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.

20. Chapter 20

A/N: To whom may care. Whew. Almost a year now and, ugh. Looking at math…or rather…haphazard outline that these two idiots totally ruined, we have like, 4 chapters left. Yahoo! Misery almost complete.

---

Uthreida was escorted to Cullen's office. Great. This again. This ice wall between them. Again.

She entered and saw Cullen's irate look. It all seemed so familiar. He nodded to the escort to leave.

A heavy silence filled the office. The awkwardness of last night on both of their faces. And in her social awkwardness, spoke. "Blessings."

He arched a brow and pulled a piece of parchment from his desk. "By his majesty, King Alistair, Lady Uthreida Storm-Blade is requested to accompany his majesty in negotiations of trade in the Kings Palace in Denerim. Her Ladyship should - this is ridiculous." He stated, ripping the parchment from his face.

Uthreida chuckled it off. "He's just trying to make the show of trade. It's fine. Probably discussing goats or something for-"

"To a fake land."

Uthreida paused. Disbelief filling her as she looked at his outbursts. "Ha?" Her tone demanding an apology from the man. He only snarled with a curve on his nose. She scoffed as she looked at him. Is he serious? She licked her lips with a shameful shake of her head. Her core heating at his betrayal and questions of her integrity. Her tongue feeling each of her molars as she looked at him. "Really? You're doing this now? After everything you've seen and-"

"The propagation that he even is willing to, let alone-"

"Does this have anything to do with last night?" He dropped his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest. Uthreida poped her jaw in his silence. Another scoff of disbelief at his actions. Her heart pumping in anger and her lungs forcing her to remain calm. She tried to speak but was too dumbfounded and angered to form words. She shook her head to clear it. "This better be coming from a place of jealousy." He remained silent with his arms tightening across his chest. She bit her lip in anger at him. "Is it jealousy?"

"No."

She wanted to smile. She wanted to let pride fill and slowly release of her anger her at his quick retort. But he said no. He called her a liar. She had to force a deep breath to not break him. She took another, reminding herself he was needed alive. "Valok," she bit it back. He ended it. "Commander," He only tightened his crossed arms. "You are acting like a child."

"Me?" He demanded as he rounded the desk.

"Aye."

He stood before her, huffing in anger. His jaw clenching as he looked down at her. Uthreida held her chin up to him demanding he move. "Do you know blood magic?"

Uthreida paused at his words with a dropped stomach, but lowered a brow at his low tone. "Why would you ask that?"

"Answer the question."

She arched a brow. She couldn't lie or risk losing her power. But his catch-all phrase was too vague to describe what actual vampiric power was. And because he was content with the ignorance, she couldn't respond without a witch hunt. She took a step back and redirected. "So, Templar, it begins. After all, I must be since you couldn't finish what you started." Cullen looked away, pain and embarrassment in his eyes. The guilt racking her core as she stood taller against him. But she sighed as his pain overwhelmed her. "I told you that I understood." She said softly. "That it was alright. You've told me what you endured. Don't push me away because you're embarrassed then resort to blackmail in anger to keep your secrets."

He snored but kept his eyes on the ground. "Do you know blood magic?"

Uthreida snarled her nose in disgust at him. "I had forgotten how stubborn you can be." He met her eyes. Slowly removing his glove. He held his bare hand out to her. She saw his hand and the determination in his eyes. "So this is how it is?" She pulled at the fingers of her gauntlet. "We need to talk about your vague classifications of magic." She held her hand palm up for him. "You shouldn't ask questions you don't want nor understand."

He held her wrist and took a breath. "Do you-" this voice caught in his throat and he had to try again. "Do you know blood magic?"

Uthreida looked at his face. He didn't or couldn't look at her. "Where is this coming from, Commander?"

"Please, just-" he turned his face further from her. His hands shaking holding hers.

Uthreida sighed as she looked at him. "I see someone has been talking to you. Offering threats. Like I warned." He took a deep breath to calm himself. She looked away, matching his sigh. "Depends on what you call blood magic."

"Magic that requires blood."

"All magic requires payment. Be more specific."

"Summoning demons."

"I know simple conjuration spells that summon Atrinochs or lesser deadreamora but does not require blood. Be more specific."

"You can summon demons?" He asked with wide eyes.

"I just said. But summoning the easy part. It's the binding that tricky."

He looked her over quickly. "Can you control people using their blood?"

"No." He took a relieved breath. "I use a dragon shout. No blood involved." He looked at her with worry as his jaw slackened. "Do you want to see it?"

"No." He took half a step back from her. "How-how do we know if you're controlling someone without blood magic?"

She snorted a laugh. "Rather the question in life, isn't it?"

"Stop being cute." He ordered. He shook his head. "Will you, have you, are you, using the pain of others, sacrificing others to fuel your own ambition and power?"

She looked at him. Her brow curled as memories of holding him through the night. How he offered the same to her. To ease their own suffering. Knowing the fears that he asks now. Asking if she caused more unnecessary pain onto others hurt deeper than any betrayal. "Cullen, I am Dovahkiin. I am the dragon hunter of prophecy. The power I receive from dragons is inherent to my nature. But, it is not for sport. It is not for the sole purpose of glory. To us to protect. The power is a byproduct. As is the fear." She said softly.

"Do you use the life of others to fuel your magic's?"

She blinked slowly. Hating the truth but fearing the pain of a comforting lie. "Dragons souls imbue me with power. So, aye. I suppose I do. But even you have advocated not saving them and then scorn when I do. Is that not proof enough for you?"

He bit back his lips fighting a wavering chin as he pulled his eyes off of her. "Are you…controlling me?"

Her anger disappeared as she saw his fear. His history. Her heart broke as she saw his willingness to believe it. She fisted her hand. Wanting to comfort him, but couldn't. He walked away. He left. She should frighten him. Scare him. Watch him kneel. But her heart stopped her. And demanded mercy. "If you can question it, question me, you know the answer. No, Cullen. You are free."

He paused. His heavy breathing showed her what he was thinking. Fighting his training, his instincts right now. He closed his eyes, his hand going from her wrist to her hand. His clenching jaw and pained expression. "Forgive me." He squeezed from a tight throat. "I…just" he sighed. Pulling her bare knuckles to his lips and kissed. "I-"

Uthreida smiled and stepped towards him. "I understand. What you've had to endure, your hesitation is…understandable." He moved so her hand touched his face. "Are you alright?"

He finally smiled softly. "Better, but" he sighed. He clenched his jaw. Something crossed his eyes that she couldn't place.

She stepped closer and moved her hands over his neck. "We knew they would say this. They would make us question this. Royoc is afraid of us. And now sends his minions to poison us. To divide us. Do not let him." She tried to sound strong but to her, it sounded like a plea.

He swallowed his fear, his fingers going back to her wrist. "Are you a blood mage?" His voice was tight like he didn't want the answer.

She took a breath and he looked at her in her silence. "That depends on your definition."

"Yes or no?"

"To my people, no."

"And mine?"

She bit her lip. His standards. His understanding. His limited perceptions. Her jaw quivered as she met his eyes. "Aye." He took a deep breath and stepped back. "I do not use the blood of others for ambition or power." Her throat tightened like she was being choked. She lied. And her lungs were forced out of the air and she couldn't breathe. She held his hand tighter in pain. Her knees grew weak as her lungs constricted. "Lied" she squeezed out. Her lungs filled and she took two deep, sweet breaths to catch herself. She looked at Cullen who had a look of disgust on his face. She knew what he saw, what he thought. He forced her hand off of him and took another step from her. Swallowing his fears. Uthreida lowered her brows and sighed. "Cullen-"

"You-" he took a pained breath as his own face contorted. "You lied to me. This whole time."

"Cullen-"

"Silence." He barked over her. Steeling himself and looking her over with a dead gaze. "Enough."

"Dragons, Cullen. I need the dragon's for-"

"I will not hear any more."

"Listen-" his pained amber eyes, marred in betrayal made her swallow back her statement.

He huffed deeply. He snorted as he looked away from her. "How long have you been lying to me?"

Uthreida stood taller, pushing his rejection down, and holding her chin high. Letting anger and resentment fill her. "Do not stand there and act like this is something you didn't already know. You're not that daft. Certainly, you must have figured it out by now. What I am." His jaw clenched as he looked at her. She closed the distance with her eyes set. "You've known this whole time. You chose to ignore. Because I have yet to do anything that would cause concern to you." She seethed at him. "You ignored because you know what evil looks like. How it moves. So why do you question this now? Do you fear what the ignorant masses will shout? Look at me." His golden eyes met hers as he kept his head bowed. "You know me. Far more than I should've allowed. You know me, Cullen." She met his eyes and saw him pull away from her. Her heart broke at the idea of losing him again but too foolishly and stubbornly independent to show it. "Know me." She whispered to him. Her voice cracked as she looked at him.

He lowered his gaze. Silence filled the office as he turned his back to her. "You leave this afternoon for Vigils Keep."

Uthreida closed her eyes and forced herself to calm against the break in her heart. She lost him.

"The Grey Wardens broke the last stronghold of the red Templars in Ferelden and noticed a dragon. You are to report to them, kill the dragon, and then report to Denerim to entertain the King." He spat.

"Seems rather foolish to send what you call a blood mage to a King. Wouldn't you agree, Commander." Her nose twitching in anger.

He turned and she looked up with an expressionless mask. "I am to leave tomorrow for the Shrine of Dumat with a stop in Val Royox. So be quick. The Inquisitor is to start his assault into the Arbors when we return."

For all the things she wanted to say, the only thing that didn't stick to her throat was "Aye."

Cullen stepped towards her with the missives of her objectives. It was over. He was done. This was over. Wherever secrets he kept, whatever he was planning to betray, was on his mind now. And how willing she was to take his blade into her gut.

She took the reports, read over them before stowing them in her pouches. She looked up at Cullen who held the same stoic expression she did. "I do know you, Utha." He said sternly. "I know you can't lie. I know that what you believe to be the truth is not the whole story. I know myself well enough to know that while I am jealous of the rumors of you and the king, I do not blame you for last night's events." He took a deep breath but his expression didn't change. "You know me." His pause as he searched her eyes weakened her. "Swear to me you are not a blood mage per our definition."

She could already feel her throat tighten at the sentence.

Scared to lose touch and feeling. Trapped in blue rapids and leaving the shore. Scared the memories of the night will leave. Truth cuts away the lies.

"Dragons aside, I am not a blood mage per Thedasion definitions."

"Dragons included, there are stories of magisters learning blood magic from dragons."

"It's not in their nature." Then thought of Durnehviir. "Usually."

He looked at her with a question but let it go. "The point still stands, you use dragons for blood magic."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "How do you still not understand? It's not the kopraan I need. It is the zii, the living soul of my adversary-."

"All the more reason-"

"That you throw me to." She said over him and watched him silence his argument. "To protect your men. On your missions. With your supplies." She dropped the pointing finger and stepped back. "You have revengers like Thram who, literally drink the blood of dragons-"

"Revers."

"Whatever. And still, question me? People who live under dragons protection like your cultist and you question me? Your war is against a tyrannical priest, and you question me? Still?" She shook her head and backed off. "You have no idea what those priests did. What they were capable of. But if you so prefer, perhaps I can show you what I am capable of." She fisted the orders and handed them back to him. "Take it. Let me end this war. Our army will be the most feared in all of Nirn. Cities will surrender at even the whisper of Inquisition." Her tone lowered with a growl. He leaned back, his eyes evaluating with a sense of fear. "Take my shackles, Cullen. Release me, and I will give you the world." She watched with a smirk as he swallowed. Her smile died as she stood taller. "Do not. Question me. Again."

He rocked back on his heels and took a breath. "Questioning you proves I'm not controlled."

She stuffed the order again. Rolling her eyes at his lack of a concept. "You, all of you, have a very limited understanding of the world. Do not question my methods or intentions when it is unwarranted."

He arched a brow and unfolded his arms looking down at her. "Your hubris will get you killed." He gave a nod. "Good journey."

Seeing him done with the conversation, she gave a nod and exited. Her orders were in her pocket, and the fear of her death in her mind.

Xxx

"Excuse me." Uthreida lifted a hand to the mage in Warden Armor. The cowl of their hooded cloak to protect them from the rain turned to her. A staff slung across the warden's shoulder. Uthreida gave a soft smile as she pulled her hood back. "We're looking for the Commander of the Grey. I was ordered to report."

The mage looked her over to see the Inquisition banner over her thigh, then Blackwall to her rear, and Micha at her side. The mage pulled back their hood slightly and smiled below a pointed nose. "Is the Commander expecting you?"

"I should hope so." Uthreida pulled the report from a pouch and passed it to him. "Something about a dragon."

The mage warden took the note and read over it quickly. "Ah." He looked up and smiled. "Please" he passed the request back. "Follow me." The mage turned and she looked over her small team. They stepped off with the warden as they closed on the keep. "So," The mage looked down at Micha. "How long?"

"Five years." The dwarf responded.

"And now you've joined the Inquisition?"

"No. They don't much care for wardens. And with Orlais in shambles, figured I'd try Ferelden."

"Well, we're always glad to take on another."

They walked in silence as they entered the fort. The Soldiers of the keep eyed them wearily and she felt Blackwall tense at their movements. "Call me paranoid, but I don't think the keep is copasetic with the Inquisition."

"We're not." The mage said over his shoulder with a smile. Uthreida smirked at Blackwall who grunted. "Something about the unlawful detention of our former commander. I'm sure you understand."

"Former?" Blackwall said with surprise. "Commander Kader? What happened?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, he's fine. Mission from the First Warden."

Blackwall shot her a look and Uthreida shrugged. "So, who's the Warden-Commander now?"

The mage opened the door to the main hall and pulled his hood off. Short blond hair spiking from the rain. "That would be our illustrious temporary Commander and Arl, Nathaniel Howe."

Uthreida stepped in and turned to see Blackwall give a surprised look at the mage with his arm held mid pull of his hood. "Howe?"

"Who?" The mage asked with a smile at, what Uthreida assumed, was a running joke. "Why?" He stepped in the door, holding it open for Blackwall who looked at Uthreida with a brow.

Blackwall gave a cough and entered. "Howe? The previous family of this Arling who…" he let the mage fill it in.

The mage chuckled removing his cloak as they entered the vestibule. "As I said, temporary. The Kings already looking for a replacement and the First Warden is aware of the…implications. Howe's just taking over until official orders are received."

"Right," Blackwall grunted as they walked.

"So" Micha paused, "what's your name?" She asked the mage.

He looked over and smiled. "Warden."

"Warden?" She gave a roll of her hand to make him speak. He only smiled and opened the second set of doors that lead to the main hall.

Uthreida looked to see four braziers lighting the space. Bookshelves, paintings, and a massive keg lined the walls. The mage took a breath. "Wait here. I'll go fetch him."

The three stood silently and in disease as the soldiers passed them. Uthreida moved the cloak to hide the Inquisition banner on her leg slowly and smiled kindly to the soldiers as they passed. None seemed to be wearing the blue. "So, Blackwall, you have an idea what's going on? Why aren't the soldiers wearing" she looked at Micha's blue tabris then back at him.

"They're Arling soldiers. Not wardens."

"Ah." She nodded. "Why don't they like us?"

The mage and a dark-haired, lanky man entered the hall. "I'll explain later," Blackwall said softly and looked up at the approaching wardens.

The dark-haired one gave a polite smile. "Welcome, Inquisition. I am Arl and Warden Commander. Nathaniel Howe. Welcome to Amaranthine. I understand that you-" his eyes shifted to the three of them. "Slay dragons." Uthreida raised a hand and he lowered a brow. "By yourself or is this your team? I was under the understanding it was one person at the cost of eighteen hundred sovereigns."

"Aye." Uthreida smiled but leaned into Blackwall. "How much is that?"

"Roughly," he shrugged, "twelve hundred royals." He grunted.

"Aye." She paused. She was paid eight hundred. Plus tax. Plus profit is…wow, they're greedy. "Having a special for one thousand royals."

The Commander dropped his smile and arched a brow. "I'm starting to question the quality of work." He said deadpanned. He looked over to Micha. "Are you with the Inquisition?"

"Leaving, actually."

"Where are you from?"

"Antiva originally. I've spent the last five years in Orlais."

He nodded. "Terrible business."

"Agreed."

"Adamant?"

"Yes, so was Blackwall."

The Commander looked at Blackwall with a smile. "Blackwall? Erin's old friend?"

"Ah, no." Blackwall cleared his throat quickly.

The Commander chuckled. "I'll admit he's a bit abrasive, but to outright deny is-"

"It's a long story," Blackwall said quickly. "One that actually brought me here."

The Commander arched a brow at Blackwalls ominous tone and looked the three of them over. "Right." He rolled his shoulders and looked at Micha. "I'm sure we can find quarters for the night for all of you. You can be in the warden barracks if you like." He said to Micha.

"Sounds good." The dwarf nodded.

"Oh," Blackwall snapped. "Before I forget, Varric said to tell the Commander that he hopes the blondie is working out for you."

Uthreida looked at him in confusion then saw the dark look pass over the Commander's eyes. The mage behind him smiled. "Varric? How is that old chap these days?"

Blackwall smiled and opened his mouth to speak when his eyes went wide in realization. Uthreida lowered her brows as Blackwall looked down at her. "What did you just do?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her forcefully. "We got to go."

"What just happened?"

"Makers balls, woman. Walk."

"Oh shit" Micha called behind her in delighted glee. Her laugh filled the halls.

"Guards." The Commander bellowed.

The sound of marching plate made Blackwall stop pushing her as both turned to see four soldiers enter the hall around them. Followed by eight more moving to block the exits. Uthreida looked around as her hand went to her axe.

Blackwall slapped her hand off of it and looked between her and the commander that was no longer smirking and the mage that bent his head with a sheepish expression.

"Holy shit" Micha said loudly. She looked at Uthreida with a smile. "You know who that is?" Micha's delighted smile as she pointed to the mage.

Blackwall turned Uthreida to look at him. "We can't be here." He emphasised with a pointed hand and wide eyes.

"But" Uthreida looked at the Commander who was popping his knuckles, "dragon." She said with an awkward smile and hoping this particular arrangement of 'no clue of what's going on right now', would save her as it has before.

Blackwall pinched the bridge of his nose in anger at her. "Lady Rutherford." He announced loudly, turning to see the Wardens. She followed his sight to see the lone mage's eyes go wide and step back as if to run and hide. "We have to go. We can't be here."

"Your friend is right, Warden Blackwall." the Commander took two steps towards them as the mage looked for an out. "The Arling of Amaranthine has already made its payment in an effort to prevent further deaths of our people, soldiers, or wardens. And you, Warden Blackwall, will remain in Vigils Keep to be updated on your orders. When the dragon is slain, your friend my return for you."

Uthreida realized what the Arl was suggesting. Her hand went back to her axe as she looked at the room. The Arling soldiers lined the walls and a few in blue tabris with weapons drawn were watching them.

Blackwall touched her hand and shook his head slowly. "Don't." Uthreida looked about the room and felt the heat of battle rise on her neck. "Slay the dragon, and come back. Do not kill these men needlessly."

"I will not let them take you." She moved, holding Blackwall behind her.

He pushed her shoulder to keep her back. "Then follow the instructions. Go, slay it, and come back. We have our ace if they remit."

Uthreida heard the threat in his voice but had no idea what it meant. She looked to the room and she wanted the fight but would need to fight the entire courtyard and possibly bring the war to the Inquisition. Even then, these people are Ferelden. And with her oath to the king, she couldn't fight. She took a deep breath and removed her hand from her axe.

The Commander took a few more steps towards them. "My men will guide you to the dragon." His silver eyes bled with ambition and hatred as he looked over them. "Captain Garavel, guide the Inquisition dragon slayer to Storms Coast."

"Yes, my lord." Another soldier in red armor appeared from the group.

"Go," Blackwall whispered, standing taller and ready to receive…something. "And for the love of Andraste, don't ride the damn thing again."

She held his arm to make him look at her. "I will come back." Her tone was strong as her eyes went to the commander that just imprisoned Blackwall.

He gave a smile and touched her hand to remove it from him. "I know." He smiled gentler at her. "Stay safe, m'lady."

"Stay alive." She ordered.

The man in red armor stood before her and held a hand for the door. She looked about the room. Micha looked conflicted on who she should side with but Uthreida nodded, letting her know it was okay. This is where Micha wanted to be. Away from the eyes of the Inquisition. Safe with her own people. This is where Blackwall wanted to be. His atonement in hand. She looked at the guard and followed his instructions.

Xxx

She puked. Again.

Garavel gave a sickening look at her as he rowed the boat. "You alright?"

She wanted to laugh, but it only made her more nauseous. Traveling in that tomb with red lyrium and now on choppy waves did nothing for her stomach. Why didn't they just move the damn boat to begin with? There were, after all, several beached on the coast line.

She looked at their destination. Dragon Island. Sounded like a paradise.

She looked at the water below them, focusing on her breathing and the smell of the salty sea air that reminded her of the Sea of Ghosts.

The boat hit land and she was eager to be rid of the boat. She helped Garavel bring it ashore and took a breath.

"Bit late now to ask if you need anything but, here we are." The Captain arched a humorous brow even if his face didn't show any emotions.

She nodded quickly. "Up the hill I take it?"

"Just follow the path." He pointed up the hill and let her go.

She gave a nod and started on her journey. She looked about and saw the beautiful scenery. The sound of crunching bones caught her attention. Black scaled tail made her smile. A dovahlaan. She approached loudly and let it see her. The child turned and growled, showing its teeth and rising its back in aggression. Uthreida held a hand out to calm it. "Drem yol lok, dovahlaan. Zu'u Dovahkiin Uthreida." Its back lowered slightly and she noticed the nubs for wings. Female. She smiled again. "I'm here to speak to your mother. I'd like an alliance."

The dovahlaan's eyes shifted up the mountain but looked at her with a growl. "Kyne Drev ov."

The Peace Thu'um went into the laan and her lip lowered to cover her teeth. She gave a shake in the rain as the thu'um took over. "I'll wait here. Will you tell your mother I wish for tinvaak?"

The laan looked up the hill and began to walk. Uthreida walked behind it and saw three other laan up the hill. Each looked at her and started to snarl. The initial laan rubbed her face to each and each seemed to lose their aggression as it passed. Uthreida looked over to make sure Garavel was a good distance from her so she could work in peace. On the shore, the Captain was sharpening his weapon and seemed unperturbed of the island. She waited on a rock for the laan.

After what felt like an hour, movement from the mountain made her look to see a deep purple dragon with a long neck walk down the path. A drake. Uthreida stood to him and bowed. "Drem yol lok."

The drake stood before her. Its teeth were razors as it leaned into her. He gave a few sniffs at her face and throat. He took a step back. "Drem yol lok." He said. His voice graveled as he spoke. "The Mother will see you."

He turned and Uthreida followed. The drake looked at her as they climbed. "You smell like a dragon, but look mortal."

"I am Dovahkiin."

He gave a guttural grunt. "I have smelled humans that have dragon essence in their blood, but you smell like us." The drake jumped and climbed onto a rock above her. "The title may not be enough to persuade the mother to not feast. I hope you have a good reason."

Uthreida slipped on a rock and tried again. "I wish to seek wisdom."

The drake was silent as he watched her climb. "Wisdom for what?"

She came to a level landing and looked at the drake who stood over her. "I don't know anymore."

He sat silently, something akin to a smile on his lips. "I cannot tell if you are wise enough to know you are not wise, or foolish that you run to a dragon first."

"I'm told it's a thin line." She said with a smile.

The drake gave a chuckle. "Perhaps you are wise." He jumped from his rock and kept climbing around the hill.

Uthreida took the final step and crested the mountain of the island. The drake took a step forward and waited for her. "What's her name?"

"She will tell you if she finds you deserving." Uthreida nodded and walked to the dead trees. The drake stopped and pointed towards the path. "She waits for you. Do not make her wait longer." The drake turned and went through the trees."Mul thu'um nahlot lo." He warned as he disappeared. Strong voices silence lies.

Uthreida took a deep breath of courage and walked the path. She walked and ahead, she could already see the giant of the dragon. She stood as Uthreida exited the trees. The purple and yellow dragon opened her wings and clapped large gusts around her and opened her mouth. Electricity forming in its maw. Uthreida took a deep breath and bowed with her arms wide like wings. "Drem yol-"

The ground rose and electrocuted her. Her body clenched and she dropped to a knee. Uthreida looked up at the dragon who tilted her head at her. "The elder speaks first, Dovahkiin."

Uthreida growled but bowed her head. "Krosis."

The dragon took a step towards her. "Zu'u Vensahmaar. And you?"

"Uthreda."

The dragon smirked. "Overlord push change. Frightening name for those who are unchanging."

"Wind phantom frighten. Also a name of power and illusion."

The dragon nodded. "Well met, Dovahkiin. My laan tell me you wish to tinvaak. What do you want?"

Uthreida looked at the distance and took a step. "May I approach?"

"Is your strum weak?"

Uthreida bit her tongue and decided that shouting at the dragon was all she was going to get. "Have you heard of the Niithilin?"

There were hisses around the area that she assumed came from the hidden drakes and laan. But she didn't see any. Her eyes went back to the dragon who taught her lair to hide. "We have."

"I am on a mission to hunt her. But I have noticed a trend. The humans who I war with, they grow lyrium infected with the krazz. Their men become infected with the krazz . And I fear, that their leader may be trying to capture more dragons and make more like Niithilin." The dragon tilted her head at Uthreida. "I fear that his ambition may include the subjection of dragons." The area hissed again.

The dragon snarled. "And you want a dragon on your side? For your subjection? To win your war? Mortal."

"No" Uthreida shook her head. "In truth, I fear you are in danger." There was an awkward silence, then the low rumble of the great dragon's laughter. "Across the water, the humans have crafted the krazz lyrium. The same as the Niithilin. I fear you are next if I don't kill you." the laughter creased as the large dragon looked down at her in hate. "I would prefer an alliance."

"To fight your war for you."

"No. Bormahu's child has become corrupted. And is now razing the land. There was once a time where humans and dragons coexisted in peace. A time, where we worked symbolically with the land. This was in Atamora and Skyrim."

The dragon scoffed. "You speak of ancient times beyond counting. Lands we have lost and have never seen."

"I can show you."

The dragon paused and looked at her. "Why?"

"Because I need your help more than I need your soul." She said quickly. The dragon tilted its head. Her horns wet with rain, creating a new waterfall. "I do not know how to defeat her. Or why my thu'ums do not work. And I lack the sheer force to match her magnitude. If I should have need of your aide, will you help?" The dragon scoffed. "If I should fail, the dragon and her master will take more dragons. They will force them to become like Niithilin."

"How?"

"I-" she dropped her head. "I don't know."

The dragon gave a grunt at the lack of an answer. "You come here, asking for help, offer no information aside from fear, and expect me to follow?"

Uthreida sighed and realized she didn't have much to go on but needed help just in case. "The master is the source of the krazz. He will spread it-"

"Why do you think I take residence on an island?" The dragon shouted. The rumble of thunder shook the land as the lightning behind her make her look frightening.

Uthreida raised her chin to meet the dragon head-on. "How long until your hunting grounds in the mainland have been infected? How long until the only creatures available are the Krazzinar themselves. How long until you and your laan succumb to the plague." The dragon didn't speak. But pulled her head back slowly. "There was once a time, where we mortals went to the dragons to stop plagues. A time where-" she needed to word this so it didn't give any ideas. "Mortals knew the power of the dragons and revered it. Asking them to stop plagues by any means. But now, this plague infects your own. They turn the jills into archdemons of the Tahrovin." She took a step to the dragon who took a step back. "I do not ask for subjection, Vensahmaar. I ask for aid, should I need it, to end Niithilin. To end the plague of the krazz."

"There is no end, mortal." She stated louder. "Only destruction."

Uthreida took a bold step forward with arms outstretched. "Her master has subjugated a dragon. A child of the Bormahu. Treason against the divines. And he will pay for his crimes of false dominance. To end her master and remind the mortals that dragons are the embodiment of domination. To help burn out the plague so it is made safe for your laan. I ask that you heed my call. Once, and only once. I ask that you help the mortals. Because you need us to bring Alduin back."

The dragon stamped a paw and shook the land slightly. "I am not a traditionalist, Dovahkiin. My ambition is not to aide Alduin. I do not build my empire in the hopes of his pleasing." Uthreida lowered a brow at her. What is she going on about? The dragon scoffed and took a few steps forward. Uthreida held her ground against her size. "You are right. We did once help. Live together. Once. But the mortals of this land find us nuisance. We once were gifted with livestock and now hunted for it. And the krazz destroys the land." The dragon nodded her head. She moved and laid on her stomach, crossing her forelegs. "This master you speak of, why do you believe he intends to use dragons?"

Uthreida smiled as she looked at the dragon. Hope. "He is an ancient dragon priest who claims dominance over dragons. It is my belief that his men are posted at known dragon lairs. Protecting and monitoring dragons. They wait for him to arrive and do…something that changes them. Forces them to submit to his power. If I had to guess, it has something to do with the krazz lyrium."

"How?"

"I" Uthreida sighed defeated. "I don't know."

The dragon looked at her and Uthreida felt like she was arching a bored brow. "Something."

"Aye."

"Most dragons have a resistance to magic. Have you seen the Niithilin?"

"Aye."

"What were her powers? What has changed?"

"Gorranyol of the Hissing Wastes said she reeked of the krazz. When we battled, she was unaffected by a thu'um that was designed for a dragon." The dragon pulled her head back. "It is a shout designed for Alduin. To force him to feel mortality."

The dragon tilted her head at her. "And the Niithilin was unaffected?"

"Aye." The dragon looked off over the rocks in silence. The way the dragon tilted her head, made Uthreida think this dragon knew something. "Do you know?" The dragon's yellow eyes turned to her in a warning. "I have no desire to recreate, Vensahmaar. We mortals need dragons as much as you need us. But you know something. Aide me to keep this secrete from the mortals again and you may keep this secrete from me."

She gave a shake like a shudder and nodded. "Why does this master want dragons?"

Uthreida bit her lips. "I don't know." The dragon rolled her head. "He was a priest during ancient times. They prayed to the old gods."

"The jills."

Uthreida paused, looking at the dragon. That's who they were? The old gods are the jills. And the Wardens wanted to kill them. "Aye, seven in total. He wants to remake the world like it was in his times. So, it's expected that he wants six more dragons."

"To do what?"

Uthreida took a breath. "I don't know." The dragon looked away annoyed. "We believe that he will try to destroy the Vail so that he may take the seat of a god." The dragon snorted a single laugh. Uthreida nodded in agreement at the notion.

"How does he transform them?"

"I don't know."

The dragon took a breath. Its heavy sigh blew up mud onto Uthreida's boots. "What do you know?"

She swallowed. "That he needs to be stopped. I know one who can stop the master, but the dragon is my responsibility."

Vensahmaar looked over the lair, her eyes seeing things Uthreida couldn't. "For my laan, my drakes, my grounds. You have my aide, Dovahkiin. Once. And only once. I will allow you to use my name. Call, if should you need me."

Uthreida smiled and bowed lowly to the dragon. "Thank you, Vensahmaar."

"Have you warned the other dragons?"

Uthreida grit her teeth. She couldn't very well say she killed most of them. "The ones that I could." She said, thinking of Odahviing.

She nodded. "Very well."

"I have a favor if you will." The dragon tilted her head. "I have been paid to slay you." The dragon looked at her quickly. "But," Uthreida said with raised hands, "since we have an alliance, I would like to ask that you remain grounded for a few months. Send the drakes to hunt so one comes to finish what I started. After a few full moons, I can convenience the mortals that a new dragon has taken the territory and should leave you alone."

The dragon gave a grunt. "It sounds like you want me weak, so when we do battle the Niithilin, I'll be the decoy distraction."

Uthreida paused and considered it. "A fair assessment. I'm not expecting conflict for at least a month. How about the next new moons then."

The dragon paused to consider it. "And in exchange, the humans leave me be?" Uthreida nodded. "Very well."

"To keep them back, I'll need something to prove the deed is complete. Something from your horde." The dragon gave an annoyed grunt. "Something small. Scales, teeth, bits of broken armor. All to keep them back."

The dragon looked over her and nodded. She turned and stood on her hind legs above the rocks in her lair and pulled something down in her mouth. She placed the dead body of a drake before Uthreida. "This should suffice of my kill."

The rotting corpse was too far gone to use the flesh, but she could use the bones. She templed her hands and offered a prayer to Akotsh before removing the Drake's teeth and horns. Uthreida looked down and saw that her armor was clean. She found a decent puddle and rolled until her armor was soaked. Seeming satisfied. She offered a final bow to the dragon. "Thank you."

"May the winds guide you, Dovahkiin."

"Blessings to you, Vensahmaar."

Uthreida picked up her stash and made her way down the mountain.

She stepped out where Garavel could see her and started using the water from the ocean to clean her armor.

"Is it done?"

"Gol ha dov."

Garavel stopped his approach and looked off in the distance with clouded eyes. "You saw a dragon, bleeding and dead. You checked yourself as it's purple and yellow scales did not move with life. Your hand to this great beast is slain."

Garavel breathed and pulled back. His head shaking. He smiled down at her as she slashed more water on her armor. "I can't believe you killed it." She grunted as a response. He scratched his head. "Commander Nathaniel will be pleased."

"Good. Let us hope my friend is still alive."

Xxx

Uthreida took a deep breath and almost choked. She tried to pull at the corset strings behind her in futile vain. Blackwall chuckled into his hand. "Micha would've loved to have seen this." He said lowly.

Uthreida shot him a dark look and wanted to growl. "She's with the wardens. Like she wanted. And you're here. With the Inquisition, for gods knows why. Making fun of me. Like you wanted." She sighed, turning to see the laces that strapped her in the dress. Uncaring that she stood in the vestibule of the king's palace of Denerim with Blackwall. Both dressed up in finer clothes and stripped of weapons and armor. She spun in a circle and growled.

Blackwall grunted and pulled her by the arm gently to a secluded corner. "Turn." Uthreida lowered a brow. "Do you want it loosened or not?"

She looked at him and noticed a maid catch her eyes who adverted her gaze quickly and kept walking. The maid was also wearing a corset under her uniform. Uthreida groaned. "No. Apparently, it's 'fashion' and a 'social requirement' and insert other words for court requirements. Besides, if Cullen finds out you 'loosened me'" she let the implication hang as she looked about the room and saw eyes drop on the other waiting nobles. They were watching her. "I'll stop complaining."

"Thank you."

The door opened and the usher read the name of the next in line to meet the king. A Bann gave a nod and stepped forward as Uthreida and Blackwall retreated further.

They sat on a bench and watched as people passed them. Each eyeing suspiciously and kept walking. Uthreida looked down at her cream dress with red and topaz accents. She noticed the woman's eyes flicked to Uthreidas tattooed hands that she clenched unconsciously. "I feel like I just came from the mountains." Blackwall looked at her with a raised brow in question. Seeming just fine in his dark maroon doublet and dark leather trousers and his usual boots. "I feel out of place."

His blue eyes took in their surroundings quickly and sighed. He gave a slow smile. "They're just jealous."

"Of?"

"Me." She laughed at his smile. He leaned into her with his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't worry about them. You're here for the king, not them."

She tried to breathe again and cleared her mind. She was here for trade and answers. Trade and answers.

The door opened again and the Bann stormed his way out with a look of retribution on his face. Slamming the doors of the castle open as he left. The two looked at each other at the noble's actions with awkward questions. A small titter of laughter emerged from behind them as a woman covered her face with an open hand politely.

The usher appeared and was swarmed again by the nobles who demanded attention. The usher cleared his throat. "Representatives of the Inquisition, step forward." the usher boomed.

"That's us." Blackwall stood slowly and offered a gloved hand for Uthreida to take. The slow shifting of fabric and eyes turned to them and Uthreida clenched her teeth as she walked at Blackwalls side. The nobles stood back and let them pass. Uthreida had the sinking suspension that Ferelden didn't much appreciate the Inquisition right now.

The usher looked at the two of them. "The invitation is only for one."

Uthreida took Blackwalls arm. "He is my escort."

"The invitation was for one." The usher said with finality.

Blackwall held a hand over hers. "It's alright." He gave a soft smile. "I'll be here when you're done."

Uthreida was slightly thankful to be going alone, but also frightened what a man in the king's position could do. She forced a smile at the new warden. She looked to the nobles, then him. "Don't get eaten." She whispered with a smile. He chuffed but released her. The usher gave a bow and allowed her to enter the doors.

"The king will receive no more visitors today." The usher announced. The other nobles each groaned and cursed softly as the door closed behind her.

She tried to breathe and was restricted by the damn clothes. She followed the hall to see a vacant throne at the end. She walked the green carpet in the silence of the hall. Along the walls were benches and tables set up for the Bannor if she had to guess. Above was a higher landing to overlook the Royal hall.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." A familiar voice chuckled.

"King Alistair." A tired voice said back. She moved and the voices grew quieter in the side hall as they walked off. She approached the throne of wood and carvings of dogs. Mabari. The style reminded her of ancient Atamoroan totemism. The sharp teeth are the emphasis of the creature.

Her eyes went to the throne and its red and yellow fabric padded seat. She approached. The throne of the Palace of the Kings was stone. Cut from the same quarry as her bricks. But here, the wood carving showed smoothed wear on the armrest and back. The high back held a shield above it. The paint had faded but the wood was stained with red and yellow.

"Lady Uthreida." She turned at her name to see King Alistair entering with a plate of cheeses and cured meats balanced on his hand. "Good afternoon."

She bowed to him and took a few steps from the throne. "Thank you for inviting me, your majesty."

He smiled at her but tilted his head back. "We don't normally meet in here. Care to follow me?" Uthreida stepped off and followed him through the dark corridors barely lit by lamps. "Hope you don't mind if I eat my lunch. I've been in and out of meetings all day."

"No, it's quite alright."

"Have you eaten?" She met his eyes and smiled. Her mouthwatering at the smell of meats. He lowered the plate to her. She smiled fully and ate a square of cheese. "Heard you had quite the adventure across Orlais."

She laughed softly and nodded. "Aye. Starting to get curious how many spies you actually have in the Inquisition."

"Honestly," he said with a smile and a head tilt as he guided her into a large room, "a hand full. "He held the door and allowed her to enter.

She stepped into a well-lit library that was lined with shelves of books and she smiled. This was more than the Inquisition had and almost rivaled the College of Winterhold. She don't hear what he was saying as she took in the shelves.

Alistair chuckled. "Mages and their books. Uthreida turned with an embarrassed smile. "You do know the Winter Palace has more than we do?" She made an annoyed face at the realization as she was distracted by everything else that was going on that night. "Shall we?" He opened a hand to the table that had a bottle of wine and two goblets, and his lunch. He pulled a chair out for her to take and scooted it in for her before taking his own seat.

"So," she started playfully and took a small piece of cured meat, "in Skyrim, we begin business dealing with getting to know the other. From what I gather, in Ferelden, you skip straight to business with no discourse."

Alistair smirked as he popped the cork on the bottle. "I suppose. But being king with nobles daily," he nodded his head in annoyance as he poured her drink, "it's becoming part of the process. So," he took his goblet with a swirl, "how was your trip across Orlais."

She smiled as she took her goblet. "I hated it."

Alistair stopped himself from drinking to laugh. "Yes, well. Already a proper Ferelden then."

"If I may." She leaned forward. "You are a Warden, aye? Did Corypheus's mimicked calling affect you?"

His eyes were wide and scoffed in humor. "So we're not pulling back punches. Got it. Ah, yes." He leaned back in his chair with a roll to get comfortable. "I was."

"Now?"

He searched her visually to gauge her intentions. "It's gone now. According to my reports, I suppose I have Loghain to thank. I swear that man absolutely refuses to die graciously."

Uthreida chuckled as she drank. "I met him a few times, well, I saw him a few times. He seemed…scary."

Alistair laughed at her interpretation. "Yes. How is your husband these days?"

She nodded with a smile. "Well."

"Is he?"

Uthreida lowered her brows at his question. He knew something. "As far as I know." She said slowly.

He gave a forced smile. "Do me a favor. Request to Royoc to stop asking my generals to replace his Commander for medical concerns. The Inquisitors inability to replace should say something about his nature or his leadership skills."

Uthreida bit her lips. She couldn't outright say they didn't get along and show a divide. She looked at the king and wondered why not. "Cullen seems to be under the impression that Royoc has" she sighed. "Never mind."

"No, please." Alistair leaned forward with a smile.

He was fishing for more information and she didn't know anymore where her true loyalties lie. "There is a divide, but I don't believe it is my place to delve into specifics of my husband's personal affairs. Whatever their issues, it is being worked."

Alistair only smiled again and leaned back in his chair. "Such loyalty." His smile wasn't of malice, but of pride. "I imagine it has to do with your husband being a Templar though."

"Ex-Templar."

"Right, of course." He took a quick drink. "Given Royoc's own history, it's easy to assume." Uthreida lowered her brows, not following what he knew. He mimicked her expression. "You don't know the Inquisitor's history?"

"I never cared to."

Alistair chuckled and leaned forward. "Gossip or work. Choices, choices." He said with a smile. "Trevelyan of Ostwick is a major house in the Free Marches. Royoc had two older siblings. A brother and a sister. The heir, the spare, and the one that was supposed to go into chantry service. Templar service. Fate would have it, when Royoc was about eight, his sister was discovered to be a mage. His older brother surrendered his titles and became a Templar to watch over her instead. Royoc was trained in courts as a child, then bounced from one knight to another during his squire years. From what I understand, he was ordered from the house to learn to control his, darker tendencies, I believe my reports stated. He returned to Ostwick about three years ago. His brother and sister were at the conclave. And I'm sure you know the rest."

She arched a bemused brow. "Am I supposed to pity him?"

"I don't." He said honestly as he ate some cheese. "So, to business?"

"Aye." She gave a nod and folded her hands on the table. Alistair stood and retrieved two books from a desk and placed them on the table. She recognized one from Halamshiral. "We were able to decode the book we found. Turns out. It's Ancient Alamarri. So, finding an Avvar who could read it was a challenge. He was able to transcribe most of it. But I do believe we have our heading."

Uthreida nodded a few times with a smile. "Excellent."

Alistair paused as he looked at her. His eyes squinting. "You already know, don't you?"

"Aye."

"Andraste flaming-" he took a breath, covering his face with his hands. He turned and caught his temper before it flared out. After three breaths he laughed. "Of course. Of course, you do. Because how else could you get here."

"You may want to sit down."

He shook his head. "Do you have any idea how much resources we've wasted on this?"

"Is it authentic?" She asked and pointed at the book.

The king looked at it and sighed. "Yes."

"Do you believe it?" He looked at her in annoyance. "Do you believe me now? That Skyrim and Tamriel exists." He grunted at her open gesture.

He fell into his chair and covered his face in exhaustion. "How long have you known? Did you lie to me when we first met?"

"No, I found out later."

"When? How?"

Uthreida took a deep breath and tapped her fingers on the table. "I will answer all of your questions honestly and truthfully if you answer mine honestly." He cocked a brow. "I have questions that no one can answer and I know that you know and may if you want my answers."

He made a bored face with a thin line. He leaned forward threateningly. "I will not answer any questions that may weaken Fereldens standing."

"I'm glad, because, that's not what I wanted to ask. I have warden questions."

Alistair leaned back slightly and looked her over. "I go first."

"Of course, my king."

"You didn't lie to me when we first met?

"No"

"But you know where your land is."

"Aye."

"How did you find out?" Uthreida took a deep breath and puffed her cheeks. Knowing how he may respond. "By the Maker, I'd you say blood magic-"

"Ha? No. Gods, why does everyone automatically assume? No, I-" she sighed again. She met his gaze. "Don't-" she held up a hand to keep him calm. "I…called… a friend from Skyrim." Alistair lowered his brows and shook his head to make her talk more. She licked her lips and sighed again. "I…" here we go. "Called a dragon from Skyrim."

"What?" He demanded and came to a stand.

"He's a good dragon. Peaceful. He's following the way of the voice."

"That's is an oxymoron." He stated frantically. "You're being paid to kill them and you ship in more? I mean, that's one way to have job security, but come on. These are my people. And you threaten them with more? How- how in the void did you call a dragon?"

Uthreida looked at him. His expression held genuine question. She popped her knuckles nervously. "He is my friend. And dragons are prideful and respond when called."

He scoffed. He Ran a hand through his hair as he turned away from her. "You" he sighed again. "I don't know what to make of this. How many?" He asked as he spun around. "How many have you called?"

"Just Odahviing."

"Implying you can call more, or you can only call one?" Uthreida bit her lips and gave a pained expression. He took a forceful breath and stepped back. His hand going over his heart. He licked his lips in anger. "Great." He said with a fake smile and forced tone. "Great." He rubbed his neck in the same time. "Fantastic. Let's start trade with people who keep pet dragons. You know who else has a pet dragon?"

Uthreida stood at the accusation with fire as the chair fell behind her. Alistair looked at her with a cocked brow and fists ready to engage. He was a Dovahkiin like her. A brother. Her only brother. She lowered her eyes. "I am not whatever that thing is." She said lowly.

"Yet." He said in the same tone. She looked away. Knowing his truth harsher than he did. He sighed again. "How?" He asked.

Uthreida swallowed. "Knowing dragons. And allows you to call them. Using the thu'um."

"I meant how does it look?" He met her eyes. "The map."

She looked around and pointed to the desk. She pulled a fresh parchment and inked a quill and started to draw a crude map of Tamriel. "This is Tamriel. This is Skyrim." She did the crude drawing of the political lines of the countries. "This is Akavir." She drew the continents. "Atamora. Pyandonea. And this is Thedas." She drew the vague outline of his land on the lower left of the map.

"This is us?" He pointed to Thedas and she nodded. "And this is you?" She nodded again. "And these other ones?"

"I would suggest not going. Humans are normally killed on sight in these lands due to, well, our warring with them."

He looked at her quickly, then back at the map. He took a quick breath and turned. He picked up the second book and flipped to a page. Reading over it quickly. He looked at the crude map and confirmed something in the book. "Right. North by northeast." He slammed the book shut and stood over her. "The Avvar translated south by southwest. And it's been confirmed that humans came from…somewhere up here." He circled Tamriel lazily. "However, the distance between Fereldan and Skyrim may not be beneficial to the country. We'd have to sail all the way around the continents just for trade adding time and reducing the ripeness of exportable goods. It significantly reduces what we can trade."

"Aye. But it's a start. An idea."

He nodded slowly. "A heading." He rubbed his neck. "So let's be honest. What do you have for trade that isn't perishable?"

She looked up in thought. "Mead, furs, cloth, and jewels, ivory if you're brave. Metals. Baleen."

He nodded. "We'll have to do the same. I sure I can procure good Fereldan scotch to trade." He looked at the map again. "Right." He picked it up and turned back to the table. Studying it as he ate some more cheese and meat. "Right. What is Skyrim importation and exportation processes?"

Uthreida lowered her head and popped her knuckles again. "I don't know." She said softly. "It's not a business I was ever a part of and I can't give a definitive answer. But like I said, I will speak to King Ulfric to see that Ferelden gets a reduced tax as our own trading is restricted. I've been working with Ambassador Josephine and after speaking to some prospective merchants, we're working on a way to funnel goods through Ferelden only. All countries have to pay the Ferelden importation to reach Skyrim."

Alistair arched a brow. "That's" his look softened slightly, "that's very generous. That allows us to pick up goods in Trading countries to deliver direct."

Uthreida nodded. "Aye. Until the other nations know, you would receive all taxable profits from this trade route. Until greed and laziness when the Qun learns of Valenwood or Elsywhere or the isles. Maybe not the isles. That said, Thedas has plagues we've never had, and we have plagues you've never had. So, you may want to bring a healer on each ship."

He nodded slowly. "Makes sense. Bit of a problem though." She looked at him. "We won't have mages until they reinstate the Circles."

She nodded slowly. "Well, if you want to trade and to keep the people safe, you're going to have to fix something."

He gave a heavy sigh. They stepped towards her. "Where are we going?"

Uthreida looked at the map. "Windhelm first in the Eastmarch Hold. You'll need to meet King Ulferic. Then Solitude in the Haalfingar Hold. It has a warehouse for trade. Dawn Star is also a merchant city off the coast. Any one of these three cities should be beneficial for you."

He inked the quill and made a few notes on the shoreline and were the names of the places. "Alright. So," he looked at her with a smile. "Anything in Ferelden that would pique the interest of your people?"

"Scotch."

"That's expected." He said with a chuckle.

"Saffron Almonds."

"Alright."

"You can keep the red lyrium."

He arched a brow. "Don't want the blue?"

"We have no need for it." She said casually as she retook her seat. "Besides, it's the blood of your trade. Not ours. Best not to bring it in." She folded her hands on the table to see him still confused. "Lyrium will not be brought into Tamriel as I'm sure you have no need for moon sugar."

He approached cautiously and sat down. "What do you mean you have no need for it?"

She arched a brow at him, remembering her word she would speak honestly and truthfully. "Your mages require the lyrium to pull magic. Our mages are not hindered by the vail. Thus, we have no need for lyrium. That said, if you intend to build Andrastan temples, it probably shouldn't be guarded by lyrium addicted Templars."

Alistair shook his head. "How do you enchant?"

"We have our own methods."

He arched a brow and looked awkwardly. "Alright. Suspicious, but alright." He looked at the gauge map before him and nodded. "So, it's probably going to take some time to get a proper mapping but, at least we can begin. I believe you had a few questions as well."

Uthreida looked at her hands and sighed. "Why is a Warden required to end the blight?"

Alistair blinked a few times with an emotionless expression as he looked at her. "This isn't a blight. That dragon isn't an archdemon."

"Answer me." She realized her tone was sharper than she intended and lowered her eyes. "Please."

He crossed his arms and looked out the window in contemplation. He looked over at her, in the silence. He sighed and leaned forward. "A Warden must make the final blow. When the demon dies, it's tainted souls will be transferred into the closest tainted creature. If it's a darkspawn, the demon can recover. But if absorbed by a Warden," he looked away and blinked away a memory. "One form cannot hold two souls. Thusly, kills the warden in the process."

She blinked slowly. "That's how the hero died?"

He nodded slowly, blinking away his memories. "She knew the risks. And did it anyway."

She looked away, brows drawn as more questions came to her. "Does that imply that Darkspawn don't have souls?"

"That is the running theory."

"And, if a mage performs blood magic, they lose a part of their soul? That's how Corypheus can move?"

He raised his brows and shrugged. "I wouldn't know, but thanks for the new nightmares."

She shook off the joke. "If I slay that dragon, and I absorb its soul, do I-will I become tainted?"

Alistair looked at her in piety and she knew her fear was written on her face. He leaned forward with his fingers inches from her hand. "This isn't a true blight. That isn't an archdemon. It's-"

"Something is wrong with that dragon." She argued quickly. "I don't know what, or how or why, but something isn't right. It's-" she sighed and held her arms. Alistair took a breath and she looked away. Gorranyol said she smelled of the krazz but wasn't an archdemon. Then by Akatosh, why didn't the thu'um work?

