Cullen was having the strangest week.

He'd finally been released from the infirmary and allowed to return to his own quarters. Not a thing was out of place, not even a stray report added to the pile on his desk or a different fold to his blankets from a laundress.

It was too meticulous, a strange slip-up of Leliana's agents. He was unsurprised by this evidence that his room had been thoroughly searched, of course. Cullen was well aware that part of the reason he had been confined to the infirmary had not been for his own health, but that Leliana had wanted to search his quarters for evidence of his true allegiances.

Their searches had clearly found nothing, and why would they? Cullen wasn't an idiot, and besides, he did not really have any allegiances now. He certainly was not loyal to Raleigh, not after what he'd done. Dorian's threat against the man's life sometimes made him momentarily sad, but the man Cullen had known was long dead and probably had been for years without Cullen recognizing it. Cullen still wasn't included in most War Table meetings or the usual communications, but even he recognized that was fair, considering the circumstances. Just because he wasn't with the red templars, it did not automatically follow that he was loyal to the Inquisition.

He still had a job, though. He remained in charge of the recruits, training, the majority of guard rotations, many supply lines. Even while temporarily restricted to the infirmary, he'd had plenty of paperwork to handle. Leliana clearly thought that giving him that much was worth the risk. If anything, she thought his loyalty was split between the Inquisitor and the remaining templars. So long as she kept him from having knowledge of whatever foolish pro-mage move Maxwell would blindly follow, he was safe enough in his restricted role.

She was wrong, but it was quite gratifying to find he was too important to be easily shut out.

Cullen had also been trying to figure out how to control his dreams. He seemed to be able to shift his surroundings, change the time of day or the color of the sheets and such, but anything so far as changing the location continued to remain out of his reach. He thus kept spending each night in a slightly different version of Dorian's bedroom — but Dorian had yet to make another appearance.

Cullen hated to admit it, but he was getting worried about that obnoxious mage.

Although he refused to acknowledge it, this concern was what prompted his decision to pay Alexius a visit.

Once again proving that he was a trusting fool, Maxwell had not only allowed the Magister to live; he was letting the mage research. He was, however, confined to a windowless room that was part study and part bedroom. The man's ankle was chained to a beam at the center of the room to ensure that he could not actually leave unless someone released him, and he was forced to wear a collar to suppress his magic. Guards were posted at the door, but Cullen was somewhat surprised to find that they were allowing Alexius some privacy.

Alexius hardly cast him a glance when he entered. He was focused on a rune that Cullen presumed the Inquisitor had asked him to study.

"Alexius."

"Commander," the Magister returned quietly.

The conversation had been fairly dull, for the most part, though it did provide Cullen a surprising amount of insight into Dorian's character without him ever actually asking about the man directly. Cullen instead inquired after various aspects of Tevinter culture, the Venatori, the Magisterium, and finally some of their language.

"What about soporati?"

"A mundane such as yourself. Someone without magic," Alexius replied in the same uninterested tone as all the other questions. Cullen had the feeling that he'd already answered most everything during one of Leliana's interrogations and probably assumed Cullen was trying to catch him in a lie.

Even though he had not planned it, Cullen had only one question he truly wanted answered.

"And amatus?"

Alexius finally showed signs of life then. His eyes darted to Cullen, sparkling with surprise. "What did you say you were reading?"

"I didn't. What does it mean?"

Alexius slowly straightened, his focus no longer on his research. "Context might be important."

Cullen shook his head. "Ignoring the context. What's the translation?"

Alexius thought on his answer for longer than he'd bothered with any other question. "There isn't a direct one. It is generally used as a term of affection, a masculine form something to the effect of…." Alexius searched for another moment before finally answering, "Beloved."

Cullen barely kept his expression impassive, not allowing himself to take the meaning at face value. Obviously Dorian wouldn't have meant it like that, not when Cullen was nothing but a pet at his mercy. "Generally, you said?"

"That's where the context matters," Alexius said with a small shrug. "For example, should someone like my former apprentice use it then it should be taken as an honest declaration of his regard. It is not a term he would use lightly."

