. Then, Alexius and I stole time from a possible future to give Felix a few more years."

Uthreida looked at her hands. Given his posture and tone, he did this for a loved one. She didn't know that. That's why he didn't want to talk about it. "I suppose." She said softer, only now realizing just how offended he must be.

Dorian remained. Looking out the window, drawing and circling his mustache in thought. She took a breath and was ready to apologize for trying to have this conversation with him before. "That would mean," He said dreamily, "That would mean the Maker knew it would happen. That Corypheus would win. That that future could happen."

Uthreida gave a slow nod. "The Maker would have had to make contingency to ensure order could be sewn from the chaos."

He gave a small hump. "The Inquisitor." He offered softly.

"Perhaps." She kept her voice low as he did his. "But, going forward and back as you did, it's only one possibility in a multitude of decisions. By your coming back and not converging, allows the decision of today to affect the cause the dawn of tomorrow." She chewed her lip. "Maybe that's why there isn't a time wound. Time wasn't broken, bent maybe. But merely allowed Mortals to see into the mind of the Gods."

He gave a slow nod. "Perhaps." He gave a flippant smirk at her. "I've never been one to believe the hype, but I believe I can see where you're coming from. And can understand and appreciate the archaic ideals that go with it." He leaned forward with a wider smile. "I do so enjoy our little conversations, Slayer. It's intriguing."

She matched his smile and stood, relaxing. He probably wanted to get back to his studies or whatever he was doing. Or reflect. "If you've a mind, I could invite you to speak at the College of Mages in Winterhold in Skyrim." He arched a skeptical brow at her, resting his temple on two fingers. His smirk not buying a single word she spoke. "If you can withstand the cold, that is."

"As much fun as a holiday like that sounds," he scrunched his nose at her in defeat. "I think I'll pass, thank you. Curious how you could arrange that."

She gave a passive shrug. "I have an in with the Arch-Mage."

He looked her over with a playful smirk but took her phrase at face value. "Alright."

She smiled at his notion. "Seeing as how I'm supposed to secure trade with Ferelden, do you have any books on the subject?" He gave a one-sided smile. "I promise I won't damage them. Again."

He met her gaze for a time, letting all the rude comments he wanted flitter through for polite conversation. The sound of armor on the stairs caught both of their attention and turned to see it. Commander Cullen rounded the stairs and was intent on going to the Roost. "Books on Ferelden, Slayer? I'm sure your husband would approve." Dorian said at a volume above what their space required.

The Commander turned to the alcove and paused. His amber eyes going between the two. Focusing longer on her with an arched brow. His eyes dropped to her casual appearance of her black gambeson left open to reveal a loose maroon shirt, her black woolen rus trousers tucked into her black boots. He then turned back to Dorian. "Dorian, do you have a moment?" His tone was terse. Implying that the mage didn't have a choice.

The mage shot her a playful wink as he stood. "Two shelves back." He said as he passed her. "Commander" he stated louder as if to tell the entire rotunda of his presence. Cullen started to walk and Dorian followed at his side. "I was just telling the Slayer of how much you appear to be in a better mood these days. Not quite the bear of Sky Hold you were when you left. Tell me, what's changed?" There was an unenthused grunt from the Commander as they made their way to the stairs to the roost.

She made her way to the shelves and pulled out a few books on Ferelden's history, lore, and topography from the shelves. Looking at the books, Ferelden: Folklore and History by Sister Petrine seemed like a dry read. But one that would prove the most beneficial. She flipped to the back of the book and saw that the history had stopped in the ninth era. The book was fortyish years outdated if she remembered how their 'ages' worked.

With a deep breath, she found the most comfortable chair she could find and started reading.

She didn't notice the Commanders arched a brow as he passed.

She didn't notice Dorian return from the roost.

She had read over how the land was originally claimed by the barbarians, The Alamarri, and that their great Profit Andraste, who she had written off as this lands Alessia, was from Ferelden. The land was divided between the Avvar, she almost threw up at the mention of their mead, The Chasid, and the Clayne. The myth of the Juggernaut made her think of the Dwemer machines. She read how Teryns were placed in power, and under King Calenhad, created Jarls to oversee much of the land as they were the ones who were the turncoat to King Calenhad

She had finished the Exalted Age when Dorian sat across from her on the bookshelves. Making his presence known as he gave a soft laugh looking at her as she sat uncomfortably in the chair. His eyes glancing at the additional book of the history of the Avvar and a map of Ferelden. Uthreida uncoiled herself from the chair as she looked at him. "Don't judge." She said, pulling her legs from one arm to rest on the floor in front of her.

"I'm not. I rather find myself in the same position when I'm reading a good book."

She smirked at him but set her book aside. "Did I miss lunch or-"

"I could use your help." He said softly, pulling a book from his side. "The Commander gave me this to decipher, but I can't seem to make heads or tails of it. Can you help?"

She looked confused but held a hand out for the book. It was black leather-bound and-

Hang on.

She flipped through a few pages, recognized the writing, a crude drawing of Mjoll, and gave him an annoyed expression. "This is mine."

"I'm aware."

She pursed her lips. "I was looking for this."

"I imagine you were. Here's the deal" he leaned forward to quiet the conversation. "We can't read it."

Uthreida lowered her brows and looked at him in theatrical confusion. She looked at the book on her lap. She opened it, read a few lines, and then looked at the mage again. "Ha?"

He folded his hands. "I can't make heads or tails of your code. May I have the cipher?"

She lowered her brows again. There wasn't anything she was hiding. It was written in common. Like the book on her lap. "You" she scratched her head. "You can't read this?"

"No." He looked annoyed for a moment. "Can I have the cipher?"

"It's in common."

"No."

"Aye."

"Slayer." He warned

"It's in common." She gave a look at him as if it was obvious. Her hand going to the book then back at him.

He took a calming breath. "No. It certainly is not. If you will please give me the cipher, this will go easier."

Uthreida rolled her eyes. "There is no cipher because it's" she gave a dramatic breath "common."

He ran a hand across his face as he looked at her like he was about to set her on fire. "Slayer. If it was in common, I wouldn't need a cipher, now would I?"

She was taken aback for a second. That is true. She squinted at him. "Is this a joke?"

"It certainly is not. The Commander and Spymaster are intent to read whatever you wrote down."

She looked at the book then him. "It's just a travel log. And occasional doodles"

"Yes, I saw the one of Blackwall." He gave a pained look but smiled again. "So, cipher please."

She took a deep breath. "There is no cipher. It's in Common Tamriellic."

"Well, we can't read common…whatever you just said." She tilted her head and gave a look of condensation and confusion. She lifted the book on her lap that she had been reading for the last few hours for him to see. He read the title and 'ahhed. "So the cipher is in Orlesian."

Uthreida turned the book to read the title. It was in common. Not Orlesian. She arched a brow. "Nope. Still common."

He took another breath. "Ferelden: History and Myths, is in Orlesian."

She looked at the cover again. "But it's Ferelden."

"Yes," he sighed. "Yes, it goes over Ferelden, but that book is written in Orlesian."

She looked at the book again. "Nope. It's in Common."

Dorian took a cooling breath, running his hand across his face as he calculated the situation. Uthreida was more confused than ever. He clapped his hands and smiled politely. "Slayer, I understand your desire to keep your secrets…secret. However, as someone who's already been investigated three times since I've been here, it would be easier if you just give up the cipher."

"There is no cipher. It's in common." Her voice carrying at the annoyance of the situation.

Dorian held his hands up to quiet her. "Look. This looks bad. They want to read it. You have to give it up."

"There's nothing-"

"Understood. But I need to present something. Alright, so, help me out."

Uthreida rolled her eyes, annoyed. She flipped open her journal with her handwriting, then opened the book of Ferelden for him to see both. Both held the same lines, triangles, and half marks of common Tamriellic. She waved her hand over both pages. "It's the same."

Dorian looked at the books, then at her with an arched brow. "They certainly are not."

Uthreida took a breath. This had to be a joke. A joke on the foreigner. She licked her lips, knowing that this kind of joke could look bad. "Dorian. I have come to respect you. Do not play these games."

He looked personally offended for a moment. "What game-" he took another breath. "Fine. Read this." He pointed to the page she left off on in the history book.

She arched a brow. "Unopposed, by the year 5:42, Calenhad convened a Landsmeet and was crowned as the first King of Ferelden with his wife, Mairyn, the daughter of Arl Myrddin as its first Queen. However, peace in the lands did not last. Lady Shayne, who had secretly-"

"Alright, alright." He blew a puff of air. "And in Orlesian?"

She furrowed her brows at him. "I don't know Orlesian."

He held out his hands like he was about to choke her, but breathed. "You just read Orlesian but spoke in Common. What does the book say, in Orlesian?"

"I don't know Orlesian." She spoke slowly, enunciating each word.

"Then how" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you quite serious right now?"

"Aye, they're both in common." Her hands going back and forth between the two books.

He did the same gesture. "No. Their. Not." His look turned serious. "Give me the cipher."

She took a moment to catch herself before she did something out of anger. "Dorian," she warned softly.

"Slayer" he met her tone. They looked at one another for a moment before he dropped his head. "Look, I've come to, appreciate our little talks. I also appreciate the service you provide. I'm not exactly willing to stand before Corypheus's dragon and hope to live." He gave a breath to rid himself of the idea of the Arch Demon. "That said, let me vet you with the cipher."

Uthreida felt the resentment well in her chest as she leaned towards him. "I also appreciate your forthrightness when it comes to speaking to me about the arcana in this land. However, and I will not repeat myself again, there is no cipher. There is no code written in my journal. It's all in common for you to read at your leisure."

"We can't read it." He said quietly with a set jaw.

"Impossible," she said through clenched teeth, pointing at the Ferelden book before her.

"Shit on your tongue." He said under his breath. Uthreida cocked a brow at the comment, but let it slide given his position in his little game. He rubbed his temples. "How is it you can read Orlesian, but can't speak it? Further, why are you disconcerted with showing that you can read Orlesian, but now defensive about showing you can speak Orlesian?"

Uthreida, unsure of what he was talking about as both books before her were in common, could only close her eyes and hold her hands up in frustration. She bit her lips in anger and looked at the mage again. "I can't speak or read Orlesian."

Dorian's eyes went wide as he pointed at the book between them with bitten lips. He took a breath and tried a different angle. 'These circular conversations usually go easier when you know what the other wants. So," he templed his hands and looked at her. "In exchange for the cipher-"

"There is no-"

He held up a hand to stop her with a quiet rage. "What do you want? Hmm? Do you want my notes on time magic? Done. I can recreate what I remember and have them to you by the end of the month. But I need that cipher today."

Uthreida looked to the ceiling in anger as she felt her heart grow at the idea of a blood bath. She took a deep breath and looked at him. 'I can't give you what I don't have."

Dorian threw himself further into his chair. "This is a complete waste of my time."

"Then maybe shouldn't waste your time on these games."

He gave a scoff and flicked his wrist with a grin. "Now you speak Tevine?"

She tilted her head at him. Julinaos, when will he stop with this insipid game? "What are you talking about? You're speaking clear as day."

He looked at her. His brown eyes taking her in as his brows furrowed. Not in anger, but in curiosity. Then smirked, resting his head on a fist. "You are one stubborn, hard-headed bitch."

Uthreida mimicked his pose and smirked. "Takes one to know one."

He pulled his head back. All looks of joking set aside as he looked her over. A look of suspicious concern washed his features as he took all of her in. Uthreida felt uncertain of the change in his demeanor and posture as he looked at her. She felt herself pulling away from him, waiting to see if he would speak what he was thinking. He opened his mouth a few times but closed it. With a furrowed brow he leaned forward. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She no longer felt confident about the situation before her. "Aye." She answered slowly.

He pulled back a little. "Repeat after me: In a sea of delightful wine, a mouse may only die." She did, with lowered brows, suspicion written on her face. Dorian sat back in the chair, his curious look never abating as he took her in. "What do you hear when I speak?" he asked slowly.

She gave a slow shrug at the obvious answer. "You. Speaking common?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, I'm not."

Uthreida tilted her head with a lowered brow. What is he going on about? The game had changed and it was starting to frighten him. "Aye, you are."

He shook his head again, his eyes never leaving hers. "You can understand Tevine, but you're not speaking Tevine."

"Neither are you." She looked away. 'I think. I've never heard it."

He tilted his head to look at her expectantly. "What language do you think I'm speaking right now?"

She looked at him to question the validity of the odd question. Looking at him, she started to question the situation. Is he speaking Tevine? Then why was she hearing common? Is this all a game? What ploy is he hoping to find? What was he doing? She felt the fear of this confusion creep up the back of her neck as she looked at him. "Is this a test?"

"No."

"Is this a game?" she found herself speaking quieter to match his tone.

"No." he barely shook his head. The same furrowed brows on his face and slightly slacked jaw about him. He leaned forward slowly, looking at the books. "You said these were the same? Are both of the books written in your language?"

She looked at the books. Each held the same lines, triangles, and half marks as the other. "Aye."

"And your language looks like this?" He asked, pointing to her journal.

Uthreida arched a brow. "Aye."

He leaned back, holding a hand over his mouth. As his eyes looked away in thought, the same facial expression of confusion and concern were carved. He took a deep breath and jumped up. Uthreida watched him as he plucked five more books off the shelves and returned to her. "What are the titles of these books?"

He placed the stack before her, taking his seat and watching her as she went through the stack. "Nevarran Appeasement," she said on the first book. "The Prince and the Widow Walker" was the second, "Of Rivers and Princes: The Battle of the Third Blight." She looked at him. As she read the title pages, she saw the look of fascinated horror cross his face. She put the books down to watch him. What was he thinking? What is he doing? "What is going on?"

He took a calming breath, looking over her. His usually distanced eyes now hyper-focused on her with fear and distrust. "How are you doing that?"

She looked at him in confusion. She did what he told her to do. She read the title. "Doing what?" He looked away. His mind racing with thoughts as his eyes kept moving. "Dorian," she let her own fear creep into her voice. While she hadn't known him for long, she knew this was completely out of character for him. "What's happening?"

He looked at her. Then nodded. "Follow me." He said quickly. Rising from his chair and grabbing her travel log as he turned to leave. Uthreida followed, slower, and behind him. She wasn't sure what to expect, but if it put him on edge, she needed to be cautious. She followed him down the stairs and to Solas's keep. She heard him clear his throat before entering. "Solas." He stated with his usual tone.

"Dorian." The elf kept his back to the mage as he approached.

Dorian walked behind him, gathering a few of his documents from the desk, the book Solas was reading with a short protest of the interruption. "Outside. Now." Dorian took all the papers with him and walked to the western door. Solas looked at Uthreida who could only shrug her shoulders at the bald elf and followed the Imperial.

Solas gave an annoyed breath but did follow them out of the building. They met the mage halfway on the walkway to the Commander's office. Uthreida felt her shoulders tighten. If it scared him, was he going to tell the Commander now? She clenched her jaw. She didn't even know what was going on but knew that the Commander would look for any excuse to see her hung. He was distrustful of mages and only saw that in her. It couldn't end like this. She needed the Inquisition. She needed to go home.

"Solas." Dorian said with a smile. "Will you say something in elven please?" He waived Uthreida closer to the two. "I need a second opinion. And seeing as how you were the closest, congratulations. This is either about to become the most fascinating find or a very dangerous situation. Huzzah."

The elf looked between the two with an arched brow. "What are you going on about?"

"I just need you to say something in Elven. Please. For magic."

Solas gave a sigh. "While I am delighted that you wish to partake in the history of the people, I do find this particular exuberance to be below even you."

Dorian looked at Uthreida with expectance, but she didn't understand what was happening. Dorian rolled his hand. "What did he say?"

Uthreida looked between the two men. Solas had a smirk, but a skeptical look while Dorian was honest in his desire to learn. She took a deep breath. "Solas said that he is excited that you want to learn about the people, but finds your exuberance below you."

Solas's expression went from skeptical to respectful. His smirk turning into a smile. "You know Dalish?"

"Not quite," Dorian said with hesitance. He pulled a pen from the book Solas had been reading, and a parchment that had some writing on it. Dorian flipped through the pages looking for something as Solas approached her.

"How is it you've come to learn Dalish?" Solas asked with a smirk.

Uthreida looked at him, still looking concerned with what Dorian was up to. "I…I don't know what Dalish means."

Solas cocked a brow and tilted his head. He pulled his hands behind his back as he stood before her. "You don't know what Dalish means, yet you know the language?"

Uthreida looked at him with the same level of fear as before. Is he? Is he in on it? She looked around. Is he speaking this…Dalish? Uthreida took a deep breath. According to Dorian, she could read Orleasian, could understand Tevine, and now, understood Dalish. What is going on?

"Finally," Dorian announced, waving a hand for her to approach. She did, no longer certain of what was going on anymore. "I want you to write exactly what you see here." He pointed at a specific script in a book. She felt Solas looking over her shoulder.

It was a poem. In common. About sleeping. She looked at Dorian for confirmation. "Copy exactly?"

"Yes, copy exactly what you see." He passed her the pen and took a step back to let her write.

Uthreida held the pen in her hand and pushed it to the parchment. "Dorian, what's going on? Why-" she took a breath trying to beat down the fear in her chest. "What's happening?"

He clenched his jaw, his eyes on the parchment. He licked his lips slowly. "I'm sorry, Uthreida, I can't tell you." His voice was soft and laced with concern. "I have to keep you blind so you can't change what I'm looking for. I promise to fill you in once I know what is discovered. Please." He met her gaze and breathed as she did. "Copy it." He swallowed hard, watching her hand.

Uthreida clenched her jaw and wrote the poem as it appeared on the page. All the lines, triangles, and half marks in the same stanzas as they appeared on the page. She could feel Solas exchanging looks with Dorian as she wrote. She could feel the tension in the air with each stroke of the pen. She could feel Solas becoming more suspicious with each passing second.

When she finished, she passed it to Doran to read. He only looked at her, searching. With a clenched jaw, he looked at Solas. "Uthreida, would you read the text please?"

She looked at Solas who seemed intrigued. It was in Dalish. The poem was in Dalish. She looked at the book. How could she read this language that she had nver heard of before? She swallowed hard. "Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky. Hastening to place one last kiss upon your eyes. Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber. Softening the rolling thunder. Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense. During this, your last hours, only silence."

Solas smirked in appreciation. "You made it rhyme in common? Interesting."

"How is it supposed to sound, Solas?" Dorian asked with some skepticism. Solas gave a smirk and repeated the same poem she wrote and spoke. She felt Dorian look at her. Watching her. When Solas finished, Dorian arched a brow at her. 'What did you hear?"

Uthreida swallowed hard. She wanted to lie. She wanted to pretend like this wasn't happening. She wanted to hide in the shadows. But the dragon blood stopped her. To lie is to weaken her truth. Her voice. Her thu'um. She swallowed hard. "I heard him speak in the common tongue."

Dorian looked to Solas who looked amused, but just as concerned as Dorian initially did. Solas arched a brow. "Fascinating." His look of concern turned into one of interest. Dorian passed him the parchment and her journal for review. Solas looked at both a slow methodical eye, matching the handwriting and not deciphering what was common to her. Solas took a breath and passed the work back. "I assume the opinion is to ask if she is possessed."

Dorian cliched his jaw while looking at her. "Basically."

Uthreida watched as Solas's steel eyes turned to the tower behind them. To the Commander's office, before looking at her again. He took a breath. "And you want to keep this quiet?"

"If possible. No sense in making a scene."

Solas arched a brow at the mage but kept his eyes on her. He seemed to consider the situation with a more calculated risk. His silence was enough to make her question the decision. She should have just made a cipher and called it good. Solas gave a slow nod. "I can find out. But I will need to enter the Fade to do it."

"So, tonight?"

"Preferably."

"Cole" Dorian stated quickly. "Can he detect if someone is-"

"No. But I would suggest that you run some tests of your own. Check her for machinations of blood magic. Quietly."

Dorian gave a scoff. "Despite what the Southern Templars claim, there's no real test for it I'm afraid."

Solas gave another deep breath. "Then I would suggest informing Sister Liliana of your findings so far and have Seeker Cassandra oversight the investigation." He looked at Uthreida and gave a kind smile. "I will have to impede on your dreams tonight to see if you are attached to any demons in the Fade. I believe I was supposed to warn you if I snuck up on you in the dark?" He tilted his head playfully.

Uthreida looked at the elf pleading. "What is going on?"

He gave a soft nod. "That is what we want to find out."

Knowing he was distracted, she let her frustration of the situation out. She grabbed Doran by the collar and pulled him down to her. "What did you do?" She kept her voice down to not catch the attention of the Commander, but her tone scathed like a knife.

Dorian gave a steeled look at her but slowly held his hands up in surrender. "What do you think is happening?"

She released him like he was a fire. She looked away from him, allowing the questions surrounding her to come out. "I can't read Dwemer or Falmer. I've heard spoken Argonian and Kahjati, I know Atamorian and some Cyrodillic. So how is it that you believe that I can read and hear these other languages of this land when I've never been here before? Been outside of Ferelden?" She looked at him, feeling the tightening of her heart in fear as she searched his eyes for answers. "How can I possibly know this unless you're playing a game with me?" Her heart moved into her throat and she heard her voice crack when she asked "Are our languages truly not the same?"

Dorian had to close his eyes as he took a breath. He bit his lip as he looked at her, denying her the whole truth to rule out any outliners. "Let's find out." he gave a charming smile and reset his mask of indifference as he sauntered past Solas. "Tonight then?" he waived a wrist as he walked. "Slayer." He called over his shoulder as he approached the door.

Uthreida looked at Solas, demanding he move first so as not to run to the Commander with this new information. He gave a polite smirk but walked in front of her to the door. She found herself following the elf but looking over her shoulder. Expecting to see that blonde, fur-clad man standing at his door frame, waiting for her to slip up. Waiting for her to betray the Inquisition. Waiting.

Dorian took her up the stairs but told her to wait in the library. The same alcove with all of the books both of them had pulled earlier. The idea of continuing her reading over Ferelden seemed impossible with the ideas that floated in her mind.

She had heard Argonian before. It was all hisses like the lizard people are known for. She had heard Kahjati. It was a mix of a beautiful song and coughing up hairballs. She knew phrases, runes, and songs from Ancient Atomora. She had seen the writing of the Dwemner that seemed just out of her grasp to understand. She remembered the Falmer journal of Frey and how they needed someone else to transcribe it.

So how is it that she knew, apparently, Orlesian, Tevine, and Dalish?

She sat on the chair, her eyes glazed at the fountain of new information. She heard Dorian approached and she turned to see him walking with the Spymaster. Oh, this will end pleasantly.

Sister Lilliana gave a smile. "Hello."

Uthreida stood to meet her, giving a polite bow. "Blessings."

"Dorian informs me that you understand Orlesian, is that true."

She gave a shrug. "Apparently."

The two exchanged a look and the Spymaster smirked. Uthreida threw her head back. Liliana was speaking Orlesian. And just confirmed that she couldn't hear or read the language but understood it. Uthreida pursed her lips at the situation before her. "So now what?"

Lilliana smirked. "Now, we see how far it goes. Follow me."

Lilliana lead her and Doran to Cassandra who was in the middle of training to conduct the same three tests that Doran had done with Solas. Cassandra was impressed at Uthreida's grasp of concepts of the Nevarran language but found that she did literal translations rather than the cultural understanding of the phrases.

They had asked her to step aside so the three could converse on how to find out if she was possessed. However, needed to keep it quiet as they didn't need the rumor that the Dragon Slayer, on contract by the King, was either an abomination or a blood mage. Cassandra suggested a few tests and the name of a few discreet Templars that are trained to oversee the tests.

Cassandra also offered a new idea. She led the three into the Tavern and stopped in front of Bull. Uthreida watched as his one good eye took in the three, but landed on Uthreida. His eye landed on her hands. Uthreida felt uncomfortable being under so much scrutiny that she missed where her hands were placed in her hips. She missed their conversation as she realized that her thumb was tucked under her belt, and itched for the comforting coolness of her axe. She clenched her hand, trying to fight off the shaking that was happening without her consent.

"Uthreida."

She turned at the low sound of her name. Bull had stood, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her. His eye was intense but held a soft smirk. She looked away from him.

"She knows Qunlat." Uthreida looked at the horned man with furrowed brows. "But, if you pay close attention, her lips don't move right when she speaks." Three sets of eyes turned to look at her only to see her eyes wide at the new information. "It's kinda fun actually."

Lilliana looked at him and hissed, "You didn't think to bring this up?"

Bull gave a shrug. "When I knew she spoke Qunlat, I thought she was an additional Ben Hassrath sent to validate my reports. I wanted a little extra time to verify before I brought it to you, Red. No offense, I didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing." He took a deep breath when he looked at Uthreida again. "But what's weird is, she moves like it's common to hear Qunlat. But I said a phrase in camp in Redcliff that tipped you off, didn't I?" Uthreida looked at him and felt the blood drain from her face. In Redcliff, he said Ma, Los Lok. Life, Death, Sky. In Dovzhzul. She looked away from him. So why didn't Dovzhzul translate? "That's why she started singing really loudly. Hoping someone would sever the conversation for her so as not to attract the idea that she knew, that I knew, that she knew Qunlat." He gave another half-shrug. "I thought it was kind of enduring."

Dorian shook his head. "Hang on," he held his hands up, looking at Uthreida. "Say something."

She arched a brow. "Something."

He rolled his eyes. "What's your name?"

"Uthreida."

"Where are you from?"

"Skyrim."

"What's your favorite color?"

She arched a brow and noticed that he was watching her lips move as she spoke. She looked at herself in consideration. "Black?"

Dorian pulled his head back. "Andraste's…you're right Bull." He looked at the Qunari with a smirk. "Her lips, she doesn't-"

"Yea," Bull stated with a smile. "Wouldn't know unless you were looking."

Dorian smirked. "Fascinating. Though, given the situation, I'm not entirely sure. So," he looked at Bull. "Don't suppose you've ever heard of this sort of thing have you?"

He gave a slow shake of his head. "No. But I'm glad you're bringing it up now and that she's unarmed. The fact that you're still alive means that she's just as confused as the rest of you. And if that's any indication, chances are, it's probably blood magic that was done without her knowledge. Further, can you really afford to reverse it?"

Cassandra looked offended at the notion where Lilliana looked in thought. Dorian seemed to consider it. But all Uthreida could question was how she could translate mortal tongues now, but not Dragon?

XxXxXxXx

Uthreida took a deep breath. Ready for day two of 'What in the fucking Void is going on now?' After Bull, they tried Josephine who could confirm Antivan. She upped the ante by showing them the ancient texts that came with the Castle. She was putting off getting scholars to translate as it would cost time and money that the Inquisition didn't have. Low and behold, Uthreida was able to read the older tongues that were confirmed to be Tevine, Dalish, and Dwarven.

Knowing that she could read ancient dwarven meant nothing, so Varric and his knowledge of some phrases helped confirm that she knew modern Dwarven as well. And, too much of her chagrin, could translate ciphered texts from the merchants guild. Dorian was above excited to see her capabilities, while the others were more suspicious of the behavior from both of them. Lilliana seemed to have a cool face which told Uthreida that Liliana's cipher for her spies was useless against Uthreida.

Which means more suspicion.

Which means more random room inspections.

Which means more oversight from the Commander.

This means she should start seriously considering her options on how to fight her way out of Sky Hold. Between Ethereal and Dragon Aspect, she could walk out without too much harm to the people.

She stopped by Solas's desk first thing before meeting Dorian and Lilliana to continue their day of poking and prodding. "So," Uthreida said, as she leaned against his desk. The elf was wiping his hands on a rag as he entered his own area in the rotunda. "Had an odd dream last night."

He gave a short smile. "Yes. I was there."

"Aye, you were."

"No," he took a deep breath. "I mean I stepped into your dream."

She arched a brow. That was only for the Dreamers of Vermeina. "How?"

"I am what the ancient Teventers called a Dreamer. My abilities in the Fade allow me to manipulate the area around me and seek out spirits and wisdom."

Uthreida looked him over carefully. While she didn't have the most experience with dreamers, she did have experience with the Deadra. "Aye." She said slowly.

He seemed to see her unease with the conversation and smiled kindly. "You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you."

"Who was the woman that was ready to kill me?" he kept the same smile for her.

"Reyya. My house Karl." She said, letting the smile cross her face. When he entered, it became a lucid dream. If it wasn't for him, she may not have remembered it so easily.

"She seemed" he paused, looking her over before speaking. "Formidable." Uthreida gave a scoff. He was half right. Reyya was the only one she trusted anymore. "You have an impressive library and armory. I'm sure you miss it."

She nodded. She looked at him to see a slightly tilted head as he looked her over, trying to have both a polite conversation and not willing to reveal too much to the other. She opened her mouth to ask him how often did he enter dreams and what exactly were his ethics given what she had seen in the Pale when two sets of boots circled down the stairs.

Lilliana and Dorian were walking side by side as they entered. Both eyes looked at the two and created an awkward pause between the four. Liliana smiled as she approached. She stood next to Solas while it was obvious to her that Dorian was to distract her from their conversation. He kept asking her questions and to repeat things back to him as if he had new theories that he wanted to test out.

Her eyes kept gazing over to Liliana and Solas. He kept his back straight but she could see the minor brow raises from the elf. He was becoming agitated with the conversation. Either Liliana wasn't understanding, or he was trying to hide something. It's probably a conversation best left for Dorian to translate into lamens rather than Liliana. Her eyes looked at Liliana who was looking at her hands as she spoke. The same look of agitation didn't cross her features. Uthreida lowered her brows. Did she know what he was saying but was deceptively trying to get him to talk?

Would he tell her that Uthreida didn't understand a word he said in her dream?

Would he tell her of the dragons he saw when he made her Lake Side house disappear? Those whose souls she's yet to consume.