"I don't know." He said silently. "We don't know what it is or why. We don't know anything about it. All we know is that it's not normal, and it's being controlled by the Elder One." He sighed again and pulled his hand back. "I can't tell you what you should do or how to defeat or…anything. But I have reasonable certainty that you should be fine."

"Based on?" She snapped.

He held a breath. "Hope? That's all I got."

She rolled her eyes at the lack of a plan. She breathed and was restricted by the corset again. "Liliana said that to make a warden, they needed the blood of a dragon and darkspawn. Does ingesting the dragon blood allow you to absorb the soul of an archdemon?"

The king looked away awkwardly in uncercentity, then shrugged. "In conjunction with the darkspawn blood...Sure, I guess?"

She took a deep breath and let it out. She looked at the king who was awkwardly thinking about something else. She bit her lip in thought. The idea of becoming enslaved at the hands of a monster sacred her. If she becomes tainted, with that things hive mind, he could...she could...Her mind's eye went back to Cullen. Of his look of fear and disgust. And wondering if he wasn't too far off. Seeing Cullen's eyes in her mind, she looked at the king. "So, I know there are rumors of" she waved a hand between them and he smirked. "But you're not, actually considering it…right?"

"No." He said dramatically. He waved a hand to retract. "Let me step back. Respectfully-"

"Bless you, Mara." She said with a smile. "Do you mind if I end the rumor then?"

"No." He stated again with the same tone. Uthreida looked at him annoyed and he held his hands up to surrender. "What? It keeps them back." He waved a vague hand to the door and she assumed he meant crown chasers.

Uthreida sighed and stood. "Thank you, your majesty. You have given me much to think about."

He stood with her. "I find I am as well. I'll work with some of the ship captains to see who is willing to map the new world."

"Old world."

"Over there." He said with a smile to end the argument. "That said, do you require rooms for the night?"

"No, but thank you, my king. We have rooms in the city." She bowed. "We're expected back soon. We start our assault on the Arbors soon."

"Yes, I know." He walked with her out of the library. "May I just point out one thing?"

"Of course."

"When your" he looked around and straighten his back when he saw a sentry guard, "friend runs out and starts to, you know. Ah," his face scrunched and a hand moving before his face to show something as he made several sounds of a village burning and people running in fear and screaming. Uthreida laughed at his interpretation of a dragon attack. "No more. Alright?"

She gave a quick chuckle. "Aye, my king."

"Thank you. Do stay safe, Lady. I hope to see you again." He gave a deep bow and left her to walk back out of the castle.

"How'd it go?" Blackwall asked she entered the vestibule.

She looked off into the distance, then at her friend. "I don't know. I think it went well? Or I just damned Skyrim. Hard to tell."

Xx

Uthreida paced the raft as they crossed the lake. Her head was pounding and her head raced with anxiety and she looked to the southwest. So that's what this feels like. Her shoulder tensed at the call of battle. He was calling her. And she was drawn to him.

She resisted the urge to jump from the raft and swim. To ditch Blackwall and Ragnar on the raft and go. She needed to pretend she had some sense of decorum. So she paced. The annoying feel of the pull of her name as he called it to the heavens. Demanding she showed herself to him.

Her jaw clenched. She didn't know if Odahviing was in trouble, or angered, or why? But he was calling to her. She swore to protect. To defend. And now, she can't. Trapped in a boat and spending the last several months pretending like she wasn't a damn dragon-made flesh.

"How much longer?" She asked anyone who would respond.

"Three minutes less from when you asked last time," Blackwall grunted from his seat. "Sit down, Slayer. You're rocking the raft."

She couldn't sit. She had to move. She had to run. She had to fight. She had to do…something. She looked to the dusk sky as the oranges were hidden by the mild cloud cover of late summer.

"Uthredda." The sky quaked and she almost lost her balance as her name tore at her chest. She looked at Blackwall who held his hands out to catch her. "Did you hear that?"

He gave a confused brow and looked south. "The thunder?" Her eyes followed his and she shook her head. "You alright? You're not usually seasick."

She shook her head. She couldn't exactly tell him that a dragon was calling for her. A dragon she brought to Thedas. A dragon that was either threatening her or being threatened. All she could do was breathe and do nothing. Taking the soul wrenches as they came. Feeling her own prestige as a Dovahkiin dwindle the longer it took her to respond.

She fidgeted the rest of the trip. Moving in any way possible to keep from jumping from the raft.

Finally. The raft pulled to the land and she pulled Ragnar by the reigns to get him off the raft quickly. He resisted and reared at her. "Ragnar, we have to go." She roared back.

He stepped back, rearing his head back, and pulled her.

"Uthreida." Blackwall called to her. "Forcing isn't going to work. It's late. He needs his rest as do you." He pulled the reins from her and gently led Ragnar from the raft.

When on land she pulled the reins from Blackwall again and mounted. "Utha. It's been a long day." He moved so his horse blocked her path. "We can stay at the inn, rest, take care of the horses, and be on our way."

Her body vibrated with the intensity that she had to go. She had to run. She couldn't wait. She shook her head. "Stand aside."

Blackwall gave a grunt. He dropped the reins on his horse and stood next to her. His face was of disappointment. He pulled a dagger and cut the front harness strap on Ragnar's saddle. "We're resting tonight. The horses are exhausted and-"

She bounded off the horse, drawing her axe, "get out of my way."

"I don't know what's gotten into you, but you need to calm down." He roared over her. He took Ragnar's reigns and jutted his chin to her. "Crossing water is no easy feat for horses. We are resting for the night. But if you want to walk, start walking. We" he pointed to the horses, "will catch up-No, no, wait. You're not leaving. And if I have to lock you on a room, I will."

"I have to go and you will not stop-"

He punched her in the stomach and she doubled over. He knelt low and carried her on his shoulder. He clicked his tongue for the horses to follow as he walked to the stables. Her recovery cut short as his shoulder bit into her stomach and she couldn't breathe.

He dropped her on a haystack unceremoniously and led the horses into the stables and paid the stable master. She was finally able to roll onto her stomach and staggered to her feet. Blackwall looked at her with a brow but started to work on the horses.

She stumbled and made her way outside of the stables. Remembering how to breathe and thinking of alternatives. She looked south, knowing how far she would need to travel and the horses would be tired. But she needed to move. She looked over the lake and stopped.

Could it work?

Would it work?

She's technically a spirit of a different realm. And with the vail-

"Utha?" A familiar voice called. Oh, what now? She turned and rolled her eyes. Cullen approached from the rear side of the inn with a look like a question. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm returning from the temple of Dumat. You?"

"I meant why are you standing in the rear of the inn?"

He chuffed as he approached. "To be honest, my balls have been floating for the last half hour. Have you finished in Denerim?"

"Aye" she snapped, looking at the lake.

He slowed his approach at her attitude. "What's going on?"

"I just- I have to go and Blackwall striped my horse and-"

"Uthredda" She grabbed her heart and knelt down. He's getting desperate.

Cullen knelled down to the side with a look of concern as he touched her shoulders. "Are you alright? Do you need a healer?"

"I need a horse." She gritted. She took a breath and looked across the lake. Cullen pulled her to stand. The smell of elder leaves and oak moss tore her between playing the innocent act and doing what she vowed. "Walk away." She growled slowly. "Walk away, Cullen. Have Blackwall take Ragnar back to Skyhold, I'll meet you there. But walk away. Now."

His grip on her armor tightened and he stood fast. "No." She shoved him off and wadded into the water. "Utha, what are you-"

She pulled the seal into her mind and held her arms out. "Shadowmare." She commanded. She took a deep breath. Hoping it worked. She needed this to work. It was her or the flaming horse that would only bring more suspicions. She looked at the lake and didn't see any changes. Damn it.

"Utha." Cullen pulled her by the collar of her armor out of the water. "What in the Makers name do you think you're doing. Do you have any idea-"

The sound of thunder made her look back at the lake. She watched as the ripples moved differently. A horse's head emerged from the waters, galloping and breathing heavily in the waters. Cullen turned and held her behind him while she raised her arms in victory. "It worked."

"What?" He shouted over his shoulder with a look of betrayal in his eyes.

Shadowmare clomped onto the beach and shook off the water. Uthreida moved from behind Cullen who held her back. Shadowmare reared, her hooves kicking and landing with a loud thump on the rocky shore.

"Kelpie." Cullen held Uthreida back from the horse as his hand went to his weapon. Shadowmare looked at Uthreida and nodded with a blow.

Uthreida bowed back to the dark horse. "Ready for another dragon?" It whinnied and stood taller.

Uthreida moved from around Cullen and he pulled her back. "Are you insane?" He shouted at her. "You can't ride that. It'll drown you."

She pushed him back and walked towards her. "Utha" he called, grabbing her again by her belts. "Stop. This thing is a predator. You-you can't-and shan't-and how-and why-and …what in the Makers name is going on?"

She swatted his hand away and reached for the saddle. Cullen physically restrained her from the horse. Shadowmare looked at them with a blow. She felt Cullen stiffen behind her as he looked at it and her red eyes.

Uthreida pushed him off again and pulled herself up on the Imperial saddle by the horse's mane. She took the reins and rubbed her neck in apology.

"What are you-get off" he made a frustrated sound as he looked up at her.

"A dragon calls me to battle." She stated as she looked down at him. "Get back to Skyhold." She kicked Shadowmare and rode at her gallop. Holding herself up in the stirrups and rode.

Cullen called after her and swore.

She rode taking the hardest straight-line path across Ferelden. Feeling his call to her.

The sound of the second set of hooves made her slow to turn.

Cullen was approaching on the Inquisitor's horse. The Antivan horse bread for speed was catching up. Uthreida kicked Shadowmare on the sides and resumed her gait.

She rode the horse at a decent distance from the commander until she crested a familiar hill. She had made it to the halfway point between Skynold and Redcliff. Her body sore from the ride, she pulled Shadowmare to a halt. She closed her eyes and dug deep, trying to feel his call. She couldn't feel him. Cullen's hooves blocked her ability to concentrate. "Odahviing." She called to the heavens.

She sat on Shadowmare and waited.

The Antivan horse came to a slow halt and was breathing hard as Cullen approached. Uthreida looked up at the dark sky and waited. Is he? Did he? Is she too late?

"By what right do you have to gallivant off-" Cullen roared as pulled the horse towards her. "With little to no regard of your companions to take out a-"

Her chest seized again as she heard her name across the sky. He moved. West. She kicked Shadowmare and rode towards it.

The Antivan horse was slower to gallop after them.

She rode hard to catch him. Passing an Inquisition camp with no care of their station as she rode throughout the night.

She felt her chest seize again as he called her. She was close. She looked up the pathway of some village and stopped. She looked around with a lowered brow. Why here? He was supposed to be in Redcliff. Not here. Where was she?

She looked about as the sun started to rise. The smell of smoke filled her as the winds changed. He attacked. He's attacked the village.

Hooves behind her made her turn. Cullen didn't stop. On a fresh horse and pulled her off Shadowmare. She trapped his arm as he fell with her. The horses stamped as the two of them recovered from their fall and panting.

"Why are we here?" He shouted at her. Standing slowly with a hand to his weapon.

"There's a dragon here that called to me."

"Here?"

"Aye. Where are we?"

He took a step back and wiped his face. "You rode like that for a dragon? You summoned that thing for a dragon? Do you hear yourself?"

She waved him off. "You wouldn't understand, Cullen. Go back to Skyhold. I'll join you soon."

He held her back. "If you think I'm-"

"Cullen?" A feminine voice called. Both turned to see a woman exit a small hut. Blonde curling hair and gold-flecked eyes as she looked at Cullen.

Cullen took a step back, his grip on Uthreida lessening as he looked at her. "What are you doing here?" He demanded. He abandoned Uthreida to approach the woman.

"We're here for Uncle Gwaint." Her thumb hitched behind to indicate the hut.

Uthreida chest seized again as Odahviing called to her. She bent over breathing through the pain.

"Cullen, a dragon attacked last night. It's destroying Honnleath village. I-what-what do we do?"

Cullen looked at Uthreida and took a deep breath. He sucked his teeth. He nodded to her to finish. Uthreida put her helmet on and mounted Shadowmare again. She guided the horse up the hill and could feel the heat of the fires as she approached. Bodies laid next to broken and scorched wood. The center of the village laid bare as the homes were ashes and broken. She wasn't fast enough. The sound of breaking wood made her look to the center of the village. The temple of the Maker. And on it was the form of the red dragon. She dismounted the horse and drew her sword. He broke his word. He was supposed to be peaceful. Using the way of the voice. He promised not to harm the people. "Odahviing." She called as she entered his blood field.

The dragon turned. His golden eyes looked her over as he descended from his place from the top of the building. "Dovahkiin." Slowly walking his way down the building. He pulled back as he looked at her. "This is your doing."

"You attacked a village unprovoked, and blame me for your actions."

"Your men encroached on my territory and attacked me." His eyes dropped to the banner at her leg. She followed his gaze and saw the flaming eye. Inquisition soldiers attacked him? "Those men had a standing order to keep their distance. They know-"

"Your men disobeyed your order, Dovahkiin." He roared back. "You went back on your word. You sent your men to kill me because you lack the courage to do it yourself."

She snarled at his tone. "I have never ordered them to-" she stopped. They aren't her men. She can't order them to do a damn thing. But Cullen can.

"Your men seized my lair and kept attacking."

"You could've moved. Found peace somewhere else."

"A dragon does not move at the mewling of the mortals" he roared, taking steps close to her as his teeth snapped at her space. "I delivered the death they craved."

Uthreida shook her head. Drawing her axe into her free hand. "We had a deal."

"You broke it, Dovahkiin. And now, you must pay for your treachery."

She scoffed at the dragon. "We could've co-existed in peace, Odahviing. We-"

"Your plea for peace died when you were reborn." He took a breath for his thu'um.

"Joor Zah Frul." She rolled to avoid his fire as she ran to his side. His body was encased in the mist as her ax started on his right rear leg. He bowled in the pain of his soul tearing at the idea of mortality. She found the blood and ripped it. His ancient essence spilled how and stained the ground. He howled and tried to turn on his wounded leg. He opened his mouth to snap and her blade went for his throat. Both missing their attacks. She sunk low and slammed the head of the axe into his tendon and severed his ability to walk on it. Curling it up in pain, she went for the underbelly. Drawing it open and he took a breath. "Fos, Ro Da." Canceling his attack. He stumbled to get away from her. She feigned right and went for the front left. Her axe distracted while her sword punctured his breast. He howled and she realized his heart was on the other side. A wheeze of blooded lungs escaped his mouth and she went for the throat. Her blade hit bone as she shoved it down. Odahviing tried to breathe around the hole and couldn't suck in the air for his thu'um. He staggered back. He swatted at her. His forearms had more reach than the females and pushed her away from him.

Uthreida was pushed into a wooden pole in the center of the square. She raised her arm and shouted in pain. Her left shoulder had dislocated. Her axe lay on the ground, and unable to grip it. Odahviing looked at her. The white must dissipate and the blood turned the ground to mud. He ran at her. She was slow to stand. Slow to move. He ran. His mouth open and his teeth pointed at her. "Zii los dii du"

The orange haze filled her as she watched Odahviing fall. His orange soul melded with hers.

She opened her eyes. Seeing the idleness of the red dragon's snout. His teeth still shining in the saliva. She took a deep breath. Realizing what she had just did. Another, realizing what she was willing to do when she faced death.

And screamed the frustrations of her fate. Her own stupidity. Her fear. The clouds opened wide as lightning filled the sky. Her fury made one bolt strike the chantry before her. The rain hid the tears of her soul.

Xxx

Cullen had enough of his heart in his throat. Telling Mia that Uthreida was, in fact, not the Wild Hunt of old stories. Telling Branson that she is, in fact, a dragon slayer. And Uncle Gwaint hysterical laughter of the situation before them all.

He walked up the familiar hill and saw the black horse drinking water from a bucket as the village's fires were slowly doused in the rain. The bodies lay strewn about as the dragon had its way. He kept walking. Watching childhood memories unfurl as one's of Kirkwall seemed more frightening. Seeing them overlap. Of Templars, bodies and flesh sacks and that man that looked like a childhood friend laid slain on the ground.

He took a shaking breath as he walked closer. Seeing the massive heap of a dragon on its side and armor laid against a-

Uthreida.

He sprinted to her. Laid against the wooden pole of the town square. He slid to his knees as he approached. "Utha. Darling. Utha."

He ripped the helmet off to see her. She didn't move. "Maker no, not again." He held a hand to her throat as she blinked. His heart shrunk as he looked at her. "Utha?" He whispered.

"He pushed me back." Her voice was soft and broken. "I fell. Dislocated my shoulder. I-" her chin quivered as she looked at the dragon. "I became him. I became Miraak. Because I was scared. I-" her eyes filled with tears as she never looked away from the dragon. Her chin quivered again.

Cullen took a deep breath. He knew the name, knew he was her Sampson, but couldn't figure out beyond that. He could empathize. "Come." He pulled her to stand and she hissed in pain. He looked her over. Undoing the straps on her armor, he lifted her arm and rotated it. She braced against the pole as he shoved and felt the jerk as the bone went back into the socket. She hissed a pained cry at the fix but seemed to breathe easier. Cullen pulled the banner from around her hips and wrapped it over her shoulder to act as a sling. He looked down as he worked and saw she was only looking at the dragon. Her eyes were dead as she looked at her victory. "Utha?"

Her head slowly turned to look at him. Her eyes cast down at her boots. "Did you order your men to kill him?" Her voice was barely over the sound of lighting and rain. Cullen lowered his brows. "He said my men attacked. He saw the banner and blamed me. Did you order your men to kill him?"

"No." Cullen said quickly. "Standing orders are to give room and monitor for you to-"

She pushed him back with her good arm. "Your men encroached and provoked him to attack." She shouted. "Your men moved on your orders."

Cullen snorted at her change. "What did you expect? We live in a work of demons, darkspawn, and dragons. Where moving down the right path is scandalized. Even if my men did attack, they did because they too were threatened and you make it look so damn easy."

"He was trying at peace." She roared back. "He was following the way of the voice until your men-"

"Did what they had to-"

"No report indicated that he was provoking them."

Cullen took a step back at her statement with a breath of realization. "You've been reading my reports." Uthreida looked away. Cullen licked his lips with a lowered head. "That's why you come to me at night. To read my reports when I sleep."

"Do not think that is the only reason." She cut her hand across the air. "You ordered your men to attack."

"If I had no reports, how can I order it, Uthreida?" He snapped back. She grit her teeth in anger and looked away. Cullen shook his head at her but stopped. What did she say? He looked at the red scales of the dragon then at her. "Did you say that dragon told you?" She looked up from her lowered chin at him. She pulled at the fade and her blade flew into her open hand. Cullen smote her and she clenched at the drain. He took a step back. His plate hitting the snout of the beast. The red scales mocked him in his fear as he looked at the woman before him. Her breathing deepened as she looked at him. Her eyes were dark as she readied herself to kill him. Cullen circled so he wasn't pinned. His own hand on his blade. "You speak to them?" He whispered, unsure if he actually wanted the answer. "They talk to you."

"Don't." She warned lowly. Circling like he was.

Cullen looked at her with wide eyes. All the things he tried to blind himself to. All the things he chose to ignore. Maker.

Her chin quivered as she looked at him. Her blade was exposed but at her side.

She was…she is…

"Cullen." Mia called. He dared not look away from the woman before him. "Cullen." He could hear her running to him but slowed when she took in the scene.

Uthreida took deep breaths, waiting to see what he would do. He breathed, waiting to see what she would do.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

Neither looked anywhere else but at one another.

Cullen swallowed back his questions and turned his head to Mia and Branson, his eyes still on his wife. "We need to start looking for survivors. Put out the fires." He turned to look at her. "You need to rest."

Uthreida didn't move for a long moment. She spun her blade, sheathing it on her hip with some difficulty. Using her foot to bring her ax up and holster it.

They stood in the square. Watching each other.

Xxx

Cullen rubbed his neck as he walked in silence with Branson and Mia. They had spent the day searching for bodies, survivors, and everything in between. Stacking and wrapping the people to be burned on a pyre when it stopped raining. His armor was removed and carried on his helmet at his side.

They walked back to the hut. A thick and awkward silence filled them as they took the path.

"So," Branson said solely to ease the tension, "You seem efficient as the burial swaths." Branson added awkwardly.

Mia slapped him in the chest. "Branson" she hissed.

Cullen sighed. "I suppose." He looked at the landscape that once gave him peace. "What happened to Rose again?"

"She married a dwarven merchant a few years ago," Mia stated.

"And your here, during a time of war, because?"

"Uncle Gwaint is too old to run the place by himself." She shot him an annoyed look as they already went over it when he berated them for leaving South Reach.

"Right," Cullen said darkly. "So you traveled. Across Ferelden. During a war. Of unfathomable evil, to collect Uncle Gwaint. Who refused to leave, with you, after the blight?"

Mia side-eyed him. "Yes."

"Great. That's….great. And I assume you're going to make the same journey back? With an old man who has maneuverability issues. In a time of war."

Her dark look didn't abate. "Yes."

"Great."

Branson looked at Cullen with a brow. "I have a wife and a two-year-old son. You want to talk about how that puts us in a precarious situation as well?"

Cullen popped his jaw and sighed. "That's not. Look, I-" he sighed again. "I wish you didn't make this journey. You would've done best to wait until after-"

"Hunker down," Branson asked

"Yes."

"Like the bodies, we pulled from buildings today?"

Cullen squinted at Branson who pursed his lips at Cullen. He rolled his eyes and kicked a rock on the road.

Mia grunted. "Well, Cullen, If you ever read my letters, you would've known we were making this journey."

Cullen stopped outside of the house and turned to her. "I've been out of the country for the last two months. What do you want?"

"So you've read all the other letters?"

"Yes."

"And never thought to send one home?"

Cullen sucked his teeth at the smaller blond woman. She was right. He forced the door open and held it for the others.

Cullen entered the home that was the size of his office and saw his Uncle sitting on a bench preparing... something. He gave a friendly smile and nodded. Mia went to fuss over him while his eyes were taken in by the redhead by the hearth. Under her unbraided hair was a cream dress and a large shall in his family colors. The tartan of red, gold, white and black swathed over her. He had to look at Mia to make sure he kept his jaw from opening. Seeing her in his clan colors was something he thought he'd never see.

"How is it?" His Uncle asked.

Mia gave a deep breath and washed her hands in the basin. "Most of the village didn't make it."

Cullen let them speak as he stood behind Uthreida. Her eyes distance as she worked on the bread for the evening meal. Her arm was in a sling that dangled uselessly at her chest. Her sister's knife cut the top of the bread in small patterns. He sat beside her. Not knowing how to comfort her.

She placed the bread in the pan and set it in the fire. She stood and left his side. Cullen watched her walk away outside the home.

"Quiet, that one," Gwaint commented as Cullen looked at him.

Mia grunted as she pulled the pan for cooking. "Can't believe she killed a dragon all by herself. Is she a mage?"

All eyes turned to Cullen. He noticed the slight hesitation in Mia as she asked. "Yes."

"That explains it, then. Is she your charge?"

"Something like that."

Gwaint smirked at him and pointed to the fire. "If you want to dry your clothes, I'm sure Branson has spares."

"I'm sure he won't fit my shirts," Branson said with a smile. He tapped Gwaints pot belly. "Maybe one of yours."

"It's fine." Cullen stood and removed his shirt from over his head and placed it on the fencing above the fire. He tried to ignore Mia's inhale of disgust as his flesh. "I'm going to go check on the horses. Let me know when suppers ready."

He stepped out back into the rain and looked around. Uthreida was already at the stables. It was nothing more than covered storage but sufficed for their means. She was wiping off the random horse he commandeered from the camp to finish his pursuit. Her black horse though. As he approached, he noticed the horse watching him with both eyes. Horses, as prey animals, watched from the side. But her horse watched his movements head-on. That horse was a predator. His shoulders tensed as he stopped at the trough to wipe the smoke and soot from his skin. His eyes watched the beast as it watched him.

"Careful." She warned softly. "Shadowmare is not to be trifled with."

Cullen looked at her as her face remained expressionless. He wiped off the excess water and approached. "This…thing is a demon."

"Spirit." She corrected quickly.

"Of?"

She shrugged. "He was a gift to me from the assassin guild. Spirit of Sithis, I guess. But he's a good horse. Did you steal the Inquisitor's horse?" She looked him over as he stood in the soft rain.

He smiled at his feet and crossed his arms. "I did. It's the fastest in the stables and I needed to catch up."

She turned away and kept brushing the horse. "I told you to run." She said softly.

"I told you not to run." He matched her pitch and stepped closer.

She bit her cheek as she focused on the horse. "How's the village?"

Cullen took a deep breath. "Not at all how I remember." Seeing the smoke and ash and scorched bodies.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't get here fast enough. If I had-"

Cullen stepped behind her, gently taking the brush from her. "We do what we can. And as much as I am aggravated at your departure. I am thankful for your arrival. You saved my family. I'm grateful." She swallowed something. Keeping her back to him. "Are you alright, dear?"

She was silent as he bit his tongue at the pet name. "I'm scared that I have been lying to myself this whole time. They say fear and power show who you really are. Maybe I really am."

"Are what?"

She turned her head to look at him but kept her eyes averted. "A priest." Her chin quaked and she looked away.

He arched a brow and had no idea what she was talking about. "As someone raised in the Abby, priests aren't all that bad."

"Corypheus was a priest." Her voice was still soft.

He touched her chin to look at him. "You're not him."

She closed her eyes, hiding. "Not yet." She dropped her face and held back her tears. Her eyes screwed tighter to hide her fears more. Her face moved to touch his hand as a ground as her lips pulled back in pain. She took a shaking breath. Kissed his knuckles, and looked to the sky.