Of course Alexius correctly assumed where Cullen had heard it.

But did that…no.

Just…no. Cullen's relationship with Dorian had never and would never be like that — Cullen highly doubted the mage even had a heart. Dorian was attracted to him, certainly, maybe even obsessed, but that was as far as it went. There was nothing romantic about the two of them.

"By former apprentice, do you mean Pavus?" Cullen asked with a sneer. "I've met your old apprentice, Alexius, remember?"

Alexius nodded. "You've met the man he's become to protect himself. I knew him before that." His lips twitched into a small smile. "Perhaps congratulations are in order, Commander?"

Cullen did not even dignify Alexius' conclusion with a response beyond a sneer of disgust. He was revolted enough by his own embarrassing attachment to contemplate more. "When you say before, do you mean before he became a blood mage?" he asked instead.

Alexius hesitated, eyes averting back to the rune he'd been studying. "I do not know what made him turn to that, Commander."

Cullen rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. "Alexius —."

"Dorian has never once used it around me. Whatever drove him to it…it must have been the last resort."

"You're either a liar or a fool," Cullen scoffed as he turned to leave.

"Love makes us all fools," Alexius replied softly just before Cullen slammed the door shut behind him.

Beloved.

Ridiculous. The idea, it was just…that was impossible. Alexius was toying with him, the common pastime for Magisters, apparently. He was trying to get under Cullen's skin, like Dorian had done so successfully the past several months. The word obviously held no meaning for Dorian. It was simply another method of exerting control, nothing more.

Still, some treacherous part of him must have found some solace in the notion that Dorian had, at least to whatever extent he was capable, come to care for Cullen. Love was out of the question, naturally, but perhaps there was some genuine fondness there. Whatever Cullen tried to convince himself, the bit of comfort amatus provided apparently made it easier for him to control the dreams.

He had finally managed an accurate lakeshore near Honnleath when Dorian finally joined him — and the dream didn't shift back to the bedroom.

Dorian was unusually shaken from the moment he appeared, although Cullen did not ask if it was whatever was going on with Corypheus or if it had to do with the unfamiliar surroundings. He enjoyed how his own calm seemed to agitate Dorian further.

When Cullen asked about that word, amatus, expecting to find out that Alexius had lied or that Dorian was using it in some degrading manner, instead Dorian just…fell to pieces in front of him. He silenced for a time, stammered like a boy caught out after curfew, and then even begged Cullen not to ask after the word.

There was no other conclusion Cullen could come to: Alexius had been telling the truth.

Watching the usually unflappable Magister stumbling over himself was one of the most gratifying experiences of Cullen's life. Dorian's panic was also fortunate, considering how Cullen had not been prepared for such a revelation as this and knew some of that surprise must have shown on his face.

How could he not be in shock? Magister Dorian fucking Pavus was in love with him. Never in months of flirting and teasing had Cullen considered that it was possible that the blood mage was attracted to more than his body — that the man had been truly falling for him.

Cullen held the smile he'd worn since Dorian appeared in his dream, but subtly bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing as everything fell into place. When Dorian closed his eyes, evidently searching for some lie to cover the truth he'd already revealed, Cullen acted on pure instinct. He took the mage's face in his hands and kissed him in as besotted a manner as he could manage.

After all, how could Cullen use this gift from the Maker to his advantage if he let Dorian believe it was unrequited?

It was not like any kisses before that. Those had been acts of taking, battles for control, hot hatred boiling over as violent need rather than any tender warmth.

Cullen almost forgot himself as he found it all too easy to be gentle, affectionate. Convincing Dorian that he loved him in return should have been much harder than this, so much more difficult because…well, because Cullen didn't. He couldn't possibly love a mage, a blood mage, particularly this irritating bastard. Any chance of loving anyone ever again had been ripped away from him back in Kinloch. But in the moment, as he felt Dorian trembling beneath his touch, tasted that beautiful darkness on his lips, Cullen was closer to that feeling than he could believe.

That was dangerous. He had to remember that Dorian could be deadly, that he had a hold over Cullen that he did not entirely understand. Even if the affection between them was real, it meant nothing in the grand scheme of everything. They were enemies, and always would be.