What was he saying?

"Uthreida."

Dorian pulled her away from the sight to make her focus on the mage. He gave a hard sigh. His brown eyes looking both pitiful and stern as he looked at her. "I know this seems like a lot to ask. And I know you know exactly what we're doing and how we're doing it. But, this is important. We need to make sure that this…ability can't be recreated or…used…against us." He furrowed his brows as he looked at her. He lifted a hand to place on her shoulder but seemed to stop himself. "Now comes the hard part." He sighed again. "You will be tested to see if you" he paused, clenching his jaw. He looked away, "Know that the next tests will be carried out in a professional manner and that you have nothing to fear provided you are telling the truth." He gave a nod but leaned in closer. "You are telling the truth, right?"

"Right."

He nodded slowly. "Good." He gave a pained look at her. "If it's any consolation, I think it's interesting. And we're working on a solid defense. But-"

The west door opened and an Inquisition Soldier entered with an Orange shall over their shoulder. An officer. Uthreida noticed that Dorian stopped talking as the Soldier approached them. From the helm, Uthreida noticed the deep eyes and the produced nose of a male. His blue eyes sizing her up as he passed to Liliana. Uthreida looked at Dorian who swallowed hard. She gave him a questioning look only for him to hold up a hand to silence her questions. "I'm sorry." He said, his look matching his tone. "But this path needs to be followed. There are, uh, procedures that need to be met first. And from what I understand here in the south, you'll be fine. I'm sure. Just" he paused to look her over, his eyes cut to the Soldier then Liliana, then sighed. "Tell the truth."

Uthreida lowered her brows more as she looked at Dorian, sensing what she was sure going to be a betrayal of what little trust she placed in the mage. She pursed her lips at him, shaking her head.

"Slayer." Liliana approached, forcing her to turn. "This is Knight-Captain Rylen. He will be undergoing the trial for you. I can assure you that he is both discreet and professional."

Uthreida watched as the Soldier removed their helm to reveal sun-kissed skin, short mahogany hair that was currently suffering from the helmet, and blue tattoos over his nose and chin. His eyes looked her over for a moment with a look of indifference as he placed the helm under his arm. "I understand you are undergoing the trial willingly." His tone was harsh as was the boroughs in his voice that reminded her of Branyolf.

Uthreida arched a brow. "What trial?"

Liliana looked at Dorian for a moment, then at her with a patient expression. "To see if you have evidence of blood magic on your person."

She arched a brow again. From what she understood of the land, it would appear that their version of blood magic was no different than that of Vampirism back in Tamriel. She wanted to open her mouth to show she didn't have fangs and they have seen her travel in daylight. So, what was this trial? "I'm assuming this is part of the 'procedures' then?"

"It is," Liliana stated. She turned to the Captain. "Shall we go somewhere more comfortable?"

"Personal quarters, if we can." He stated, his eyes never leaving her.

Liliana nodded to the soldier. "Lead the way." She waved a hand to Uthreida.

Uthreida looked at the door the Soldier just entered and realized she would have to pass the Commander's office if she took that route. Turning, she moved through the main hall, past the gardens, and up the stairs to reach her personal quarters. Uthreida was the first to enter and allowed the others as well.

The two stayed standing as the three of them were in her, now cramped, quarters. Uthreida sat on the bed. "Now what?"

"Undo your hair and get undressed."

Uthreida looked at the Soldier. High brows and wide eyes. "Ha?"

"I need to check you for scarification that is concurrent to the use of or aligned with the machination of blood magic-"

"At least buy me dinner first. Maybe a few goats."

"Slayer Uthreida" Liliana chimed in. Uthreida looked at her in anger. As a woman, she should know how humiliating this is. "I can assure you that Captain Rylen will be professional and discreet. But we need to rule out that your ability is not due to blood rite."

Uthreida jutted her jaw. "You could ask." Her sharp tone threatened a Thu'um.

Liliana took a breath. "Is it?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Uthreida paused. At this point, anything was possible. "No." She admitted lowly, relinquishing her anger at the woman.

Lilianna nodded. "Please get undressed."

Uthreida looked the Soldier over quickly. The heat from the anger and impending embarrassment lit her stomach and neck. "How close are you to the Commander?"

He only arched a brow. "Why?"

She looked to Liliana then at him. "Commander Cullen has made his intentions known that I do not belong here. That he will go out of his way to see me either killed or incarcerated. How do I know that you aren't paid by him to undergo this investigation to rule in his favor?"

"Because I paid him." Lilianna objected. "I paid for his discretion."

Uthreida arched a brow at him. "You would turn your back on the Commander?"

He took a breath and shook his head in annoyance. "I'm doing this because the morale has increased since we brought you on. I'm doing this because my soldiers are afraid of that archdemon. I'm doing this so that if the Commander finds out, he'll trust my word over anyone else's. He'll trust me to do the right thing."

"And what is the right thing?" Uthreida scathed, keeping her axe within view. They blocked her access, but even if they were armed, she can still fight her way to it.

The Soldier arched a brow. "Truth, honor, and diligence. Now please."

She took in the soldier. He didn't seem phased at the prospect but took it as one of his duties. She looked at Lilianna who was quietly asking her to do as she was told. Uthreida took a step back and threw her gloves to the floor. She watched in an angered glair at the Soldier and at Lilianna as she removed her boots, the buckles of her gambeson, the lacing of her trousers, and pulled her shirt over her head.

She stood before them in nothing but her smalls and felt the heat rise off her skin in anger that was masking her embarrassment as she was gawked at with eyes of indifference. It took everything in her not to cover herself up from his steel gaze.

The Soldier took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Uthreida stepped back.

He rolled his eyes. "Miss, I have to inspect your body for self-inflicted wounds."

Uthreida scoffed. "Look at me." She indicated to her chest, torso, and legs. The countless scars of arrows, swords, bites, burns, breaks littered her skin. "How many of these look self-inflicted to you?"

"That's rather the point." He took the final step forward. "Please." Uthreida looked at Liliana in anger, but let the man work. This embarrassment should not go unnoticed and damn well better be compensated. "Starting with the obvious, scar on your face. Who did it and where did it come from?"

"Imperial Soldier outside of Riften. He thought I needed humbling." She flashed a smile but watched him.

He moved to stand behind her. "Pull your hair loosely to the top of your head please." With a grunt, she did as requested. The man moved, layer by layer to look for scars on her scalp. He came to one on the left side. "What happened here?" his tone calculated as he spoke.

"Frost Troll."

"What's a 'frost troll?"

"You don't have trolls here?" She asked the Soldier. with an annoying attitude.

"No."

"Must be nice." She stated uncaring. But his piercing glair made her continue. "Large primates that live in snowy regions or forested regions. Hence the names, Frost or Forest trolls."

He gave a soft grunt as he kept going. Seeming content, he left her hair. He touched her lower back and made her jump at the contact. "What happened?' His tone was cold as he took her in.

"Dragon."

He pointed to her upper left shoulder. "Here?"

Karliah. "Arrow."

"Here" on her third rib on her right side.

Astrid. "Assassin." He pointed her right bicep. "Imperial Soldier." He pointed at her right anterior forearm. "Blades."

"I can tell it's a blade. Whose blade?"

"The Blades." She took a deep breath and tried to push Delphanie from her mind. He kept his fingers on it, waiting for the story. "They were once the dragon hunting guild from Akavir. They then turned Imperial Bodyguards, then treasonous outlaws."

"That doesn't explain the scar."

Uthreida took a breath. "It was a blood oath." She felt both sets of eyes fall to her. She sighed. "Spill some blood into the bowl and become one of us kind of deal. No gods or spirits were involved. It's was a blood brotherhood pact."

"Are they the ones who trained you on how to kill dragons?" Liliana asked. Resting her hips on her desk.

"They don't even know which end of a dragon is the head." Uthreida shook her head. "No, they didn't. They wished me the best of luck and sent me on my way." She took a breath.

The Soldier applied pressure to the wound causing her to flinch. She met his gaze and looked at her with the eyes of a dead man. "What was the oath?" She arched a brow. "What was the blood oath?"

She looked away. "To bring honor to the Blades. To never betray my brothers and sisters in arms."

"Did you betray them?"

"That's a matter of perspective." He applied more pressure onto her arm, his thumb digging between her bones causing her to seize up in his hand. "You tell me, Captain." She growled, "They ordered me to kill a feared warlord who abandoned his army and turned his life to peace through religion. Who was trying to teach peace to others? Who taught wisdom to others. Is it betrayal to deny one's revenge for another's hope at a second chance?" He loosened his grip, but his eyes stayed as strong as they were before. "When I denied them his life, they denied me their oaths." She took a breath and looked him head-on. "Maybe I did betray them. Maybe it still stings. But even a hammer will break after too many nails."

He took a disappointed breath, and moved on, checking her wrist, hands, and fingers for wounds. He stood before her. Taking in her throat, chest, and slowly lifted a hand to her left ribs. "Here?"

Frey. "Dagger."

"Who's dagger?"

"Fucking Frey."

"That means nothing to me. Who's Frey?"

Uthreida rolled her eyes. "Frey robbed my family blind. He tried to kill me so I couldn't tell the others it was him and expose him for all his sins." Uthreida realized just how much half-truths she was releasing for the Spymaster, but her eyes were watching the Soldiers diligently, making sure he wasn't doing anything unprofessional. Uthreida wanted to hit her for allowing this indignity on her person. However, Uthreida was also torn between the vouching that would come from the Spymaster if proved innocent and the fact that she wanted to know just as badly as Dorian did as to what was going on with her. How could she understand languages she's never heard of before?

The Soldiers hand dropped to her right thigh. He asked again about the long line. Cicero. "Assassin."

Liliana arched a brow. 'That's two assassin attacks."

"I'm not well-loved by the Guild."

Liliana gave a smirk as the soldier moved to her left. He inspected her shoulder, arms, and moved to her hand. He flipped it over to see her palm. "Here?"

Serana. "That one's a bit more embarrassing. I was instructed to clear out a cave that was full of, what you call, blood mages. Came across a contraption. Pushed the wrong button, and well, pike to the hand."