He bent down and rested his chin on her shoulder. "You're more."

"You want to see more, Cullen. I-"

"Saved thirty villagers? Who want to thank you tomorrow, by the way. Saved my family?"

"Called him here." She admitted softly. Cullen looked down at her with a question he didn't want to ask. "He was my friend. From Skyrim. I promised his safety. Then your men attacked, and forced him out of his lands. Then blamed me. Said I went back on my word. And when he beat me back, I-" her throat sealed in pain and she had to tilt her head. "It's my fault. I should've left when I had the chance."

Cullen took a step back from her. His hands fell to his sides as he looked at her in a numbed realization. "You, knew, that thing?"

"His name was Odahviing." She said softer. "He helped me with Alduin. Went against his king, to help me. And I, in fear, slaughtered him without honor."

Cullen was still trapped on one revelation. "You knew that dragon?"

She turned to face him slowly. Her eyes finally meeting his. His colors still held on her shoulders. "Aye."

Cullen held his breath as he looked at her. Shock overcame him as he looked down at her small form. He licked his lips and stepped closer to whisper. "It was your pet?"

"No." She shook her head slowly. "He was a friend. An ally. Not a slave."

"And he spoke. To you?"

Something in her eyes shifted. A pained truth that she could no longer hide. "They all do."

Cullen took a step back. His hands fell to his sides. He looked at her. Her pained stance. Knowing she literally chokes on lies. She was telling the truth. She played with her fingers as she waited for him to speak. Willing to wait for his anger or disgust or…something. He turned. A hand covered his mouth as he tried to formulate a thought and only saw her communing with dragons. The old gods. She saved some. Killed the rest. She is a dragon priest. "What are you?"

She saw his confusion and hesitation in his quiet voice. She raised her head to him. "I am Dovahkiin Uthreida Storm blade. I am dragon-born. I am blessed with the blood and soul of a dragon but with the flesh and heart of a mortal. I am the dragon of the north. I am the voice of revolution and the force of change."

All Cullen could do was laugh. Not in humor. It was equal parts fear and social inadequacy. But she didn't smile. She was proud in her expressionless mask.

"You?" He asked with a scoff. "You think you're a dragon?" She didn't move. She didn't have to. Something crossed her eyes and he swallowed back his question.

"Cullen." Both turned to see Mia looking for him. When she saw Uthreida, she dropped her eyes. "Supper is ready." She barely looked at Uthreida. "Will you join us?"

Uthreida looked at Cullen and he looked at her. There was a silent moment when neither moved. Cullen took a deep breath and put on a fake smile. "We'll be in shortly."

Mia bowed awkwardly around her and started back inside. Cullen looked Uthreida over and sighed. "This conversation isn't over."

She looked over the stables then back at him. "Will we be riding double back?" Cullen pouted in annoyance. "So I can return Shadowmare while you tell your family everything." She arched a brow and he was confused until he realized she meant everything. From Kinloch to now.

He tilted his head in a warning. "They don't need to know."

"I think they do." Her eyes went to the home then back at him. "But if you're that disgusted with me, perhaps I should maintain Shadowmare until we return."

His eyes flicked to the horse then her. Then back to the Kelpie. Not sure if how he will feel until after their conversation. "Let's eat." He said darkly.

She gave a low nod and followed him back to the front. He shivered at the lack of clothing as the wind caught him. He looked over to see her holding the shawl tighter. Whatever she was, it filled his heart with pride to see her wearring his clan colors.

He held the door open and she entered first. Cullen entered and fabric hit him in the face. It took him a second to realize it was a large shirt. "That'll do ya," Gwaint said as he used his crutch to cross the room and sit down at the table. Branson smirked at his brother and Mia hid her smile as she prepared the table.

Cullen pulled the fabric over his head and sat at the table. Uthreida sat on his right at the end of the table so Gwaint sat on his left. Mia took her seat and looked at Gwaint at the head. She folded her hands and bowed her head. Gwaint looked at Cullen and Cullen looked at him in question. "What? You're the professional prayer. Do something."

Branson snorted and Mia slapped him in the arm. "Apologies." He said quickly as he cleared his throat. "Please, Cully, what are some of the secret chantry prayers we never get to hear?"

He felt Uthreida looking at him with a smile. "Cully?" Her tone held back a laugh.

He bit his lips at the annoyance of his brother revealing his childhood nickname. And the embarrassment that she won't let it go easily. He dared a look at her and she only smiled like a villain. He smirked. "That's Commander Cully to you." She arched a brow and his mind was taken my thoughts of naught. He cleared his throat and stood.

"Are we standing?" Branson whispered to the table. Moving to stand. "We just sat down."

"I'm not." Gwaint leaned his crutch against the table but looked at Cullen nonetheless.

"I'll stand you-"

"No," Mia protested. "We'll stand with you."

"Do we have to though?" Branson asked with a whisper and a comical expression, still awkwardly squatting over his chair.

"Do I?" Uthreida asked him. "I mean." Her hand went to the pagan talisman at her throat.

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sit down." He ordered sternly.

He looked over to see Mia look at him like he had better remember who he was talking to, Branson looking rather confused, while Uthreida and Gwaint chuckled. Cullen felt his blood rise and took a seat. He grunted and held his hands out to the table. The family made the circle until he realized Uthreida didn't offer her other hand to Branson. And then remembered her sling. She looked across the table, her sling, then smiled at Cullen in apology.

Branson smirked at the show. She pulled her other hand but Cullen held fast. Not letting her run.

He bowed his head. He felt Uthreidas hand and decided to change the prayer slightly. "Lord of light and giver of all good gifts, we are grateful as we pause before this meal, for all the blessings of life that you give to us. Daily, we are fed with good things, nourished by friendship and care, feasted with forgiveness and understanding. In our times in life, we see darkness and death. We see troubles and labors. While these may wound or weaken, we know that we are carried in your mighty arms and endless love. And so, mindful of your continuous care, we pause to be grateful for the blessings of this table. We pause to remember the ones lost at the battle today. But revered that they are taken in your loving heart. May your presence be the extra taste to this meal which we eat in the name of your holy bride, Andraste. Amen."

He removed his hands but held Uthreida tighter under the table for a moment longer. Offering her strength in her times.

"That was beautiful," Mia said with a smile. She stood and opened the pot with a ladle ready. Cullen smelled the spices of rosemary and parsley that reminded him of the home so long ago. The broth was ladled into a bowl and passed to Gwaint. He took it and lifted a spoon. Mia waved the spoon at Cullen. "Guests first."

Gwaint looked at Cullen and groaned. Passing the bowl down. Cullen smiled and passed the bowl to Uthreida. She looked at it then him asked if it kept going. He shook his head softly with a smirk. He looked up to see Mia wanted to say something. Uthreida lifted a spoon and blew on a potato chunk.

"You better let her eat, girl." Gwaint gruffed. "She slew the dragon and made dinner."

Mia's jaw clenched and Cullen looked at Uthreida who blinked at her spoon. She put the potato back and passed Cullen her bowl.

Cullen passed the bowl back with a warning look at Mia. She seemed shocked that Cullen wouldn't take her side. Assuming she intended to starve Uthreida based on the fact she was a mage.

Uthreida slid the bowl back to him with a fake smile. Cullen pushed the bowl to her. Spilling some of the broth on the table. His eyes set only on Mia who raised her chin. "We can't house mages, Cullen."

Cullen opened his mouth to retort when Gwaint slammed his crutch into the wood floor. "Do your dinger. This is my house, lass. And you will feed her." His voice was a deep boom of familial authority.

Uthreida popped her knuckles under the table. "I have some hard tact in my bag. I'll Ah-" she moved to stand and Cullen pushed her back down to sit by the good shoulder.

"She eats."

"Or none of us will," Branson added with a forced smile. "Can we hurry this up? I'm starving."

Mia looked between her two younger brothers and shook her head in shame. She poured another bowl and slid it across the table for Cullen. The broth making spittle lines and onto his legs. He grit his teeth at the pain of the heat. "Thank you."

She arched a brow and poured the other bowls in silence. Uthreida placed a hand on his thigh and he felt the healing magic from her take care of the burns from the broth. He touched her hand to remove it but found his fingers slid between hers for momentary comfort.

When the dishes were served, the home was filled with a thick silence. Uthreida held her hand over the dish and called ice magic to cool her soup while the rest of the family looked at her like she was juggling daggers. She clenched her fist and ate in silence.

Branson cleared his throat. "This is really good, lady ah-"

She looked at Branson and smiled shyly. "Uthreida. And thank you."

Branson smiled. Resting his chin on his wrist. "I'm sorry, one more time? Cully kept referring to you as slayer today, so I never really caught your name." Cullen smirked as she sat up straighter and pronounced her name. Branson gave a kind nod. "It's very good. Thank you."

"Is this a Kirkwall dish?" Mia asked without looking up.

"No." Uthreida smiled at the woman who barely acknowledged her presence. "It's a standard venison stew. Made from a wonderful cut of meat and bones for the broth, Master Gwaint."

Gwaint chuckled. "Ain't no master, bhean-uasal, but I'll take the compliment."

Cullen chuckled with Uthreida. Cullen nodded. "It is quite good. I didn't know you could cook."

Branson laughed. "You don't get that figure from eating hard tact all the-" Mia hit him again. Branson looked at Uthreida and smiled. "Sorry."

Mia arched a brow at her brother. "I'm sure your wife would love to have the formulary for such an enchanting meal." Branson rubbed his neck and scrunched his nose at Uthreida in apology.

Cullen cleared his throat to stop Mia's patronizing, pointed remarks. "How is your wife these days?" Cullen asked as he reached for a price of bread. He noticed the loaf had a rune carved on it. He shot Uthreida a look who didn't notice.

Branson licked his lips and nodded. "Good. She has her hands full taking care of Orin, my son while caring another."

"Congratulations." Cullen dipped the torn bread into the broth and ate.

Branson nodded slowly. "It's been a hard summer, but, if we didn't make this trip now, we wouldn't have time to trap, skin, and process the hunts to prepare for winter. I'm sure you remember what it's like."

Cullen smiled as he did. Working with his father to tan and stretch the hides and prepare the meat for storage.

"If I may." Uthreida asked, "How long are you planning on staying? In Honnleath?"

"We're leaving in a few weeks," Mia said into her bowl.

"The reason I ask is because harvesting a dragon is mostly the same. If the village was able to sell harvested dragon, they could have enough income to pay for repairs."

"And what of your income, dragon slayer?" Mia bit. Cullen shot his sister a warning look that she missed.

"I would prefer the funds go to the people. I was not sent here by the Inquisition. So there's no reason for the Inquisition to pay me."

Mia lowered her spoon slowly. "If you weren't sent by the Inquisition, why are you here?"

Uthreida turned to her but lowered her eyes. She couldn't lie. Cullen swallowed his food quickly with a drink of the table wine. "We heard there was a dragon in the area," Cullen said. "But no proof. We just happened to be in the area and happenstance were right."

"So you were sent by the Inquisition?"

Uthreida jutted her jaw. "I am willing to offer my income to the people I failed to save so they can be housed, fed, and clothed from a quarry that I killed." Cullen held a hand, hearing the indignation in her tone.

"I'm sure it's not the only thing you failed."

Uthreida stood quickly and Cullen moved to keep her back.

"Mia," Branson shouted over them.

Cullen held up his hands to keep Uthreida back and tell her to calm down.

Gwaint shook his head. "Hold your weisht, lass, and eat your food."

"Made by a mage." The clattering sounds of wood and metal told Cullen she threw the bowl aside.

Uthreida snarled at her and he had to push the Nord towards the door. Uthreida met his eyes and he saw the fire in her.

"Lady, please forgive-" Branson fired but was interrupted by Mia.

"Do not speak for me."

"Lass, sit down, 'for you have a reason to stand," Gwaint demanded.

"No. You expect me to sit here and feel sorry for mage when they ravaged the country demanding equality when they are unequal to us. If it wasn't for Templars like Cullen we'd be as chaotic as Tevinter. Turning us into slaves and blood puppets for their spells."

Cullen's patience snapped at the woman. "I expect you to sit there and be polite to the woman who saved the village. Who killed a dragon single handily. Who has slain seven other dragons for the inquisition. Who just forfeited her pay for the betterment of the people. I expect you to remind silent and eat the food that was prepared for you without question. It's expected that you show some respect for me and my wife."

Mia's aghast expression and slow blink with wide eyes made him realize what he just said. Maker. His stomach dropped as he looked at Branson who held an awkward gaze of social confusion followed by Gwaint guffaw of a laugh. They weren't supposed to know. They couldn't-

Mia's look turned into betrayal as she slowly stood to see Uthreida behind him.

Her hand touched his back. He turned to see her. Her eyes closed a look of disappointment. She looked away from him to the door. She didn't want them to know either. Cullen looked at Mia with false bravado. Grabbing Uthreida by the arm and pushing both of them out the door.

He led her around the home, his heart in his throat. Maker, what was he thinking? Telling them! What was wrong with him? They wouldn't understand. Couldn't understand. For Maker's sake, most days he didn't understand it himself. A Templar and a mage? A pagan and an Andristian? Mia's expression. The way Branson looked at him. Gwaint's laugh.

What was he thinking? He led her to the horses and looked over the one he took. "We're leaving."

"Cullen," she said exhausted.

"Why didn't you want them to know?" She looked at him and paused. "Why?"

She looked away, pulling the shawl again. "Probably for the same reason you never told them. To them, I'm some heathen mage and you're this upstanding Templar that they don't know. Of course, they don't know, because you haven't told them. Of course, they don't trust me, because you never told them. Of course, they don't want me. Look at your society." She ran a hand through her hair. "This is exactly why-" she sighed. "I want to hold you up. To make you better but have you seen with me only bring you back down. I can't -and you-" she shook her head at the idea of it all. "I want-but-" she waved a hand to the home.

Cullen shook his head. She was right. He was so embarrassed about what they would think that he never told them and now… He sighed, looking over her. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I get it. I'm- this is temporary and no need to"

"I'm not ashamed." He said quickly stepping towards her. "It's just-"

"Cullen, stop."

"I just didn't know how to tell them."

"I'm a safe dalliance. It's…" she looked away, turning from him. "It's fine." Her body stiffened and she whispered. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to walk away.

She lied.

It's not fine.

She doesn't want to be expendable. Temporary. Not to him.

Any thought, any notion he had of ending this with her stopped. The two months of traveling to Dumats shrine, envisioning her next to him in the silence of the night, then reprimanding himself that she was better without him. That he was better without her. Believing it. Shattered at her bent form in that second. She's not fine. He belongs to her. And she belongs to-

He strode to her, pulling her into him and turning her. Holding her face in his hands and kissed her. Hoping his heart would say what he was too afraid of. Hoping she could feel his pain and ache of missing her.

Her hand clutched at the borrowed shirt and pulled him closer. Her lips pressed into his in a heated embrace in the soft late summer rain. Wanting desperately to keep him close. He rested his forehead on hers. Scared to lose her. Frightened to keep her. And not knowing which fate was worse. "Don't lie to me just to protect me." She licked her lips and looked up at him. He met her eyes and held her closer. "You're not some heathen. You're not a dalliance." He smiled, his thumb drawing her lower lip. "Nor are you safe."

She smiled demurely at him. She looked at the house then at him. "You need to fix this." She stepped away to see him. Her eyes drawing to the horses then him. "Don't leave them like this. Talk to them. I don't want you to advocate for me. Tell them what happened and what's going on. They deserve to know. I'll be here when you're done."

"No, we-"

"You've been avoiding this conversation for ten years, Cullen. Speak to them. They deserve to know."

He sighed. Holding her closer to him. Smelling her scent and sighing. The story of the thistle of Honnleath came back to him. "After I speak to them. Will you speak to me? About this morning?"

She clenched her jaw. Wanting to hide her own story from him. "A truth for a truth." But nodded. "I'll be here." Her throat closed on her words.

He smirked. "Are you lying?"

She smiled. "No. It's…a conversation I've been avoiding since I arrived."

He took a deep breath to counter the fear of his family's reprisal. "Story for a story?"

"I'd like that." She said with a smile. "Go. You can almost make out the argument from here."

Her eyes went to the house and he smirked at the screaming match.

"You better be here when I get back."

"I'll be here." She took his hands into hers and gave him a squeeze.

He turned, his eyes catching the red eyes of her black horse-Kelpie. "And get rid of that." Uthreida turned to follow his eyes and smiled. Cullen turned and took a breath of courage. Time to face his fears.

Xx

Cullen used his thumb and forefinger to wipe away the tears in his eyes as he walked to the rear of the house. He did it. He told them everything. Mia's curling brow of empathy. Branson's silent nodding of listening. Gwaint was drinking but was thankfully silent. His family knew his sins. Knew his past. Knew his trials.

But as he walked, it did feel lighter. Not that speaking about it was going to solve anything. But it did feel…lighter. Like he didn't have to hide anymore from them.

The smell of smoke alerted him and he turned the corner and saw a campfire by the stables. Uthreida poked the logs while sitting on a separate log. Still wearing the dress and shall. Thankful it stopped raining. It was late. He was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. He wanted to put off this conversation for another time. He rubbed his neck and knew he, she, they have been avoiding it. He gave a heavy sigh and she turned as he broke a twig underfoot as he walked.

She stood slowly and watched his approach with a lowered face. She waited until he made into the light before speaking. "They know?"

"They know." He said between a yawn. She covered her face as she mimicked the infectious action. "It's been a long two days."

She nodded slowly. "Aye."

"But we're not done yet." He stepped over the log and sat down. He passed her clothes that had finished drying by the hearth with a small loaf of bread on top. She took the stack with both hands. Setting the clothes next to her and heating the bread. "I noticed the bread had runes." She nodded. "Of?"

She smiled like a memory as she looked into the fire. "It's ah, a family tradition. You make little loaves for everyone and inscribe a rune on top. Health. Wealth. Peace. Serenity. The like. And whichever one you eat is your fortune for the next day." She smiled at him and couldn't help but return it. A nice happy memory of her childhood in a place of his.

"What's that one?"

Uthreida looked at the loaf in her hands. "Forgiveness." She ripped it in half and passed him one side. They both chewed the bread absently.

He scooted closer to her and leaned forward. Resting his upper body on his elbows and knees. "So." He looked into the fire and sighed. "Where do we begin with…this?" She took a drink from a bottle and passed it to him. He looked at the label and saw it was scotch. Another gift while she was in Denerim, he supposed. Probably from the king. "Where did you get this?"

"The king. A wedding gift. And a not very veiled prod for trade." She smiled at the bottle then the fire. "He also promised a mabari in the next whelping."

"Ohh," Cullen said excitedly. "A pure bread mabari from the kings kennels."

She matched his excitement with a smile. "I know. I walked the kennels and they are so" she hunched her shoulders to hold back her enthusiasm. Cullen could only laugh. "But he said 'we' would have to next spring to see the pups."

Cullen smiled. "Makes sense. Mabari imprinting is very important. Historically, well-bred owners of pups don't just hand them out."

She lowered a brow. "Ha?"

He cocked a brow at her and smiled. "For all your research of Ferelden, you don't know much about mabari, do you?"

"I don't." She sunk lower at him.

"Mabari choose their owners through imprinting."

"Like ducklings?"

He chuckled. "Yes. That's…accurate." He smiled at the idea of a litter chasing after them to keep up on their little legs. He rubbed his thigh and sighed. "We're deflecting. Dragons." He waved a hand at her. Then the sky, then her at ask a question he didn't know how to word.

She looked away, pulling at the shawl tighter. She took a deep breath and smirked. "Before the world, Anu looked at the Atheris and saw it's unchanging and said, this is good."

Cullen pouted. "Just skip to the part where it makes sense."

She chuckled but nodded. "Akatosh, the reflection of Anu, is one of three perspectives of Anu. Ari-El represents the past. Akatosh represents the present, and Alduin represents the future. As the dragon of time, his children are dragons. The dragons view the reflections of Ari-El and Akatosh and Alduin as the triumverant of the force of time with Alduin encompassing the end. The consumption of Nirn and restarting the kalpa cycle of time."

Cullen lowered his brows, not understanding a single word. He blinked slowly at her and she sighed.

"Anyways, because dragons are the children of the divine, or shards, they have a divine perspective of the world. They have a deeper understanding of everything around us. Their words have a deeper connection to where, and the purpose of things."

"I'm beyond confused."

She chuckled. "For example, ah, trees?" She pointed to a random one nearby. "What does the word mean to you?"

He cocked a brow. "A tree?"

"Aye. But what is its purpose? Where is its place? Why does it exist?"

He blinked slowly at her philosophy. "Living lumber with leaves."

She laughed again and smiled at him. "Aye. To you. As a mortal, you see the resources that can be used from it. You see the potential. But to a dragon, a reyth, tree, is so much more. Its roots hold the ground during the rain and absorb water for the shade of the leaves. Its body is a safe home for those who need it. When the leaves fall, they decompose and bury the soil for regrowth. When alive, it represents life to the natural ecology of the land. It works in tandem with the land and offers food and resources for the plants and animals near it. Dead, its body fuels fires and builds homes. That even in death, its purpose is to continue in the safety and protection of homes for all life on Nirn."

He leaned back with a smirk. "That's quite the poetic perspective."

"It's more than just trees, Cullen. It's fire, mountains, war, death, trust, wind. Everything. From deer to worms. Their understanding of the world is as close as we can get to the divines. And learning their tongue brings us closer to understanding our purpose and place."

He nodded slowly. He cleared his throat. "So, according to you, dragons can speak."

She took a deep breath, looking away from him and into the fire. "Aye. It's how my dragon shouts work. By using their words, their understanding of the world, their power."

"Can you teach me?"

"No." She said quickly. She met his eyes and sighed. "During the dragon wars of Skyrim, the Jills fled here. The female dragons, to escape the war. Alduin realized he was losing when Parthanuxx changed sides. He saw the mortals have learned their tongue and told the Jills to flee. And to never speak to any mortal again in fear they would use their power against them again."

"But you do?"

"Aye. Because that order was never made in my land. My people remembered the words. Knew the words of our ancient slavers. And used them to win the war. The dragons of Thedas do not want your people to learn them. They want you ignorant to keep both sides safe."

"How?"

She smiled with pain. "Both dragons and mortals are proud beasts. In my land, dragons were driven into extinction. Our people hunted them using their thu'ums. It wasn't until Alduin rose, so did the dragons once again. Look at your history. The Pentaghausts thought they exterminated the dragons as well. There is a balance that is required, Cullen. Humans don't want to be bothered by dragons. And dragons don't want to be bothered by humans. But when humans build farms and cities into dragon hunting territory, that's where we start getting conflict." She looked into the fire solemnly. "Before the dragon wars, the humans supplicated to the dragons. Offering meals. The weakest of their herds to strengthen it. When villages were consumed in plagues, the dragons would burn the villages, killing plagues. They would burn fields to make them stronger. Reinforce the mountains with ice to make them impassable to their enemies. It would yield more water in the spring for the crops. We used to coexist quite well. Then Alduins ambition turned into dominance. And dragons no longer wanted allies. They wanted slaves. Some books claim that the dragon priests grew greedy and sent false proclamations to the people demanding more and more. Others say it was the dragons themselves. But the end result is the same. We went to war with the dragon overlords and won. Hunting and killing each found. Up until Alduin rose five years ago, we thought dragons a myth. Stores of old to keep children in line and listen to their parents. But now, the dragons have returned."

He curled a brow. "I'm sorry, what does any of that have to do with their language?"

She smiled. "Of the few dragons I've spoken to here, they fear your people will remember how to use the thu'ums. And use it against them. They've asked me to keep you ignorant in this. So that you may never learn it again."

His brows raised at her statement. "When-where-when-who." He cleared his throat. "When, where, and who, dragons, have you spoken to?"

"Odahviing." She waved a hand to the villages. "Ah," she met his eyes and sighed painfully as she debated with herself. "Gorranyol of the Hissing Wastes."

"Of course." He stated quickly and leaned back.

"And Vensahmaar of the Storms Coast."

Cullen shot her an annoyed look that she smiled guiltily at. He slapped his thigh. "Let me guess-"

"You wouldn't understand if you saw me speaking to a dragon." She stated quickly and quietly. "You would've labeled me as a counterpart of Corypheus and would've ordered my execution forcing me to slaughter the Inquisition to save my own skin." She took a deep breath as she looked at him with a thin line on her lips. "I killed every dragon that I had an audience with to keep their secret and mine."

Cullen scoffed. "You've read our chant. Tell me, Uthreida, what secrets do dragons hold?"

She arched an annoyed brow. She looked at the fire. "Yol."

The fire before them grew in such immense heat and sent a small ball of fire into the sky. Again, her magic not touching the fade as he looked at her. Her look of annoyance didn't leave. "Tell me, General, what are you thinking of now?"

He swallowed back the initial heat of the fire and clenched his jaw. She had a point. Humans would use the dragons as means in battle. Theosidian dragon wars fought like… Corypheus and his pet. He lowered a brow as his heart waivered at a question. "Do you command them?"

She looked away slowly. "For a short time. But true dragons cannot be commanded for very long."

"But you-" he waved a hand to the village and the corpse that was still in the town square.

"Allied. Yes. Command?" She shook her head. "It is said that Talos allied with two dragons during his war of occupation. They helped him. But he couldn't uphold his promise. It is said that Olaf One-Eye allied with a dragon to secure his throne. And imprisoned the dragon in the process. Our dragons have learned not to ally with humans. As your dragons have learned as well. They have learned not to help mortals for mortal means. I command no dragon, Cullen. Our goals may align, there may be respect, but they are arm's length allies. Nothing more." She looked into the fire with distant eyes. "They can't be anything more." She called the dragon a friend. Maybe she was learning from her own mistakes.