But Cullen had some hold over Dorian as well now, did he not?

Dorian had not reacted to the kiss as Cullen anticipated, but considering that he was hardly processing the revelation himself it was not entirely unexpected. Dorian had been warning him about something when he instead suddenly kissed him again, and Cullen might have let himself enjoy it a little more than he intended before the mage had vanished.

Despite the ominous hint that something dreadful was coming to Skyhold, Cullen enjoyed the remainder of the night in his childhood hideaway. It was as peaceful as he remembered, more so once Dorian had left. It was probably nothing to worry about, he reminded himself. Dorian was surrounded by enemies and was probably sleeping lightly. That was all.

There was no need to concern himself over Dorian's safety. Not now, not when the Magister had assured him he was coming home. Cullen's plan was simple. He needed to ensure that his power remained, however dimmed, and that he was prepared to play the role he'd found available.

He had to channel whatever warmth he felt into that role, and not let himself forget that it was an act. It is an act.

Considering how he kept catching himself distractedly smiling at nothing with a finger drifting over his lips as heat rushed around his veins, he really needed to remind himself that this was just part of the game. His happiness must be attributed to having Dorian in check, nothing more.

He barely managed to force away his pleased expression in time when Maxwell came to visit him.

"How are you feeling?"

Cullen smiled kindly at the Inquisitor, which was apparently a surprise considering the way Maxwell's eyebrows rose. "I am doing well, Inquisitor."

"No…side effects?"

Cullen chuckled lightly. "I am still suffering from withdrawals, but nothing like before. I can handle it." He set aside the supply report he'd been entirely failing to focus on in favor of far less virtuous thoughts. "How can I help you?"

The young mage shifted his weight. "I just wanted to check in, I suppose. You gave me a fright when you collapsed like that."

"The consequences of avoiding sleep, I'm afraid," Cullen admitted.

"And I wanted to ask you something," Maxwell continued hesitantly. "The truth, please, Commander," he added with surprising force.

Cullen simply nodded. Most of his secrets were all coming out anyway, and he highly doubted the Inquisitor would stumble into anything new.

"Tell me how you felt during the ritual, when Dorian made you murder me."

Cullen blinked, hoping his surprise was appropriate enough to steal the extra moment to consider the question. "I was…horrified. I had no control, only noticed the dagger a second before and then…then I realized what Dorian had done." He shuddered as he vividly recalled the feeling of being so intimately controlled.

Dorian couldn't do that in the real world, he reassured himself. Surely he had exaggerated his abilities in the dream. Cullen was almost certain that was true, anyway. And with Cullen now confident he could tilt their bond in his own favor with Dorian's heart — that still amused him — nothing like that would ever happen.

Maxwell eyed him curiously. "And?"

"Dorian played Leliana. I doubt he could manage that in real life," Cullen added. It suddenly occurred to him that this was finally a chance to confirm what Dorian had suggested, that Solas had seen what Dorian was doing and interrupted the ritual. "And then I was in the dungeons, a death sentence over my head. Surely Solas told you all this?" He posed it like it was fact, entirely expecting Maxwell to be confused by it. Even if Dorian was in love with Cullen, and even if Cullen did have some control over their shared dreams, he had no doubt that Dorian had enjoyed violating him and had been lying in an attempt to explain some of it away.

Maxwell slouched a little with a heavy sigh. "He did. That's why I insisted we interrupt. I…I was so worried I'd ruined everything but, at the time, knowing what Dorian was doing to you seemed…worse."

Cullen averted his gaze, hoping his surprise was hidden. So Dorian had been telling the truth yet again — Maxwell and Solas had awakened him, interrupting the ritual. There as no way to know for certain exactly when that had happened, but it fit Dorian's story. That meant it was entirely possible Cullen had truly brought himself to Dorian's home.

He shoved that thought aside. If true, it was desperation, nothing more. He wasn't stupid enough to fall for a maleficar. Not as stupid as the Magister was to fall for him.

