The last month had not been pleasant for Cullen in the slightest.

First, he'd had to deal with the knowledge that mages would be arriving at Haven en masse. Enough mages, in fact, that should something reminiscent of Kinloch Hold occur, there wouldn't be enough templars present to even begin to keep the rest of Haven safe, let alone keep them from spreading beyond Haven to wreak havoc in the surrounding countryside.

It had brought back dreams and memories that he had hoped would have begun to blur and dull by now.

Of course they were still sharp and horrifying.

Abominations shambling through the halls, only to move faster than any living thing ought to be able to when they caught sight of something they wanted to 'play' with. His friends' screams rang clear in his ears when he jolted awake, that thudding longing in his temples all but screeching that there was a simple way for him to get past this.

Just a taste, and it would numb all this chaos.

Just a taste, and it could eat way these awful memories. It could dull them into something tolerable.

It was a far greater temptation than anything else had been. To be able to get away from those images, from the faces of the dead, from taking in their gruesomely contorted and mangled bodies strewn about the tower.

It would be so, so, so easy to just let the lyrium work its own brand of magic. To let it sweep those nightmares into blurred numbness, to let Cullen forget.

But then, forgetting was the problem, wasn't it?

Good moments aside—fleeting and far between as they were—forgetting meant that he would forget why it was so important that he push forward. If he forgot what he'd seen, forgot what he'd become in Kirkwall, he would simply repeat it.

He knew he would.

He needed to remember who he was, who he wanted to be.

And so, even with that temptation drumming a steady, unrelenting beat into his temples, he'd done his best to ignore it. He'd snapped a few times at people who didn't deserve it, but for the most part, he had stayed in control.

Few templars as there were, surely the whole lot of the mages wouldn't fall to demons. Even in Kinloch Hold there had been some who had held out. And those who didn't fall to temptation would help fight against any abominations that might emerge.

The Herald would fight.

She would, and she was a damned good healer. With her at their side, they could manage. It would be hard, but if the worst case happened, they would manage.

They would have to.

He'd been swallowing down his fears like bile with every gulp, but he had managed to keep the fear from his eyes as he ordered his soldiers to prepare. He'd managed not to terrify the civilians or recruits with tales of what could go wrong, keeping his writhing terrors trapped safely in his head, where he was the only one they could torment.

Indeed, he was even managing to rein in his fears, to check them with faith in his people and faith in their Herald—despite what that little voice might whisper in the back of his head about plans hinging on the altruism of a skittish apostate.

He was almost confident in his plans when the worst kind of news had come back to Haven. The Herald's group had been attacked by infected templars.

That had been one of the most horrifying things to hear. Cullen had stumbled over his words like a fool, before finally barking out the question just before Leliana could step in and take over for him. "Is the Herald alright?"

There had been a terrifying silence where the scout had looked from him to Leliana and back as though she didn't want to be the bearer of bad news. A million scenarios had rushed through Cullen's mind at once, merging and shoving others out of the way before ideas could fully form.

The Herald had died. Or she had been cornered and become an abomination. Or she'd been infected with red lyrium and could no longer cast. In such a state, it would be hard to move her. First Enchanter Vivienne…did she know healing spells?

If the Herald was alive, they would need to send Solas.

Or was she dead? Was she rampaging as a monster as they stood there like fools?

"She was taken."

"What?" Leliana had snapped, coming to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with Cullen.

The report had come in a rush after that. When the red templars—the scout's words—had descended on the group, it had been chaos. They knew that the Herald had been there for most of the fight, as she'd kept people up despite nearly getting hit with red lyrium several times.

No one was sure when she'd been grabbed—or how their attackers had managed it—but she'd been gone by the end of the fight.

For a second, Cullen had wondered if she hadn't simply gotten cold feet and run.

But then…she wasn't just some random apostate. She was the Herald. Finley. She'd promised, indignant at times, that she would help close the Breach.

No, she wouldn't have run.

It was a little baffling that they had chosen to capture her rather than simply kill her, but the scout hadn't been able to speak as to their enemies' motivations.

Cassandra had led most of the group after the red templars, determined to find where they'd taken the Herald.

It had been days before they'd received word again.

In those days, Cullen had paced through Haven like a man possessed. He'd continued with plans for the arrival of the mages, as though the Herald wasn't missing.

As though their plans weren't on the verge of collapsing.

He'd been questioned once.

Only once.

He hadn't even needed to respond to the query—it had been about whether there was a point to their preparations when the Herald was likely already dead. As soon as he'd looked toward the soldier who'd asked it, they'd snapped their mouth shut hard enough that he'd heard their teeth clack together.

From then on, everyone had kept quiet.

New recruits continued to flock into Haven. New supporters, too.

It kept him busy.

The busier he was, the less he could wonder about what had happened to his Herald.

And then word had reached him of what had become of her.

And of what had become the Templar Order.

Cullen ran his tongue over the back of his teeth as he walked into the Chantry hall, heading straight for the back room. As he opened the door, he heard that damned table squeak, it's leg still uncooperative after all this time.

