He dissected the meeting with the Herald. Every single word, expression, and movement were recorded in his mind in great detail. He decided to find Cassandra before the war council meeting. She wasn't hard to find given her rather strict routine. He admired her dedication and strong will. He aspired to it, in fact. She believed in him in such a way that he felt obligated to succeed.
She was eating alone in the corner of the tavern. She nodded a distracted, occasional greeting without moving her gaze from a book on the table. The tavern was full of patrons, all there for their serving of breakfast. He was uncomfortable with the tightness of all the bodies in the small space. He tried to focus on his task.
After retrieving his own food, he weaved his way to her. The soldiers grew rigid and quiet as he passed. He ignored them, hoping they'd ignore his presence in time as well. It took a few moments, but they returned to their chatter. The book she read was pressed hard against the table, hiding its cover from prying eyes.
"Seeker," he said, sitting across from her. He noticed some people leaning against walls and others pushing each other for a seat. Though, this one chair across from her had remained empty.
She glanced up. She quickly slipped the book into the deep pocket of her jacket hanging on the back of her chair. Her eyes widened. "Commander, it's always a surprise to find you here," she said with a smile.
He huffed. He looked down at the food given to him. It wasn't pretty, but maybe that was the nausea. His walk before dawn, he realized, hadn't helped much. The Herald distracted him for a fleeting moment, but the sickness bubbled inside him. He worried his difficulty eating would be noticed by the others in such a public place.
How would morale suffer if anyone else knew of their commander's state, though? Cassandra knew of it, yet still believed in his capabilities. He wasn't sure if he'd live through it, though. Cassandra was adamant about his will to survive it. She seemed so sure about everything. Another thing he admired about her.
"And for good reason," he said, gesturing to the full establishment. "How do you manage any amount of focus in a place like this? I can barely think. I can't imagine reading."
"For a commander of an army, you do hate being around people."
He laughed, leaning back a bit. "You don't much like it either."
"I think the warmth is what entices me, more than the company," she said. "Besides your company, of course, when you do care to eat something. When was the last time you ate something, Cullen?" She looked at him with a certain softness. She reserved the look for a select set of people in the rarest of moments. He felt undeserving of her time...her care. She was a worthy friend, perhaps one of his only friends. Was he worthy of any care at all?
He shot a glance around nervously, as if anyone could be listening to their conversation in such a place. "I've had some difficulty, yes. I do eat, though. I just prefer to do it… not here. I'm not sure why you do."
"Well, if nothing else, it is one of the warmest places in Haven," she said.
"I thought you enjoyed the cold."
"May I not also enjoy shedding the thick gloves and heavy coat to properly enjoy some reading and a hot meal?" she said. She had finished already. She looked down at his untouched bowl with a bit of judgement. Perhaps it was pity. Either way, he felt the heat of embarrassment rising in him.
"The Herald came to see me this morning," he said.
He tried to cut off any attempts from her to question his well-being. In terms of his health, he told her the facts, but feared worrying her any further than necessary. The specifics of the thoughts that accompanied those facts were only his burden to bear. They were unyielding. The memories that haunted him and the longing for things he could never have plagued him endlessly.
He added, "Well, just before dawn, actually, which made her even more of a strange sight." He smiled. He was doing that a lot more lately.
She shook her head and grunted. "Both of you are ridiculous. Never sleeping, always working. I woke up one morning to find her practicing some sort of… I'm not sure how to describe it. She went on ceaselessly, though. It was the most she'd spoken to me and it was barely dawn," Cassandra paused. She studied his face. He listened intently, finding himself enraptured by the stories of the Herald.
She continued. "The Hinterlands have been set ablaze by this war, Cullen... Everything was in ruin, in more ways than I can count. The nature, the wildlife - I found comfort in the idea that it would come back in time. I wouldn't have considered it a priority." She crossed her arms. "Well, patience isn't something I'd consider a strength of hers."
"Sounds like someone else I know," he said. He had so thoroughly imagined the Herald ripping people apart with her power, including himself and all of Haven. It was hard to remember the other purposes magic could serve. "Did she manage it?"
"Oh, of course she did. If that didn't work, she'd simply find some other way to make it happen, even if it meant planting each seed individually."
He chuckled. He imagined the Herald placing seeds throughout the Hinterlands, cultivating her own expansive garden. All the while, Cassandra would be sitting atop a hill in defeat, watching her with such ire. "I can't tell if you're annoyed or impressed."
She smiled. "A constant problem for me, I'm sure. I am certainly impressed. Very much so, in fact. She is… not what I expected. Magic has always made me wary, as you very well know, but she is a sight to behold."