"You didn't mourn me," Maxwell noted suddenly. Cullen opened his mouth to protest, but the Inquisitor shook his head. "Don't lie." Maxwell smiled sadly. "You've wanted me dead since I stumbled from the rift."

Cullen again started to deny it, but the words died on his tongue when Maxwell shook his head once more.

"I thought you'd changed. That…not that I changed your mind, but that something of all we've been doing might have convinced you that mages are not the enemy." Maxwell sighed again. "I thought Dorian changed your mind."

Cullen could not help it when he huffed with surprise. "You thought the maleficar made me more…amenable to mages?"

"He's not a maleficar," Maxwell said evenly. "And you know that. What I don't understand is why you're so determined to believe otherwise."

"He violated me," Cullen snapped, though he could hear that there was less fire behind it than he wished.

"Under my orders to save your life," Maxwell countered with something shockingly similar to a scowl. "You were dying, Commander. We wanted you to live." Maxwell's expression was stern, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the nervous way he was twisting his fingers. "Did we make a mistake, Cullen?"

It was strange to find he could not answer that. Both possible responses sounded like a lie.

Maxwell sighed heavily with disappointment and started to leave, but Cullen found his voice just in time. "I still serve the Inquisition."

"Do you?" Max countered, arching an eyebrow with the same sort of dubious distrust Dorian sometimes did. Cullen quickly swallowed his feelings about how that made his heart skip.

He was not that stupid.

"Whatever missteps I think we have taken, it would be far worse to let Corypheus win."

Maxwell considered this for a long moment. "I have one more question, Cullen." He had his commanding face on, the one that was always on the verge of cracking but the same one that revealed he meant business. "If you saw Dorian again, would you kill him?"

The obvious answer would be yes. Whatever the reasons or orders, whatever love had driven him, Dorian had still violated him and taken complete advantage. If the Magister did return as he claimed he would, Cullen should kill him.

But it seemed he no longer wanted to.

"When he returns I will abstain from killing him on sight," Cullen replied with a small smile.

Maxwell's blue eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. The Inquisitor was overly fond of the Tevinter — if Cullen showed he no longer saw Dorian as an enemy, it would go a long way in regaining his confidence.

"I've come to realize that Solas was right," Cullen continued. "The ritual may have granted Ser Pavus some level of influence over me, but not complete control." Maxwell's eyes brightened with hope, but he said nothing. "My initial reaction was based solely on fear, and for that I apologize."

Maxwell slowly smiled, though he still appeared astonished. "You…you wouldn't mind if he returned, then?"

"I don't promise to strike up a friendship, but I dare say I won't murder him, Inquisitor." He waited a beat before twisting the knife. "After all, it wasn't his idea to violate me, was it?"

The Inquisitor immediately dropped his gaze uncomfortably, but nodded.

"Then I don't see a reason for me to kill him next time I see him," Cullen said pleasantly. Considering Dorian implied that he was planning to return, it was imperative Maxwell not view them as a one or the other situation. With Cullen already on thin ice, it was obvious who the Inquisitor would pick if it came to such a choice.

"That's…that's good, Commander." Maxwell was still looking at his feet. "I appreciate that. Truly."

Cullen entirely expected that would be that, but the Inquisitor remained where he was, clearly another question on his mind. Before he could inquire after it, however, the door behind Maxwell burst open.

"There you are," Leliana said, quiet but sharp. "Inquisitor, we have a situation."

"Situation?" Maxwell repeated nervously.

Leliana glanced toward Cullen with hesitation, silent as she weighed whatever it was she had to report and whether or not it was wise for Cullen to hear it.

Cullen was frankly astounded when the Spymaster apparently decided it was. "We have a Magister who surrendered to our scouts a short distance from here."

Maxwell's eyes widened as he looked at Cullen. "Did you know?" he hissed suspiciously.

Cullen shook his head, more than a little bewildered himself. Dorian hadn't said he was literally hours away.

That meant Dorian had already chosen to come back long before Cullen assured him he no longer planned to kill him, before the extent of his attachment had been revealed. If only Cullen had any idea what that meant.

"Where's Dorian?" Maxwell said eagerly.