"What would happen if we learned their words?"

She leaned back. "Honestly, nothing."

"So what's the problem?"

"It opens the door. I can tell you a few words. But without research, without an understanding of divines, they are just words in the wind. It means nothing to you. It takes decades to master and understand a single word from a mortal's perspective. But now that you know the word, seen what it can do, you might actually try. And you might actually succeed. Thus, I won't teach you."

He took a deep breath, remembering the heat of the fire, and nodded. "Right. So" he looked at the fire and tried to make a thought. "What does that mean, for you? For us?"

Her look was one of broken ideas and promises. "I am Dovahkiin. I am dragon-born. I am a dragon-made flesh. I am a dragon hunter. But I don't know what that means. Or what my true purpose is. I've seen what it means but" she held a hand over her mouth. Her eyes went back to the village. "I fear, that I am destined to become" her voice choked and paused at her memories. "I don't want to. I don't want to be a dragon priest. Waiting for the greed to consume and corrupt. But I don't know what else to do?" Her voice was softer in her diverged paths. "Do I climb the Throat to live in silence, forgo my power and destiny? Do I follow Talos and take the throne? Or do I follow Miraak and Manimarco and make my own. Or do I follow Whitestrike, growing in power with no real intentions or goals?" She shook her head with a heavy breath of her emotions. "I don't know what it means. What any of it means anymore." She looked at the fire in silence. "I know what I am. And while there are paths before me, I don't know which to take."

Cullen sighed with her. Not knowing exactly what she said, but could empathize. "Quite the mortal dilemma." She chuckled. "To be honest, I'm not even sure I understand what's going on, but I can see the issue." He looked over at her. "The Chant teaches that no one has left the wonder the abyss alone. That the Maker walks beside us no matter the darkness that surrounds us. That he will light the path that we are to take with love and understanding of his divine plans. So long as you move with faith and love, you will arrive at the destination that he has ordained."

"I know." She said softly into the fire. "I just fear that my greed will replace my faith like it has in the past with the other priests. That my fear will overcome my love and" she sighed as she looked into the fire.

Cullen nudged his shoulder into her. "The Maker made us out of love, not fear. Your gods made you in love."

"They were duped by the shadow of Sithis."

Cullen smirked. "That sounds like heresy."

She smiled with a single chuff of a laugh. "That does make me sound like a Thalmor."

They sat in silence. Unsure of the other's thoughts or feelings. He felt her tension on his skin and he wanted to lighten the mood. But a joke seemed out of place at the moment. "How do you," he asked dreamily, "how do you talk to them?"

"Like I am now." She looked at him with a smile. "Your people don't know the words. So, when I approach them, I offer greetings in dovahzul, and tell them my name. It's usually enough for them to piece together why I am there."

He arched a brow with a smile. "You greet them? Like, hello, I'm here to kill you "he smiled as he waved a hand in greeting.

She laughed at his antics. "Sort of. It's a formal greeting of respect. It's enough to make them pause and reconsider their chances of success. Again, arrogant, they don't."

He felt himself smirking at her. "How does that look?"

"You really want to know?"

He leaned back and looked over at her playful smile. "Yes."

She chuckled and stood. "For you, hold your arms wide like wings." She held her arms as instructed with her palms down. "Bow, and with a lowered head say 'Drem yol lok'."

Cullen arched a brow and stood. "So if I ever meet a dragon say 'Dream yo lock."

She stood and looked him over with a smirk. "Don't forget to bow."

Cullen arched a brow and mimicked her actions. "Dream yo lock." He stated emphatically and sarcastically.

Uthreida looked him over in silence. He looked up to see her smiling at his bent form. "Be warned though, a dragon that accepts, you'll probably be encased in fire."

He stood quickly with a smile he was trying to hide. "You could've warned me."

"They're dragons. I don't know what you were expecting."

He laughed and pulled her in. He looked down at her to see his previous depression was gone. "So, Valok? I assume it's dragon for…" she scrunched her face, not wanting to say. He held a finger to remind her she was honest.

She pouted dramatically in silence. "Yovon Valok means golden guardian." Cullen snorted and she sucked her teeth.

He paused and looked at her. "So, wait. Why doesn't dranonic-"

"Dovahzul."

"Whatever. Why doesn't that translate? With your" he waved his fingers to her chest.

She smiled. "I don't know. I think it's because dovahzul is a lesser Adria language where my" she waved fingers at her chest in mock, "only translates mortal tongues."

He looked off. Still not understanding. "Neat." She laughed. "So, when you said lying weakens you, does it do the same for-"

"Aye. It weakens them as well. The power of one's voice is their truth. The power of their understanding of the world fuels their thu'ums. Making them stronger. Thus, lying weakens their stance and understanding of the world and its purpose. When dragons fight, it's not out of anger, well I mean, it can be but" she shrugged. "Think of it like this: two people having a tug of war while arguing that Loghains retreat at Ostagar was willful treason while the other argues it was a tactical retreat." She shrugged. "They both could be right because of how they view the truth. But the tug of war won't cease because they both are right and wrong. Now, assume one argues it was because he was possessed and they know they are lying. Scared of being caught in the lie, that person's attention is divided between rhetoric and strength. And thus will fall to the one who argues from their perspective of truth."

He chuckled. "Kind of makes sense."

"Aye, so." She sighed, unsure of where the conversation was now.

He smiled. "Since my pet name is…dragon." She grunted. "What's dragon for darling?"

She shot him a pleasantly confused look but smiled. "Words of love and affirmation don't exist."

He pulled back quickly. "What? How cold."

"They're dragons. Further, love is a divine concept outside of the sphere of Akatosh. So, there are words for loyalty, commitment, sacrifice, hearts, but…as for the emotions of happiness or contentment or fullness of love" she shrugged. "They don't exist because emotions are weaker than powerful concepts. For example, there is no 'love spirit' but there is a desire demon."

"Yes, spirits that reflect emotions."

"Aye, but imbued in larger concepts than the compartmental feelings. They are but rivers that lead to a sea. These thoughts and feelings aren't one-dimensional but rather are parts that make a greater. Sprints, deadra, dragons, focus on the greater aspects to accomplish the smaller. You see it in worship. People focus on the facets but fail to recognize how it works with the entire individual. With the entire entity. They are but shards of glass that make a whole."

He smiled down at her. "So, with that-"

"I'm not..going to answer that."

"You don't even know what I was going ask."

"I can guess. And with enough meditation" she shrugged implying he'll figure out how to give it power.

He chuffed at the idea. "Does this only relate to dragon…stuff?"

"No." She shook her head with a smile. "In Tamriel, relating a proper name to things has power. Things that have a name that correlates it to their place and purpose give it power. So, names that we give are specific for a reason. Um, snow bears. Aye? Everyone knows what bears do and their purpose but to call them specifically snow shows their place in the order of Nirn."

"Right." He chuckled as he remembered her name for holly and mistletoe. "Right, so" he paused reviewing their conversations. "I am beyond confused."

She chuckled. "It's alright. The vail blinds you. I don't expect you to understand."

"Right. So, to clarify. You speak to dragons, but don't command. They don't speak because…why again?"

"Alduin ordered them not to."

"Right. And you won't teach us for their safety. Even though you use their souls for your voice."

"Aye."

"Because you are destined to…greatness?"

"Aye." She said in a lower tone.

"Because you're a dragon."

"Aye."

He took a breath with puffed cheeks. "Right." He looked her over and understood more of her actions from this. "And the Inquisition can't know because you're afraid we'll use you? We'll enslave you?"

She looked away. "Aye."

He bit his lip as he looked down at her. He thought of how he saw her when they first met, how Royoc is acting now, how the Inquisition is moving. How Corypheus is pushing. "You're not wrong." She nodded sardonically. "And all you really want is trade to help your people."

"Aye."

He nodded once. "You know if you told me this six months ago. The war could've been over. And you've…probably would've enslaved us all. But you didn't because…you're not a real dragon." She tilted her head and pursed her lips, letting him dig his own grave. "That's why you forced us to figure it out ourselves." She nodded. "It would've been you and Corypheus. Two priests."

She bit her lips in the truth. "Aye." She sighed. "I had the heart and mind if a mortal, Cullen. I don't" she lowered her brows and looked away.

Cullen reflected for a second. "Wait, if you had taken the Inquisition, you would've been a priest. But, since dragons avoid helping humans, your choice to not take the Inquisition, ironically, makes you a dragon. Does that sound right?"

She opened her mouth slowly but shut it in question. "I know you're trying but...that's not how it works."

"Right." He looked over at her to see her looking deeply into the fire. "Thank you." She canted her head confused. "I think you did the right thing. I think"

She rolled her eye. Her hands moved his waist and held him. "Weakening myself. Appearing smaller than I am."

"Yes. If you went full-on…whatever you do, Corypheus would have reason to escalate. Even if you did kill him months ago, we'd have growing problems with his minions. Taking it low and slow as we did is allowing insight into his tactics so when he is killed, his men will be curtailed and incapable to restart."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you. For that." Her thumb moved along his pelvis, feeling the ridge of the bone. "Our secret, right?"

Cullen smirked and held up his pinky. She looked confused at the action. "If I tell, you can break my finger."

"I'm going to break more than that."

He chuckled, pulling her closer to him by her waist. "You're safe with me."

She searched his eyes, her brows furrowing in pain. With a sigh of defeat, she raised up on her toes and kissed him. Sealing his promise with a smile. He took her upper lip, ran his tongue across, and leaned in for a deeper kiss.

He wasn't sure if it was sleep deprivation, or the nagging feeling like she should be afraid clawing at his throat. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as a joke crossed his mind. She pulled back slowly to look at him in question. "You're, rich…back home, right?"

"Aye. I suppose."

"And you have a castle?"

"Three homes, actually…why?"

He smiled wider. "Oh no, someone save me. I've seen kidnapped by a terrible dragon." He said high pitched with a dramatic flail. Her look of annoyance fell as she fought her smile at his teasing. "With her horde of gold and massive homes. In the mountains. Oh no. Whatever will I do?"

"You know, those stories generally involve eating the human in question."

He only smiled more. Taking her face in his hands. "Oh no." His tone husked as he leaned down to her. "Whatever shall I do?" Uthreida snorted when she realized his innuendo. Slapping his chest in play. He only smiled more at her. "Though, I'm quite sure finding myself in a dragon's stomach would be worthwhile." Her eyes grew wide at his heavy flirtations. "How about it? How do we spin the story so the human consumes the flesh of the dragon? The soft stomach." His voice went softer as he watched her cheeks deepen in color.

She swallowed hard. "You need to stop."

"What's the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue "

Her eyes dropped to his shoulders and she smiled. "I don't know, Lion of Ferelden, think you can keep it contained?"

"Well, I can certainly keep it occupied?" He took her lips in victory. Both smiled at the game but kept their lips pressed.

The sound of a clearing throat made them turn. Uncle Gwaint stood at the corner of the house and nodded at the two. Uthreida pulled her hands back to herself and stepped away from him. Cullen allowed her to step back and nodded to let her know he'd be right back.

He approached and Gwaint looked at Uthreida with a soft smirk. "Fair bonnie." He gave Cullen a lecherous look that he sobered at. He held his arm out to Cullen that had blankets folded over it. "Not much room inside. So, eh." He tilted his head. "Sorry, lad."

He took the thick blankets and looked at Uthreida over his shoulder. "We're used to worse. Thank you."

The old man nodded. Looking like he wanted to say something. Cullen arched a brow, waiting. Gwaint met his gaze and sighed. "Look, I know it's not my place but" he looked Cullen over again and sighed. "I don't care what Mia says. You're grown now. Given what you've done and are doing" he arched a brow at him nodded, "your da would be proud. Your ma" he gave a shrug. "Either way, she can keep the shawl. A gift."

Cullen lowered a brow. "Why would ma" he tilted his head at him.

Gwaint snorted. "She hated mages."

"No, she didn't."

Gwaint looked at him as if to gauge if he was serious. "You're joking?" Cullen shook his head. Gwaint sighed. "When we were younger, during the occupation, a mage escaped the tower and came here. He said he was a healer. I was sick. Ma was one foot in the grave while your grandda was, well, you know what the Orlesian's did to your grandda. Anyways, the mage lived with us for a while to heal me. Templars caught on of a mage in the village and came to see. Marian told them where to find the mage. The Templars rounded him up and brought him to the square. They told the people why he wasn't going back to the circle but was to be killed on sight. The mage was forcing himself on your Ma. Claiming if she told anyone, he'd kill me. Templars killed the mage. "he took a deep breath. "A few months later, village notices Marians stomach is getting a wee bit bigger." He popped his jaw. "On her way to the Redcliff for a cure, she came across a group of hunters." He arched a brow at Cullen. His father. "They took her to an Avvar camp. And she was healed." His eyes fogged as if in memory. "Holden came back, to check up on her a few months later. He gave your gran skins and meat for the winter. But ma didn't want her only daughter to marry some Avvar barbarian."

Cullen almost dropped the blankets. "What? Da's not Avvar."

Gwaint arched a brow. "Holden converted for Marian, Cullen."

Cullen scoffed. "He's not Avvar."

"Sure." He said with a condescending nod and Cullen couldn't breathe. "You left when you were young. You didn't see the obvious signs. I still remember his thick furs and beaded beard stained blue. Not the point. We can talk about this tomorrow. The point is, your da would be proud to see you follow in his steps."

"He's not Avvar."

Gwaint turned and hobbled back. "Speak to Branson." He called over his shoulder as he limped.

Cullen grunted and turned. He walked back to Uthreida in more of a haze than anything. He passed her the blankets as he wrapped his head around more new information.

"Valok?"

He looked at her as she arched a brow in concern. "I just found out my Ma was raped by a mage, aborted the pregnancy, and my Da was an Avvar."

Uthreida blew out a laugh she was trying to restrain. Cullen looked darkly at her at the dimming campfire. "Sorry, that wasn't supposed to be out loud. Ah. Da thing, that's hilarious. Ma thing, I'm so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

He looked at the haystacks by the horses and felt the day weigh on him. "No." He took a blanket and wrapped it around himself as he lay against the haystack. Sinking into the grass. His eyes fell to the black Kelpie in front of him. Uthreida laid next to him but a modest distance. He looked at the creature with a snarled lip. That thing is going to drag him into the lake and eat his leg off. He pulled Uthreida closer and moved to where she practically laid across his lap from the beast. Maybe keeping the master close would keep it at bay.

Uthreida placed an arm under his neck as the side of his face fell into her bosom. His hand went to her thigh that crossed his. Watching the horse…thing. And pulling the blankets over them.

His fear kept him from sleeping even as her breathing deepened. He turned his head to hear her heart. His other arm wrapped around her middle. Uthreida moaned in her sleep and kissed his temple. And hummed. She hummed a song he didn't know but wanted to. It sounded like a lullaby woe. His eyes grew heaver until it became black.

His heart was beating like crazy. The wind blew his hair and he tried to breathe. He saw the hoof prints in the morning snow. The hunt. His father's steady breath next to him. "Breathe." His whisper not even making fog in the cold morning.

Cullen's bow held ready as he looked across the forest and saw the buck. He needed to prove to his father he could. That he was ready to be a man.

"Control your heart."

He couldn't. His heart went wild at the prospect of making him proud and taking a life. Its life meant his life. His freedom to join the Templars. To serve. To protect his family. To live like a warrior in his father's tales, like a knight in Mia's fairy books. To serve the Maker as his Mother did. He had to do this.

"Both eyes open, Cully."

The arrow loosed and the buck gave a call and ran.

His father moved to track. Cullen looked up at the tall blonde man with a long nose and smiled down at him. "Where'd it go?" His smile indicated to Cullen to lead the hunt.

Cullen looked at his smaller hands and followed the blood and disturbed forest floor. He ran, leading his father through the forest. Finding it limping, licking the wound on its flank from the initial arrow.

"Fly true, my son."

Cullen heard the vibrations of the bowstring next to his ear. Watching the deer fall to his knees then lay down. Looking down at the beast as it tried to run from him. Tried to flee but lacked the strength. The steel dagger in his hands. His father's eyes watching without a word. Knowing the ritual. Knowing the placement. Knowing his hands were shaking, his heart breaking a rib against his chest, as he knelt to calm it. His small hand over the eyes of the buck as the blood stained the snow.

His father slid the knife into its stomach and sliced it open. Removing the intestines of the buck. A wooden bowl filled with blood. Cullen knelt down at his side. His furs of his hood scratching his face. Holden put two fingers in the blood. Their fogged breaths blocked his vision as his father slashed the blood across his face. His thumb drew a line down his cheek. He looked up to see a proud look on his father's face. And nodded. The blue paint camouflaged his eyes. "Ains og faðir minn veitti mér, gef ég þér. Ég kalla þig hér með veiðimann." Cullen looked at his father and smiled. His funny words that no one understood. Feeling the pride of the hunt. "Pray for the hunt, boy."

Cullen bowed his head and saw his father move in a way that wasn't Andristan. His special prayer. His hunting prayer.

A hand reached for his father. He turned to see Uthreida, in her paint as the Lady of the Skies. Her blue dragon wings on her back opened to block both in the shade. A soft smile at his work. Cullen looked down to see himself painting like Korth. Holden smiled with pride at his son. Crunches of movement and he saw his mother's face wearing the crown of Andraste. Of disgust and at the paint and annoyance at his father for the bloodening. His body was wrapped in Templar plate even as his face was still painted like Korth.

The Lady stood, a black wolf circled her in the alliance as the red dragon stood behind her. His father smiled at him and his mother looked at them in anger. Cullen looked down and saw the body of Samurilla at his feet. Behind him was a red lion and a black mabari. Watching. Waiting to see what he would do.

Xx

The sounds of hooves woke Cullen with a sharp intake. He looked about and noticed Uthreida was still across his lap. Three riders ran past them with distinctive armor. "Makers breath." He turned and shook Uthreida. "Wake up." She groaned and kissed his temple. Pushing herself back to sleep. "Inquisition riders."

She perked instantly and looked to follow the horses. She looked at Cullen then at her horse. "By the Nine." She stood quickly and went to her horse. She removed the reigns that tethered it and clicked her tongue. She whispered something to it while Cullen tried to come up with a plan. It would take them at least an hour to dress and prep the horses for a ride.

Uthreida slapped her Kelpie on the rear as it ran.

Correction, he thought with pursed lips, prep the horse for a ride.

Torn better needing a quick getaway and getting rid of the horse, there was nothing he could do now. "Get dressed."

"Was Royoc with them?"

He shook his head. "No. Rangers I think. Liliana's."

She rolled her eyes and took off her boots. "Not much better." She moved to pull up her trousers under her dress and struggled with only one good arm. She moved and pulled at the laces at her back. She turned her back from him as she pulled the dress over her head and put on her smalls. Cullen looked away with a blush on his cheeks. He turned his own back and replaced his leather jerkin and was ready to don his armor. Uthreida was throwing her black gambeson over her shoulders, hissing in pain as she slid her dislocated arm through as they each listened to the hoofbeats of the riders.

Cullen was tasked with retrieving the bags, weapons, and armor since it was his family. He argued logistics, she hissed, he threw up his hands in frustration. He grunted and went for the home. He looked up the hill and saw one of the three riders. And they saw him. The rider clicked their tongue and descended the hill.

Cullen retrieved the armor, bags, and weapons while telling Mia and Branson to stay inside. They were Inquisition Soldiers but didn't want Royoc to know them via Liliana.

With full arms and a sachel of travel foods from Branson and a kiss from Mia, he exited.

Outside the door was the rider. On a Ferelden horse and a smirk on their face. Cullen stepped out and the door closed behind him. The rider's eyes under the dark blue hood looked at his arms. She dismounted and stepped towards Cullen, helping with the load. "We have orders to return you and the lady to Skyhold, sir." She emphasized the lady when she saw the black axe.

Cullen nodded. "Thank you. We should be ready shortly but we're down a horse. The return may take longer."

"There's an Inquisition camp a few hours west of here. We can pick up the Inquisitor's horse there."

Cullen kept a neutral face as he looked at the rider. "We should be ready within the hour. Call the riders back and we can depart soon."

The rider's eyes closed to the home he stood before with a curling lip. "Of course, sir." She gave a nod and reigned back to the horse. But didn't move. Watching him. Waiting on him to reveal Uthreidas-

She was carrying half the load. He grit his teeth and turned. Walking back to the storage shack and revealing Uthreida to the rider. Cullen placed the gear down and so did the rider. Cullen noticed that Uthreida had bits of straw on her hair from last night and a hand went to his hair to confirm he did as well. He tried to ignore the knowing smile on the rider's lips as she turned away back to her horse.

Uthreida mulled through the pile of her armor before starting on her boots. "I need to go to Redcliff."

"We're going to Skyhold."

"I need to know why our men attacked Odahviing."

"MY men were ordered to not engage."

"Then why did OUR men attack?"

Cullen jutted a jaw as he worked the buckle on his knee. "First of all, you don't control a damn thing. So, my men-"

"Never reported a dragon was in the area. So why move?"

"Because your friend lied?"

She gave a heavy sigh, standing to apply her thigh guards. "They can't lie, Cullen."

He gave an equal sigh and opened his breast plate. "I'll look into it."

She shook her head. "Then we need to move back and collect Ragnar."

"He's probably already on his way back."

"Probably isn't definitive. You said you just got back from the Shrine. Meaning Royoc, meaning childish antics."

"You also said you just returned from Denerim, meaning Rainier, meaning-" he clenched his jaw. He couldn't very well say honor upheld. He turned to look at her as she cinched the belt and turned the banner on her hips. "We can send a raven to make sure our horses arrived. It's going to take us a while to reach the Inquisition camp. We can see from there." She gave a grunt but allowed it.

He finished strapping on his armor before her and started to work on the horse. Listing the things required and remembered. "the citizens they ah, want to thank you." He said over his shoulder, lifting the saddle to the horse. "And we still need to burn the bodies." He turned to see her nodding silently. "And" he swallowed back an idea he had yesterday. "I want to show you something."

She slowly turned to look at him but he looked away at her playful look. He let her finish in peace as they strapped their weapons to themselves and clicked the horse out of the stables. They rounded the home and he saw the three riders standing outside the home. His eyes turned to the house and saw that Mia and Branson had held true to their word and stayed inside. Cullen approached them with a lifted jaw. "There are a few things we must do first before we can leave."

They nodded and one confirmed with a "yes, commander." He turned and walked up the hill with Uthreida at his side. "Get on the horse." He ordered quietly.

"You get on."

"You're the hero."

"You're the commander."

He just his jaw and walked the familiar path. "So we're the idiots that won't use the horse as intended?"

"Looks that way."

"Get on the horse." She looked him over then back up the hill. He clenched his jaw at her stubborn pride, as they walked up the hill. "You are my wife, I will not-"

"As my husband, who has a higher social standing than I do-"

He held his breath so as not to yell at her. Her eyes moved to his forehead and smirked.

The village was doing what it could. Arguing and discussing what was to come next. Their eyes slowly turned to see them as they walked closer. Mothers holding the swaths of their children and crying. Newly appointed leaders are squabbling. Kirkwall all over again.

Uthreida looked at him with questions but didn't speak. Cullen passed the reigns to the riders and cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "Good morning." He approached the small gaggle. "I am Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisition. I believe I met several of you yesterday. I know many of you are grieving now. Many of you have lost your homes. But we cannot stop. We must keep going. The pyres need to be built to send the dead off. The dragon needs to be harvested for sale, and reconstruction is required. If you are a builder, a smith, a butcher, healer or leader, fall in on me." Seven of the surviving stepped forward and made a horse shoe around him. "Builders." A few roses their hands. "Take eight of the citizens and start preparing pyres of the damaged wood around the village. Have children collect tender from the local forest. Use damaged equipment first. Smiths and butchers?" Three stepped forward. "Dragon Slayer Uthreida has forfeited her pay to help the community. She will walk you through how to harvest the dragon. She will lead this. Do as she says. A proper harvest could mean the sale of the parts that could go back into the village. Healers?" None stepped forward. He took a deep breath. "I need individuals to gather elf root, sage, and mint. This will help the people who may be suffering from smoke inhalation. If the homes have burn balms, they need to help distribute to help the survivors. Leaders?" Two stepped forward. He nodded to the group. "Let's begin work. Let's start by clearing out debris. Every able body should be working to allow final rights to those who passed in a timely manner to begin healing. I know all have lost someone but it's important to keep moving. You know your stations. Take who you need to see that it's done. Dismissed." He looked at the leaders and nodded. "Sister Felicity." The older woman nodded and stepped closer with another man who was dressed in spot-stained Nobel garb. "I assume the chantry is still the largest building in town?"

"Aye, it is."

"Have the builders clear it first as it would have the most lumber to use for the pyres. Once clear, use the individuals who cannot labor to make communial meals for the people. Do what you can to rouse spirits and keep them working and calm. I can use Inquisition contacts to sell off the harvest but it may take some time. The profits need to go back to the people. The Inquisition cannot stay long, but if you need assistance, do not hesitate to request."

The older woman looked at him with squinted eyes. "You're Marion's and Herold's boy, aren't you?"

Cullen nodded slowly. "Yes, sister."

She nodded slowly. "Aye. We'll see to it."

He nodded to the woman. He looked at the noble man who looked like he was about to cry. His family likely in the swathes before them. "You'll need to pull contacts to keep Honnleath safe. Reach out to Arl Tegan and see if he can do anything to assist."

The man nodded and he dismissed them. He looked over to see Uthreida looking at the dragon. Teaching the smiths and butchers, but could tell she was suffering from her friend. He turned to the riders. "Make yourselves useful for the time being."

Xx

"Where are we going?" Uthreida asked over her shoulder as Cullen rode the horse behind her.

