Cullen's head was positively pounding. The truly irritating sensation was not an unfamiliar one, but this one seemed to bother him more than the others. Headaches were fairly commonplace for him now, much to his disdain. He could accurately diagnose exactly which type it was most of the time. Much like the way one can typically pinpoint the exact difference between stomach pain caused by hunger from that caused by indigestion. It was stress, probably. Maker knows he's had a mountain of it lately…some that never truly went away…he wasn't even convinced that he'd ever get over it at this rate…

It could have just as easily been a direct effect of the current situation, however. Sitting in a large, empty hallway has an unnerving feeling on its own. But coupled with the feeling of being sent to await your punishment was positively dreadful. Cullen couldn't help but liken it to sitting outside the Principal's office. It was suitable enough analogy at first but the adequacy fell apart when he started thinking too deeply on it.

Divine Alexander was a far larger authority than the stern but fair man he had so many run-ins with in grade school. And the risks of this particular appointment were far more severe than an afternoon's detention. He could lose his job; in fact, he was certain that was the impending outcome, given all that had happened. Nevermind the fact that a templar isn't told to show up in their ceremonial attire if it isn't serious.

His mind wandered backwards through the recent events. After losing so much, the likelihood of losing his job was a devastating weight on his mind. What else did he have left? How would he put food on his family's table? Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad now that they were in the city…but even if he and his siblings found menial jobs, they'd still be scraping by. His nieces and nephews would be growing up in poverty, just like he and his siblings did. He would have broken another promise. If he lost his job, there wouldn't be a person left in his heart that he didn't disappoint, or outright betray. What was the point of even living if this was all he was good for?

"Stop that." Barris scolded sharply. His words echoed throughout the empty hall, forcing him to lower his voice to a whisper. "I can practically hear you degrading yourself."

"Then stop looking."

Barris rolled his eyes. "Right. Let me just start ignoring you, that will do wonders for your mental health."

Cullen leaned back against the wall, making their shared bench groan under his movement. He turned his head lazily towards him. His expression gave away just how defeated he felt. He knew Barris was trying to help him. He wasn't sure he even knew how to help himself, but at least his friend was trying. He couldn't help but feel grateful yet guilty at the same time. His friend cared enough about him to keep him from falling into the abyss, but Cullen was also the reason he even had to extend the effort in the first place. Because he couldn't do it himself. Just another failure on his part. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Words aren't going to cure what's wrong with your head right now." He locked eyes with him, hoping to drive his point across. "You have to accept that this bad shit happened. You have to accept that you did everything you could. You have to accept that all this shit that happened isn't your fucking fault."

If it were anyone else spouting that to him, he would have written it off as simple, empty platitudes. But Barris was there, for every step of it. He knew just how bad it was, how dire their circumstances were, the danger looming over them. Barris never had any qualms about calling him an idiot when the situation called for it. It suddenly dawned on him that he'd only gotten support from him since the wall came down. Perhaps he wasn't totally lost if he'd earned a friend like that.

Barris shrugged, relaxing against the wall as well. "You could also loosen up a bit. You're making me nervous just looking at you."

Cullen huffed a melancholy laugh. "You'll be fine. You did nothing wrong."

"Neither of us did, but here we are." Barris scowled at the large wooden doors in front of them. "Am I the only one feeling like we're about to get detention?"

"Here I thought you were trying to cheer me up."

"Nah," He smirked mischievously. "I think I'll leave that to Cassandra."

"Cassandra?"

"What do you mean 'Cassandra?' Don't you hold out on me."

"I…what?"

Barris scoffed playfully. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. I'll just get it from her later…"

"Get what from her? I don't even—"

"You do remember the bar right?" Barris cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your song?"

"My what? The bar?" Cullen glared down at him. Putting two-and-two together left him with only one possibility: it was Barris. He didn't know what he did, but he just knew he was guilty. He made a mental note to go check all of his social media to find out. "What did you do to me?"

"What? Nothing, nothing…I may have just told Skylar to, um, loosen you up."

"What in the Maker's name does that even mean? Who in the void is Skylar?"