It was Leliana's turn to shake her head. "I'm afraid Ser Pavus isn't the one who surrendered to us." She took a small breath, seeming to steady herself. "It's a man who's introduced himself as Magister Livius Erimond — and he brought Pavus as a prisoner."

"As a — Leliana, did you put Dorian in the dungeons?" Maxwell gasped.

"Both Magisters are currently in the dungeons," she revealed without any hint of regret. "And neither is willing to say more. They both insist they must speak with you, Inquisitor. But if you will allow me —."

"No, no interrogation," Maxwell snapped. "At least not until I've spoken with them," he added with a grimace.

The two were already out the door when suddenly Maxwell turned back. "Commander, perhaps you should join us," he offered hesitantly.

Cullen immediately got to his feet, but tried not to show his enthusiasm any further. "Of course, Inquisitor."

It turned out Maxwell truly meant it when he said no interrogation, at least not the form Leliana wished. He wanted to hear whatever the mages themselves had to say without any potions, spells, or threats. Leliana lingered in the shadows, and Cullen could feel her frustration at this. But Maxwell was naive and always had been — it was not a surprise to learn that he wanted to take the mages at their word.

That could prove difficult, though, even for such a young fool.

"Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service, Inquisitor," the unknown mage introduced as soon as they approached his cell. "I've come to join this delightfully heretical band of yours." His smile was entirely lacking in any semblance of warmth. "And I come bearing gifts."

Maxwell wisely said nothing, waiting for the Magister to continue.

This new Magister's claims were…shocking, to say the least.

"And he says I'm the gift, no doubt," Dorian sneered. He avoided looking directly at Cullen, maybe due to the recent reveal of his feelings or perhaps it was merely Dorian slipping into the role he was here to play. Just because Dorian had fallen for Cullen, that did not mean he was actually loyal to the Inquisition.

"In part," Maxwell replied, but surprisingly he kept the rest wisely to himself. "Did you really go to Corypheus?"

Dorian rolled his neck, uncomfortably tugging at the suppression collar. "I did. As my services were no longer welcome here I thought I could make myself useful to the Inquisition in other ways." Dorian grinned, charming and annoyingly handsome as always. "It was surprisingly easy to convince them I was there to switch sides."

"Switch sides?" Erimond laughed. "I've known Dorian longer than any of you, and I guarantee he was never on your side."

"Your guarantee means little, I'm afraid," Leliana replied.

The Magister stroked his goatee. "True enough. But I do not mean that he's been working for the Elder One — he's always been out for himself. No one was better at avoiding alliances in the Magisterium."

"Considering what Tevinter tends to get up to, that's rather a point in his favor, no?" Maxwell suggested.

"I suppose that depends on your stance on mage freedom," Erimond replied, his smile growing. "The Inquisition is in support of mage rights, is it not?"

Maxwell almost looked at Cullen, but instead took a deep breath and answered, "It is. But freedom for all, not just mages."

"Indeed," Erimond commented, looking toward Cullen and surveying him with unnerving interest. "You might want to check that his collar is tight, my friends. He claims to have your Commander in thrall."

"Well obviously I claimed that, I had to give them some reason for why I didn't join the Venatori from the start," Dorian said irritably. His eyes were oddly wet as he continued to avoid looking directly at Cullen — though he did slip up for a couple brief glances.

"You did agree to the blood ritual rather quickly," Leliana pointed out.

Dorian almost looked at Cullen again, and the weight of his attempt not to do so was palpable. "I was ordered to. And it was great personal risk to me as well, I'd add, and hardly to my benefit considering how quickly I was forced to leave."

"Forced to leave? Or given an excuse to return to your master?" Leliana asked lightly.

Dorian's expression went alarmingly cold. "I have no master," he snarled.

"Then what exactly was your plan?"

Dorian sighed, sitting on the wooden bench in his cell and scratching violently at the collar. "Can't you remove this?"

Maxwell looked to Cullen and Leliana. In case Dorian was watching, Cullen pretended to be uncertain how to respond, but the Spymaster shook her head without hesitation. Maxwell sighed wearily.