While she was speaking, he had forced some food in his mouth. It was hard, but he did it by focusing on her words. She sounded just as bewitched as he felt. He tried to picture the magic she described. It washed over scorched land, inviting life of all kinds to grow and thrive once again. The Herald saved lives - created life - with magic. She didn't just destroy life. The strength she had came in many forms. Still, he found himself fearing it, no matter the shape it took.
When he looked down at his bowl again, it was empty. He sighed in relief. The sight of an empty bowl or plate was rare. Though he did force himself to eat, it was never in the proper capacity. So in moments like these, it felt like a small success. When he looked back up at Cassandra, she was smiling with a similar kind of relief.
He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. "Should we head to the meeting?" he asked, clearing his throat.
She stood up and put her coat back on. "Yes, I suppose it is about that time. You'll have to tell me what she said on the way there."
"What?" He froze up. He turned red, then stumbled to put his warmer effects back on.
Cullen felt the conversation with the Herald had gone well...for the most part. Well, it could have gone much worse. She smiled at him. It seemed like she really did smile at him. He feared giving himself away if he spoke too much on it, though. There were too many feelings. Not surprisingly, ones he couldn't quite place. Better to just avoid it. Cassandra, though, did not allow for any avoidance. She had a more confrontational style.
"The Herald," she said. "You said she stopped by. I'm interested as to what you spoke about. I did tell her to speak to you. I'm owed some details."
"I never knew you to be a gossip, Cassandra."
He followed her lead, returning the dish to the counter. A wave of calm washed over him when he stepped back into the cold. The harsh air felt welcoming to him. There was always a heat building deep inside of him. It could never be cooled, but the pain of the air on his face made him forget about it for a moment. Both of them took deep breaths.
"Oh, Commander, beneath all this, I am many things," she said.
He sighed. "If you really insist on knowing, she -"
He was cut off by an elf girl running at full speed towards them. Cullen recognized her from around Haven, but couldn't place her name. She barely halted to a stop before running directly into them. "Lady Cassandra," she said, panting. "I'm sorry, if it's not a bother, I am in need of some assistance. Thank you, my Lady. I'm sorry, my Lady."
"Is everything okay?" Cassandra asked.
The girl shook her head. "It's, well," she paused, glancing nervously at Cullen, "it's a difficult situation. I tried to handle it, Lady Cassandra, I swear. I did try. I'm sorry." There was a touch of fear in her voice. Cullen wanted to accompany Cassandra, not trusting the situation. However, he knew Cassandra could handle it, whatever the situation. The girl also seemed uncomfortable around him. He swore that hadn't been an issue before. He tried to shake it off.
"Okay, I have a few moments to spare. Tell me what's happened on the way," Cassandra said. She nodded at Cullen, then hurried away with the girl.
Cullen fell back into his thoughts. The girl needed Cassandra's help, but seemed to ignore him completely. It was strange. People were, in general, rather nervous in his presence. Most of the time, he assumed, it was out of respect. However, this felt different. Perhaps he was reading too much into it, as usual. The way she looked at him, though...
He arrived at the meeting promptly, if not a bit early. Listening to Josephine drone on about nobles and the Chantry felt a waste of his time most days, but the Herald had returned. Something about her being there meant things would be different. As he put his hand on the door to open it, however, his heart beat faster. He closed his eyes. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door.
Only a single, small form was in the room. She was bent over the table, studying the map. He watched her for a moment before shutting the door. She was startled into cursing something lightly under her breath. He immediately started apologizing.
She turned her head. He remained stiff, unmoving from his position. "Commander!" she said. She sounded excited, but he denied himself the satisfaction of believing that. And she had said that word again. Each time it sounded smoother. Commander. No more Knight-Captain. He wondered what she truly saw when she looked at him, though. The Commander or the Knight-Captain?
He couldn't help it. A smirk pushed at the corners of his lips. "Herald," he said. He encouraged his body to move to the proper side of the table. The angle he was currently regarding her from was far too flattering for her. Much too distracting for him. Oh, Maker.
"You've come at the perfect time," she said.
"I have?" he asked. He quirked an eyebrow, leaning on the table himself. He tried to act as relaxed as possible. She eyed his arms, trying to hide underneath falling strands of hair.
"Well, yes. One option is, you do not come to these meeting things at all, which is preferred, of course."
"Of course," he said, trying to be playful, rather than hurt. His presence was a nuisance to her, at best. "Although, I -"
She looked up with a smile. All his thoughts became lost in that smile.
"Or, I had another thought. You come early to educate me on the intricacies of this map. I didn't know half these places existed. And all these shemlen names. I don't know how I'll ever remember," she said. He noticed a red spread across her cheeks. She touched a gloved hand to her face, hiding beneath it. She shifted her gaze back to the table.