Barris's smirk turned prideful. He whipped out his phone, shoving a picture of an elven girl in Cullen's face. "She happened to be the bartender last night. But now, she's my girl."

Cullen threw his head back and rolled his eyes. "Oh, for fucks sake, man. What did you do to me?"

"Hey, you had fun and you needed it. Cass volunteered to walk you home, seeing as how I was, um, unavailable." Barris chuckled at him. "You didn't even know how you got home?"

"I assumed my friends dropped me back off." Cullen deadpanned.

"Oh, I think Cass did more than that. I called to check on you the next morning and Cass answers your phone. She says you're fine but sleeping and she needs a ride back to the palace. So, I get there and you're passed out in your bed. Naked. Her makeup is on your pillows and she is wearing your damn pj's."

Cullen was absolutely dumbfounded. He had woken up too late today to do anything but rush himself out the door for this appointment. He hadn't had any time to inspect his apartment, or himself frankly for any signs of…certain activities.

"You really don't remember any of this?"

"I don't even remember 'my song', of course not!"

"So, you didn't even talk to her today?!"

"Was I supposed to?!"

"I mean, if you screwed her, you probably don't want your next meeting to be in a professional setting. Just a thought."

Cullen ran his hands down his face. "I hate you. I hate me. I hate everything."

The large wooden door suddenly sprang open, reveling a slender woman in dark leather armor. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her black hood. The silver pin on her shoulder was the only subtle sign that identified her as the Left Hand of the Divine. She regarded them with a friendly yet somehow unnerving smile. "Gentlemen, the Divine will see you now."

Cullen exchanged a nervous look with Barris. Both knew better than to drag their feet though. They moved as gracefully and silently as they could manage past Leliana who looked at them now as though she were sizing up an opponent. Once they passed the threshold, she swiftly locked the door behind them. Cullen and Barris stared at the door for a moment, listening to Leliana's footsteps as she scurried down the hallway. It certainly felt strange that she wasn't escorting them, and that she all but fled the second she could. But neither of them felt comfortable enough in their situation to question it aloud at the moment.

They faced another long hallway, much like the one they had just left. Everything seemed to have been constructed luxuriously right down to the golden inlays in the tile. But the lack of proper decorations gave off the impression that the space was brand new or perhaps sparingly used. At the end of the hall was a large, round table. A bastard sword was imbedded right in the middle of it, only the hilt and an inch or so of the blade was visible. There were four chairs placed on either side of the table, flanking the intricate throne the Divine sat upon. The throne had a rather detailed sculpture of Andraste at its back, seeming thriving amidst the flames that engulfed her. It seemed to be a rather pointed and clear message if Cullen had ever seen one: Only Andraste herself is above him, only she will judge him.

The Divine was a younger man, much to Cullen's surprise. He was expecting an elder, aged with wisdom and knowledge. But instead this man was far closer to his own age than the other way around. He was dressed in what seemed to be half-mail armor, decorated in just as much detail as everything else around him. His appearance practically screamed of someone who thought too highly of themselves and his demeanor only furthered that perception. His posture was slouched, almost overly relaxed.

Cullen would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so scared of the repercussions. He never understood why the nobility insisted on doing that. He knew why they would claim that they would do it: to not-so-subtly communicate that you and everyone around you were entirely beneath them. But in reality, all it ever succeeded to communicate to him was that they were all a bunch of lazy, over-privileged brats who wouldn't know proper manners if it hit them square in the jaw.

The man acknowledged them briefly when they entered his space but kept his eyes rapidly swimming over the tablet in his hand. As the silence drew on, he continued to pretend as if neither of them was there. Standing right in front of him. Cullen and Barris exchanged an incredulous look. Both were starting to feel as they were slowly dying an awkward death. Cullen, of course, was too polite to say anything. But Barris was never one to blindly follow insanity.

Barris cleared his throat, calling out to the seemingly absent man on the throne. "Your Holiness?"

"Yes, yes, hold your britches." He refocused again on the tablet, typing furiously away at it before tossing it onto the table carelessly. "You would not believe how hard it is to organize an outing these days. As if Kirkwall of all places is worthy of all these security measures and red tape. I mean, how boring. I'm solidify a marriage-alliance, not plotting an invasion—well, right now, anyway."

