Chapter 3: For someone
From the time the mages left camp, Commander Cullen was a wreck. He paced his study for a while, wearing a hole in the rub that covered the cobblestone floor. When the room started to feel to small and tight, he paced the Chantry instead. Back and forth, back and forth, only stopping when a messenger would come looking for him, or one of his soldiers would bring a report. It would be an hour up the trail before they even reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and then who knew how long it would take them to actually close the Rift. The last time they had tried, a Pride demon had been pulled out of the Veil and had nearly killed them all. Who knew what monstrosity was waiting for them this time! Solas had informed them that it was unlikely that another demon would come this time, but that did little to assure Cullen. The elf might have confidence in the mages, but the commander knew that where magic was concerned, whatever could go wrong, very often did.
The air seemed to still, and Cullen stopped, looking to the door with wide eyes. A deafening crash and a concussion in the air brought him running outside, like so many others. All eyes turned to the Breach, and they watched as the ribbon of power that had connected the Breach to the giant Rift below dissipated into nothing. Cheers went up, and someone thumped his shoulders. All he could do was sigh in relief. 'She's done it.'
It didn't take long for the celebration to start. Casks of rum were rolled out along with cheap ale, and bonfires sprang up in Haven and outside of it where the soldiers camped. People pulled out instruments and struck up in song. Cullen smiled, but did not yet give his soldiers leave to celebrate. Those that were off duty could, but the rest would have to wait until the Herald returned. He didn't want to risk something having happened and have all his soldiers too far gone to help.
He took up watch at the gate tower, waiting until he saw the mages marching back down the road- with Wren at their head. Pride swelled in his chest for her, and he cursed himself for not speaking with her sooner. He needed to apologize. Again. Let her finish with what must be done now, but he swore to the Maker that he would get an apology to her tonight.
Returning to the Chantry, he told Josephine and Leliana that the Herald was returning and the three of them went to the War Room to wait. Cassandra would bring the mage here, and they could discuss what happened, and what the next steps needed to be. He riffled through a few papers, plucking the important ones out and setting them aside. There was a pensive sort of silence over all of them as they waited.
The door flew open and Cassandra strode in triumphantly. Cullen relaxed, as did the other councilors. If Cassandra was pleased, then nothing had gone wrong. His eyes tracked the young mage when she finally walked in, but she never once looked at him. Instead, she sat everyone down and immediately began a retelling of what had happened, with Cassandra filling anything in she missed. The two of them explained a few theories they had discussed on the way down, and their decision to leave guards at the Breach. The entire time, Cullen watched her. She had her confidence again, and her fire, though she seemed tired. Who could blame her? The power of a few dozen mages had been pushed through her in order to close the Rift- though if Cassandra was right, she might not have needed even half that number. It was obvious to all of her traveling companions that her powers were growing, and her control over the Mark was deepening.
Cullen marveled at the way she controlled the conversation with just as much ease as she did her magic. With her direction, they quickly decided who would get detailed accounts of the closing, and who would get simply brief explanations. With deft words she guided them on where to look for information about those who might be responsible for the Breach and the death of the Divine, and wrote a few quick letters to some of the people she'd made contact with since joining the Inquisition.
They worked for a few hours before Josephine finally called it a night, "There is nothing more that must be done this instant. Right now, our people wish to celebrate a triumph for the Inquisition, and they should see us out there celebrating-" she pointed her quill to Wren, "-especially you, Herald."
Wren smiled a little and shrugged, "Should I go wave my hat about and smile at them, Ambassador?"
Josephine laughed, "Yes, that is just about what they need."
As everyone else filed out, Cassandra stopped before Cullen could go out the door, and shut it behind the rest of them, turning on the Commander with a scowl, "I have some things to say to you, before we join the celebrations, Commander." Cullen gulped and tensed up, taking a few cautious steps back. Cassandra stepped forward, not letting him escape her that easily, "We have given you a week to make amends with the Herald. One. Week. And you have done nothing. You will apologize for your behavior tonight."
Once again, one of Wren's companions showed just how protective they had all become over her, Cullen put up his hands in an attempt to placate the angry Seeker, "I assure you, I had every intention of doing so."
With a snort, the woman stepped back, "Good. She did well today, and the mages too. It would do you both good for her to hear that from you." Turning on her heel, she opened the door and marched out after the others, leaving a slightly flabbergasted Cullen to follow slowly in her wake. Cassandra was a little scary sometimes.
He hadn't made it past the Chantry doors when another of Wren's companions stopped him, "Commander, a word?" Solas stepped out from under the shadow of a tree, his face in its usual passive mask.
"Of course." Cullen stopped, a little apprehensive that he was about to get yet another lecture.
The elf tipped his head and paused, keeping his voice low so that their conversation was fairly private, "I spent a time studying the Breach and the area where the Rift was. The Rift is truly gone, though the Breach remains, obviously. However, I think that, while there is no current danger from demons or further Rifts in the area, we should still leave a large contingent of soldiers and mages up there."