He arched an unamused brow. "ow." He stated deadpanned. "You shed blood in front of blood mages?"

"Well, by that time they were all dead, so. Aye." His half-lidded eyes met her with a line on his lips. "It wasn't intentional. Trust me. Had to strap a shield to my arm for months waiting for it to heal. And I hate shields." She gave a breath. "Actually gets rather tight in the cold." She clenched her hand at the thought of it.

He took a deep breath and placed his thumb over it, applying pressure. But his eyes closed as if he was trying to concentrate on something. After a few moments, he looked at Liliana, and gave a solemn shake of his head. Uthreida watched as Liliana offered her a small smile of congratulations. Did she pass? "Now" he said with a deep breath. His eyes adverted from her as he took a step back. "I need you to remove your smalls and lay on the bed."

Uthreida looked at Liliana in disbelief then at him. Hasn't he seen enough? She opened her mouth to yell at him about disrespecting her honor, how her 'husband' hasn't even seen her without a shirt. He only held up one hand. "Miss." His facial expression was one of required due diligence and his tone of exhaustion.

She crossed her arms and looked at him. "I want the fattest cut of meat that this hold can produce on his tab." She growled to Liliana who only smirked.

"At this point, I'll buy the wine." He stated with the same level of exhaustion as before. "If, you complete this trial and we can move on."

Uthreida took a deep breath. "Can I just mention the indignity and embarrassment?"

Liliana arched a brow but kept smirking. "You can, though, I doubt it will help much."

Uthreida looked at the Soldier who kindly kept his eyes anywhere else but her person while she undressed. Her clothing slowly becoming a stack on the floor. She moved and laid on the bed, her eyes trained on the ceiling above her.

"Open your legs, please." Uthreida scowled and moved her legs to either side of the bed. What was this Soldier's name again? By the gods, if he so much as mentions this to anyone, he won't be able to move for the next week. And she'll find him each week in the ring. She watched him approach, keeping his hands on his hips as he moved his head to look her over from each angle. He stepped out of view and touched her foot. She jumped up and pulled her foot away from him. He arched a single annoyed brow at her and Liliana did the same. Uthreida grounded her teeth and offered her foot back to him. She watched him as he inspected between each of her toes and under her feet and ankles. "Rollover."

She wanted the answer too, Uthreida chanted to herself. She wanted to know why she could understand languages she's never heard of. And if this was one method to do it, she had to do it. She took the same position on her stomach. She couldn't watch him but didn't feel his hands on her either. "Thank you. You may put your clothes back on."

"Bless you, Tsun." She scathed between her teeth. The Soldier turned his back from her while she dressed. All the while shooting angry looked at Liliana who only blinked patiently at her. Uthreida had to take a few calming breaths as she put her trousers on.

"Let me know when you're decent." He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Uthreida looked at Liliana with pursed lips as she tightened the lacing on her trousers. Uthreida shook her head, reaching for the maroon shirt and pulled it over her head. "She's decent," Liliana informed for her. Uthreida jutted her jaw at the woman. Just a few more articles, please? He turned slowly as if to make sure Liliana wasn't playing a joke on him. He opened his hand to the floor below the bed. He was slow to get on the floor as his age and the weight of his armor was apparent. He pulled out a ring and vile from a pouch pocket and looked at Uthreida to sit before him. "Now that the physical trial is over. It's time for the spiritual test."

"Skaaaa" she stated in a monotone voice.

He quirked a brow but let it go. "Hand please." He requested while removing his gloves. Uthreida passed him her left hand as she didn't want to affect her main sword arm to whatever he was about to do. He held it. But looking at the tattoo on her hand, rotated so he was holding the meat of her thumb under his. "I'm going to give a prayer and force the demon to present itself. But first." He upturned the vile onto his other thumb and moved to touch her forehead. Uthreida pulled back away from him, not wanting to be touched by whatever he just did. He finally pulled her arm towards him, forcing her to lean forward. He touched her forehead and made a symbol of a circle that was crossed. He looked at her as a child and placed the ring against her thumb as he began to chant about how the Maker is blessed in all things. How the Maker commanded the unclean spirit in her to come forth and have the child be free of its sin.

Uthreida watched him in the utmost confusion. He would probably get more leeway if he called the Maker Mangus since, all in all, they were the same. He'd probably get more results if he cast a Stendars light on her to draw whatever darkness was in her. But here they were. This Soldier-Priest doing absolutely nothing and proving absolutely nothing.

She had half a mind to make some weird noises just to see what would happen, but looking at Liliana's intense gaze, it might not be for the best.

So she sat there, waiting for this man to hurry up and claim that she's not possessed by any spirit or demons and let her carry on her day. When he was done, he just looked at her with an intense gaze. Uthreida felt uncomfortable with his eyes looking at her like that. She looked to Liliana who only waited for the ritual to be completed. Uthreida arched a brow at him, a frown appearing on her face.

The humiliation, the indignity of the entire morning so far, all accumulated to this. Staring at her. She rolled her eyes. How many times could she have used the Dismay Thu'um and ran him screaming from her room? How many times could she have thrown him across the room and laughed every time he got up. All of this, for him just to stare at her. By the nine, this place is so backward and barbaric.

She arched an unamused brow at him. And felt her heart squeeze slightly in her chest. She felt her magika drain from her arms. She looked to see her hands, his rink growing hot in the moment. She met his eyes and tisked. "You're a Templar."

His gaze didn't abate as he kept staring at her. His ring burning her thumb. But she was too stubborn to show the pain. She didn't know if showing pain meant she wasn't possessed, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in discomfort.

Uthreida breathed through the pain. She breathed through the embarrassment. She stared down the man before her with the same amount of intensity as he was showing her.

He looked away, pulling her hand closer for him to inspect as he looked at the burn spot on her thumb. "I don't think she's a blood mage or possessed, but should still be monitored, just in case." Uthreida stood as Liliana gave a nod of thanks to him. Uthreida looked down at him and he tried to stand twice but his leg had apparently fallen asleep and was weighted down by the armor. He gave a depreciating chuckle. "Can you help me, please?" Uthreida groaned but held a hand for him anyway. The man gave a nod of thanks when he stood and sucked in air as the blood rushed back to his leg. He looked her over and gave a reassuring smile. "While I'm certain you're not possessed, because the concern has risen, you will have to be monitored."

Oh, she could bet the Commander couldn't wait to hear that news. He'll gladly assign three itching new soldiers to watch her. She gave a gruff grunt at the comment. "What was your name?"

"Knight-Captain Rylen."

"Good. I am going to collect on that dinner."

He scoffed. "What kind of wine do you like?"

"I shouldn't drink wine." She said with a scrunched nose.

He looked away in thought them smiled. "Port then."

"I don't know what that is, but I'll take it."

His smile turning a grin as he nodded in agreeance. "Slayer." He gave a formal bow as he turned and left, replacing his helmet as he exited the room.

Uthreida's eyes turned to Liliana. "And you just stood there."

XxXxXxXx

Cullen climbed the stairs two at a time when he was out of sight from the others. His anger of not even being informed of this situation and now having his troops move without his consent was unjustifiable. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of the Inquisitor. He moved to make sure he entered with a level head before hearing the 'come in' from the other side.

Cullen pushed the door open and took the steps one at a time. He entered the floor and saw Royoc standing at his desk with a glass of wine in one hand as he was reading over the reports. He took one look over his shoulder and returned to the parchment. "No, I will not reconsider about sending the troops to the Hinterlands to find more resources."

"That's not why I'm here," Cullen stated bluntly, though, it did rub the wrong way when he made that decision when other people needed the army's presence.

Royoc laid the parchment down and turned to look at him head-on. He placed the glass on the desk, resting his hip against it while crossing his arms. "Well then, what can I do for you, Commander?"

He held up the parchment that sent him on this path. "I was going through the deluge on my desk and came across this missive. Did you move Forces to create a false outpost based on nothing more than a few chalk drawings?"

Royoc was silent for a moment as he took in the Commander's tone. But as the silence dragged on, Cullen felt the heckles on his shoulders rise. "I moved my forces to set up a false outpost, yes. Why?"

His forces. Hmm. Right. "I'm concerned that the movement is both out of place and outside of required necessity. We are at war. We don't have time or resources for this. The logistics of setting up this false outpost alone is both irresponsible and negligent. Our Soldiers could be exposed to greater danger in an area that hasn't been properly scouted."

"They'll be fine." He gave a dismissive hand as spoke, but the arrogant smile wasn't helping matters.

"You don't know that."

Royoc tilted his head as he looked at Cullen. He stood slowly keeping his arms crossed. "Are you questioning your training methods, Commander? Do you believe our men are not prepared or incapable of this sort of mission?"

"No, I-"

"Then what's the issue?"

Cullen clenched his jaw. It was Royocs Inquisition, after all, he supposed. Cullen took a breath before pressing the issue. "My issue is, you set up this outpost during the time frame that I was out of the office to give my advice on the matter. How do you know these aren't Tevinter markers set up specifically to make you lose focus? Or draw out soldiers into an isolated area where they can be overrun knowing our forces are not as bolstered into a comfortable state?"

"Commander Cullen," he raised a hand to silence him.

"Inquisitor, I'm sorry, but this is absolutely ridiculous. Had you have waited until I returned, we could've gone over the logistics, personnel-"

"You left the office to avoid luncheons and meetings with the nobles," Royoc interjected. "Meetings that you've known for the last few weeks that were scheduled during that time frame. You left me and Josephine to cover down in your absence."

Royoc was not turning the safety of the men back on him. "I felt it prudent-" Cullen stopped when he saw the annoyance on Royoc's face. Chalk drawings. He redirected forces for chalk drawings. Royoc was his superior and in so doing, was allowed to make these decisions without his actual consent. Cullen looked away. He took a breath, backing off. "Perhaps, it will reveal something worth noting. Hopefully."

"Thank you," Royoc stated in a terse tone. "Now," his whole demeanor changed as he picked up the parchment he was just looking at. "Josephine has secured a reliable trade with Orzammar for lyrium. Rough guess, how many Templars do we have in the forces?"