He smirked, wanting to get away from the smell of burning bodies. It had taken the better part of a day to organize the people and put each on a specific path to reach the objective. He pretended not to know Branson or Gwaint who was working closely with Uthreida at the harvest or Mia who assisted with the cleanup. In hopes, the riders wouldn't notice. He held a hand over her middle to pull him close as the horse rode over the hills. "I wanted to show you something."

"Aye, but what?"

He smiled as he looked on. Just over that ridge. "When Honnleath was a smaller village. They were raided by Avvar each spring. They would take off their shoes to move silently to not alert the dogs. The people, fed up, decided to take tactics into their own hands." He dismounted the horse from the rear and offered a hand to help her down. She slid from the saddle with a smirk on her face. He walked to the side of the hill and looked over to see a field of thistle. Uthreida looked at it and smiled. "They planted thistle so when the Avvar did invade, their screams of pain alerted the dogs and prepared the people for attack." She smiled as she looked over it. "I didn't appreciate this much as a child." His mind went back to his childhood. "There were always little places I could sneak off to. Don't get me wrong, I loved my family. My siblings were always very loud. But" he sighed as he took in the field of purple flowers. "My mother loved thistle. She loved that it protected the village. She would have us come here to pick flowers for her. I think she just wanted to get us out of the house." Uthreida chuckled with him. "I think she wanted it to protect her. Us."

She looked at him with a peaceful smile. "Why are we here?"

He looked at her and wanted to say something about her scent and how it reminded him of home. Of peace. But looked away as what she was destroyed his home. And yet, simultaneously saved it. "You willing walk into danger. I just…wanted to show you what we're fighting for. And what it means to us."

"Fields of flowers?" She smirked. "How romantic." He chuffed at her playful tone. But she looked away slowly. "This place brought you happiness?"

"It did. Still does." She looked behind him and he could see the smoke from the pyres.

"You were safe here?"

"Yes. The last place I've felt safe in a long while."

"Is this wise?" She asked softly. "Showing me the field that protects your home? After Odahviing? After…last night? Is it wise to be alone with me? a pagan? A mage? A dragon."

"If I've given you a reason to doubt" He rubbed his neck in stress. She was right. But he didn't want to let go. Even if everything in him was telling him to run. "Of course I have."

"I'm" she sighed, "allowing you a reason to doubt."

He sighed as he looked over the thistle that swayed in the wind. The guardian flower of his life. He took Uthreidas hand in his and rubbed her knuckles. "I'm still here." His voice was soft as he looked down at her. "I'm still by your side. Are you?" She met his eyes with a long look. "Still by me?"

She smiled softly. Her available hand went into his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. "Of course. From the shores of Cold Harbor to the gates of Sovngarde. I'm here."

Cullen smiled. "I don't know what that means."

She laughed into his plate. "I'm here. With you. If you'll keep me." Her hand fell into the furs of his mantle.

He held her by the hip and pulled her closer. "Of course, mo ghràdh." He kissed her gently with the scent of thistle surrounding him.

Xxx

Cullen watched the Soldier walk up to him. The lieutenant was on his side as the officer waved the soldier to hurry up. Cullen arched a brow as the soldier jogged to the camp. Cullen looked over to make sure Uthreida was out of ear shot from the midway camp.

"Commander." the lieutenant announced, "this is Private Hensley. He was stationed in Redcliff. Report."

The young elven solder looked between them. Cullen smiled. "You're not in trouble. I just need some information."

He swallowed back something in his throat. "What can I do for you, commander?"

"Lieutenant Brown informs me you were stationed at the dragon lair in Redcliff."

"Yes, Commander."

"Was there a dragon in the lair?"

He looked down. "Yes, commander."

"Why was it never reported?"

The private shrugged. "It didn't seem to be a threat, sir. It would travel south to hunt. It avoided Redcliff and farms at all costs. It only slept and sun bathed in the lair, sir. We didn't think it was a threat to the mission, sir."

Cullen nodded. Uthreida was right. It was trying at peace. "I received a report that our men moved to attack it. Why, when the standing orders are to not engage a dragon until the slayer can arrive?"

The soldier bit his lip and looked away. "A few months ago, the Inquisitor came through. He mentioned that a dragon was a threat no matter the intentions. He ordered us to attack as it was a smaller dragon and no need to wait for the slayer."

Cullen arched a brow at the idiocy. "The inquisitor ordered the attack?" the soldier nodded. If it wasn't a threat, why didn't he just do it? "Were you there?"

He paused as if ashamed. "Yes sir. But I was caught in a trap while I was gathering elf root for the team prior to the attack. I was sent here to recover, sir."

Cullen took a deep breath and looked around to make sure Uthreida was still out of earshot. He offered a small smile to the soldier. "And how are you recovering?"

"Well, sir. Thank you."

He nodded. "Thank you, private. That'll be all."

The young elf gave a quick salute and turned quickly. Taking an audible breath as he walked away.

Cullen looked at the lieutenant. "How many died?"

The officer puffed his checks. "Twenty, sir."

Cullen jutted his jaw. An entire encampment in a relatively peaceful area. "I'll see what I can do to reinforce the numbers. I'll inform the Captain to spread the troops to cover down for now until I can send reinforcements."

He turned and left the lieutenant at the fire. He clenched his jaw. What was that idiot thinking? Literal dragon slayer on contract. And he goes and pulls this stunt? Killing his own men to what? Make her look useless? Makers breath.

She was right. His men betrayed her. Royoc betrayed her pet. Maker, he's starting to fall for it.

He stepped to Uthreida who was sharpening her weapon with one and a half hands. "News?"

He clenched his jaw. "The horses have been received at Skyhold."

She ran the whet stone across the blade. "And Redcliff?"

He paused. "Situation of miscommunication." She made a sound of dismissal at his lie. But she didn't out him on it either. "We'll rest here for the night and make our way to Skyhold in the morning. I'm sure the inquisitor's horse will need the rest before we ride double back." She made the same sound. Barely above the sound of the stone.

Cullen put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. Knowing what she was feeling. But smirked. "Losing a pet is never easy." She stopped and glared at him. "Neither is losing a friend." Her glair softened into annoyance. She looked away, dragging the stone against her blade. "You alright?"

She looked across the camp slowly. "His remains are going to a good cause." She said softly. Grinding her blade again.

He smirked at her acceptance of the death. He wanted to lift her mood. "Care to join me in the tent tonight?" She sheathed her blade and drew another. She ran the stone across the blade of her weapon again. Cullen bit his lips at her obvious rejection. "Do get some rest tonight." She grunted again. He tilted his head with a question. He moved to sit beside her. His eyes on her weapons. "Do dragons have burial rights?"

A smirk quirked at her lips. "No. They're immortal." She looked at him to see a look of irony. "They believe they are. Humans make cairns for them. But they do nothing for their own fallen."

Cullen nodded. "It's going to be alright."

She stopped sharpening her blade. Her heavy sigh made him wait. "He was my ride home, Cullen." She tilted her head to him, but not her eyes. "I'm trapped here."

Cullen moved to hold her hand but she pulled it away. He took a breath. "You have the king. Right? He has to-"

"What if he's playing me? What if he never intends? Truly intends? What if you're right? And it's just a ploy to keep me here?"

He would be lying if a bubble of hope didn't fill his chest. He lowered his eyes. "Perhaps, you'll find a way." She gave a heavy sigh, dragging the stone over the blade again. He wanted to mention their hopeful dream again. But he saw the depression on her face. She had to accept it first as something more than a dream. "Is there anything I can do? To help you?" She shook her head slowly. He leaned forward next to her. "I think the kings honest."

"No, you don't."

He looked over at her. Seeing her future disappear before her eyes. "I have to believe." He said in hopes of sparking some faith in her.

Her blue eyes looked at him. A sense of weariness filled her. Exhausted from the betrayal of life. She returned her attention back to her blade.

The sound of footsteps distracted him as the lieutenant approached with a new missive. He looked back at Uthreida and sighed. "I'm here." He said touching her knee. "Let me know if I can help." He stood and walked to the lieutenant. Putting on a mask as he went back to work.

Xx

This has to be the stupidest thing he's ever done. The sheer embarrassment and humility of the situation flowed over him. Cullen ran the ramparts, holding his bits from patrolling soldiers that just watched their Commander sprint past them. Naked. Hearing a few snickers as he ran. Why did he think that was a good idea? He made up to the north tower and headed to the one-room where he knew some sense of revenge lived.

He wrenched the door open and slammed his body against the shut door. He leaned his head against the door to catch his breath.

He saw Uthreida look at him with a smile of delighted amusement staring at his face. Trying desperately not to look down at him in silence. Cullen moved his hands to cover himself up quickly. "Dost thou wish to feast on mutton and mead?" She asked with a smile and deep voice, making an obvious cultural reference he didn't pick up on. In a chair next to her was a ghost. Who laughed at the joke. "Get it? Heiðrún is a goat" she smiled wider, "whose udders produce mead?" She waved a hand for him to understand but flicked a wrist. "Has a goat's beard. Sheep stomach? Never mind. It's no longer funny."

Cullen tightened his shoulders at the spirit. Given the long hair, armor, and predatory smile, and head tilt, was a female. Enjoying the show. The ghost said something a foreign tongue and Uthreida tutted her.

"Uth-" he threw a hand at the ghost only to watch the women's eyes drop to his exposed body. He quickly snapped his jaw shut and hid his crotch again with a deepening crimson.

The ghost said something else in a very husky voice. Uthreida stood. "Gormlaith." She warned, pulling the blanket from her bed. She held it wide as she approached Cullen. She kept her eyes averted from him as she offered the sheet to him. Cullen eyed the ghost who was trying to look around the blanket with a smirk.

"Utha," he ripped the sheet from her hands and wrapped it around his waist, "explain."

"Cullen, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, the Tongue," she looked at the ghost and held a hand to Cullen as if to introduce, "Gormlaith, Commander Cullen."

The ghost stood slowly and took a step. She said something in her tongue with a knowing look at Uthreida. Cullen lowered a brow. This ghost sounded like Uthreida when she was possessed by the lyrium.

"She's very pleased to meet you," Uthreida said to him with a smirk. "And while I have questions," her eyes dropped to his chest, she looked at the ghost again, "we don't have much time." Uthreida stepped away from him. His eyes searched her room quickly and saw her blades. He stepped towards them. "Gormlaith, my concern is-"she paused then snapped. The ethereal ghost's eyes moved back to her with a smile. "I refuse to believe that that's not an option. There has to be a way."

The ghost crossed her arms and sighed. Her tone was low but given her hand motions, was trying to console Uthreida in whatever they were talking about.

Uthreida grunted at her explanation. "I refuse." The ghost retorted but couldn't make it out. "Then what's the point? All of this is just to-"

The ghost spoke over her with a defensive stance. Her tone showed authority even as Uthreida folded her arms. "Just because it's never happened before, doesn't necessarily mean-"

The ghost interrupted and Cullen took another step towards the weapons.

"They can heal."

The ghost scoffed and posed a question.

"The jills."

The ghost paused, a look awed confusion crossed her features as she mimicked Uthreida.

"Aye.

The ghost took a reflective breath but cut her hand across the air. Saying something else.

"They are the same."

The woman retorted something with a shake of her head. She moved her hands as she spoke. Cullen looked at the two women in confusion, still inching his way to the sword.

"It's not always about destruction, Gormlaith." Uthreida pleaded. "If there's a chance, I'll take it."

She canted her head at Uthreida with a harsh response that made Uthreida sigh. The ghost took a step towards her and Cullen grabbed the blade. The ghost tapped Uthreidas chest as she spoke. Cullen took a quick step but was stopped by Uthreida. She held a hand to stop him as the ghost kept speaking.

"Aye, but one does not mean the other." The ghost said something that Uthreida groaned at. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. The ghost made a question that made Uthreida pause in thought.

"Hallahaaslas." She said softly. Uthreida looked at the ghost and said it again. "Hallahaaslas."

The ghost shook her head. She moved her hands wider to show, something. But kept speaking to Uthreida. She looked away as if hope died as the ghost contained.

"It could work," Uthreida said more determined to the woman's arguments.

The ghost scoffed. She said something and flicked a hand at Cullen. His eyes went wide as he had no idea why he was introduced into this conversation. Uthreida looked at him, a pained expression on her face as she turned her eyes down. The ghost said something else that made her jerk her head as if in nonbelief. The ghost took a harder stance and said something in a low tone.

Uthreida met the woman with a stiff chin. "Why? Why can't I use this to-"

The ghost took a step and poked Uthreida in the chest as she punctuated a statement. Uthreida lifted her chin in defiance to the woman. Who arched a knowing brow. The ghost said something with a tilt of her head that made Uthreida back off. The ghost sighed, crossing her arms as she looked Uthreida over. Her tone was softer as she spoke. Holding up three fingers as she did.

Uthreida furrowed her brows in thought. "Miraak did."

The ghost's look of patience was severed at that moment as she glowered at Uthreida. Uthreida popped her jaw and looked away as if realizing she had misspoken. "Gormlaith, I didn't mean-"

Whatever apology she was going to make was cut off when the spirit's face turned into a scowl as she spoke loudly. Cullen pulled Uthreida back to him but she fought his hold.

"All I meant was is that it is possible."

The ghost moved as if a bear that was hit with an arrow and growled. It berated Uthreida and she took it with a breath. "If it'll work-"

"Pald er ekki. Pinn. Stoudar." The ghost stated lowly with a pointed finger at the ground.

Uthreida took a step back from the ghost, her face defeated by whatever the woman just said. The ghost rolled her shoulders back as if ready.

A long silence followed the women and all Cullen could do was look between them. "Will you at least ask what we spoke of earlier?" Uthreida asked softly.

The spirit looked at her, then Cullen with a brow. The spirit stepped towards Cullen and he clenched the sword tighter. He tucked his chin at the spirit as it looked at his face with a scrupulous eye. Looking at him, through him, for something. The spirit seemed to breathe but nodded. "Ja."

It took two steps away from Cullen and stood before Uthreida. "Thank you." The spirit nodded the thanks. "I still think you're wrong."

The spirit scoffed with a smirk. She said something with a shake of her head. It then bowed to Uthreida with a fist over her forehead. "Dovikiin."

Uthreida returned the bow. "Battle Tongue."

The spirit's eyes flicked to Cullen, shaking her head. The spirit began to glow in white light until it became a small orb of light, then vanished.

Uthreida took a breath, pulling her hands through her hair in thought.

Cullen felt his lungs return to his chest and could finally breathe. "What, in the Maker's name, was that?" She didn't respond or even register he was speaking. Keeping her eyes distant at the flame of a candle. Maker, what has she done?

Cullen dropped the weapon and took her hands. Flipping them to see the palms. He forcefully shoved up her sleeves and she fought him. He swatted at her fights and pulled her sleeves up. Looking for new wounds. New blood. Maker, not her. Please maker.

"What are you doing?" She hissed and it was his turn to ignore. He lifted the seam of her shirt to make sure she was-

Her hand whet to the sheet and pulled.

Cullen stopped in his search and froze.

His eyes met hers and saw the fury of her threat. He came to her like this, but he saw her speaking with a spirit. Humility be damned. He lifted her shirt higher.

She pulled the tucked knot of the fabric. Cullen let it fall to the ground as he kept his eyes on hers. She held his gaze and knew the second game she was playing. If he dropped his eyes, so would she.

He used his piferial alone. No new blood marks. His heart was in his throat. The impending fear of what was to come next. He reached with his other hand to her trousers, his gaze held only on her eyes as he made sure she didn't use blood magic. He pulled the lacing and loosened it. He dropped the fabric and both of them surveyed the other for weakness but unable to look less they see their own.

No blood. Cullen looked away, using his foot to pick up the fabric, and quickly wrapped it around his waist as she pulled her trousers back up and adjusted her shirt. "What in the Cold Harbor was that?"

He didn't understand the reference but heard the venom in her tone. He sighed as he finished the knot. "You were speaking to a spirit."

"And?"

"I was afraid you used blood magic."

"You could ask, Cullen."

"You would've-"

"What? Lied?" He met her heated and blushed look of embarrassment. "Ask me, Cullen. Go on. Ask."

He glared at her. How did she not know? He sighed. "Did you perform blood magic to summon a spirit?"

"No. I did not use blood magic to summon a spirit."

"What were you speaking of?"

"Why are you naked?"

"Don't" he bit back the embarrassment of the situation, "don't change the subject." She laughed awkwardly at him. "What were you two speaking of?" He felt the heat rise as he tried in vain to control the situation.

She giggled again, seeing his plan. "Don't trust me?"

He gave a weathered look of jade. "Don't make me answer that."

She smiled, but looking him over, she sighed. "I had a question."

"A question." He repeated with a dead tone.

"Aye."

"Which was?"

She heaved again, bending forward slightly and letting her arms hang. "I wanted to know if there was a" she puffed her cheeks, "a possibility that it was possible."

"What?"

She stood taller, but her hand went to her chest, covering her heart. "Of something different. A different path."

"Such as?"

She looked away, her jaw clenching again. "I wanted to know if this could be used for peace. If I could be used for healing." She took a breath, and he saw the defeat on her face. "But it's not my place."

Cullen arched a brow at the comment. "Since when has that ever stopped you?" A glimmer of hope crossed her eyes as she looked at him. A soft smile curled her lips and he questioned if he said the right thing. Given the fact that she can, apparently call spirits from across the vail without blood.

Uthreida humphed with a smile. But her eyes glazed and she shook her head. "No, Gormlaith is right. It's not my place. It denies the gods. I-" she gave a frustrated sigh. "But-"

"Utha," he took a sigh and wanted to know what she was talking about. Needed to know for Thedas. "Please, explain. In more detail. What were you talking about? And why did you bring up Miraak? And why did she get angry at it? And why was she looking at me like that?" His voice rose at the last question.

She smiled at his influx. She looked him over as if to measure him herself. "I wanted to know if there was a shout to heal." He lowered a brow to her words. It took a moment for the single words to click to make sense. Her dragon, shout, magic, thing. "Shouts have to be a certain number of words. Gormlaith pointed out that dragon shouts depend on the area. To have an area shout for healing, would mean that even my enemies would be healed. And if I save someone from death, I deny the will of Arkay. I deny Akatosh. I mentioned that Miraak didn't follow the rules, and" she scratched her head in sheepish guilt. "I may have forgotten that he's not loved by anyone. So," she sighed. "Gormlaith" she sighed. "Pulled me down."

Cullen took a deep breath. She can't lie. She wants to use her voice for peace and to help. He breathed again to fight the anxiety.

"Why are you naked?" She asked again. A chuckle in her voice as her eyes dropped to his bare chest.

Cullens shoulders subconsciously rolled forward to hide. "Why-why did you call a spirit to ask...that...again?"

"Gormlaith is a tongue. Was a tongue." She corrected with a look of thought.

"Which means?"

She lowered her brows at him to see something. A slow, knowing smile curling on her lips. "I'm not the only one who can do this, Cullen." her hand going to her throat. His eyes widened slightly. The thought never crossed his mind before that there might be others who can use dragon powers. "Others who can do this are called tongues. Those who use it for battle are called tongues. Those that use it for peace or to commune with the gods are Greybeards."

He took a step back and realized that if she did go home, Thedas now had to face an army of people who consume dragons and can shout doors off of forts. "Uhh-" If she stayed, she would have to conquer Thedas alone. With an army, of these tongues, she could be more efficient.

"Cullen?"

"I'm an idiot."

Her eyes roved over him quickly and she smiled awkwardly. "I Uh-" she flicked a hand at his current dress. Or, rather, state of undress. "Where are your trousers?"

Cullen looked down at himself and the sheet around his hips. He looked at her and still felt the panic of a pending war. He took a step closer and tried to phrase his question in a way that she couldn't coyly get out of answering. "What are your intentions with Thedas?"

She tilted her head in confusion. "What are you-oh" she scratched her head as she looked at her room. "I have no intention to conquer Thedas. Yet. Plans, aye, but intentions, no." Her look, while bored with the conversation, was honest. "Why are you in my room, nude?" She smirked. "You trying to sell me a staff, Commander?" She winked at him. He felt the heat return as she stepped closer. "Go on, let's hear your sales speech."

He took a step back. "A favor."

"Oh?" She canted her head and revealed her throat to him.

Cullen gave a shameful smile as he breathed. "Alcohol may have been involved. And cards. And pride. Long story short, I need you to steal my armor and clothing back from Josephine."

She snorted at his confession but composed herself somewhat. "So, how, how was card night?" She asked between fits of laughter.

Cullen arched a brow at the impending embarrassment and the hilarity of it. He smirked. "Wonderful. So, Varric spent most of the day getting us all together and trying to keep it secret, but I guess someone let it slip. We're all there, drinking and having a lovely time. The door opens, yea, and all the smiles drop as Royoc enters and smiles at all of us. And behind him is Varric trying to" he smiled and mimicked Varrics motion to get them to smile which was a pained expression on his face that was half apology and half please don't get me killed. Uthreida leaned forward in laughter. "I mean, aside from that, it was nice. Royoc…destroyed it. The man is a sore loser." Uthreida looked over his bare chest, his face, her room, his face, and smiled. Cullen sucked his teeth at her inference. "You going to help or not?"

"Why-" she bit back a laugh. "What's in it for me?"

It was his turn to look confused. It's a favor. A friendly favor that he would return. "A favor" he stated with a quick shrug.

She smirked and stepped towards him again. "You didn't see any of this." She waved a hand to where the spirit once stood. Cullen glared at her. Her prowess was becoming too much the keep secret. She can pull spirits, thusly demons, from the fade. Without magic. Or normal magic. At her call. In his silence, she arched a brow at him. "I'll take that sheet back." She turned her back to him, holding a hand over her shoulder to retrieve it.

Cullen gritted his teeth. His desire for revenge far outweighed his desire to run the battlements nude.

Again.

"Fine."

"Done." She sat on her bed, pulling her boots over to her. Cullen stood there, arms crossed as she pulled two vials of while liquid from her pack and gathered her black cloak. "Don't stay up. I'll be back soon." She blew him a kiss as she exited and he shot her an annoyed look.

The door clicked shut and Cullen sat on her bed, his hands in his hair as he ran through the stupidest thing he's ever done.

In front of his men, no less.

Maker. The men are going to talk now. He threw his head back at the sheer dumbass he was quickly becoming. And allowing her secret on spiritual communion to boot.

Fool. He's a damn fool.

He looked about the room to see her familiar alter. Her gods. Her meager offerings to them. He shook his head. He leaned back on the bed and smelled her scent in the blankets. That once held his scent. He looked at the familiar ceiling and breathed deeply.

Remembering the last time he was in here. Her look of defeat. Scolding him. He shook his head at the memory. Only for Liliana's late visit to resurface. She wanted a scroll. He lowered a brow. He did have an opportunity. He looked at the door. Even if it all went well, he had maybe thirty minutes to look for it.

Cullen stood. Needing to protect what was left of his honor and hers. If he can get Liliana the scroll, she won't out her as a blood mage.

He looked at the alter and nodded. "Sorry." He said quickly as he opened drawers to look for something he didn't know.

Her chests contained clothes, unmentionables, and articles he had seen before. Under her bed was the oak chest from the Avvar that was full of books from the library. Empty bottles in the corners. The only thing left was her pack.

He walked to the black bag and flipped it open. On top was the journal he had given her. He fingered the purple leather like he did all those months ago. He set it aside and kept looking. Books, ointments, gems. An odd-looking black cube with glass in it.

He found a massive key ring and smiled. Why would she...he shook his head. He had to give her credit for tenacity or stubborn pride. It's always the last key in the ring you're looking for. He jingled the five-pound ring. And that is a lot of keys and or patience.

He kept looking through her bag but didn't anything that looked like a scroll. He checked her armor stand believing something to be hiding in it. But it was cleaned. He looked about the room, finding places where contraband could be hiding given his own searches of mage quarters.

He looked over to see the alter again and paused. When did that get there? He stood slowly and approached the altar.

Resting in the corner was a long tubular white metal encasement. Bedazzled with jewels along the case and rods. He picked it up. Along with the gold bands at the ends were runes of a sort he had never seen before. He pulled at the ruby in the center and realized it was a scroll.

Is this what Liliana was looking for? Why? The white gold metal and even jewels would fetch a hearty sum, but why did she want it? What was on it? Or rather, in it?

He pulled the ruby back further holding the dowel from the top as he looked at a circular shape with intricate patterns like an astronomical map that glowed.

Cullen felt himself being pulled. Not in a physical direction, but like his soul was being pulled to the scroll. He tried to drop it only to see quick flashes of a black dragon flying over a cliff. Alduin flew over Hrothgar as he surveyed the lands. Alduin rubbed his head against Uthrimel, in a final goodbye, begging her to be safe and to speak to no one. She took to the skies in her massive form, leading the females to the mating grounds for good.

The massive barrier being created above them as the dragons across the land watched in confusion as to what it meant. The fear of the loss of magicka and the loss of their homeland. Watching as spirits and mer fell and crumbled to dust at its creation.

Demons laughing at the Magistrate as they lifted their arms in supplication to a confused dragon.

Andraste taking up her place at the front of the formation with a staff glowing with power. Sharan stood behind her with a smirk as Meltherath sneered at her adultery with the Mer.

King Calenhad and Aldenon, shaking hands with Cullen, no, Myrrdin, to end the war.

Darkspawn jumping into the mouths of an awakened dragon one after another and watching it as it vibrated into an archdemon. Feeling the darkness drip from the dragon's soul as it was consumed by the will of Sithis.

Emperor Drakon, watching his empire fall to ashes.

Fire as it consumed the known map. Moving and burning everything in its path moving North.

