"Welcome back."
Leliana's voice was soft, but in the late night, Cullen could hear it from where he was standing in the Chantry's main hall. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at the wall, arms crossed, feet planted firmly on the ground.
The door to the war room was open, and the light from a single candle flickered into the hall, casting soft shades and long shadows. He started to walk back toward the room, intent on squaring things away, but stopped just short of the doorway when he heard the Herald.
"I…" Her voice was resigned, miserable. That hadn't been what he'd wanted. He'd just wanted her to understand that they were supposed to be a team. They were supposed to be working together. He wanted to know what he'd done that had made her mistrust him so, use him so. Was it just because he'd been a templar? Was it something more? "I'm sorry."
"You mostly torment our dear commander, really," Leliana laughed gently, her voice kind. He saw her glance at him from where she sat, just close enough to the door to peer out. Though she clearly saw him, she gave no hint of it as she turned her attention to the Herald. "Josie and I were wondering when you'd get to us."
"I'm not that bad," the Herald protested, only to stop short on the last word. A silence followed before she whispered, softer, "Am I?"
Cullen paced closer to the door, leaning just out of the candle light against the same wall where she rested on the other side. Leliana had shooed him away when the Herald had collapsed, helping the woman to the wall and telling him to get some air. His hands rested on the familiar curve of the pommel of his blade. He hadn't gotten far.
"A little childish sometimes, certainly, but I suspect you did not have many people to deal with in the Wilds."
He could hear shuffling as she moved about on the other side of the wall. "It is much quieter out there."
He felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words he had thrown at her, even if he half thought she hadn't heard most of it. She'd seemed to lose focus shortly after he'd started accusing her of betrayal.
He'd been so angry. She was undermining him, again. And worse, she'd played on his emotions. She'd cozied up to him, visiting him in his personal quarters, only to trick him.
His head ached.
"And full of bears, according to Varric," Leliana added. That drew Cullen out of his thoughts, mollifying the pain in his head for a little while. He rolled his eyes as he remembered the report the dwarf had handed him, insisting it was of the utmost importance. It had been one of the stupidest things he'd ever read, so naturally he'd shared it with Leliana and Josephine. "He submitted his own special report to tell us how you wooed a rampaging bear to save Cassandra from having to fight it barehanded."
They'd all agreed not to tell Cassandra about that.
"There were no bears."
Leliana laughed. "Josie will be disappointed to hear that."
The Herald let out a deep sigh.
She was maddening, but her heart was in the right place. That was partially why it was so much worse. He knew that she was trying to help, and fumbling brilliantly. If they were just simple townsfolk, her efforts might almost be endearing.
But they weren't. They were the leaders of the Inquisition, and the world's safety fell to them. They couldn't afford more of these blunders.
Cullen quietly tapped his fingers against his hilt, considering that perhaps if he sat her down and explained everything that went into his and the others' jobs, she might not wreak nearly as much havoc. After all, half the people in the Inquisition didn't understand what the title 'commander' fully entailed, so how could he expect some wilds apostate to know what she was interfering with?
"I want to…I don't know how to do this," she murmured, drawing him from his thoughts again. "I just think…I've known plenty who would rather die than actually give up information. Who have died rather than do so. Torture and threats don't work as well as you think."
He closed his eyes. He'd figured that she hadn't been completely alone out in the Wilds. Depending on where, she'd likely lived near the Avvar or perhaps even a Chasind clan—though the Chasind were much more afraid of magic than the Avvar were.
More than that, though, he knew that people often sought kindred spirits. He and damned near everyone else had figured that she'd likely known other mages out there. The way she refused to talk about certain subjects had made it glaringly obvious, and while he'd mostly dealt with Circle mages, he had interacted with enough apostates to know just how neurotic they could be if they thought their secrets were unraveling.
That was why he'd let her keep hers. No need to get her guard back up when she was just beginning to lower it.
Not that his tiptoeing had done any good.
They were right back where they'd started with her. She was going to be skittish around them again.
Was it a fear that they'd hunt her fellow apostates down that made her so cautious, that kept her from trusting the rest of them?
Was that why she was so intent on keeping him at a distance? Of keeping all of them that way?
With her professing she wanted a fresh start, seeming to really step up, and then coming to him to ask for his help… He wasn't sure why it had meant as much to him as it had.
And then, just as he'd been drifting to sleep, his hand had brushed against his pocket, where his keys should have been, as he realized he hadn't put them away yet. And they'd been gone. He'd known exactly who had taken them, and figured out what she was likely up to as well, though he'd prayed it wasn't the case.