Cullen swallowed hard at the question. "Thirty-eight."

"Including yourself?" He asked casually while sipping his wine.

And here we go. Cullen cleared his throat. It's a conversation he's been meaning to have, but never actually got around to it. "No."

"So, thirty-nine, safely round up to an even forty, plus the mages here, puts us at roughly" he gave a soft chuckle. "How many mages do we have again?"

"Fifty-two."

Royoc gave a playful look that said Cullen was paying too much attention to the mages. "Right, so Thirty-nine plus fifty-two makes, ninety-one? I believe?"

"We only need ninety," Cullen stated coolly.

"We could round-up for now until-"

"We only need ninety." Cullen clenched his jaw as he looked at the Inquisitor. "For now."

Royoc looked at him in question. His brown eyes taking in his Commander with a calculating look. He looked at the parchment then back at him. "Why is that, exactly?"

Cullen cliched his hand and felt his body shiver even at the thought of the calming blue vile in his hand again. "I no longer take lyrium."

Royoc arched a brow but remained silent as he looked the Commander over. He took a breath but kept his emotions off his face. "Why?"

Cullen looked away. The stacked bodies, the smell of fire, the infernal whisperings. The hate on both sides. "Because I defected from the Order to aid the Inquisition."

Royoc took a deep breath as he looked him over like an enraged lion in a cage. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you about the side effects of this choice. Personal and professional."

"I'm aware of them."

"And how many of them are you currently undergoing?"

Cullen swallowed back the truth. He would admit to the headaches, nausea, insomnia, occasional seizures, muscle spasms. The memories. He took a deep breath. "Most of them."

He sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Commander Cullen, this decision cannot be taken lightly. The repercussions of this-"

"I will endure," Cullen stated, making the conversation final.

Royoc tilted his head at him. The look of indignation washed away as he took another breath to calm himself. Royoc looked at him in concern at that moment. "How long?" Cullen arched a brow at the question. "How long have you not taken lyrium?"

Cullen rested his hand on the pommel of his blade. It calmed him, if only slightly. "Six months."

Royoc arched a brow as if mildly impressed. "I'd like to say you survived the worse of it, but-"

But the worse has yet to come, Cullen knew. It was only a matter of time before he became lyrium addled. Losing his mind and his will. Drooling upon his own shirt and begging in the streets to any passerby for lyrium if they had it.

Royoc shook his head. "You need time to heal, Commander. You can't do that here. I'll reach out to some of my old contacts, see if they have a general who would be willing to replace-"

Replace? Cullen felt his heart in this throat at the idea. No. He and Royoc may butt heads from time to time, but this shouldn't be grounds for removal. "I'm doing this for the Inquisition," Cullen demanded. "I swore I would give everything I had to this cause. That I would give as much to the Inquisition as I gave to the Order. To the Chantry." Royoc only looked at him in pity. His brows low and Cullen knew he was looking for an excuse to get rid of him. Someone who would fold to his demands. He took a breath. "I've asked Seeker Cassandra to look after me. To keep an eye on me. I will remove myself when she deems it worthy."

Royoc arched a brow at this. Cassandra, trained to evaluate and take out Templars, will be his watchdog. Not him. A part of Cullen wanted to smirk at the Inquisitor's incapability to remove him. But he took a deep breath. "If you think it's best." His voice softer than Cullen's ever heard it.

"I do."

He gave a nod. "I would caution against too much stress, but I doubt you'll listen." Royoc swallowed and looked him over. "I am concerned" he stated bluntly. He breathed again, looking over the mountains in his quarters. "How are you feeling?"

"I'll endure." He repeated, telling himself more than the Inquisitor.

"That's not what I asked," Royoc stated. Cullen watched Royoc's eyes rove over him as if to see any physical sign of weakness. Maker, here's hoping he didn't see his right arm was throbbing like it was in a vice grip.

The door to the Inquisitor's quarters was slammed open and both men turned to see it. Cullen drew his blade and moved to keep Royoc behind him.

"Hope you're decent, Inquisi-" Dorian climbed the stairs with a smile, only to frown when he looked at the two men. "Damn."

Cullen arched a brow but lowered his weapon when the room became filled with Dorian, Leliana, Josephine, Bull, and the Slayer. Looking at the crowd, and her bored expression, he could only assume they were here for her. He scowled at Uthreida, who not only didn't even register it but also kept herself halfway hidden between the mage and the Spymaster. Each was speaking over the other, minus the Slayer, who remained silent. "What is the meaning of this?"

Dorian waved a hand to make the others stop, neglecting they stopped when Cullen spoke. He flashed a charming smile to Cullen, then Royoc before taking a step forward from the group. "Commander, do you remember Uthreida's travel journal that you wanted me to decipher?"

Cullen looked over the crowd that was forming, then the Slayer herself. So that's what this is about. "Vaguely." He stated offhandedly.

Dorian turned to look at her for a second, then beamed at Cullen. "Well, I have discovered that our Slayer here has a very unique talent."

Cullen arched an annoyed brow at her. "Another one? Aren't you hitting a limit at this point?" She gave a halfhearted shrug at the comment.

Dorian smirked. "Inquisitor, she's a human lexicon."

Cullen exchanged a look of concern with the Inquisitor. But it was Royoc who spoke. "You don't say."

"It's marvelous really," Dorian spoke with his flamboyant hand gestures. "As you can see, each of us can speak, read, and understand at least two languages: our native homeland and common. However, Lady Uthreida here can understand all of them."

Cullen looked at her with a squinted suspicion. "You don't say." At least she has the audacity to look at him this time. Her eyes portrayed annoyance, but the way she crossed her arms, hiding her hands, indicated that she was nervous. She wasn't wearing her armor or weapons. Whatever she was nervous about, she did it unarmored.

"Right, here's the interesting bit. It doesn't just stop at the current or modern languages of today. She was able to translate the ancient elven that Solas has stored away. But, here's where it gets interesting."

Cullen looked back at the mage. "Here?"

"Yes" Dorian continued, "she can only speak common and not any other language because all of the linguistic information that goes through her is somehow translated into her own common tongue. Isn't that fascinating?"

Cullen looked over to see Royoc just as confused as he felt. "Fascinating." Royoc's tone was bland as he watched Dorian speak.

Cullen rolled his eyes. This woman is becoming a bane to his existence. "What does any of this have to do with deciphering her journal?"

"Simple Commander." Dorian beamed. "The journal cannot be deciphered."

"Beg your pardon?" Cullen asked with an edged tone as he looked at Uthreida again.

"Half of the battle with linguistics is the ability to hear the language in order to create the standard alphabet that's being used. However, because we don't know her language, as her voice is somehow magically translating, all we can hear is our own common."

Royoc shook his head as if hoping what he said just made sense. "Speaking of speaking common, Dorian. In simpler text, what are you trying to say?"

Dorian threw his head back and gave an annoyed sound. "The journal cannot be deciphered because, to us, she doesn't speak her own language. She hears and reads her own, no matter the language set in front of her. But she can't speak our or her language to where we understand or can even hear it. Ergo, she can't speak her own language making the journal and all of her writing indecipherable. Does that make sense?" Cullen arched a brow at the woman who only shrugged again. "Some form of magic is being transpired that she is unconsciously translating our language, both written and spoken, into her own language for comprehension, then is once again translated magically for our comprehension. It's fascinating." He threw his hands up in excitement and smiled.

Cullen felt his eyes drift as a memory of his childhood came screeching into the front of his mind. "All tongue" he felt himself whisper. He felt Royoc looked at him only to clinch his jaw at his spoken words. He looked at Uthreida, expecting her response to be along the lines of her gods. "How is this possible?" Uthreida only gave a vague shrug. Cullen scowled at her again. "You will answer."

She looked heavenwards, dropping her hands to her sides with an audible slap against her thighs. "I don't know."

Royoc held up a hand. "Hang on, wait, go back." He looked at Cullen with a furrowed brow. "What's the 'all tongue?'"

Cullen felt the annoyance of the situation as all eyes turned to him now. He grunted at the turn. "It's an old Fereldan myth. Nothing more."

"Which is?" Royoc arched a brow.

Cullen returned his anger back to the woman who seemed to enjoy making his headaches more constant. "When Andraste was set upon the pyre, the Maker, in anger, took the one true language from the people. It is only when man can work together to overcome all obstacles, will the one true language of his light retun to the people. Like I said, a myth."

A silent moment befell the room until Dorian cleared his throat. "Right. Look, I know this looks...odd, but I think a demonstration is in order, yes. Inquisitor Royoc, you speak Antivan and Orleasian, yes? Say something." Royoc arched a brow. "Anything."

Royoc looked around the room with a loud exhale. "Las manzanas crecen en los arboles."

Eyes turned to her, but Uthreida didn't speak until Doran elbowed her gently in the arm. She rolled her eyes. "Apples grow on trees."

Dorian looked to the two men with excitement, his arms waved at her only to see them unamused. Dorian rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. "Now, say something to The Commander, I'm assuming you don't know Antivan, but don't tell him what it means. Slayer." Uthreida covered her ears and closed her eyes uneuthatically.

Royoc looked around the room again and found some muse. He leaned into Cullen and whispered "Trago." Cullen tried the word. "Your accent is atrocious." He nodded to Dorian who tapped Uthreida to remove her hands.

Cullen arched a brow. "Trago."

Utherida arched a confused brow. "Traaaago?"

"See?" Dorian looked at them.

Royoc crossed his arms. "Sorry, I don't understand."

"My apologies, what was the word?"

"Trago." Royoc stated, still unamused.

"Oh" Uthreida smirked with a snap. "Drink."

Royoc pulled back slightly, but Dorian only smiled. "See? Here's where the magic gets tricky. If the individual knows what they're saying, she can translate. If they don't know," He pointed at Cullen, "she doesn't know. As Varric pointed out, it even goes as far as cyphered texts from the merchant's guilds. It somehow uses the individual's own capabilities of comprehension to be translated. It's absolutely marvelous."

Cullen scoffed and cut his hand across the air. "Illusionary magic."