Uthreida as she slew Alduin in Sovngarde. But Alduin took the form of Corypheus dragon. The dragon falling to the ground. Turning to see him. Her hand extended as she stood on a map of Nirn. One foot in Thedas and the other in Tamriel. The map starting to ember from around her feet. Three blonde children run around them and flittered off into the sky like dragons. Each raining fire, electric, and ice.

The ice covered his eyes and when he looked, he stood on the precipice of Hrothgar. Standing at the Throat of the World. Before him was a man in ancient Nord armor. Overlooking the vastness of Skyrim's White Banner Mare to the White Gold Tower, to the sands of Elsweyr. The inlet if the Illic Bay, past the Summer Set Isles, to the shores of Sheron, to the Spoiled Princess Tavern, to the southernmost tip of the Sunless lands. Silent as the blue whale shield on his back. The deer antlers on his helm turned. Cullen couldn't make out the eyes of the man in a full-face helm as he turned and looked directly at Cullen. He cocked his head slightly as if to gauge Cullen. He took a step forward, then another, seeing through Cullen. Cullen took a step back and swallowed.

The Nord nodded.

"I forgive you, my child," Stuhn said slowly. "But can you" his leather-wrapped hands moved to his helmet, "forgive yourself." He removed the helmet and Cullen was looking at himself. His blood running cold at the ancient God of Ransom. "For what you must do. For what you must become. Will you," He said slowly in a voice not his own. Stuhn held up a hand for Cullen to take. "Carry this. For unity. For strength."

Cullen looked down at the hand extended. And saw his own hand reach for it.

"Stuhn."

Cullen looked up from the scroll and saw Uthreida standing in the doorway of her room, her eyes wide as she looked at him. Panic, terror, and confusion marred her features as she looked over him, and the scroll in his hands.

Her red hair and blue eyes started to grow fuzzy. Her black clothing became a blur as the lights dimmed. Cullen dropped the scroll with a loud clang and held a hand to his eyes.

The world went black.

"Uthreida" he called for her, panic sets in. Blind. He was blind.

Hands touched him and he shoved them off. "Cullen." Her voice was soft but held a sense of urgency. "Cullen, it's me. Let me see." He removed his hand but felt his body sway under him as her hands circled his face. "What can you see?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, feeling his heart jump in fear. Maker, he was blind. He could never see her again. He reached his hands for her and felt her arms, moving up her shoulders, he found her neck, then her face. His thumb found the scar along her cheek. "Utha. What's, what's happening?"

"Shh" she soothed, pulling him closer to her. "It'll be alright."

"Alright?" He screamed into the void. "I'm blind." She soothes him again and told him to keep his voice down. He ran a hand through his hair, keeping one hand in her face. "What was that thing?"

She paused, moving something metal across the floor, and pressed her body against him. "What happened?"

He searched his eyes for something but all he could see was the vastness of the black. "Utha?" His voice broke as the fear was overtaking him. The void pulled him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm here, Cullen. I won't leave you. I'm right here." She held his hand that was clutching his heart to keep it on his chest. "What happened?"

He took several deep breaths, trying to remember what he saw before the visions. "The scroll. I found the scroll." She was silent and he could feel her concern in her aura. "What is that thing?"

He felt her look around the room. She took a ragged breath and held his back. "I'm going to take you to the bed so you can sit down, aye?" She gently pulled at his back, keeping both of his hands on her at all times. He almost tripped over the sheet still wrapped around his waist as she pulled. She gently pulled him down to sit. "What was that thing?"

She took a deep breath and held both of his hands in hers. "Cullen, I know you're scared but-"

"Answer me."

She was silent for a moment and he felt his heart hit the floor. "It was an Elder Scroll."

He lowered his brows in the direction of her voice. "A what?"

She calmed him again, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. "An Elder Scroll. Divine messages from the gods."

He shook his head quickly. "What?"

"Elder Scrolls reveal the plans, thoughts of the gods. They hold the past present and future of Nirn. They hold the wills of the gods. But to look upon the mind of a god comes at a great price." Her hand circled his face, her thumb drawing against his cheekbones. "Those that look at them either go mad or blind."

Cullen felt his lungs not get full as he started to breaths shallower. His heart was about to explode from his stomach. "Blind?"

"Cullen." She said softly to keep him with her. "Because of your Templar training, it should be temporary."

"How long?"

There was another pause followed but heard the sound of a strain. "Few hours. Few days."

"Few days?"

"Cullen, breathe. You need to relax." He growled at her. Telling him to relax was the last thing he needed right now.

"Did you do this? Was that scroll cursed?"

"No, Cullen," she stated emphatically, "blessed." He quirked a brow. "Elder Scrolls hold the prophecies, the past, the planned desires of the world from the gods. Cullen, they are not cursed. They are divine law." He took another breath. He wanted to pull Chantry teachings and prayers but none were coming to mind. "What you read was the Dragon Scroll. It was my prophecy from the gods."

"What in the Makers damn light is an Elder Scroll."

She sighed, holding his hands again. "They are the god's eyes, ears, thoughts, and vision of Nirn. They archive the past, present, and future with all possibilities being correct. It is only after the prophecy is completed, does the ink becomes fixed."

"What does that mean?" He scathed. "Fixed ink?"

She took another breath. "All possible outcomes are recorded. It's like counting ripples in still water before one throws a rock into it."

"That's impossible."

"That's an Elder Scroll." She held his hands tighter. "The information, the wording is always right, even the falsehoods. Every possible past is right as every possible future will come to pass."

"Again," he said with more heat as his heart was about to break a rib, "impossible."

"As impossible as are the divines." She said softly. "As is the Maker." She paused, and he could feel her eyes on him. "There are very few people who can read them and it takes decades of training and mental fortitude." She held his chin and turned his head. "Mental fortitude like you were trained in." Her voice held a small smile that he could hear. His hand moved to find her again against the vastness of black. "That ability comes at a cost. With minimal training, they go mad, and seeing as his you still have a mind to question this, you have the mental training to withstand it." She gave a soft, slow laugh. Her hand went from his chin to the back of his head, curling his hair between her fingers. "This blindness is only temporary, Cullen. You will see again, I know it." There was a small sense of calmness that held in his chest as he looked, somewhere. Her voice calmed him.

"How many are there?"

"Ha?"

"How many scrolls?"

"Uhh, we don't know."

"What do you mean? These sort of magical artifacts need to be protected, safe from-" he heard her laugh softly. "What?"

She gave a humored sigh, her hands soothing him. "They are. They are housed in the Moth Priest Temple in Cryodiil. However, like the gods, they have a tendency to wander off. To appear and disappear without reason."

"People steal them?"

"Aye, but not from the temple." His look of confusion caused her to chuckle. "Only the priests can read them as they are kept in a vault. But the gods move them from time to time. For fun or for need is uncertain." She gave a heavy sigh. "Think of them like nails. When Nirn was created, or when you build a house, some of the nails were leftover but belonged to the home. And sometimes those nails end up in weird places that you forgot. Sometimes you find them, and put them in a jar. The jar being the temple. When you have a need, you use the nail, or prophecies that come to pass. The rest of the nails remain in the jar. Or prophecies that have yet to happen. Sometimes you thought you needed a nail, but you didn't, so you put it down. Sometimes, the nails just go missing." Cullen squinted his eyes at the darkness trying to understand and none of it made sense. She gave a polite smile. "Your confusion is understandable. I'd be more suspicious if you did. But even we don't fully know what they are. Or why."

"Have you read it? The scroll? Did you go blind?"

"Uh" she jut a laugh. "Aye and no. There are ways to read the scrolls without going blind. But-" she took a breath as he looked hopeful, "There's always a price that must be paid for knowledge of the Adera." She rubbed his hand to console him. "What did you see?"

His chest tightened again. He found it hard to breathe.

"Shh" she whispered and pulled him forward. He found himself falling and felt her breasts against his face as she circled her arms around him. "It's okay." She's whispered again, rubbing his back and curling her fingers in his hair. He held her tightly.

Holding her waist in his arms. Breathing deeply at the visions and felt his eyes sting with tears as he saw so much and had no idea what any of it meant. "I saw you." He said between gulps of air. She slowed her rubbing. "You slew this black dragon. Alduin, I think. Then I saw you kill Corypheus dragon but the map stopped burning and then children, dragons, -"

"Shhh." She rubbed his back, pulling him tighter to her chest. "It's-"

"I saw it." He said deeper, more fear crossing his heart. "I saw Skyrim from the Throat. I-" he breathed shallower. Unsure of what he saw was real or all an illusion. He felt the wind, he saw the sun, he saw the towers that reached the skies. "I saw him."

"Who?" There was caution in her voice as she slowed.

He shook his head. "I don't know. He was wearing iron armor with horns on his helmet like a deer and-" he clenched his jaw and buried his face deeper, holding her tighter. "He had my face. My da's face."

"What was his name?"

"I don't know. But I felt-I heard" he hid away from her, pulling her into him as if to pretend it never happened. Her hands went to his back and soothed him. "He said he forgave me. I said-"

He felt her move in his arms and he held her tighter to him. She gave a soft sigh and moved. He felt her straddle his hips to get closer to him. The fear, the confusion, the unwashed sins of his past all hit him at that moment and he let go. Letting himself cry into her chest as his hands grabbed at her shirt, wanting to feel her flesh under his fingers. His throat choked up at the deep fearful sobs. His shoulders quaked against her as she held him, stroking his hair and cheeks with soft kisses to his head and temples. Telling him his trial was done. That he was blessed. That he was found worthy. That he is a good man.

Her words were too kind. She was too kind. He was a monster compared to this beautiful hunter.

He took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of his shoulders from being spent and the dampness of her shirt, he yawned.

She chuckled sweetly. "Do you want to lay down?"

"I should" he hid his face from her as she leaned back to look at him. "I should go."

"Not like this." She moved to cup his chin to look at her but he held her tighter. Not wanting her to see the shame in his face or the red of his eyes or the sniveling. "Cullen" she said a little sterner. "My legs are numb."

He cuffed slightly at the levity of the night. He slowly released her, realizing just how far under her shirt his hands went to touch her soft, scarred skin. It took a few minutes of gently pulling and directing or letting him lay down without hitting his head on anything. The small remainders of fear of not being able to see still sent shudders through him.

She moved to leave the bed and he held her. Finding her hand as it grazed across his abdomen. "Don't leave." He said quickly, unsure if he could face the darkness alone.

"I'm just taking off me boots." She moved so he could feel her next to him as she completed the task as the second boot hit the ground. "Cullen" she said softly above a whisper. "Why did you read the scroll?"

Cullen felt his heart shrink, and bit his lip, slowly releasing it. He reached out for her and grabbed into something. "Come back to bed."

She didn't move for a moment, feeling her eyes in him as his face was probably red from the tears and still only wearing her bedsheet. She moved and laid next to him. He raised his head when her arm moved to hold him again.

He followed her arm over her chest and up to her head. He smote the area just in case. He felt for horns, running his fingers through her hair. His thumb trailed her left side to find the scar.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking for" he clenched his jaw as he placed his head in her chest again. "For horns."

She chuckled softly, her hand that was under his head went back to his hair as she held him again. Both of them on their sides in her small bed. "Where was the scroll?"

He swallowed. "On your altar."

She took a deep breath, the silence making him think he forgot something. "Why did you read it?"

He took her hand that was draped across his middle. Without thought, he pulled it to his lips and kissed her knuckles, her thumb, and then her wrist. He was so sorry. "Liliana wanted it." He couldn't see her face in the darkness but felt her grow stiff. "I wanted to know what she wanted."

She pulled his head back gently. "When did she approach you?"

"That night." He said, turning his face from her, holding her hand to his heart.

"Which night?"

He smirked. He released her hand and trailed down her body and he found what he was looking for. He grabbed a hand full of her rear and shook it urgently.

She laughed softly at his antics. "Ah."

He gave an appreciative pat before holding her hand in his again. "She threatened to expose you," he said slowly, kissing her wrist again in apology, "as a blood mage." She was silent but he felt her heart skip a beat. "And to expose me as your thrall."

Uthreida rolled away from him to lay on her back. She pulled him in to get closer. In the silence, she rubbed her thumb over his, comforting him. "Liliana is the reason I went back to your bed." Cullen tilted his head to hear her, knowing he wouldn't see her in the darkness. "She wanted me to distract you." Her voice was distant, cold, and afraid of his reaction.

Cullen felt the bile crawl up in his throat at the idea of the spymaster betraying both of them and harming the Inquisition. "From?"

She took a deep breath. "That your tactical victory in Adamant secured your position for now as Royoc has been trying to replace you with every other general in Southern Thedas by citing your addiction to lyrium as a folly. Saying that your addiction made your training ineffective, unresponsive to the men's supplies in the field, and questionable leadership due to your inability to follow orders." Cullen grit his teeth even as her actions soothed him. "We both know that Royoc was either actually trying to replace you, or trying to make the Inquisition look weaker than it actually is. Either way, she asked me to control you. To distract you so Royoc would have grounds for a replacement. Someone he could control. But the reality is Liliana wanted to keep you informed of her movements so you could counter them. It was a show for the Inquisitor."

Cullen took a breath. He knew this was too good. That this false heaven, this haven, was a lie. He pulled his hand from her but she refused to let go. "Why did you? Why did you start this?"

She was silent, he could feel her take a deep breath. "She threatened my weakness."

"Which was?" He bit. She swallowed hard. Her hand became tighter in his as she held his hair tightly in her hand. "Your throat?"

"It's a little further down."

He heard her heart beat faster and he took it in. Liliana threatened him. She threatens Uthreida weakness. He was, maker. He was her-

He tried to look at her face to confirm only to remember he was blind. But her fisted hand in his hair prevented him from moving. "Liliana told me what happened in Kinloch. She told me the physical signs of the torture endured. She told me of her plan to remove you. But all I heard was that you needed help." Her hand loosened in his hair. Running her nails across his scalp gently. "I wanted to help you. To help you stand on your own. To help you think, move, and act like the general I know you can be. I wanted you to" she took a breath to kiss his temple. "I wanted your atonement, your penitence, to mean something."

Cullen was silent. Taking in her words and listening to her heart. He pulled her closer to him. Maker, he did need her. And if not for her, he didn't know if he would've made it this far.

"I assumed weakening you was a ploy to humiliate Cassandra for the Sunburst throne. If she made the decision to pick you for the Commander, and you failed, where else would she fail as Divine? Not that I want Cassandra on the throne, but I couldn't watch you fall either. Not with our oaths, our marriage. As time progressed," she continued, rubbing his shoulder, her fingertips dancing along scars, "it felt wrong. You knew of my past. I didn't want you to live in a memory and I didn't want to recreate one. And as much as we wanted to keep emotions out of it, it all got of hand."

Cullen was silent. He didn't want to lie to correct her, but he wasn't ready to come clean. So, he didn't speak. Unable to speak. Unable to reconcile the fact that she just admitted the same thing.

"Cullen." Her voice was soft, but he could hear the tension. "I've got a feeling they're going to use this to kill us."

He gave a heavy sigh, releasing her slightly. "Probably." He admitted, letting his hand move up to run his fingers through her hair. "Though, Liliana's already shown her hand. She's going to try you as a blood mage. And the only way I can prove I'm not a thrall is to" he stopped speaking, the idea becoming more real. His hand slipped below her shoulder. He took a breath and spoke through the fear in his throat. "Liliana intends for us to hold our oaths. She'll pit us against one another." His fingers found the seam of her shirt and he rubbed against it. "She'll show that I stole the scroll, and showcase how you were ordered to sleep with me. Biding on our anger. And will throw us in a ring."

Uthreida took a measured breath. "If you win, you have the reputation of being manipulated by possible blood mages that will shadow Cassandras rule, making people question her competency. If I win, I slaughter the Inquisition and start a war with Thedas." She sighed. "Best she not know that we know then." Uthreida kissed his forehead again, finding his hand and placing it over her heart. "If that's her ploy to take Cassandra out of the running for the throne, what is she doing against Vivienne?"

Cullen took a deep breath. "Vivienne has Royoc's backing."

Uthreida paused. "What?" The venom scathed her tone. "All of this, the war, the rebellion, for the status quo?"

Cullen arched a brow but sat up on his elbow to look at her, and remembered he was blind. He tried to pretend that it was just a dark night to keep the dread of being permanently blind. "I get it, having a mage Divine would be-?"

"She wants everything to be as it was." She stated vehemently. "The circles, lyrium Templars, fewer rights for mages-"

"Safety of the people." Cullen retorted. "Safety of the mages."

"Disillusionment between humans and Mer."

Cullen lowered his brows, wanting to see her face to know her thoughts. "Wait, so who do you want to be the next Divine."

"Well, I mean Liliana, but-"

Cullen dropped his head on her chest. "Are you serious? After everything?"

"I may not be a fan of our current situation, but you got to admit she's ruthless." He heard the smile in her voice even as she chuckled. She sobered, running her fingers through his hair. "Still, how much backing does Vivienne have? How will she undermine-"

"If you, a mage, kill the Inquisition, no one will trust mages again." He said quickly, realizing the exact situation they were in. No matter who lost, Liliana won.

"No." She said quickly. "Vivienne has pull from the nobles."

Cullen scooted closer. "Why do you say that?" Unsure of her thoughts.

"Why do you think Royoc is fucking Josephine?" Cullen forced his lips in a line. She had a point. "He's using her reputation to back Vivienne. Liliana is using us as collateral to ensure it all falls. If the Inquisitor can't vet his own contractors, how can he say that Vivienne is the best choice?"

"Josephine would never do that."

"If you think she is that foolish, you should speak to her more often. She backed this because it got Cassandra out of the way. And now, both of them stand an equal chance. The next divine will be decided on who wins our fight."

Cullen lowered his brows memories of Josephine's hidden smiles in meetings after a night with Uthreida. "What do you mean, backed?"

She was quiet for a time and he felt his heart hammer in his throat. "She was present when Liliana approached me."

Cullen jutted his jaw. Can't. Trust. Women. He gave a hard breath and let his quiet rage fill him. Of course, no one believes in him to do this because he was in the way. Cassandra needed him to succeed against his addiction to show that she was right and can lead the chantry. Royoc needed him gone so he can start moving his forces where he pleases without oversight. He 'saved' the mages just to round them up in one location so they hold be chained back in the circle. Backing Vivienne allowed him full animosity as the only way she would rise is from his will alone.

Fuck.

And his foreign wife was the first to figure all of this out on her own.

He's such an idiot. How did he not see this before?

Royoc wanted to know how to kill Templars in case the chantry came after him. He married Celine to Gaspard knowing those two would have constant in-house bickering and hold Orlais back without a unified leadership. He choose to abandon Hawke in the fade so the traitor Loghain would lead the uprising against the disbanded Wardens. And with him, chosen by the Maker, and beloved by the people, no one would question him. There wouldn't be a unified force in all of Thedas that would stand against the Inquisition. And Cullen was too honorable to keep his seat as Royoc straddled the world.

He grit his teeth and growled under his breath. "Fuck." There was a surprised shock from Uthreida as he cursed. But she didn't say anything. "I'm such an idiot."

She giggled. "It is only when we are blind, so we see the world with clarity." She laughed again and he smiled at the statement.

He pulled her tighter, burying his face in her chest. "So, dear," he stated with a frown. "Now what? It appears to be us against the Inquisition."

She felt her grow more comfortable in his arms as her hands went to his hair. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I mean," he said with a loud exhale.

"I know what you meant." She moved her fingers as if to try and braid his short hair. "They won't move until after Corypheus is defeated. We have time."

"And then what?"

She took a deep breath, her fingers no longer playing with his hair as she rubbed his back and shoulders. Her fingers careful of his scars. "I don't know. But, we have to play like we don't know their motives."

"Incompetence got us here."

"And it will see us out." She said with hope in her voice.

He arched a brow at her lack of a plan. "Utha." He warned.

She was silent in thought. The beating of her heart was his only measure of time as he tried to formulate a plan. "Want to visit Skyrim?"

Cullen chuckled, unsure if she was changing the subject or if that was her plan. "Your plan is to run away?"

"Don't want to be here when the real war starts so" she shrugged.

Cullen liked the idea, running. Starting over. With her. In her home. But he felt his heart sink. For all his sins, the Inquisition was his atonement. And now, he could see what Royocs plans were. He had to do something to change this. To fix this before the same thing happens to all of Thedas like Kirkwall. "I can't leave." He said with a solemn tone. "My place is here."

He felt her stomach contract even in her silence. Her jaw moved against his forehead and was again angered that he couldn't see her face. She moved to cup his cheek to her. "Then, we have to be better. Smarter."

He scoffed. Easier said. He clenched his jaw. Knowing that Liliana wanted to distract him, he needed to start thinking like her. How can he position the forces, train the army in such a way that they will not move without his word. Or rather, go behind Royocs back to regain control. Now that the symptoms weren't as bad, mostly due to Uthreida and Cassandra, he had a chance to start again.

"My contract ends when the dragon dies." She said softly. "I cannot protect you after that. Whatever you do, you need to move strategically. Start thinking long term."

He took a breath. "Or," he felt his heart climb into his throat at the idea. "You could stay. As my wife. In the hold." He smiled. "Royoc sees you as a threat. He could-"

"I've already been manipulated." She said quickly. "They know how to get to me."

"Liliana does. He doesn't."

"Josephine knows. He knows." She made a sound like a single laugh. "Besides, I have sworn trade with King Alistair." She said softly. "I don't believe that I could stay." He clenched his jaw. Maker, just let her stay. Knowing she was leaving always drew him back. Always made him fearful to cross that line. And he would have to let her go knowing he wasn't enough. "And I do not trust Ulfric. I-"

He pulled her against him, shoving his other arm under her to hold her. He pulled up to kiss her throat before hiding in her chest again. She made a happy moan as her nails gently raked across his back. They lay in the silent darkness, holding one another. Not knowing what the future held but content in the present.

"Can you see?" Cullen opened his eyes and still only saw the blackness. He shook his head, hiding again in her chest. "I'll leave the candle lit then. You've had a long night. Get some rest." She spoke softly, a whisper that soothed his fears. "I'll keep you safe."

He curled up and - "do you get my armor?"

She laughed at his new wave of panic and she cupped his face again, her thumb running along his scar. "Aye. But, you have to get with Josephine for the furs. I couldn't find them in her quarters."

He relaxed again. He kissed her throat again in thanks, letting the heaviness of the day wash over him as he inhaled her scent and exhaled a smile for her calming aura.

After a few moments, he was doused by a bright light. He opened his eyes to see a familiar ceiling. Her ceiling. He inhaled and smelled her scent of thistle and holly mixed with his own sweat. He looked over to see her look away, feigning sleep. He arched a brow, looking at her.

She opened her eyes, her face drawn in thought as she slowly looked up to see his eyes. He watched in silent fascination the light from the room slid over her cheekbones and into the hollow. How her eyes reflected so much. Her soft smile as she looked at him like she was excited and holding herself back. Pleasure filled him as she looked only at him, taking in all of his face from his hair to his chin. Watching her with a knife in his heart as all he wanted to do was grab her they the halo of her red hair and -

He bolted up. "I can see." He grabbed her by the shoulders as she looked away with a pang of embarrassed guilt only to smile awkwardly at his excitement. He wasn't blind. "I can see."

Her smile turned genuine as he sat over her. "Aye. Told you it wouldn't last for long." She said over a yawn.

He sat up, a stupid grin on his face as he rammed his hands through his hair. "Oh, blessed is the Maker." He covered his face with a hand. "For there is no darkness in his light."

He looked back at her as she sat up. She used both hands to move her waived hair off her back and over a shoulder so she could rest against the headboard. "How do you feel?" Her eyes were genuine as she looked at him, a small blush creeping into her cheeks.

He yawned at the question but was still smiling. "Better than I did last night." He watched as her eyes lowered to his exposed back. Her lids dropped as she watched him unabashed. Cullen felt both vulnerable and amusingly appreciated. "What?"

Her smirk curled into a grin. "Is it weird that I want to strip the skin from your back just to watch your muscles work?"

He looked at her with awkward confusion. He supposed it was a compliment. Of sorts. "Yes. Yes, it is." She gave a nod, but turned her head from him, a smile playing on her lips. Cullen realized that he was still completely naked. And the sheet had loosened in his sleep. He cleared his throat and his own blush. "You got my armor, right?"

"It's over there." She pointed to the door while a hand moved her hair to act as a curtain so she wouldn't see him. Hiding her face.

Cullen held the sheet to him with one hand as he exited the bed, making sure his person was decent enough. He looked at her from his pherifal and noticed she had moved her blanket to hide her face as she laid back down.

He smiled as she honored his prudence and looked out the window. "What time is it?"

"It's late." She said after a shrug.

"Why did you let me sleep in?"

She made an annoyed sound. "I wanted to make sure you were healed before I sent you on your way." She waved her arms from the bed.

Cullen found his clothes shoved into the pillowcase and started to unpack them. He noticed that not only were his furs and cloak missing, so were his smalls. He dressed as quickly as he could to allow her some reprieve. He started to work on the armor when he heard her stand from the bed. He looked over to see her approach with her oversized white linin shirt, deep purple breeches, and pink striped socks. The socks made him smile. She took it in stride as he prepared the armor on his legs.

She had undone a few buckles in his upper armor but seemed to prepare it for him.

He stood and she hefted it so he could slip it on one side at a time. As he worked the gorget, she was working the shoulders and the side buckles.

Even though she hated this armor, she still helped him in it. Securing each strap and buckle to him. And even though it fit like a glove, a part of him knew it wouldn't budge in battle because she buckled it. She would ensure the buckles were good. Mostly because he was sure her blacksmithing and nagging would let him know if he needed a new belting or buckles.

He let her fasten the pauldrons to his arms as he started the vembracers for his forearms. He would work one buckle while she did another. What normally took thirty minutes with one hand was reduced to half the time. It could've gone faster if he wasn't taking pleasure in her soft smiles, wild hair that smelled of thistle, and her patience at his 'monstrous' armor.