The templars shared confused look before Barris responded. "I wasn't aware that Kirkwall had a Queen to match our new King, your reverence."

Cullen gave Barris a sideways glance. He hadn't heard anything about a new king. He absently wondered if there were even more things that he didn't remember…he silently vowed never to drink again.

The Divine scoffed, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Of course not, they're not that civilized. No, this little beauty is for me. She's already got Kirkwall by the balls and she doesn't even know it yet. With my help, she's gonna take Kirkwall. And when the rest of the Marchers all bow down to her, I'm gonna make her my wife." He leaned his elbows over the table. "What do you think?"

Barris very clearly didn't want to react at all much less answer a question. "Of what, exactly?"

"My plan! It's rather ingenious, isn't it?"

This was not the way Barris had ever envisioned the Divine being. All he could think was to quote the scripture. "The Divine shall serve as he has always served, as the Maker's prophet and Andraste's champion."

"Yes, yes, who knows the Chant better than the Divine, hmm?" He pushed off the table, taking the time to fiddle with every one of the chairs as he made his way up to them. "Do you know why we sing the chant, instead of just reciting it? Because I happen to like it. I think it flows better, it rings into your soul with a better emotional pull. Do you know why you templars vow to serve Andraste for the rest of your days? Because it makes you all think that what you're doing is so immensely important that our Lady will need you until you're on the pyre. It makes you all so much more willing to heed my words, to carry out the Maker's will." He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the table in front of them. "And do you know what the Maker's will is? Mine. It's whatever the fuck I say it is. So, when I say to myself, 'I want to stomp Kirkwall under my shiny boot', the Maker wills me to do anything and everything to make that happen. And you know what? I think I'll like this marriage. If nothing else, that woman is gonna be a damn fine trophy."

The devoted templars felt as though the rug had been pulled from under them. Listening to the Divine talk as he did made them question every little bit of their religion, their careers, their entire lives as it were. Was it all a vicious lie?

"What do you think of that, Lieutenant?"

Cullen certainly didn't envy his friends position at the moment, but he desperately wished he could trade places with him now. If anyone should have been tasked with questioning his faith so openly it should have been him. Barris didn't deserve that.

He surprised both Cullen and the Divine with his next words. Barris stared right back at the Divine with a defiant look in his eyes. "I pledged to serve Andraste and enforce her holy mandates. I intend to take that pledge with me to the end."

The Divine smirked. "Good answer." He looked him over more closely. "I read your report, Ser Barris. In fact, I read all through your file too. Such an interesting story."

"We're not here to talk about my past, Your Perfection."

"Oh, you do have some bite to you. Look at that. Well, you're not wrong. You've proven your point. Not the blind follower you make yourself out to be." He slapped Barris on the shoulder. "You should keep that, you'll find it useful soon enough."

Barris clearly bristled at the touch but didn't react otherwise. The Divine seemed to take that as a victory, chuckling quietly to himself before he turned his attention to Cullen. "As for you, I have questions."

Cullen swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew this was coming, of course. But actually being addressed to speak now felt as though he were stuck at the top of a roller coaster. "Yes, sir."

He crossed his arms again, staring Cullen down. "Why does your report read like a drug-addled fever dream?"

"Sir?"

"You wrote about your Knight-Captain hunting you down like an animal. You said she was covered in a red, crystal-like substance that you believe to be lyrium. You say the circle tower exploded. After the wall came down." The Divine pushed off the table, keeping his gaze locked on Cullen as he took a step closer. "You say you executed your friend and subordinate simply because he asked you to."

Cullen's gaze fell to the floor. That practiced thousand-yard-stare couldn't keep the memory of Rylen out of his head. "There was nothing simple about that."

"Why did you do it?" The Divine pressed.

Barris's words suddenly rang through his head. He had to accept it. Rylen didn't want to suffer. He begged for it. He had to help him…Cullen picked up his head to look to the Divine once again. "It was necessary."

The Divine stepped back again, looking him over curiously. "A very good answer."