Dorian's look of childhood delight vanished in a moment and was replaced with the obvious offense. "Like we haven't already ruled that out. Tell me, Templar, what magic is being pulled from the Fade right now? Hmm?"

Cullen pushed his aura out and didn't feel any straining or pulling from the Fade. He looked at her with more skepticism. "How is this possible?"

Dorian clapped his hands. "Who wants to see even more interesting magic? Pass me that book."

Royoc looked at the desk behind him. Dorian motioned for one, but Royoc only shifted a few books to a blue one. He flipped it open for Cullen to see it was in Anders. His eyes caught on a single word, Glofitenstligen. Cullen felt himself smirk as Royoc walked to pass it to Dorian.

Dorian flipped it open to a random page and handed it to her. "Watch her lips as she reads. Commander, if you want, you may smite the area, but I think you'll find you won't have to. Now, you have to look closely, otherwise, you'll miss it."

Cullen smote the area causing the two mages to bend over slightly as their magic was forcefully removed. Dorian looked annoyed while Uthreida looked like she was expecting it. Licking her lips, she read a full page of Anders and translated it into Common. She tripped a few times over a few words of names and places. But as she read, Cullen noticed that her lips didn't always match with what she was saying. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up as he became entranced with what she said didn't match with what she was saying.

When she finished the page, Dorian looked at the two. "See? Marvelous. As we've noticed, proper nouns don't translate with her, but others do. Again, it's all about the intent of the individual speaking or writing. Bull pointed out there is a forest in Par Vollen called 'many trees' but she translated the Qunlat's actual name of the forest when he was referring to the forest. Why am I the only one fascinated by this?"

Royoc took a step back as if off-balanced by the situation before him. "It's a lot to take in."

Cullen looked at her and shook his head. "Dorian, knowing blood magic can alter minds, can it also be used to implant information as well?"

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Even if that were the case, which it's not, the fact that she can translate ancient texts is invaluable."

"Precisely, invaluable. Especially in Tevinter."

Dorian gave a hard sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Commander, I know you want an easy answer, but as a mage who's been forced to be around blood magic all my life," he shook his head slowly, "this isn't the case. No magic is being pulled. Cole has confirmed she's not possessed. There's no trail of mystical capabilities tied to her." Dorian heaved an exhausted breath. "We've been at this for three days trying to figure this out. We've asked three Templar Knight Captains, four mages of differing schools, Cassandra, and now you to look into this. The fact remains, no one can tie demonic or blood magic attachment to her. This ability is simply, our illustrious dragon slayer. Who can only speak in common and write in her native language."

Cullen arched a brow at the last statement. "Convenient."

"I'll say" Dorian chuffed. "Cuts down our need for scholars to transcribe what we find in the field."

"No" Cullen reiterated. "Convenient that she can only write in her foreign language. A language that is akin to the Avvar but not theirs."

"Which stands to reason, if her writing is only-"

Cullen shook his head at these games. His tolerance for the situation reaching its peak. "She can control what she writes, Dorian." His tone harsher than what he was intending, but still made his point. "She obviously let it slip she knew what you were saying in Tevene and had to come clean. Do you deny it?" He turned to look at her to confess but only found her looking bored. And realized that her eyes were glassy, starting to tinge with red. "Are you drunk? Again?"

Uthreida gave a vague shrug. "Does it matter?" Dorian turned to look at her. It must have been one of concern as she smiled slightly. "I'm not drunk." She gave a playful wink at him and turned her attention back to Cullen.

Cullen lowered his brows at her with a sneer of contempt when he looked at her again. The red in her eyes, her clinched, hiding hands, her tensed shoulders. She's not drunk. She's on the verge of tears. Cullen internally groaned. If what Dorian is saying is true, that would mean that she's afraid of losing her home, culture, and independence. While she carried it bravely, she looked like every other mage that was brought to the Circle. She looked defeated but too proud to admit it. Cullen could imagine how she must feel, provided it was true. If not, he was playing right into her hand. He took a controlling breath, sweeping all of his emotions off the table, and resumed the skeptic look at her, waiting for the overt lie to spew.

Royoc took the moment of silence as he looked at the room. A smile spreading across his face. "I look around this room and realize something. That we, as people, from all walks of life, from many different countries, different cultures, saw the Breech and wanted to do what was right. That we are able to set aside our own differences to achieve a common good. To leave behind the old thoughts of borders, to protect and unite all peoples. That as more time will pass, we are becoming legion. We can build and grow to become a unified force of peace and prosperity for the people. No longer held back by the means that were once used to divide us. Thank you, Uthreida. For helping me see this." He looked down at her and genuinely smiled. However, Cullen noticed that she was the one looking at him with mild suspicion. Royoc smirked through it anyway. "Dorian, Bull, can you give us the room?" His request was an earnest one.

Cullen watched as Dorian places a hand on her shoulder before he departs, a lingering look between the two. Uthreida smirked at him, playful, hopeful. But as soon as his back turns, her smile falls into its natural determined look at Cullen.

Royoc waited until the door had shut before slowly approaching her. "Do you truly not know what causes this?"

Uthreida took a breath and let it blow out. "No. But if I had to guess, you're not going to like my theory."

Cullen pursed his lips. "Allow me to guess, rhymes with 'gods'?" She gave a confirmatory look at him that he scoffed at. "Absolute lunacy" he muttered under his breath.

Liliana stepped forward, standing to Uthreida's back. "Commander, I over sought a majority of Dorian studies and I'm inclined to agree with him."

"Of course you are." Cullen crossed his arms, waiting on her next statement of defiance.

Liliana had the courtesy to at least smirk at him. "In light of recent revelations, I think her skills and aptitudes would be best used for areas other than simple dragon slaying."

Even looking at his back, Cullen could tell Royoc was intrigued by the idea as he ran a hand over his chin. "Such as?" he gave a mild flair of his wrist as he spoke.

Josephine rushed forward before Liliana could say whatever she was smirking about. "I will be quick to admit that my Tevine is, poor to nonexistent. Having the Slayer with me could help relations with other countries."

"But she apparently can't speak or write in the other languages." Cullen's tone cut down her request. "Of what use could she possibly be?"

Josephine looked up as if to find an answer to the question while she rotated a wrist. In her lack of an answer, Liliana supplied one. "Agreed. Combined with her skills in stealth, I think she would make an excellent addition to my agents."

Cullen's full attention turned to the Spymaster. He lowered his brows trying to make sense of what she said. He had seen her operate in the field, and while she did move silently she…was trained…in stealth. Makers breath. He looked at Uthreida who only looked at her in the same confusion.

Royoc gave a slight head tilt at the new information. "Stealth?"

"My agents have watched her sneak into the northern watchtower while evading the entire guard rotations."

Cullen's anger was renewed as he looked at the Slayer who had the decency to at least look like she was irritated for being outed by the Spymaster. She was forbidden to go there as the catapult was on that tower and he didn't want her to get any ideas. With her her head thrown back, staring at the ceiling, he went for her throat. Figuratively. "I specifically forbade you to go-"

"I was just looking at the stars"

"Now I have to completely deconstruct to find any sabotage-"

"It's the only tower that has a complete unobstructed view of the sky-"

"Enough." Royoc barked over the two. "You two have your marriage squabbles somewhere else." Cullen only grunted as he looked at the woman. Her thick nose curled in a sneer at him. Royoc took a breath, running his hand through his hair. "Who trained you in stealth?"

Utherida kept her eyes on Cullen as she took a long pause while sucking her teeth. "You pick up skills when you traipse through caves, ancient burial sites, and bandit hideouts." She finally offered him a fake smile.

Liliana arched a brow. "Are you telling me you learned how to evade guards by learning how to evade bandits?"

Uthreida bobbed her head as if it was a long story she didn't have time to tell. "It's a culmination of different skills learned by different people."

Royoc sighed. It was becoming obvious that he was growing tired of the half-answers as much as Cullen was. "I'm going to ask one last time. Who trained you in stealth?"

Uthreida looked him over, her jaw jutting at the direct question. She must have seen his lack of patience on his face because she took a deep breath. "Thieves Guild."

"You're a thief." Cullen accused, taking a step away from her.

"Not anymore." She stated defiantly, cutting her hand across the air. "I've left it behind me."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "No, now you just use those skills to sneak into places you're not supposed to."

"That's not who I am anymore. The skills I have learned have aided me, aye, but-"

"Inquisitor" Cullen demanded, "How long are we going to pretend like she isn't a threat? How long will you overlook her 'talents' and 'skills' until she cripples us into the ground?"

"I have no reason-"

"People like you don't need a reason." Cullen's tone shutting her down.

Uthreida barred her teeth ready to cut him down, but Royoc yelled over their impending argument. "Enough. I will not say it again. Commander Cullen" He turned on his heel, looking the Cullen in the eye with an oppositional stance, "Back. Off."

"No, no." Uthreida waived a vulgar hand in his direction. "Let him. Let him tell me how he's never had to watch his family starve. Never had to-"

"Enough" Royoc rubbed his brows and muttered under his breath "Maker preserve me." He looked at the two of them. "We get it, the honeymoons over. We got it. But this vitriol between the two of you needs to end. It is dividing our Soldiers, dividing our position, and further, dividing our Inquisition. I'm not asking you two to see eye to eye on everything, but can you shut up long enough to accomplish the mission? Specifically, this task at hand." The slight growl in his voice made Cullen lower a brow. Royoc rarely lost his temper like this. He's always been known for his level head and stoic disposition. Inquisitor took another deep breath as he shoved his own feelings aside to see the problems at large. He shook his head, breathing, then looked at Uthreida. "You were trained as a thief?"

Uthreida looked at Cullen, expecting him to interrupt again. He crossed his arms, watching her silently. When he didn't, she looked away. Her expression was one of aged personal regret. "Once."

"Why did you leave it behind?"

Uthreida looked at Cullen again, the same expectations presented. She crossed her arms and sighed. "I was supposed to be a hero of the people. Thieves aren't heroes. So I was allowed to leave, to become what I needed to be for the people."

Royoc looked her over and nodded. He heaved a heavy sigh, his hands on his hips. "Where else have you snuck into in the hold?"