Cullen nodded, relieved that this conversation was purely business, "Yes, Cassandra and Lady Trevelyan said much the same thing. I have already sent word to a few of my troops to head out there, but how many of the mages should stay with them?" He tried not to cringe, and knew that he would have to trust all of his soldiers- whether they wield sword of staff.
Solas seemed to anticipate the question, "I have asked for volunteers among the older mages. There were two dozen that I trust to handle anything that comes up. I would recommend sending all of those- though the Wren should be consulted as well."
It was so strange to hear the mage refer to Wren by her preferred name. He was such a formal creature most of the time, and it only reminded Cullen further that he did not share the relationship that the others did with their Herald. "I-I shall ask her."
Solas stare seemed to become a little cold and his voice became sharper, "Good. It will remind you that the Mark on her hand is not the only purpose she has served for you Inquisition." The elf turned abruptly away, and Cullen found himself almost laughing, despite the burning shame that flamed his cheeks. Well, that was all four of the woman's companions that had chastised him for his behavior, though he was glad that only one of them chose to use their fist. He wondered idly if that Tevinter, Dorian, or the Grey Warden were yet protective enough of their little bird to come and berate him as well. If he wished to protect his hide and ears, he felt it best to seek out the Herald sooner than later. Looking around, he found her standing not far off with Cassandra. The two were speaking softly, watching the revelries.
The conversation did not seem intense, so he started walking towards them, hoping for a chance to request a moment of Wren's time. As he got closer, however, the flutter in his stomach got worse and he worried that when he finally opened his mouth, only a flock of butterflies would come out. Or he'd vomit. Either way, not a terribly attractive look for the Commander of the Inquisition's army.
The Seeker spotted him over the mage's shoulder, and he was close enough now that he could hear what they were saying, "Think on it, Wren. I am not the only one who wishes you would stay." Cassandra's eyes were on him and she gave him a tip of her head. The butterflies promptly turned to led and dropped to the bottom of his feet. Damn that woman. She was too good at observing the things and people around her.
Wren turned around to see who Cassandra was indicating, but when her eyes met his, he dropped his gaze. That was not fire in her gaze- but ice. Her rubbed his neck self consciously, flinching when she spoke, "Commander."
Trying to regain control of himself, he took a few steps forward, "L-lady Trevelyan." 'Dammit man! Can't you even open your mouth around her without stuttering?' He straightened up, trying to feign at least a modicum of confidence, "I came to congratulate you and the mages. It- it was a well done." It took a lot not to roll his eyes at himself. It was well done? Idiot.
Her gaze did not soften and she lifted her marked hand, "The mages deserve your thanks, Commander, not I. After all, I was only there for the Mark." He flinched again, unable to hide the cringe. He deserved that, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Maker… This isn't how it was supposed to go. He needed to apologize now, and try to make amends.
As he opened his mouth, the warning bells began to ring. Without hesitation, they both made for the gates. One of his runners intercepted him, "An unmarked army, Commander! We can't count the numbers. Most is still over the pass."
Cullen's body tensed, "Allies?" He could only hope-
"No, ser. Only one watchman checked in. The rest are dead or missing."
He felt his face pale, and he turned to address Haven, "Forces approaching! To arms!" He pulled his sword and ran with his soldiers the rest of the way. The other councilors were already running to meet him. "Only one watch guard reporting," he spared a glance at the spymaster before continuing; "It's a massive force, the bulk of it over the mountain."
Josephine too held a hope that these were allies, "Under what banner?"
He gave her a look that denied that hope, "None."
Much of the night flew by in a daze. The stranger named Cole. Samson at the side of a monstrosity called the Elder One. The twisted creatures that the Templars had become. He fought beside his soldiers for a short while, at least until they had cleared the first trebuchet and the area around the gate, then he rushed to call in anyone still stuck outside of Haven. The horses were herded in along with as much of the blacksmiths supplies as they could bring. Those mages that were in the camp, unable to fight or untrained yet in battle magic were brought in to help heal any wounded- who were being taken to the Chantry.
Cullen finally had the chance to watch Wren fight, and almost wished he didn't have to leave her side. She was a force to be reckoned with. He had not noticed the spike at the end of her staff until she spun it around and jammed it through the eye-holes of a helmed Templar, running magic down its length until fire exploded out of the armor shell. Lightening seemed to protect her, flashing out at enemies that approached without her even looking at them. If they had even a dozen mages of her caliber, they would never have to worry about any army. 'But there are no mages like her, are there?' He couldn't watch her forever, though, he had a job to do, and so did she.
By the time they'd cleared and fired the third trebuchet, Cullen was starting to feel like they might actually survive this- until the beast showed up and blasted through their defense. In one pass over his forces, the dragon destroyed their primary line of defense. With a heavy heart, he called the retreat.