A sudden thud from behind them drew their attention. There was a faint sound of a muffled voice before the large door was violently kicked open, sending splinters down the hallway. The Divine groaned as he watched Cassandra stomp towards them. "Maker's fucking breath, woman, that door was hand crafted."

"Then perhaps you'll remember that the next time you have Leliana lock it." Upon noticing Cullen and Barris she acknowledged them with a nod. "It seems I needn't have been concerned."

Cullen wasn't sure to take the nod as a sign that she was upset or indifferent. But neither, he concluded, seemed like a good thing for him. He was thankfully at least, that seeing her here was able to drag him rapidly out of that familiar downward spiral in his head.

The Divine cocked an eyebrow at her. "So, they're more than just mere acquaintances?"

Cassandra glared at him. She seemingly was comfortable voicing her displeasure in his presence, but then again, Cassandra didn't seem to be afraid of anything or anyone. "I know them well enough to personally vouch for both of them. Ser Barris is a fully capable templar and Cullen is an exceptional leader."

It put Cullen at ease to see her give him a small smile when she spoke about him. The awkwardness of the situation was dampened a bit knowing that she clearly wasn't ready to lop his head off or anything of the sort.

"So," The Divine turned slightly towards her, with a mischievous grin. "Do you like him?"

Cassandra snapped her glare back to him. "I came to inform you that the Warden-Commander is on his way with the Heir-Apparent."

"Yes, yes, it'll be a lovely little reunion. But I asked you if you liked the Knight-Commander."

"I know what you asked." She snapped. "And you know I don't answer personal questions."

The Divine sighed playfully. "Well, I certainly hope you do. You're going to be spending a lot of time with him now."

Cassandra's brows furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

The Divine adopted a cocky posture as he made his way back to his throne. Once he sat down again, he looked over Barris and Cullen once more—this time as if he were settling on a particularly challenging move in a chess game. "Congratulations are in order, Ser Barris. I'm naming you the new Knight-Commander."

Barris's response was immediate, long before Cullen had even processed what had just been said. "No!"

Cassandra looked as if she were about to launch herself across that table and strangle the Divine. "You can't do this!"

The Divine seemed genuinely surprised. "Such defiance!" He looked down at Cullen with an amused smile. "You seem to have a gift for inspiring loyalty."

Cullen couldn't respond. He couldn't even formulate proper words in his head. His lungs felt like they caved in, like they had given up on even drawing breath any longer. This was it. That rollercoaster just fell out beneath him. He was falling indefinitely. He wasn't sure where rock bottom actually was now that he had just kept hitting it for the past few days.

Barris took an aggressive step towards him. Cassandra threw out a hand to stop his advance, giving him a stern look. He heeded her warning, settling on yelling at him instead. "I won't accept a position you just took from my friend!"

The Divine turned his cocky demeanor back towards him. "Even if the Maker himself willed it?"

"Even so."

He huffed out a laugh, "Well then it's a good thing I didn't take anything from him." He relaxed in his chair again as he addressed Cullen. "You're a Seeker now."

It didn't seem real. He was certain he was fired and now he was…promoted? To a Seeker? Was that even possible? All he could think to do was look to his friends for clarification. But they both seemed to be just as shocked as he was.

They didn't seem to have time to process it, either. A grizzled-looking man in Warden armor strolled confidently into the room, followed closely by…wait, was that Alistair?

"You're alive!" Alistair nearly shrieked. Rainier groaned at the sight of the future King of Ferelden barreling into Barris and Cullen and pulling them into a bear-hug. Barris and Cullen were clearly caught off guard but knowing their friend was alive and well was enough for them to take a moment to celebrate.

Barris laughed incredulously but hugged his friend back. "I knew the 'spawn wouldn't have got you."

Cullen was still too stunned from the promotion to really speak. All he could seem to manage to do was cling onto Alistair as if he were about to be ripped from him. He fought hard against it, but a couple of stray tears landed on Alistair's shoulder. Alistair gave Barris a concerned look, he wouldn't have ever described Cullen as an affectionate guy, but here he was holding onto him like a lifeline.

"Ah, he needs this," Barris whispered to him. "Just let him have it."