The anger that had been churning in his gut since he'd heard the news dissipated when he saw the Herald standing beside the table, her hair as tangled and wild as ever. She was playing with a place marker as she spoke with Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana, brow pinched together, delicate features twisted with weariness and anger.

"They're gone," she was saying as he quietly closed the door behind him.

Despite the softness of the click of the lock, the Herald jumped as though someone had just screamed in her ear. Her gaze flitted towards him, that brilliant, molten gold burning brightly as she stared at him, breath held just a moment before she let it out slowly.

She shifted her weight a little and nodded to him, almost as though she expected him to lash out.

That she could still expect that after all this time…

It did remind him of why he might be expected to.

Glancing around the room, he noted that he'd been the last to arrive, and he rested his hand on the pommel of his blade as he nodded toward the rest of them. His gaze quickly returned to their Herald. "I hear that you disbanded the Order."

She winced at his words, appraising him carefully before replying, "I didn't think they'd actually listen to me."

That made Cullen stop. Whatever conversation he'd been prepared for vanished from his mind. He took in a slow, measured breath, brow dipping down over his eyes as he pointed toward the timid mage. "You…what?"

Cassandra stepped in before the Herald could flounder through an explanation or try to lose him in a dizzying array of words. "Finley was abducted and taken to Therinfal Redoubt where a demon posturing as the Lord Seeker tried to…replace her. The templars were being fed red lyrium. However, we were able to infiltrate the old fortress and assist those who were not corrupted in defending themselves against the red templars. When we found the survivors, they were holed up in the main hall with Finley healing them." She looked like she wanted to say more on that subject, but chose not to.

The Herald fidgeted. "Of course I was healing. It's what I do. I'm a healer."

As Cullen and Cassandra both looked back at her, the sigh that had been sweeping up his throat caught there. Dark, dark circles hung under her eyes like she hadn't slept in days, her skin was sallow, and her shoulders slumped as though her arms were too heavy for her.

As though the anchor was.

"You disbanded the Order?" Cullen repeated, his voice a bit gentler.

At that, she stood up a bit straighter, irate. "Of course I did! They were running about ingesting poison and taking orders from a damned demon! If they can't even figure out that they're following a demon, how can we expect them to know the difference between a regular mage and an abomination? Whatever training they put you through is clearly deplorable and lacking." She sniffed, indignant. The place marker clacked against the table as she forcefully set it back in its spot before crossing her arms. "I told them as much. Not a single damned one of them could look me in the eye or argue."

"So you told them to disband."

"I was still a little surprised that they'd actually listen to a mage. But they did. And then we went to Redcliffe." At that, she lost her self-righteousness. "The mages are gone, though."

"Gone?" When the Herald gave him a look that implied she didn't feel the need to repeat herself, his gaze left her to turn to Cassandra—who looked almost as worn down as their Herald—and then to Leliana. "Where?"

"We don't know," Leliana murmured. "I never received reports of movement or anything that indicated they had left. They are simply gone."

"If they're gone, then what are we supposed to do about the Breach?" Cullen motioned over his shoulder in the hole's general direction. "We can't just leave it—"

"Many of the templars are en route here," Cassandra interrupted. When their Herald let out a 'humph', she sighed. "Ser Yorric and I suggested that if they wished for redemption or simply a purpose, they could join the Inquisition, just not as the Order." Cassandra gave the Herald a cross frown, which she chose to ignore, instead opting to inspect her sleeve and a few places where the threads appeared ready to unravel. "Ser Yorric mentioned we might be able to provide them with lyrium, and that all but sealed that most of them will be coming here."

Cullen paused.

He'd noticed an uptick in templars showing up in bands of twos and threes over the last few days, but they'd all been rather hesitant to explain where they were coming from, or to talk about the Order with him. He'd originally dismissed it as no longer being a part of it himself, not that there simply wasn't an Order anymore.

That was, until one of them had bothered to relay the message that the Herald of Andraste had passed a rather harsh judgment upon them.

Then he'd just been angry.

However, now…

If all that had been transpiring, perhaps it was for the best that the Order was gone. He hated to see something so longstanding brushed away, but the decision hadn't been made lightly, as she'd clearly expressed. It was a little disconcerting to think she hadn't expected them to actually disband when she'd ordered it, but…

"The majority of the them should arrive in the next few days," Cassandra said, watching as their Herald's slouch became more pronounced, the mere idea seeming to draw away what little was left of her energy.

"Do I…"

Their eyes all turned back to the Herald, though it was Josephine who spoke, a gentle light in her eyes as she stepped around the table and carefully placed a hand on the Herald's shoulder. "You look like you could use some rest. We will handle the preparations from here."

She didn't wait for anyone else to agree, instead slipping past Cullen and out the door, her feet dragging a little with each step.

Cullen paused when he realized he'd started to reach out to her as she passed. Quickly bringing his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, he looked back at the others. "So then. We march with the templars."

Despite Leliana's scowl, Cassandra nodded. "We do."

Cullen felt relief sweep through him, the last month's worries slowly ebbing away as he considered how their plans would need to change to accommodate the remnants of the Order instead of mages. "I'll get to work, then."

...-...

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews!