"What I am about to tell you is not my secret," Cassandra began as she and Marcus sat at a large board table, far too large for the two of them. She watched plum velvet wine swirl in the goblet she held. She didn't like to recount this part of their story. For her part, she accepted responsibility for Solas' betrayal. Her first instinct had been distrust, as it ever seemed to be. She couldn't understand why she'd abandoned her instincts entirely, except that she'd been so entirely wrong about their inquisitor from the first moment.
She met Marcus' somber gaze. "After the breach, our forces were scattered. There was complete disarray, but I found myself in possession of a pair of unclaimed Elven mages," she laughed at that. "Solas was a wandering apostate with apparent knowledge of the veil, and El was a spy for her clan. They wanted to ascertain the likelihood of peace, and I could hardly blame them for that."
She continued in a deliberately moderate tone. She needed to be steady to tell the tale. "Lavellan had fallen from the rift, and if that were not enough, she did so with a mark on her hand, the mark of the rift. Solas believed the mark could close the rifts because… of course, he did. It was his damn orb that put it there."
Her voice lost that modulated calm she strove for and found so elusive most of the time, and she paused to take a sip from the goblet. Feeling steadier, she went on. "My only excuse is that at the time I believed him to have the expertise I did not. Lavellan was a likelier suspect than some random apostate. She'd survived the Fade. We believed that suggested some part in events."
Marcus finally cleared his throat. "She must have proven herself."
Cassandra nodded. "She did. By the time, we sealed the first breach I trusted her completely, and it was justified at every turn."
"Solas," Marcus hesitated. "You admired him."
She noticed that he hadn't asked a question. "I did. Secrets aside, he never made you wonder what he thought. Andraste forgive me, I encouraged him to pursue her. I wanted my friend to enjoy what days she had left, and I thought them … a perfect match."
Cassandra emptied her glass as the fire popped and crackled. Marcus quietly refilled it.
"You didn't know."
"I should have known," she insisted too loudly to be polite. "I'm sorry. It isn't your fault. He helped us, but that shouldn't have been enough. We didn't find out about his involvement until much later. He left as soon as we defeated Corypheus and his forces. We searched for him, but he was nowhere to be found. El was devastated. She told me later that she'd thought she'd have time…." Cassandra swallowed another mouthful of wine.
"As the Inquisition was besieged in politics, we discovered the plot to attack from the Qunari, another secret. It was then that we discovered who Solas was, and it was as if the Inquisitor lost him all over again as permanently as she then lost her hand."
Marcus stared into the fire before Cassandra heard his rumbling response to her story. He wouldn't judge her. She knew that. No one would ever judge her as thoroughly as she would judge herself.
"It's a unique kind of betrayal. I feel for Lady Lavellan."
His words surprised her, though she wasn't sure why. They were kindly said. "You do?"
With a firm nod, he said, "It's one thing to be deceived after you begin, but it's quite another to be deceived from the moment you met. It calls every moment after into question."
"You sound like the voice of experience." They'd both removed their boots and sat in shirtsleeves and pants as soldiers of all kinds did in barracks the world over. When he said nothing, she nudged his leg with her bare foot. "I am sorry."
He met her eyes with a half-smile, the kind that seemed sadder than no smile at all. "It was a lifetime ago, Milady."
"Sweet Andraste. Don't call me milady. It's Cassandra here, Marcus."
"All right, Cassandra."
"I can't believe it. Will the Maker's wonders never cease?"
He chuckled at that. "We had better hope they don't. We need every advantage."
Cassandra smiled broadly. "That we do. Tomorrow will be a long day. It's Kirkwall. I anticipate being hip deep in demons by sunset."
He stood and went to grab up his bedroll by the door.
"What are you doing?" She knew exactly what he was doing, but she would have none of that. "Marcus, I asked them to bring a cot in for me earlier. There's no need to sleep on the cold stone floor."
"I hope," he said slowly. "You don't actually believe that the Lady Seeker will be the one to take the cot. Surely, you couldn't be thinking along those lines."
Well, when he put it that way…. She nodded once. "I don't need that massive bed, Marcus."
"You will sleep in the bed, Cassandra," he said firmly causing Cassandra to snap her protest off short. She pinched her lips together to keep in the sharp words she'd almost let fly. He'd given her an order, but he meant to be kind. Darling kept telling her she needed to get better at accepting kindness.
Instead of rebellion, she offered him her own nod and said, "Thank you."
She turned to go to bed, and she swore she heard him mutter, "Maker's wonders" beneath his breath.
Rainy days weren't uncommon in Kirkwall. Cassandra pulled her cowl closer to her face in the bluster as they waited outside the old tower gate. The Knight-Captain took his sweet time coming out to see the recruits, yet when he finally did she had to tamp down the utter shock at seeing an old friend. Her recruit story wasn't going to work.
"Alexander?"
"Cassandra, what are you doing here?"
She said nothing for a moment, and the grizzled veteran who stood before her knew just what it meant. She'd known there would be no prevarication with Knight-Captain Alexander Martin.
"The Divine sent you."
Cassandra fought the urge to put her hand to her sword. "She did, Alex. She's heard that a tower opened in Kirkwall without reporting in to the Chantry." She decided to take another approach. "Since it's you, Alex, I can tell her it was simply an oversight. It's good to see you. Seeker Landover, this is Knight-Captain Alex Martin."
She watched him relax a bit, calculate how best to handle her. Knight-Captain Martin wasn't one to make mistakes. Something was wrong in this tower.
"I am pleased to see you as well," he waved at the guards to begin lifting the gate. "It's Knight-Commander now. Step into my office, Lady Seeker. I think I have some good Redcliff bootleg somewhere."
She eased into her pleasant smile, the one most people didn't know she had. "Don't say that loud enough for Captain Vallen to hear you." The older man laughed as he led them into the lower level of the Tower, up a short set of steps in the courtyard and into the private offices of the Templars.
She looked around wondering who had used these bare, utilitarian rooms before this. Hawke had some harrowing stories of the battles she fought within these walls. "Kirkwall seems to be recovering nicely," she said conversationally.
Alex pulled three glasses and a bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk and placed them on the desk. "She's doing all right. The old girl has a lot of life in her. The City of Chains," he said ruefully. "I often wonder if that's why so few people leave Kirkwall or seem to end up coming back." He referred, of course, to Kirkwall's dark history with the slave trade as much as to the massive chains in the harbor.
Cassandra tipped her glass his way and said, "To Kirkwall."
He returned the gesture. "Divine Victoria has concerns about the tower here, correct?"
Right to business then, she thought. "She did. That will be ended when I report back. You know how disorganized the whole world is these days. This is merely a formality at this point and I am grateful for that. Traveling seems to have become my whole life these days. It will be nice to get back to my own bed for a change."
Cassandra thanked the Maker that Marcus followed her lead in this completely since they hadn't expected a Templar at the gate who had a history with one of them. "Tired of campaigning, milady?" The Knight-Commander asked just this side of mockingly.
She let some of her reputation show through just to keep him off balance. "I would argue that I earned a rest, wouldn't you?"
"You certainly appear to be vindicated. That much is certain."
She didn't respond with more than a curt nod. "How is Allen, the young lieutenant?"
Pursing his lips, he shook his head. "Didn't make it. It was a damnable thing. That kid made it all the way through the blight only to die on guard duty in a Chantry hallway."
That was probably the most honest thing that Martin had said since he opened the gate. It also rang with bitterness. He hated mages. He'd never been one to trust them, but now, she sensed a full-blown hatred in his soul for magic and the men and women who practiced it.
"I'm sorry to hear it," she said softly. "He was a good man."
"He was a kid, but never mind that. What's it going to take to get the Chantry off our backs, hmm?"
Cassandra schooled her smile to be open, friendly, and completely without malice of any kind. He needed to buy what she was selling. "Oh, I'll just take the tour and report back. It will be as painless as possible, then a nice card game with friends, a long nap, and back home again. This time for a while, I hope."
He didn't like it, but he hid it well enough. "Sure. Sure. Lieutenant, will you see the Lady Seeker around the tower? I hope you will forgive me if I don't accompany you, Cassandra. Duty calls."
"Of course, Alex. We'll be finished and on our way. It really was good to see you again. It's good that you made it." Cassandra reached out and took the hand he offered.
His reply seemed sincere. "You, too, Cassandra. There aren't too many of us old dogs left in the ranks. She and Marcus followed the younger Templar out into the Tower courtyard.