"Cassandra did mention you lacked direction," he said with a laugh.
She huffed. "Oh, I'm sure that made for good reading. The comedy of the Dalish elf who constantly loses her way, yes?" She looked upset, but he couldn't quite see her entire face. His heart raced. He mentally hit himself over the head.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I -"
She looked up at him and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I like to gossip every now and then, too."
"You'll fit in great around here, then," he muttered. He cleared his throat. "Cassandra spoke highly of you, actually. There was only a dash of commentary on your...distractibility."
"Oh, I know," she said. "I'm mostly just teasing you, Commander. I read all of her reports." She had a pawn from the side of the table in her hand, twirling it nervously between her fingers.
"That's unusual. She let you read her reports?" he asked. The Herald looked up with a sly smile. He chuckled. "I see."
"If something's being said about me, I want to know," she said. "If at all possible, I'd like the chance to set up a defense for myself on her accounts of me."
"Why would you possibly need to defend yourself? We drew only positives from the reports."
"I'm teasing again, Commander. You're only too easy," she said. He turned red and stood up straight. She looked up at him with a big, goofy grin. "Though, really, I would like to clarify a few things. For one, I'm not as foolhardy as she makes me seem..."
Cassandra came charging through the door in her usual fashion. He let out a breath. He didn't realize how tense he had been that whole time. "Foolhardy. Yes, that was the word I was looking for, thank you, Herald," Cassandra said. She stood in her usual spot next to the Herald and shot a glare.
The Herald rolled her eyes, standing upright. Leliana and Josephine came in right after Cassandra, having their own conversation about another Orlesian noble's threats. The thought of Orlais was enough to make his skin crawl. He thought about the Herald being there, and in Val Royeaux of all places. She would never make it out alive. She couldn't lie, not well. She stood out. An elf and an apostate. So many things about her made it a death sentence to send her there.
The Herald moved further backwards, away from the table. She made herself smaller, crossing her arms tight across her chest. The rest of them stood close to the table, discussing what was to come next. Her smile had been replaced by a deep frown. It had been nearly an hour. Still, she hadn't spoken.
"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea," Josephine said. She tapped her quill thoughtfully.
Cullen scoffed. "You can't be serious."
She glared at him. "Mother Giselle isn't wrong: at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."
"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana asked.
They were at a standstill. Cassandra believed the Chantry would listen, stressing they needed the Chanty's support. Josephine, of course, believed they needed to bow down and kiss the feet of anyone with anything resembling power or wealth. This time, Leliana and Cullen found themselves on the same side of the argument. They had their own allies, their own army, and the only way to close the Breach. They had the Herald. They could find the power and recognition they needed to approach the templars or the rebel mages some other way. Sending the Herald into that place … it wasn't worth the risk.
"Let's ask her," Josephine said. They all turned to look at the Herald.
She pulled herself out of her brooding silence with a loud sigh. She put her hands on her hips, digging her fingers into them. "You want me to walk into a pit of vipers. Do not ask this of me."
"They are not vipers just because they like to hiss," Josephine said. She smiled at her gently, probably an attempt to be encouraging, but the Herald shot a terrifying glare at her.
The Herald took a step closer to the table. "I'm just concerned going to Val Royeaux won't actually solve any problems. We don't need the Chantry to close the Breach. Why not put your time and resources into something meaningful?"
"I agree. This just lends credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says," Cullen said. She moved her gaze to him, softening it as it landed.
"I will go with her. Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them," Cassandra asserted.
"But why? This is nothing but a -" Leliana started.
"What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call -"
"What of our missing soldiers? Have you simply forgotten about them? They wait for us, yet we flirt with the Chantry. The very same Chantry that openly desires for my own demise." The Herald spoke with such force, yet her voice shook near the end. It reminded him of the night they spoke near the training grounds. He took a step away from her rage.
Josephine attempted to support Cassandra's request. "In order to close the Breach -"
"I know this. I know the priority. The Chantry treated me with scorn and disgust my entire life. I won't pretend otherwise, in order to play your silly game," she hissed.
Everyone remained silent. Cassandra's face was twisted up in disgust. The Herald wasn't really looking at any of them, though, more downcast, just below any of their gazes. She shook her head and took a deep breath. "However, these soldiers were taken while trying to do good in the name of this cause. Your cause. You were just discussing the incredible growth of your Inquisition. Then, let's decide what exactly that means. You can have your fun with the Chantry, but it'll have to be without me for now. I'll be going to … Mire? The uh ..."
Cullen cleared his throat. "You'll be going to The Fallow Mire, Herald?"
"Yes, there. The Fallow Mire. Val Royeaux will just have to wait."