"Larder? Kitchens?" She looked at the group and shrugged. "I eat when I can't sleep."

Royoc chuckled at her answer. "Any of our quarters or offices?"

"No."

"Why?"

She lowered her face in a theatrical expression of obvious confusion. "Because the information I want, you don't have. So I openly peruse the library for a deeper understanding of the land." She looked at the four faces and sighed. "Look, none of you know where my home is. Why would I care about movements, or no offense, whatever Lady Josephine does, in a land I don't care about?"

He tilted his head. "If we fail, King Alistair won't help you find your homeland."

She threw a hand up in confusion. "Am I breaking into your offices or not? No one has – Oh," she stated with a look of a deeper understanding of her situation. "I see what you're asking. No, I'm not stealing information. No, I'm not breaking into offices to sabotage correspondences. No, I have no desire to watch the Inquisition fail."

"But you have no care for this land?" Royoc stated, Cullen could hear the smirk on his lips. She shook her head with a painful truth on her face. "You have no care for what the Inquisition is doing or trying to accomplish?"

"Wouldn't say that." She shrugged. "I know what you're doing is important. I believe in what you're doing. What you're trying to accomplish. But I also know I can't play an active role in it. I'm not from this land. I'm not of her people. So, I play my part to allow you the chance to succeed. To allow you to succeed on you're own. If I did take an active role, I would mold this land like it is on Tamerial. But even she has her own problems. More importantly, I would just be seen as a usurper for all the nations that you're trying to cajole to your side."

"Cajole?" He asked with a chuckle.

Uthreida, in a rare moment of honesty, looked him up and down. "I've seen your kind before. You're hungry. You revel in the fact that the nations look to you now and will allow you to do as you see fit. Such kind and honeyed words you have. But be careful, Inquisitor, hunger incites greed."

Royoc stiffened his back at the woman. "My words aren't 'honeyed'." His words pointed, but polite.

She smirked and tilted her head. "Just poisoned then?"

Cullen took a step forward. "My apologies, Inquisitor. I'll have her sent to the stockades."

Royoc held a hand up to him to stop but thoughtfully paused. "That won't be necessary." Royoc looked her over and took a loud breath. "Your growing list of aptitudes is becoming a concern. And the malice between you and Commander Cullen is becoming toxic. King Alistair gave you to us to protect you from those who would use your skills for the ill of the land and people. I'll admit, I'm uncertain of what to make of a...dragon thief. But I cannot let you leave unsupervised and unaccountable even if your presence threatens our lives. Or the organization. So...what to do now?"

"Throw her in a cell?" Cullen suggestion was met with three sets of annoying female gazes.

Royoc ignored his advice as he did on the first day. "It would appear that you are sought after here. So, I will let you decide. You can help Josephine with missives and work with her with the nobles. Or, you can assist Liliana with spy work which would include shadow work that you're probably more comfortable with. Or, provided you two can find a way to communicate without beating each other, you can continue to slay dragons as you are."

Uthreida arched a skeptical brow. "You would change the contract?"

"I would if it would mean to ease tensions between our forces." He stated with a nod.

She looked him over, then looked away in thought. "I will need time to consider."

"Understood. You have three days. However, as you are currently without a master" he looked at Cullen, then back at her, "until such a decision is made, you will be supervised. I'll have a small party escort you to your room. The castle is yours but keep in mind that you will be watched. I suggest you think upon what your status in the Inquisition will be and how will it benefit King Alistair in your favor."

Liliana gave a slight bow. "I'll send for a few agents, Inquisitor."

Cullen shook his head. "Two Templars would be best. Between her movements and magic-"

"Her movements are the exact reason my agents would be better suited." Cullen clicked his jaw shut at the Spymaster. She had a point, but it was personal now.

"Lady Josephine" Royoc raised his chin to her. "Please escort Lady Uthreida to the roost until Liliana arrives."

Josephine gave a polite nod, looking at the Slayer with patience. Uthreida looked at the group with suspensions but nodded with a sigh. She turned and walked with Josephine to the door. Cullen clenched his jaw. Even without armor, without weapons, the Slayer was dangerous. "Inquisitor, that may not-"

"Lady Josephine will be fine." He said quietly as the door shut behind them. Cullen looked over to see that Liliana flashed fear in her eyes, but didn't react as he did to Josephine's imamate danger. Royoc looked at the room as if in deep thought. He finally returned to his desk and retrieved the glass of wine he was working on when Cullen entered. He swirled the drink a few times before sipping. "Liliana, I would like more information on Saarebas masks. How do they work or is it just a statement piece? Specifically, how to fit them for humans."

Liliana and Cullen exchanged looks of confusion before looking at him. "A mask?"

Royoc kept his back turned as he looked over the mountains. "Her voice is the most dangerous part of her. If we can silence that, the Templars can sever her magic, and the agents can take her out. If she really wants to go home, she won't fight us. We need to figure out how to silence her and I fear a gag may not be very effective."

"Inquisitor," Liliana licked her lips before speaking her concerns. "You allied with the mages. To have her in a Saarebas mask could send the wrong image. Especially as they fear the Qun."

"Then let's hope we don't need it but have it just in case." He smirked. "A special mission for Dagna, if you will."

Liliana's eyes faded for only a moment in thought but nodded at him all the same. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Royoc smiled softly. "Please ensure your agents are in constant view of her. That'll be all." Liliana gave a courteous bow and turned on her heel. Her steps barely making a sound as she left. At her exit, Royoc took a deep breath and looked over at Cullen. He eyed him for a moment, then tisked in shame. "Have you ever broken a wild horse, Commander?" He asked, then smirked to himself. "What am I saying, of course you haven't." Cullen let his face fall at the comment but didn't speak even as he arched an annoyed brow. "The trick is a long rope and a pin. Tie the rope off. You let the horse buck and bite with the rope around its neck. Let it fight. Let the fear overcome it. Once it gets to a certain point of exhaustion, that rope tightens, and the horse submits. That's when you put the bridle on. After that, trust begins with training. "Cullen had scrunched his face in confusion. What in the Makers name was he going on about? Royoc looked him over again. Cullen reset his face quickly to show nothing. Royoc widened his eyes in annoyance for half a second. "Skyhold is the pin. This decision is the rope. She may buck, she may bite, she may fight, but at a certain point, the Slayer will submit."

Cullen took a deep breath. Circling back to this again? Cullen checked his tone before speaking to ensure that his usual grievance of the woman didn't spill over. "I've given her plenty of space with minimal oversight-"

"But no control."

"You can't control that." Cullen flicked his hand to the only door in the chambers.

Royoc arched a brow but drank his wine before speaking. "And that's why you're about to lose her. Liliana and Josephine both have interpersonal skills that you apparently lack." Cullen scoffed at the remark. Royoc only sighed again, shaking his head at the Commander. He held his voice soft but firm. "Shouting at her won't work considering her shouts are louder and far more dangerous than yours." Cullen crossed his arms and grunted. He didn't want to admit it, but it's also the reason he keeps his distance. "She will submit to the Inquisition. This is why I'm not afraid of what she thinks she can do. You've got a fifty-fifty shot of keeping her. I suggest you figure out how to communicate and control her."

"I don't want her. " Cullen stated, his voice was a roar of pent-up rage and agitations of the woman that, even now, sounded like the bleatings of a child who wasn't getting his way.

Royoc heard it just as clearly as he did. The pathetic rantings of a man at the edge of his own sanity. He smirked. "So you'll let me slay dragons?" Cullen jutted his jaw to argue, but only snapped it shut. Royoc stood there in silence, letting it envelop the two of them. For all her grieving, she had some use. One that he didn't want the Inquisitor to needlessly throw his life away on dragon hunting when he was the only one who could close the rifts. Royoc swirled his wine again. "She said it herself. She's a tool. She's expendable. I'm not." He looked at Cullen with a cooled rage. "I suggest you figure it out."

Cullen rolled his eyes. The woman's prowess is both a gift and a danger. How long was he going to overlook it? How long was he going to blind himself to the truth? She's not some ordinary mage. She's loud, brazen, and worse of all, proud. No, that's not the worse. "She's undisciplined."

"Then discipline. " Royoc retorted quickly. As if it was that easy. As if it was that simple. There is no controlling her. "Long rope, Commander" Cullen thought of a noose. Is that what he's doing? Giving her a long rope to hang herself when she's no longer useful? Cullen lowered his brows. It would be effective, but that's not how he wants to lead. That's not the kind of leadership the Inquisition needs. "Once she learns that pulling the rope does nothing, she'll follow. With patience, you'll either have a horse you trust with your life or the best cut of meat you've ever tasted." Is that what he's doing to him? He was going to let the Lyrium withdraw create Cullen's own hell before pulling the rope and replacing him with someone else more agreeable? Makers breath, he was power-hungry. "Anything else?"

Cullen tried to keep the look of realization off his face when he spoke but found himself breathless at the ideas that were crossing his mind. Surrender, or die. "No, Inquisitor."

He gave a single nod and turned to face him fully. "I'll have a talk with Cassandra. Replacing the General of my forces for medical concerns is my position, not hers." Royoc looked Cullen over quickly and relented. "But I will take her advice into account." Honeyed words, Cullen thought. Maybe that woman's not half as crazy as he thought. "Dismissed."

Cullen felt himself walking away in a dream-like state. Was Uthreida crazy, or had he never seen it before? Was Royoc power-hungry or-no. No. He helped all those people in the Hinterlands. He selflessly gave everything to the Inquisition. Willing to risk his own life in Haven. He did it all without complaint. He…also recruited mages, who have universal magic with little oversight from the Templars. He also was building a reputation across all of Thedas. He also knew exactly what to say in every situation and rarely let his emotions get the better of him. He had a way of controlling people. A way to sway them to his side by using information. And judging from his countless uses of Josephine and Liliana in the war room…

Is the Inquisitor any more dangerous than the Dragon Slayer?

Were the roles reversed, how often would she use Cullen for bloodshed? Or for peace?

Is that what he's building the army for? A war? Not this one, obviously, given the lack of movements. Is he keeping them hidden? Why? What comes after this war?