And then he'd seen the unconscious guards.
Maker, didn't she know what a templar could actually do to her? She said she'd dealt with templars before, but…
If their prisoner had gotten loose, he could have…
They needed the mark. That was why he'd been worried.
Even as he thought that, he wasn't sure why it felt like a lie.
"You have a gentle spirit, Finley," Leliana was saying, "But compassion can only go so far. I think it is likely as Cullen said. That templar was not going to give you anything useful."
"I guess we won't know," she whispered. Another silence. "I thought…if I could find things out, bring you the information, it would be okay. He might be a little angry, but the good would outweigh the bad."
"Why did you not talk to us, though?"
She was quiet for a time. "Cassandra would not let me be alone with him. She said I was too important. But…" The rustling of clothes interrupted her as she shifted position. "I don't want to be important."
Cullen's shoulders slumped. Even as he looked away, toward the side where shadows clung to the corners of the hall, she began to speak again, recapturing his attention.
"Do you think Commander Rutherford will believe me if I apologize? I wasn't trying to hurt him. I just… I thought I could get what I needed and have his keys back to him by morning, along with answers."
"He will, but give him some time before you go to see him. He was very worried about you, after all."
"I was no—" Cullen objected, cutting himself off as he stepped back through the doorway, mouth twisting into a scowl. Leliana smirked up at him, mischief in her eyes. He crossed his arms, glaring out into the main hall. "We can't afford to let the Herald get herself killed when she's the one with the mark."
The Herald was sitting against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picked at one of her pant-legs. She made no attempt to move, watching her feet as though expecting that he might pick up their argument where it had been dropped.
More guilt.
"Now, can I go get some sleep and trust that the two of you will head to your quarters as well?" Leliana rose to her feet, offering the Herald a hand. She stood up without any assistance. "Or do you intend to resume your fight as soon as I'm gone?"
When neither of them made an effort to respond, instead both simply looking exhausted, Leliana's lips quirked into a smile. "Good." She nodded to each of them, pausing when she inspected Finley again. "Would you like me to walk you to your room?"
"I'll be fine."
With that, Leliana swept out into the Chantry hall and was gone. It was eerie how quietly that woman could move, even when she was in her night clothes—he'd woken her up when he'd gone searching for another set of keys to the dungeon.
Finley slipped up to the door, sliding past him carefully, making sure not to get close enough to accidentally bump into him. He sighed. "Herald." She stilled, finally daring a glance up at him. No doubt she was embarrassed to have confessed what she had when he was in earshot. He shouldn't have been eavesdropping. "I didn't hurt your arm, did I?"
"I'm fine," she wiggled her fingers. "Healer, remember?"
He frowned. "So I did hurt you?"
"What?" She scrunched her brow together. "No. You…I'm fine. You didn't hurt me."
He scratched the back of his neck, moving to extinguish the candle before following her out of the war room and locking it behind him. When he turned to go, it was in time to see her dropping down from the rafters near the door and pulling her shoes on.
Andraste's grace….
Eyeing her, he began to walk toward the exit, taking in a slow breath when she waited for him.
"Did I really make it worse? With that templar?"
"You…" Cullen rolled his shoulders, slowly. "Yes. We both did."
"I gave him numbing herbs. For the pain from the lyrium."
"You—Maker." Cullen stopped, running his hands down his face. He held his hands there for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as he willed himself not to start yelling again. It wouldn't do any good. "Did you do anything else?"
"I told him you had me in a dungeon, too."
He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut harder until he could see little stars dancing behind his eyelids. His head hurt.
"And I told him that if he cooperated with us we'd let him go."
He drew his hands down against his skin slowly, opening his eyes to stare at her when his fingers had reached his cheeks. "Anything else?" His question was slightly muffled by his hands.
"I don't think so." She twisted the hem of her sleeve, looking at the floor.
He closed his eyes again, taking in a few deep breaths. "I expect you want me to tell this to Leliana? As she'll be the one who needs to know?"
Even in the dim light, he could see her pale, making her freckles stand out. She snapped her head up, looking toward the Chantry's entrance and then back at him. "I'll tell her. I wasn't…I'm sorry."
"Next time you want to do something like this, talk to us first. It will save everyone a lot of time and headaches." He stepped forward slowly and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know you've been told before, but we must appear unified."
She nodded, though her expression was impossible to read. She swallowed her pride, with some difficulty. "As you say, commander."
He patted her shoulder. "Let's get some sleep."