"That was his plan," Erimond said calmly. "Serving me up to the Inquisition to regain your trust was his idea. I only agreed to it because it finally gave me the chance to get away from the Elder One."

"You freely admit your crimes?" Maxwell replied with surprise.

"Crimes?" Erimond shook his head. "I'm not certain what lies Dorian has fed you, but the Venatori's purpose is simply to protect and elevate mages everywhere."

Cullen almost bit through his tongue to keep from laughing.

"Then this Elder One and his followers usurped our purpose. Decided that elevation meant the return of the ancient Imperium," he said, shaking his head. "He's obviously mad, and you lot don't appear to be. It was a rather simple choice once I had the opportunity."

"It was not my idea!" Dorian declared fervently. "It was Erimond and Samson. They convinced Corypheus it was a good way for me to prove my value."

"You agreed to it," Maxwell noted under his breath.

"It brought me home," Dorian said quietly, finally meeting Cullen's eyes. Cullen did his best to appear as Dorian would expect — the Commander trying to play his role while struggling with what his heart wanted. He kept his body under rigid control, but let his lips twitch into a worried frown, his brow wrinkling slightly, and his eyes watering as he struggled to hold Dorian's gaze. Judging by the ghost of a smile that touched Dorian's lips, Cullen pulled it off perfectly. "And if I hadn't, I would be dead and some other fool would be playing the role anyway."

"The role of a traitor or a spy?"

Dorian's eyes narrowed at Leliana, but he addressed Maxwell. "Max, you cannot trust Erimond. He's always let his ambitions outweigh his judgment. He only pulled this switch on me because he thinks he can gain more power with the Inquisition than he can with Corypheus."

"So you claim he is trying to switch sides?"

"Only for his own power," Dorian insisted. "When it comes to it, he will simply betray you just the same." He leaned forward, looking up at the Inquisitor imploringly. "Please, Max. You know me. You don't know him. When you're the one in the way of his ambitions, he will get rid of you."

Erimond laughed heartily. "He claims I would do anything for my ambitions?" When Leliana's eyes narrowed, the Magister tried but failed to bite back his amusement. "He's one to talk."

Maxwell arched an eyebrow. "I don't see why you find his claim so amusing."

The Magister shook his head with a small smile. "Inquisitor, how much do you know about how the Magisterium works?"

"It's a government run by a collection of mages from prominent families," Maxwell said easily. Clearly he and Dorian had discussed this before. "It suffers from what all governments suffer — stagnation."

Even Erimond looked a touch impressed. "Do you know how those members are chosen?"

"Bloodlines," Maxwell answered. "Thus the stagnation."

"A seat does usually transition from father to firstborn son — I admit, I got my position once my father retired." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "Doesn't Dorian seem a little…young to be a member?"

"Andraste's arse, he's parroting the claims I made to gain Corypheus' confidence," Dorian groaned. "I didn't murder my father for his seat, Max. I didn't even want it!"

Maxwell sighed heavily. "Dorian, look, I do want to believe you, but…Maker, did you have to go straight to the enemy? How did you even know where to look?"

Dorian hesitated, guiltily glancing at Cullen. "I…have acquaintances."

Maxwell also turned to look at Cullen, who recognized that the Inquisitor was seeing the parallels with Cullen's own relationship with Raleigh.

Against all probability, Maxwell was actually questioning his trust in Dorian.

About bloody time.

"We can't simply keep them both locked up forever," Maxwell said. "If Erimond does want to join us, it's hardly a hospitable welcome."

"We can follow up on the intelligence he provided," Leliana said. "I'll get agents on this news of Adamant at once. If it turns out he's telling the truth, we can release him." Maxwell opened his mouth to protest, but Leliana added, "If he truly is turning on his old cause, he will understand the delay."

"And Ser Pavus?" Cullen prompted. "What of him?"

Maxwell groaned helplessly. "I don't know, all right?" He paced around the War Table, wringing his hands. "You warned me all along not to trust him, and thus far he hasn't actually done anything —."

"Except joining Corypheus," Leliana reminded him.

"He says that was for us."

"How can it be for us if it hasn't provided us any benefit?" Leliana coolly pointed out.