He licked his lips when the last buckle was secured. His eyes darted to the door then at her as she took in the plate. Seeming satisfied. He took a deep breath to offer a salutation but none came to mind. He wanted five more minutes.

He looked over and saw a large kite shield laying on the floor near her alter. The top was a blue field with a white whale. He lowered his brows. "Why do you have a shield? I thought you hated shields."

She looked over her shoulder to see it on the floor. "Ah" she took a breath, "I don't hate them. I just find them cumbersome."

He arched a brow as he passed her to inspect the Calvary shield. He lifted it and nodded in appreciation of the weight and depth. The shield looked new. But he hadn't seen it at any of the stalls. "When did you get this?"

"It's, rather new."

He looked at her, noticing her pauses as she spoke, and wondered what she was hiding. He turned it to inspect the straps that seemed to show versatility for the field from the shoulder strap, the three handholds, and the arm strap. He flipped it over to the front to inspect the hide rim and rivets. His eyes went to the whale. He felt like he had seen it before but couldn't place it. "Did you commission this?"

"No."

"Do you" he smiled as he looked her over. "Do you want to keep it?"

Her eyes dropped to the shield with an expressionless mask. "What would you do with it?"

There was something in her tone, her lack of playfulness, and possessiveness that came to the shield. He lowered his brows in consideration. "Where did you get the shield, Uthreida?"

She puffed her cheeks out as she kept her eyes on his. She swallowed back something and lowered her shoulders. "It's yours, I think."

He lowered his brows. "Mine?" She nodded quickly. "How?"

She bit her lower lip and sighed again. She moved her hair in thought from one shoulder to another. "Last night, I ah, I saw you holding the scroll and when I blinked. It became" she tiled her jaw at the shield. "I've never heard of a time that that had happened. But you turned a scroll into an Aderic artifact." She swallowed, watching him to see if he understood. "The scroll no longer exists, because it's been transformed into-" her eyes dropped to the shield.

He lowered his brows at the wooden shield. "What's an aderic artifact?"

It was her turn to look confused. "An artifact by the Adera? Our ancestors. The gods?"

His eyes widened as he took in the blue. The whale. He looked at her to see her looking uncomfortable. "Your gods gave me a shield?"

She shrugged at his conclusion. "So it would seem."

"Why?" She shrugged. He looked at the shield again. It was a good shield. And lighter than his Silverite one. He could feel an enchantment on it but didn't know what it was. "This is mine?" He asked her.

She pulled her lips into a line. "Aye." Her tone carried more reverence than he expected.

He looked her over. "What's with the tone?"

She puffed her cheeks again. "It has iconography of my gods. Of Stuhn. If you carry it, they'll call you a heretic."

His eyes went back to the whale. "I can repaint it."

"No" her quick and loud response made him take a step back. She swallowed it back. "No. It's a gift of the gods. You can't."

He arched a brow at her actions. She was defensive, closed off, and not telling him something. "Perhaps I should leave it with you." He said slowly. Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded in thanks. He sat it beside her alter but crossed his arms, looking her over. "Whose Stuhn?"

"Stuhn?" He asked with raised brows, apparently interested that he's interested. "In Atamoria, he was the god of ransom, of war, and of law."

"He's a god of war?" His tone darkened as he looked at the whale.

"Not that kind-" she sighed. "Stuhn represented" she paused looking for a word. "He was a god of victory. Of humility in triumph. The god of honor and ethics in war or trials. His twin brother, Tsun, symbolizes honor in times of failure. Both are trial gods. And both work in tandem. Stuhn and Tsun were Shores's shield brothers. Stuhn protected the God of Men and died during the Aldermri wars." She clenched her jaw as she looked at the shield.

"Why a whale?"

She looked at him and smirked. "Imagine you're walking down a beach and a whale washes ashore. You don't own the land. But you know that the whale is on land owned by two different Jarls or farmers. Who gets the meat, tendons, bones, flesh, baleen, fat? Who's entitled to the god's banquet?" She gave a small shrug with a smile. "A whale can feed a holding in times of great need. But it can also cause a war. Stuhn is the whale because he is the lawmaker. And his law decrees that the one who spots it can take only what they can carry. There are also of laws that describe how to divide the whale and to whom gets what so everyone has a fair chance at the banquet. He is depicted as a whale because laws are like whale bones."

He arched a skeptical brow. "How so?"

She smiled again. Taking delight in his new appreciation of her culture. "How do I put this? Whalebones curve." She moved her arms to show a circle. "When laws are made, it is with the intent to lift the people, to make them safer or more equal. But as time progresses, those laws either become outdated or subject to corruption." She moved her hand along to show the decline of the need for a law. "So new laws or doctrine are needed." She lifted her hand going back up the circle, "to allow change and equality for all people." All he saw was the rise and fall of the circle. How the Neverran Accords worked for a time, only to cause the mage Templar rebellion, and now, he had no idea how the wheel would turn. "Though his new name is Stendarr." He looked her over quickly to confirm. That is the one he actually knew. "And Stendarr is the god of mercy, divine rule, and law." Her eyes turned back to the shield. "You are favored by the ancient gods."

Cullen took a deep measured breath as he let it all sink in. Her god of war, honor, mercy and law blessed him. Forgave him. He swallowed back every edict he knew from the Maker as he tried to keep the last tendrils of the world he knew at his fingertips. "Right." Watching his small world suddenly expand. "Right." He turned to the door, his eyes lingering on the shield again.

"Well," she took a breath and stepped to the door. "Let's go sell this." She placed her thumbs in her breeches and started to pull them down.

"Ahhh" he held a hand to stop her. "Sell what?"

She looked confused at him. "To explain why the Commander is leaving my quarters so late in the morning?" Her scar turned a deeper color even as she held her tone strong.

"Uh," he rubbed his neck in stress at the presentation before him. "Not that I'm complaining," He stated with a flushed smile, "but, I would Uh," he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. He took a step closer. "I would prefer to keep our personal affairs... personal."

She looked him over with a scrupulous expression. "Eh..." her look changed to confusion. "We may as well give them what they're expecting."

He arched a brow with a smirk. "And how did you see this playing out?"

She shrugged quickly. "We step out together, you kiss my cheek quickly and you walk off, and I get dressed."

He smiled as she looked down at her. "If it's a kiss you want-"

"That's not the point." She stated with a pointed hand. "It's to give them a story so they don't see us as colluding."

"Just canoodling?" He asked with a knowing brow and smirk.

Her expression turned detested as she canted a defeated hip. Eying him. "Aye."

He watched her fight the smile and close the distance between them. He used his hand to cup her chin to hold her still and kissed her cheek quickly. He pulled just slightly to see her reaction. Her lips were formed into a pout and her eyes were dead at the wall. She looked over at him ready to snarl and watched as it melted in moments into a full-toothed grin. She looked away with a wrinkled nose into her hair to hide from him. She took a cleansing breath and looked at him again, ready for a fight, but still smiling. Cullen stayed close to her, waiting, hoping.

She arched a brow. But saw something in his eyes causing her to smirk. "Don't start, I just got you back in your armor."

He took a step back, matching her expression. "One of these days, I'm going to hold you to your teasing."

"And upon such a day-" her eyes dropped to his unarmored crotch as she licked her teeth. She looked at him again and he found his heart moved so high in his throat that he spluttered. He cleared his throat quickly, ignoring where his blood was flowing.

A quick triple tap on the door caught their attention. Uthreida held a hand to stop him but he opened it anyway. Dorian opened his mouth to speak but looked Cullen over. His jaw agape in confusion, followed by leaning behind to see Uthreida in an oversized shirt then back at Cullen with the dropped jaw of surprise. Cullen realized he had a ghost of a smile on his lips and it wasn't abating. Dorian was drawing his own conclusions.

"Don't move" the mage held a finger to the Commander and turned on his heel "Varric" Cullen watched him holler and run back into the main keep shouting the dwarfs name.

"You should probably take the back way." She suggested.

Cullen arched a brow. He playfully thought of watching Dorian and Varric try to get information and deliver nothing. But thought against it as this achieved what she wanted to do anyways. "Good idea." He turns to see her with his hand on the latch. "Good Morrow."

Xxx

Uthreida opened the door to Cullen's office and threw herself on the couch with her book. Cullen stopped his meeting but quickly resumed at her interruption. When his meeting wrapped up, he placed his hands on his hips and looked at her. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"I mean why are you reading in here?"

"Got kicked out of the library."

He made a sound of disbelief. "What happened?" Uthredia threw her head back and laughed at the memory. She recovered and hunkered down on the couch. "Do I want to know?"

"No."

"Am I going to find out?"

"Probably." She laughed again at Dorian's expression as she scared the Revered Mother with a lewd joke.

Cullen groaned. And went back to his desk. Uthreida read silently over the Dalish as he worked.

The sound of falling items, scrapping, and writing made her lookup. She quirked a brow at Cullen. He was smirking as he placed markers on a map and taking notes and referenced something from three other books and several missives. Usually, in planning, he would be grumbling or mumbling or arguing with himself and explaining the reasons to himself. This was…unusual.

She closed the book and approached his..masterpiece, she supposed. Different colored rocks littered a map. A mosaic of a rainbow in a way. He was either messing around and having fun, or planning something truly engaging. "What are you doing?"

"Planning." He said with a smile. "I can't believe I didn't realize these resources before."

She looked at him with an awkward smirk. "Painted rocks?"

"No, look," he held a hand out to her to bring her to the other side of the desk. "See this river?" She followed his hand and tried to follow along as he spouted off clinical tactics. Moving rocks in places to indicate moves from the enemy and counter moves with more words she could swear he was making up.

He beamed at his explanation while she was still confused. "Aye. Great plan." She said unsure.

He rolled his eyes playfully. His hand went to her hip. "Because of the river, it allows us to use some naval tactics. We can periodically cut off supplies and reinforcements like the Red Guards did during the skirmishes in the Illic Bay."

She nodded as she looked at the- what did he just say? She slowly turned to look at him. What did he just- "Valok." He grunted and answer as he moved a few more pieces in the field. "Where's the Illic Bay?"

He lowered his brows at the passing question. "Off the sea."

"Aye, but where?" She asked cautiously.

"You know. Between Hammerfall and Highrock." He waved a dismissive hand as he worked.

Uthreida licked her lips in worry of him. He's going to freak out. "And where are those countries at?" He scoffed. But stopped. He dropped his smirk as realization took over him. He looked at her with wide eyes and she held up her hands to stop him. "Don't scream." He took several shallow breaths as panic set in. "Cullen." She warned gently. He waved his hands over his chest like he couldn't breathe. "Valok, breathe."

His eyes moved to the map below him and he took a staggered step back. "What- what is-"

"Valok." She stepped closer to him. But couldn't fight the smile that curled at her lips. "It's okay."

"Okay?!" He shrieked, his hand going to the map. "I - that-what-How-"

"Breathe."

"Stop telling me to breathe." He took another step back from his desk as full panic set in.

Uthreida stepped towards him, taking his hands and placing them on her ass as she touched his chest. "Focus. Calm your mind."

He pulled back as his hands went into his hair. "What is - how do I- what- what was I that - that thing" he flung his hand across the keep. "Stop laughing." He hid his face to control himself. "Am I possessed? I'm possessed."

"You're not possessed."

"Then how in the Makers name did I-"

"You are touched, Valok." She tried to say calmly but was excited at the prospect before her. He made a disgusted face. "You have been blessed by Stuhn. By Stendarr."

He made a disgusted sound and paced. "Blessed by a god that's not my own." He paced again. His breathing became ragged. Mumbling and trying to see a reason to himself.

Uthreida watched him struggle with a smile. Cullen was blessed. She was confused as well. But seeing it was him. Her fear. Blessed by her gods. There was comfort even in his confusion. He turned to look at her. His face was marred by existential dread. "Why?" He begged. "Why is this happening?"

She smiled gently as she approached him. "Because Stuhn chose you."

"For what?" She chuckled at him. She shrugged. Not sure she could tell him why the god of war and law and mercy choose him or what it all means. But he was chosen for a reason. A reason none of them knew yet. He pulled back. His hand in his hair again. "What does it mean?" His panicking eyes turned to her now. Need some form of assurance.

One she didn't have. She took a breath and stepped to him again. "It means that Stendarr chose you for some purpose. But" she held a hand to his breastplate. "You need not be afraid." He gave an awkward hysterical laugh. One she mimicked in humor. "Valok, you" she sighed, seeing only the hand of her gods that was extended to him. She sighed. Words do not describe the glorious position he was in. And his refusal only made the choice all that more meritorious and humbling.

He forced himself to take tactical breaths with his eyes closed. He whispered the Chant under his breath as he stood still in the office. She watched him. Certain he was no shezarrine nor mantled the god, but still blessed for some reason.

He opened his eyes to look at her. "What-" his voice broke at the idea.

She gently took his hands into hers. "All is well, Valok. It'll be okay." She said softly. Watching his eyes as he watched her. "You are not possessed. You have been blessed with the mind of a god of war. A god of mercy and justice. You have insight, Cullen." She smiled as she looked at him. "You have a dangerous journey ahead of you. You will win every battle placed before you. But you must not rely on it solely. If the gods find you use these gifts for your own gain, it will be stripped from you. So it is important to remember justice and mercy in every move." She watched him make sure he was listening. His breathing was deeper than before. Her eyes dropped to their hands and to the flaming sword on his vambrace. The Maker. The Andristans. His people. "Cullen," she said softly, "no one can know." She met his eyes and he seemed numbed. "If anyone here finds out you are blessed, by my gods, they'll kill you." She placed a hand to his cheek to listen. "You must be careful of what you speak and to whom. Do you understand?"

He didn't move. "What does it mean?" She took a deep breath, unable to answer. "Does it mean the Maker" he choked on his world, "he isn't-"

"No, Valok." She squeezed his hands. "He's real. He just…has a different name." He took heavy breaths as his eyes scanned his soffits for some sense of direction. "Stendarr teaches to heal the wounded, defend the weak, and feed the poor. All are tenants under Maker. All are tenants for Templars." Her thumb grazing his chin to stay with her. "You have not forsaken the Maker simply by seeking aide from another."

"I don't want aide." His scathing remark added to his removal of her person.

"You no longer have a choice." She watched as he paced again. "The only way you can lose it is to become the monster you fear. You cannot fight this. It is a part of you. He is a part of you."

He spun on his heel. "Get rid of it."

"I" she tried not to smile at the same sentiment she once held. "I don't know how."

He paced again with a hand on his hip and the other covering his face. "Is it-" he looked to the desk. "Is it Always going to be-" he waved a hand to his desk and the map of rocks.

She clenched her jaw at the question. "I don't know. Some who are touched can only hear whispers but only when they reach for it. Maybe," she looked at the map, his office, his position, and sighed. "Maybe. Engaging in war may make the whispers louder."

He turned away. Taking shaking breaths away from her. "I want to blame you." He said lowly. "Blame you for this. But-" his hands dropped to his sides. "I opened the scroll, didn't I? I did this."

She smirked, already seeing the will of mercy working against him. And the humbling of his mind. "You did not know what you were doing or what you would find. I will not blame your curiosity for fulfilling an order."

He turned slowly. His eyes are on the floor. "What does it mean now? What do I do now?"

She stepped to him. His path was just as clouded to him as her. "We fight. We find purpose in the gifts we have. We help those we can. With gifts what we can. We pray when we can. What you do with it, is your own path. One I will share if you let me."

"But what do I do with it?"

"You win this war, Valok. That is what you do with it."

He took several deep, shaking breaths. Trying to pull all of this into perspective. She gently ran her hands up his arms and his hips. Slowly bringing him in for a hug. His arms molded around hers. Unsure of what to do or anything. She held onto his furs and let him process it.

An evil thought crossed her mind. "Hey, Cullen." She asked softly. "What happened at the battle of Saarthal?"

He sighed. "Well, it started when Ysgramor and his - stop that." He shoved her off while she laughed.

"You're a walking history book."

"Shut up. You're making it worse."

"You can't even read a book on war without knowing how it's going to end."

"Why are you destroying the small happiness in my life?"

"I'm trying to empathize."

"You are horrible at this."

She laughed again but pulled him from his panic. "It's going to be alright. Look at me." She moved to where she could see his eyes. She pulled his hand to her face and kissed his palm. "It's going to be alright."

"How do you know?"

She sighed as she looked at him, saying the only thing that came to mind. "Hope." He stepped back and huffed. "What is it?"

"You're" he threw up his hands in frustration. "You're making me into you." He ran his hands over his face and growled. "Just once can I not be my own man." She smiled as he watched him fight his fate. "First the chantry, then the lyrium, and now this? This! To some heathen god."

"Hey." Her tone was only slightly offended.

"It's" he turned with an apology but kept ranting. "It's a lot. Okay? It's…it's a lot to take in." He paced the floor with the same shortness of breath.

"I know." She moved closer to him, but he kept pacing the floor. "Believe me, Cullen. I know."

"Do you?"

She smiled at him. "I do." She waved her hands to her throat and smirked. "Trust me. I tried to run from it. To hide. And it forced me back. It wasn't until I accepted it, did the path become clear." She stepped to him again. "When one is fated, it matters not what you choose, for choice is an illusion for that fate. But, we forge our fate. You can die tired from running, or you can die victoriously. Which do you choose?"

"You just said it's an illusion."

"It is your illusion. You will die, that is a fact. How you choose is up to you." She eyes him with a smirk. "And I'm betting there's a voice, burrowed deep in your heart like the roots of an Elder tree, the screaming of your ancestors, telling you what must be done. Follow that voice. And you will know your fate."

He lowered a brow at her. "What's yours say?"

"Oh, you don't want that one." A smile broke his panic as he laughed at her retort. She took a cautious step toward him. "You don't have to embrace it now. But know, someday, you'll have to. Accept it. It makes it a lot easier when you have to use it later."

"But why? Why do I need this?"

She took his hand in hers. "Part of The journey. Submitting to the abyss and all that. Whatever it is, whatever the reason, it'll work out. You just, have to trust the gods." He shot her an annoyed look. "The Makers plan then." He grunted. She looked at his face and smiled. The thought of Stendarr somewhere in him. His influence on Cullen made her giddy for a reason. A sentiment of home. A small price for peace. He looked at her like she was crazy for a moment. She only smiled, pulling his gorget down to kiss him. He didn't respond. So she kissed his cheek. His nose, his scar, his forehead, and anywhere she could until he smiled. Her hand went into his hair. Sthun is alive. He chose him. The protector of men, choose Cullen. And a burning, warning question in her gut, why did Sthun come back?

"Why do you want this?"

She leaned back to look at him. "I want to see you accomplish your goals."

"And if those goals align with yours? Will you use me as well?"

A small, understanding smirk crossed her face. "Then we will have the justice and mercy of Stendarr keep our battles honorable."

Xxx

Cullen pushed the doors open and stepped into the war room to begin the process of taking the Arbors. Four sets of eyes turned to him. He took his usual placement between Liliana and Josephine while the two whispered in Orleasian at one another. He held out a parchment from his stack of reports back to Liliana. She looked at it with a brow. "I believe this was mixed in with mine." Liliana arched a brow at it. "Curiously, that's not my signature. I hope you don't mind I recalled those troops from Ver Chief." She took the parchment from him with a smirk. He noticed Cassandra give a look of concern.

"Thank you, Commander."

"I'd ask you to reframe, but I have a feeling you'll do it again until that puffed shirt, stiff collar, bureaucrat decides to stop spreading rumors about how we use blood magic to widen our sphere of influence in Ver Chief."

She smirked wickedly. "That was the plan."

"Adjust it," he warned.

The door opened and Royoc entered to look over the field. Cullen took a deep breath to not jump over the table and knock him to the ground. Be an adult.

Royoc arched a brow at him. "I don't believe I asked, about your adventure to your old little village. Heard about the dragon. Terrible business, that. Thankfully, the Slayer seemed to know exactly where to go to stop it."

Cullen arched a brow. "I don't believe I made the report. The men in Redcliff stated that a dragon with the same colors, wingspan, and roar was last spotted in the Redcliff dragon lair after the men in the area pushed it out due to your orders. Violating their standing orders."

Royoc plastered a fake smile. "My men moved on my orders? Shame. Shall we begin?"

"Certainly." He held up his clipboard. "The men in Redcliff need elf root, health potions, and burn balms."

"I meant in relation to our actual war, Commander. Do keep a level head."

Liliana cleared her throat to keep them on their better behavior. Cullen's nose twitched as his little order just deprived his men of basic necessities in the field. All to prove some point. Leaving two Inquisition encampments abandoned and now necessitating that the remaining forces be stretched the rest of the camps across the Hinterlands to cover down until reinforcements could arrive. As if to prove the point the Inquisition didn't need a dragon slayer on the payroll.

Maker, was it worth it?

He placed his notes on the table and looked at the table. "Let's begin. We know Corypheus is moving on the ancient temple in the forest and is moving his Templars to secure it. According to scout reports, they are searching the area for something. According to Lady Morgan, it's to find eluvans and some source of history."

"According to the slayer," the mage stepped forward, "Corypheus intends to infect them and force them open to have unlimited travel across Thedas."

Liliana lowered a brow. "How would she know or guess that?"

"She's seen it before," Cullen stated quickly. "Apparently, her land had similar dealing with tears in the planes crossing into our worlds. Overarching theory is practically the same."

Liliana looked at Morgan. "With an Eluvian, Corypheus could cross into the fade in the flesh."

"Indeed." Morgan scathed. "The Inquisitor knows the power of these artifacts and how they can be used."

Josephine lowered a brow. "What should happen if he enters the fade?"

Morgan smirked at the woman. "He'll get his heart's desire and take the power of a god. Or," she turned to Royoc, "more likely, the lunatic will unleash forces that will tear the world apart."

Royoc looked at the room then Morgan. "We can't let it happen."

"Indeed." Morgan's seemingly bored tone. "If he did succeed, all in this room would the first to feel his holy wraith."

"Now," Cullen pointed to the map, "we know Corypheus is getting desperate. With his garden of lyrium taken and his forces severely curtailed. Without an army, he may take drastic steps."

"The dragon," Liliana asked.

He nodded. "It's a power play. If he has to destroy the thing he needs, he will." Cullen stood with his hand on the pommel. "We need to destroy his means of travel via magical portals."

Josephine cleared her throat. "Does that mean all is lost if Corypheus gets to the eluvan first?"

Cullen sighed at the question. "Corypheus has a head start no matter how fast we move. The men in the area can't force surrender nor withhold them for long."

"We should gather our allies before we march," Josephine suggested with a raised quill.

"Can we wait for them?" Liliana questioned. "We should send in spies first."

"Without military support, they will be taken in the field."

"What should-"

Cullen held up a hand to stop Josephine's questions. "Reports from scouts and Captain Overbridge show they are trying to grow red lyrium again the forest to consolidate what they have."

"Venitori forces are still in the desert." Liliana said calmly. "The main bulk of the opposition will be the Templars."

"Correct. It would appear that Sampson is hoping brute strength will protect his men. Because of that, mages should be cleared from the area and our scouts, artificers, and rangers move in. They will need time to rally the soldiers for additional support. Because of the terrain, siege equipment will not be an option. Our best bet is to have our allies send their scouts forward combined with Liliana's spies. Additional troops in the desert have been rerouted to the area. Overbridges forces can subsist the spies and scouts until the full army arrives. Thankfully, between the Avvar mountain passes and battalions left behind in the trenches, it should be just enough. Josephine, will you inquire to see if the local nobility could spare men? It's becoming apparent that Ferelden is trying to distance themselves from us."

"Of course."

"Expedience is helpful but not required. Our path to the arbors is cleared and should only take two weeks of travel but will require preparatory time for logistics. Liliana, inform your men to keep the Templar's heads down. We know cold and ice-based magic and grenades are a weakness. Exploit it. Royoc, you and your team will need to leave as soon as possible to secure the area for the incoming army. Captain Overbridge has sent a map of known fade rifts that could hinder movement to the temple."

Royoc arched an angered brow at him as he took over the whole planning process. "And what should we expect at the temple."

Cullen lowered his brows at the stupidity. "Red Templars."

"Dragons."

"Ancient elven traps."

"Delicate hostage negotiations."

"Desperation."

"Corypheus."

Each female added their own interpretations of the situation before them. Morgan looked at Cullen with a brow. "The ancient arbors are home to many old magic's. You're a fool to overlook it."

Cullen straighted his back but Josephine smiled politely. "Please, Lady Morgan, lend us your expertise."

Morgan chuckled to the Antivan. "It's why I am here." Cullen wanted to roll his eyes. "And to see that value recognized."

"Right. Anything else?"

Royoc smirked. "Can I just say, that when as the Inquisition started-"

"Of course" Cullen cut him off quickly. "We need to discuss details of tactics and movements."

Liliana stepped towards the map and closer to Cullen. "Our agents will hound them. I have pockets here, and here. I'll send them out."

"Lord Faverious of Keptump," Josephine pointed, "has the finest archers in the land and are closest. I'll send word to him and he'll meet you on the village of the Arbors."

"This will be our rendezvous point." Cullen pointed to the largest Inquisition camp in the arbors. "All are to convene on this sight and move out for further instructions. But most importantly, they need to move now. We have one week to gather what intelligence we have and will move from Skyhold at that point and march to our enemy." He looked to the other two women who nodded. "Make your requests have them move out as soon as possible. I'll brief the captains for the battle and prep the logistics for the movement." The women nodded and took a step back. Each looked at Royoc while Morgan smirked. Royoc gave him a look of death as he was left practically useless in the meeting. Cassandra arched a brow at Cullen's take over. "Let's begin."