He tried to take a head count as his soldiers ran inside, but there were so many and he really only wanted to be sure of one- there! She was bringing up the rear, Solas and Varric just ahead of hear. As soon as she passed, he slammed the gates shut- not that they would keep out the demon. "We need everyone back to the Chantry! It's the only building that might hold against… That thing."
He turned, knowing that she was their only line of defense during the retreat, "At this point, just make them work for it." It killed him to say that, but with a monster like that flying at their front, the army would now have no trouble wiping Haven off the map. He swallowed it all down, and played his part as the Commander of their army. She gave him a nod, her eyes wide but determined. 'Maker… Let me see her again.'
Leaving her and her companions to clear out the rest of Haven, he sling an arm under one of his limping soldiers and helped drag the man to the stone Chantry. Over the cries for help and shouted orders, he could hear the fighting getting closer. They were surely inside the walls by now. A concussive blast and the crackle of lightning told him that Wren had engaged the enemy- it was only a matter of time now.
Inside, he gathered his soldiers- those that were still able to stand- and took a count. They'd lost over half their forces, including most of their battle mages. The fact that the entire population of Haven now fit inside the Chantry was enough to tell him how bad their losses were. 'Not the entire population. She is still fighting.' Over and over his eyes drifted to the doors, where a few of the soldiers and mages stood watch, trying to keep any stray enemies from coming in while still allowing the handful of people left in the town to enter.
Time seemed to drag, and he wanted nothing more than to go out there himself and fight these beasts at her side- but his duty was to his men.
The last trickle of people came through the doors, along with the one they were all waiting to see. He rushed towards her, determined to give her an honest report- it was his duty. "Herald! Our position is not good." They stopped near the doors, and he tried to keep his low, so as not to panic those that were nearby. "That dragon stole back whatever time you managed to earn us." He saw her face fall, and he wished to any god that was listening that he could have told her something better. But it wasn't in his nature to soften this kind of blow.
The strange boy- Cole?- spoke from where he crouched beside the Chancellor, . "I've seen an Archdemon before, while I was in the Fade. It looked like that."
Cullen's temper flared. He knew it was no ordinary dragon, but he had no interest in further draining the morale of their men, , "I don't care what it is- it just cut a path for the incoming army! They will kill everyone in Haven!"
The boy shook his head slowly, his eyes on Wren, "The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald." Cullen's vision swam for a moment, and for a moment he lost the thread of the conversation until he heard Cole say, "I don't like him."
Cullen couldn't believe what he was hearing, "You don't-" shaking his head, he turned to Wren, "Herald, there are no tactics that make this survivable." He had to get it through their heads. "The only thing that slowed them down was that avalanche. If we could use the remaining trebuchets, make one last slide…"
Stubbornness flared in her eyes, and he was almost relieved to see the fire return, "If we do that, we would be bringing that avalanche here- down on our people. That is unacceptable."
Oh how he wanted to agree with her! How he wished he could have any form of optimism! But right now, the most they could hope for was to take some of this army with them. "We're dying, but we can decide how. Most don't get that choice."
Chancellor Rodrick spoke then about the pass he'd found in his youth- his breathing heavy and difficult to understand- but if he was right, if there was a way out… Wren turned to Cullen, her eyes pleading, "What do you think Cullen? If I can keep the army distracted, can you make it work?"
A flicker of hope sprang in his chest. They might just have a chance to save everyone. "Possibly. If he can show us the path." But it meant… He stepped closer to her, unable to keep his voice even or his face the neutral mask of a commander, "What of your escape?"
When she turned away, his felt like his heart was breaking. He wanted to turn her around and hold her to him, but his hand barely brushed her arm, "Perhaps you will surprise it? Find a way…" There was no way to continue that statement. Suicide. What she was proposing was suicide. But it would save everyone, and it was likely the only thing that could.
Pulling himself back together, he turned and began barking orders to his men. If she was going to sacrifice herself, he'd make sure it would actually matter. His men came quickly, ready to do as he commanded- even they knew that their actions would mean the life, or death, of the Inquisition and everyone here. With their orders given, Cullen turned back to the Herald. "They'll load the trebuchets while you distract the Elder One. You must keep him occupied until we are past the tree line." She gave him a short nod, fear and determination evident in her eyes, and moved to follow the soldiers out, "If we have a chance- if you are to have a chance- let that thing hear you!"
His eyes tracked her as she went to the door. He was almost grateful that she was forcing Cassandra to stay- the Commander would need the Seeker's help, and they could not afford to lose her if the Inquisition was to have any chance. He was surprised that Wren would not allow Solas to go with her, but was even more surprised when the elf did not put up a fight. Still, he was another person they would need, if they were to close the Breach. Once the brief goodbyes were over, the young mage, their savior, walked out behind the soldiers, and the heavy doors closed behind her. It was the sound of finality, and Cullen had to clench his teeth to keep his emotions in check. 'I never told her I was sorry.'
AN: Not terribly happy with this chapter, but whatever.
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