Alistair shrugged, locking his arm around Cullen's shoulders. He clearly missed a lot, probably a lot of bad, judging by Cullen's reaction. He always did joke that Cullen needed a hug when he was cranky. "I'm so glad you're here! These people are trying to tell me I'm the King!"

Cullen snapped back from him. He gripped Alistair's arms; his now reddened eyes looked concerned. "You know?"

"It's true?!"

"It…well, yes. The templars, we were tasked to keep you safe within our ranks. It was a secret the Knight-Commanders were meant to keep. Your, um…the king wanted you protected, since you were the…" Cullen sighed defeatedly. "Back-up plan, essentially."

Alistair stepped back, throwing his hands in his hair. "This is insane. No way. I used to ask the priests about my parents, about my records, literally all the time."

Barris kept looking back and forth between the two of them, looking like he was trying to deduce a particularly hard math problem. "They never told you?"

"Well when they said 'the fucking King of Ferelden', I didn't really believe them."

Cullen just started chuckling. Alistair and Barris seemed genuinely concerned that he'd actually gone over the edge. "Only you would be able to get a priest to curse."

Rainier cleared his throat loudly behind them. "Apologies, my King, but we have more pressing matters."

"Oh, don't mind me." The Divine called from his throne. "I was just about to order some popcorn."

"Ugh," Cassandra scoffed as she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, uh, right, yes, the um…kingliness…" Alistair straightened his posture and stepped up to the table. He was fully set and ready to be the proud and confident monarch that Solona and Rainier had coached him into being but he took one look at the Divine and suddenly got flustered. "Right, so, I'm the, uh, King of you know, um, Ferelden so…"

Rainier rubbed his forehead across his head as if he were actually suffering an aneurysm. "The King promises a formal alliance with the Chantry so long as you support his claim to the throne."

"Uh, right. That. Exactly what he said."

Barris just stared at Alistair like a deer in headlights. "This isn't happening. None of this is happening."

Cullen could barely contain a prideful grin. "So proud to be a Fereldan right now."

The Divine scowled at Alistair. "Oh, the nobility is just going to eat him alive."

Rainier stepped up next to Alistair, giving him a look to silently will him into keeping his mouth shut. "His wife will be more than capable of handling the nobility."

"He has a wife?" The Divine asked skeptically.

"I have a wife?" Alistair whispered to Rainier.

Rainer responded, completely ignoring Alistair for the moment. "Solona Amell. They even have a son together. Works out perfectly."

Cullen and Barris exchanged shocked looks. This was definitely a story they were going to have to hear.

The Divine leaned forward in his seat, eyeing Rainier with a suspicious look. "And this marriage of his is perfectly legal? Documented in all the right places?"

"Of course it is," Rainier retorted. "If the Maker wills it."

The Divine seemed to ponder on that for a moment, before looking to Cassandra for an answer. "Why does Amell sound familiar?"

Cassandra deadpanned, as if this were a conversation that had been repeated several times already. "The Amells have strong ancestral ties to Kirkwall. Magister Hawke and her remaining family reside with their ancient Amell manor. Magister Hawke appears in the family as a second-cousin to Ms. Amell."

Alistair's head snapped back towards Cullen before he could stop himself. Cullen and Barris both seemed to be trying very hard to pretend like they had no idea what or who Cassandra was talking about. It wasn't working real well on Cullen's part though, he was never a very good liar.

The Divine grew a dastardly grin as he looked over Cullen. "Warden-Commander, I think you made the best possible choice here."

"So it would seem." Rainier grumbled.

The Divine motioned to Cassandra. "Before you get everyone out of my sight, I have a job for you."

She rested her weight on one leg, placing her hands on her hips and regarding him with a seemingly permanent scowl on her face as she begrudgingly awaited his order.

"I want you to pick your new partner's brain for every little detail he knows about my lovely bride-to-be. And yes, I mean every. Little. Detail."

Cassandra shot a sympathetic look to Cullen before responding. She didn't know the full story, of course, just what was in the vague reports of the incident. But there was obviously more to it, and she got the feeling Cullen wasn't going to be particularly fond of sharing it. "As you wish."