Cullen swallowed the urge to inform her that his suggestion to check Gherlen's Pass was actually from Dorian. He did not want to have to explain about the dreams and all that. Maxwell would probably start trying to get the two back together again, romantic idiot that he was — of course, Cullen was now going to have to play such a fool now.

"What of what Erimond said about…about Dorian and the Magisterium?" Maxwell asked hesitantly. "Is there a way to find out if there's any truth to it?"

Leliana's smile was cold. "If you think I allowed a Tevinter Magister to remain at your side without checking his background, you give me too little credit as a Spymaster."

"You didn't know he was a blood mage," Maxwell mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "So? What did you find?"

"It is difficult to obtain information from the Imperium," Leliana said, clearly annoyed that Maxwell had called out her rather shocking lack of foreknowledge of Dorian's use of blood magic. "But what Erimond says about his avoiding alliances is entirely correct. Magister Pavus has created a reputation for being unpredictable and chaotic."

"That would have made him enemies," Cullen noted. "How did he manage to hold his power?"

Leliana nearly winced. Cullen's heart raced a little, wondering just what Leliana had been keeping secret from them all this time. "There are rumors," she began quietly. "If I had any indication they were true, I would have had him removed at once."

"Rumors," Maxwell repeated. "Leliana?" he said breathlessly.

"His father's death was…suspicious. Officially, he died of a heart condition, but the prevalent rumor is that he was murdered by his son."

Maxwell was already shaking his head vehemently. "No. Dorian didn't want power, he didn't want his father's seat. He wouldn't have done it."

"Whether he wanted it or not, he certainly solidified his position in the months following his father's untimely death," Leliana said. "Again, this is mostly based on rumor, but it seems that anyone who tried threatening him or got in his way tended to…end poorly."

Maxwell gaped at her. "That…that can't be true. We know Dorian, he…he's worked with us for months, he's been good, he even…Commander, you were together!"

Cullen inhaled sharply at that reminder. "I'm not certain we qualified as together," he said carefully, looking down at the War Table to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

"The Inquisitor does have a point," Leliana said slowly. "Cullen, you do know him better than anyone. What do you think of his loyalties?"

Surely they were not actually going to place Dorian's fate entirely in his hands. He had only just shifted away from murderous, as far as they knew. But as strange as it was to admit, he did know Dorian.

"He cannot be trusted," Cullen said bluntly. Maxwell deflated a little, though he did not appear surprised. "Whatever his plans were clearly went awry, and perhaps he is not loyal to the Inquisition — but I also do not believe he is an agent of Corypheus."

"You're saying you believe Erimond," Leliana finally said into the silence that followed Cullen's assessment. "That he's in this for himself."

"Possibly," Cullen admitted.

"He's Dorian," Maxwell said quietly. "I cannot believe he would…." But he trailed off, slumping over the table and shaking his head. "I don't know what to believe."

"There is another possibility," Leliana suddenly suggested.

Maxwell sat on the table now, turning away from them both and bowing his head. "Just…quickly, please," he muttered dejectedly, clearly assuming the worst.

Cullen found his eyes lingering at the back of Maxwell's neck. It was entirely unprotected. In fact, he was hardly wearing any protection at all — he should at least be wearing some light armor rather than those robes.

"It is possible that they are both telling the truth."

Cullen blinked with surprise as Maxwell twisted to look at Leliana, hope in his eyes. "You mean that both think the other is here to harm us, but both actually mean to help?" The Inquisitor grinned. "Leliana, that must be it!"

"That isn't the only other option, I'm afraid," Leliana cautioned. "There is one other, far more dangerous possibility."

"They could both be lying," Cullen predicted.

"It would be a clever strategy," Leliana said with a nod. "We would naturally assume that one must be telling the truth."

"No, Leliana, that can't —."

"Inquisitor, until we have evidence otherwise, I think we need to assume the worst."

Maxwell argued with naive and rather childish retorts, but Cullen did not pay attention. Dorian's warning was ringing far too clearly in Cullen's ears: And people are going to die.

Maybe it was time to play the fool.